EZ Snappin's Crackle & Pop

NEWS

2007-08-20T18:29:00.000-05:00

I folded the non-updated Robyn Hitchcock Project blog into this one, back-dating the posts to the date they were written. Sadly, there was no way I could continue under the present nor the expected future situation.

I'm also going to be closing up shop here; I have surgery scheduled for next week and decided it was a good time to hang up the spurs. I'm sure I'll make some sort of comeback down the road, but not at Crackle & Pop. I enjoyed the writing and hope you enjoyed reading it.

I'm thinking of keeping up the podcasts just to keep my toes wet for when I'm ready to jump back in. I'll email a download link to whomever is interested, so drop me a line and I'll add you to the list.

Thanks for all the kind words, feedback and conversation. It has been a pleasure.

Me & Connie Down By The Schoolyard

2007-08-16T16:15:00.000-05:00

From Free Darko via True Hoop:

To Make A Table Stand

2007-08-16T09:41:00.000-05:00

Tracklist:
"Detouring America With Horns" - Yo La Tengo (from May I Sing With Me)
"I'm Insane" - Sonic Youth (from Anarchy at St. Mary's Place)
"Outfit" - Drive-By Truckers (from Decoration Day)
"Time After Time" - Cyndi Lauper (from She's So Unusual)
"Ship Of Fools" - Robert Plant (from Now & Zen)
"Three Is The Magic Number" - Jeff Buckley (from The Rare Tracks)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Can You Believe It's No. 43?

2007-08-09T09:12:00.001-05:00

Tracklist:
"Tricky" - Prince & Morris Day (from Ice Cream Castles single)
"Blu-lu-lup" - Lord Fly & Dan Williams and His Orchestra (from Mento Madness)
"$1000 Wedding" - Evan Dando & Juliana Hatfield (from Return of the Grievous Angel)
"Souvenirs D'un Autre Monde" - Alcest (from Souvenirs D'un Autre Monde)
"Patter" - Benoit Pioulard (from Précis)
"Ash Wednesday" - Elvis Perkins (from Ash Wednesday)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Wacha Wacha Wacha

2007-08-02T07:30:00.000-05:00

Tracklist:
"Imagination (Is A Powerful Deceiver)" - Elvis Costello (from My Aim Is True)
"Day Tripper" - Whitesnake (from Trouble)
"Crumblin' Down" - John Mellencamp (from Uh-Huh)
"The Only Living Boy In New York" - Simon and Garfunkel (from Bridge Over Troubled Water)
"Tina" - Camper Van Beethoven (from Telephone Free Landslide Victory)
"Radio Commercial" - The Sugar Hill Gang (from The Sugar Hill Story: To The Beat Y'All)
"Paper Planes" - M.I.A. (from Kala)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Soldiering On

2007-07-31T13:49:00.000-05:00

Sadly, it seems anything that could go wrong with my recovery has gone wrong. What I hoped was just a simple sprain has turned into yet another nightmare. It seems in attempting to heal me, my body has decided to grow a cyst. This cyst has not responded to normal treatment, so yet again I am facing surgery on one of my hands.

All it is not lost for you, gentle reader. Through the auspices of an unnamed benefactor (codename: Dad) I now have voice recognition software that should assist me with my writing. It will take some time to train, but I hope to quickly move beyond that frustration and to resume regular posting. Based on what it is filling in here the adjustment may be a while.

Somethin' Weird & It Don't Look Good

2007-07-27T08:32:00.000-05:00

Tracklist:
"Wagon Wheel" - Old Crow Medicine Show (from Old Crow Medicine Show)
"Psychopharmacology" - Grandpaboy (from Grandpaboy)
"Thirteen Men" - Ann-Margaret (from 1961-1966)
"Electric Relaxation" - A Tribe Called Quest (from Midnight Marauders)
"Don't Go Breaking My Heart" - O.D.B. & Macy Gray (from some mixtape)
"Da Feelin'" - Dizzee Rascal (from Maths + English)
"Thunderbusters" - Wax Audio (from waxaudio.com.au)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Pickin' Apples, Makin' Pies

2007-07-27T06:12:00.001-05:00

Must Read Marcello

2007-07-23T12:09:00.000-05:00

Go visit The Church for the best write-up on Elvis Perkin's Ash Wednesday I've yet seen.

100% Less Bohemian

2007-07-18T10:28:00.000-05:00

Tracklist:
"Lazy Flies" - Beck (from Mutations)
"Memories Can't Wait (live)" - Living Colour (from Biscuits)
"Ballad Of The Yellow Beret" - Bob Seger (from The Singles 66-67)
"Things Go Better With Coca-Cola" - Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell (from Coca-Cola Commercials)
"Kick, Push" - Lupe Fiasco (from Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor)
"Birmingham" - The Wolfgang Press (from Queer [UK])
"Birmingham" - The Wolfgang Press (from Queer [US])

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Let Yourself Go

2007-06-29T10:29:00.000-05:00

Tracklist:
"Ghost Of A Dog" - Edie Brickell & New Bohemians (from Ghost Of A Dog)
"When Will They Shoot?" - Ice Cube (from Predator)
"The Jean Genie" - David Bowie (from Aladdin Sane)
"Blockbuster!" - Sweet (from Sweet's Greatest Hits)
"Cast A Shadow" - Yo La Tengo (from Genius + Love =Yo La Tengo)
"Always On My Mind" - Pet Shop Boys (from Discography)
"Superfreaky Memories" - Luna (from The Days Of Our Nights)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Distrusted Not Rusted

2007-06-21T10:47:00.001-05:00

Tracklist:
"Theme from Don" - Kalyanji Anandji (from Sitar Beat)
"Daisy Bomb" - Robyn Hitchcock (from A Star For Bram)
"Bert's Apple Crumble" - The Quik (from The In Crowd: The Ultimate Mod Collection))
"Yesterday" - Bob Dylan (from Almost Went To See Elvis)
"Helpless Automaton" - Men At Work (from Business As Usual)
"Let's Drink" - Korpiklaani (from Tervaskanto)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Special For Tuesday

2007-06-19T09:07:00.000-05:00

It's a new podcast - before Thursday!

Tracklist:
"Cheree" - Suicide (from Suicide)
"Sweet As A Candy Bar" - Air Miami (from Me.Me.Me.)
"Mama Weer All Crazee Now" - Slade (from Slayed?)
"Pleasure To Burn" - Sasquatch (from II)
"You've Got To Hide Your Love Away" - The Beatles (from Help!)
"Supersonic" - Oasis (from Definitely Maybe)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

I Blame The Muppets

2007-06-18T09:06:00.000-05:00

My love of twitchy dancing puppets can have no other root. Fell in love with this on my honeymoon and it still makes me happy.

I Can't Play This, But I Have a Theremin

2007-06-15T10:54:00.000-05:00

...And the Wreck of the Hesperus Too

2007-06-14T15:18:00.000-05:00

Tracklist:
"Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again)" - Sly & The Family Stone (from Greatest Hits)
"Stigmata Martyr" - Bauhaus (from In The Flat Field)
"I Was Born" - Billy Bragg (from Hamburg Radio Broadcast)
"Rock 'N' Roll Suicide" - David Bowie (from blah blah blah...Ziggy Stardust...blah blah)
"I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday" - Morrissey (from Your Arsenal)
"Lydia The Tattooed Lady" - The Marx Brothers (from At The Circus)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

By the way, the tracklist for each podcast is available under the lyrics tab in the mp3 file (at least in iTunes).

River Deep, Catalog Shallow

2007-06-07T12:06:00.000-05:00

Podcast 35; remembering Jeff Buckley, ten years gone.

Tracklist:
All songs by Jeff Buckley
"Mojo Pin" (from Grace)
"Last Goodbye" (from Grace)
"Yard Of Blonde Girls" (from Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk)
"New Year's Prayer" (from Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk)
"Lover, You Should Have Come Over" (from Grace)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Songs for June Fifth

2007-06-05T09:37:00.001-05:00

The following songs have a time of 6:05 in my iTunes library:

"Lonesome Day Blues" - Bob Dylan
"Atrocity Exhibition" - Joy Division
"Show Biz Kids" - Steely Dan
"House Taken Over" - The Hummingbirds
"Dry The Rain" - The Beta Band
"Emotional Weather Report" - Tom Waits
"You Don't Know What Love Is" - Cassandra Wilson
"Kya Jane Yeh Duniya Kya Jan" - Amit Kumar & Sulahshana Pandit
"Holiday On The Moon" - Love & Rockets
"Always Keep A Diamond In Your Mind" - Tom Waits & The Kronos Quartet
"Les Fleur" - 4Hero
"One Two Three Baby" - Asha Boshle & Mahendra Kapoor
"Dono Ke Vichkar Lagta" - Asha Boshle
"Zoom And Bored" - Carl Stalling and the Warner Bros. Studio Orchestra
"Fishnet" - Morris Day
"Archie & Veronica" - Lovage

Tommy's Loss

2007-05-31T10:11:00.000-05:00

He can't hear my latest podcast, but you can:

Tracklist:
"Millions Of Images" - William S. Burroughs & Gus Van Zant (from The Elvis Of Letters)
"Waiting For The End Of The World" - Elvis Costello (from My Aim Is True)
"Maneater" - Hall & Oates (from H2O)
"This Charming Man (NY Vocal)" - The Smiths (from The Ongoing History Of New Music 2)
"I Feel An Idiot" - Go Home Productions (from gohomeproductions.co.uk)
"This Is Where I Came In" - The Bee Gees (from This Is Where I Came In)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Rough Break

2007-05-29T10:47:00.000-05:00

I've managed to sprain my wrist pretty good. I'll be pretty screwed for at least a few weeks. Might get an extra podcast or two as I can still flap my gums.

Uncorrected Personality Traits

2007-05-28T18:01:00.000-05:00

A Capella three-part harmony is not common in any modern artists catalog, but Robyn here does it in his own inimitable style. With a loose premise of the damage done by accepting quirky behavior in children, Robyn gets his digs in on the modern fixation with pop psychology and media coverage of the same. My favorite verse:

Even Marilyn Monroe was a man
But this tends to get over looked
By our mother-fixated
Overweight, sexist media

What does that have to do with the subject at hand? Rather little, but it is an amusing aside.

Since much of this project is really about my involvement and connection with Hitchcock, allow me to digress into anecdote. Some time ago (roughly a decade, I think) I made a mixtape of cabaret/music hall inspired music for my mother. This is one of the tracks I chose, I believe to end the first side. I picked the song because of it's sonic sensibility not lyrical content, but my mother picked up on the lyrics right away. If you examine the lyrics (available for perusal here), there is a verse describing the balance of parental involvement and the consequences. The consequences do not describe me, but the over/under involvement ratio was the same in my life as stated herein. I was asked rather pointedly whether I was trying to imply something with this choice of song; she certainly did not see her role in raising me as coddling to my strange childhood tics and behaviors, or that any issues I may be facing as an adult could possibly be tied to how she treated me as a child, excepting maybe in my poor relationship with my father which she tried, oh she tried, so desperately to strengthen and improve.

Please believe that I had not consciously meant, or hoped she would infer, anything from this track. That she did, however, and the way she reacted to it, made me reconsider it and what possible correlations it has to my life. Since this event, I've liked the song much more than I had in prior years.

Tradboy Shuffle

2007-05-28T11:21:00.000-05:00

"Poet" - Sly & The Family Stone
As loose as Sly sounded on record (his work overall strikes me as drum tight, jammy but meticulously so), it is sketchy, almost slurred slow funk. "My only weapon is my singing", Sly starts, but it is a weapon that, here, he seems reluctant to use.

"Come Coser" - DJ Zebra
Mashups may be far, far past their expiration date, but this one still works for me. Nine Inch Nails "Closer" crossed with The Beatles "Come Together". Somehow funkier than both, but not funkier than Little Richard's appropriation of the "Come Together" bassline for "Nuki Suki". Though Richard didn't flat-out say "I want to fuck you/Right now", he sure implied it.

"Soundtrack To Mary" - Soul Coughing
Their first two albums got spun by me as much as anything that came out in the 90s. I'm a sucker for a stand-up bass; add a smart-alecky singer and a penchant for Raymond Scott samples and I'm caught hook, line and sinker.

"We Love Pizzicato Five" - Pizzicato Five
The sentiment is correct, the children's voices pure. "We love you P5, Oh yes we do".

"The Long Black Veil" - Johnny Cash
The singer dies instead of sharing the fact he was gettin' busy with his buddies woman, so she mourns in the long dark night. Die for the honor of a woman you love; Cash makes it seem the only sensible thing to do.

"John The Revelator" - Blind Willie Johnson
The voice. Neither Beefheart nor Waits nor any death metal vocalist has ever approached the growl and throaty dissonant howl of Blind Willie. I always loved the fact that so many of his songs have sweet, slightly off-pitch female vocal accompaniment. Makes his voice seem even rougher, if that's possible.

52 Stations

2007-05-25T18:01:00.000-05:00

One of the few songs from the ill-fated Groovy Decay sessions that Robyn hasn't disowned, "Fifty Two Stations" is a bittersweet love song, a remembrance of a past relationship that ended poorly. The singer can't understand her and sees her as self-absorbed, all of which messes with his head until he lashes out and leaves. Only in hindsight can he see that the differences and the self-absorption was on both sides. Instead of recriminations and anger, Hitchcock's focus is on the sadness of it all.

As far is the music, it isn't much more than a mid-tempo rocker with a bad Dire Straits panning drum intro (really close to "Money For Nothing", though that came later) on Decay, with just enough angular guitar to keep it moving. The Kershaw Sessions version, however, is both softer and a little cheesier than the earlier release. This is distinctly not an improvement; it sounds vaguely like a song writer's demo for some 60s soft rock group, say, Harper's Bizarre.

Despite my serious undersell, it is a good song. This is a good representative of the part of Hitchcock's catalog that often gets overlooked; everyone focuses on the eccentricities and misses the pure pop songs he always wrote and nestled in beside the crustaceans, death and anthropomorphic inanimate objects.

Halfway Gone

2007-05-25T15:06:00.000-05:00

Though the official mid-year celebrations are a short ways off, here at C&P I'm jumping the gun so I can actually enjoy listening to all this crap I've got sitting around. Without further blathering, thoughts on some of this years releases:

Tori Amos - American Doll Posse
I still like the first few Tori albums, and love From The Choirgirl Hotel. Her latest has some great stuff, but has a good chunk of godawful crud that sounds like everything else she's done this decade. Give it a listen, and buy the good stuff from iTunes ("Big Wheel", "Body And Soul").

The Assemble Head In Sunburst Sound - Ekranoplan
From Teepee records, home of my beloved Witch (RIP) and Earthless, Assemble Head are described by their PR flacks as "Mudhoney in Haight-Ashbury". Though not as good as that, their heavy psychedelic blues-rock is good, and has just enough layers of noise and fuzz to compliment the groove.

Battles - Mirrored
I've been listening to this for a while and the shine has kind of worn off. Though I would say overall I am leaning positive, it doesn't excite and interest me as much as the first few listens when I was unsure of what to make of it. Grooving post-rock with manipulated vocals, I'm sure I'd like them live more than on record. I do like it more than the two EPs, which I was very "meh" about.

Bjork - Volta
I liked it better in the short, condensed version she released as Selmasongs seven years ago.

Clutch - From Beale Street To Oblivion
Has not fell out of my rotation since it's release in March. Further shedding their metal roots, Clutch comes across here as heavy, heavy southern blues - think ZZ Top on steroids. Muscular but not forceful, tuneful and fiery, I will be very surprised if this isn't near the top of my year-end list. "Electric Worry" is one of my favorite songs this year; watch the video here.

Earthless - Rhythms From A Cosmic Sky
I've only had this a week, but it makes a helluva first impression. Just big honking stoner grooves - two go for twenty minutes each, then they throw a Groundhogs cover in to wrap things up. I think I might not like it quite as much as their prior release, Sonic Prayer, but if you like wordless jams that combine Hendrix, Blue Cheer and Sabbath with nods to power metal you can't go wrong with either one.

Eluvium - Copa
I know nothing about this guy or anything else he's done, but this is beautiful, subdued instrumental music. It almost falls into new age twinkledom, but holds the line and comes out like a soundtrack to Jim Jarmusch movie where nothing exactly happens but you enjoy the whole experience. I enjoy listening to this, but I don't think it is a warm weather album so it'll probably have to be "rediscovered" this Fall.

Tim Fite - Over The Counterculture
Free album? Of course I'll listen! There are some great songs on this ("I've Been Shot" is a standout) and it only costs time. Won't probably be there come end of year, but it was worth a couple of spins for a few standout tracks.

Jesu - Conqueror & Sun Down/Sun Rise
Continuing the steady shift from noise purveyor to the most depressing shoegazer imaginable, Justin Broadrick mope-a-dopes his way through blissful sounding sheets and waves of guitar. Even poppier than last year's Silver, Jesu's latest is wonderful to listen to, but has failed to lodge even the smallest riff or bit in my head. I can't recall anything beyond a general sound and that I enjoy hearing it, but it may be too samey to make a distinct impression. Sun Down/Sun Rise is a bonus EP that was included with the Japanese release of Conqueror, and consists of two cuts, the first 17 and the second 15 minutes. Both songs are the equal to any of the shorter pieces included on the domestic album, particularly when played loud; you can really hear the songs build and develop when they envelope you.

Low - Drums And Guns
I freely admit I know nothing about this band, beyond a track here and there over their ten-plus year career. With Ian regularly singing their praises (and writing about them very well at Too Many Words x2), I decided to give this a listen when I got the chance. Without any history or context within which to place it, Drums And Guns is a somewhat off-putting and difficult listen. Their sound isn't harsh or dissonant, but the decision to hard pan the voices and forgo a traditional aural mix is a challenge from the start. I think it works, though it does teeter on novelty after a while. I don't like it as much as Ian, but I like it enough to want to hear more Low.

Mammatus - The Coast Explodes
I've got nothing to add to this review right now.

Minsk - The Ritual Fires Of Abandonment
Though I was disappointed with them live, the album is still pretty solid. Post-rock, drone, doom and Kahlil Gibran in an epic mash. Not most people's cuppa, but I keep playing it.

The National - Boxer
I mentioned it in passing before, but this is a very good indie-pop record. I would shorthand it by saying it sounds like the meeting point of Lambchop and the Psychedelic Furs.

Elvis Perkins - Ash Wednesday
Though there are a few misfires on this ("May Day" is like the worst round of Kumbaya ever), his debut lives up to the tracks that have been floating around for a few years. I have a weakness for singer/songwriter stuff, and Perkins has a just enough of a touch of Mangum and Buckley to be right up my alley and to cause others to run in terror.

Tinariwen - Aman Iman
Anything that combines North African/Arabic style drones with delta blues guitar and what may be 40 different singers makes me prick up my ears. Tinariwen do that and add hand percussion and a bass guitar playing kick drum lines. I haven't even bothered to read the translated lyrics; when it sounds this good I don't care whether their singing about love, war, or pedophilia.

Amy Winehouse - Back To Black
Completely unoriginal, with an on- and offstage persona that is deplorable at best, Winehouse and company (particularly the oft-maligned Mark Ronson) have crafted an album that is just fun. I like early sixties soul, so throw some more modern beat patterns and a trashy but competent singer on top and I'm good. Won't replace Carla Thomas or The Ronettes, and if it gets people to listen to them instead of Winehouse that's good too.

Their are a bunch of things I haven't heard, or haven't heard enough. On the radar: Devin The Dude, Bonde De Role, R. Kelly ("I'm A Flirt (remix)" is so good I'll try the rest), Crippled Black Phoenix, The Moonbabies. I gladly take recommendations.

Who'll Save The Podlings?

2007-05-24T09:27:00.000-05:00

Yeah, podcast 33 is ready for all y'all, aight?

Tracklist:

"The Unforgettable Fire" - U2 (from The Unforgettable Fire)
"Really, How'd It Get This Way?" - Crippled Black Phoenix (from The Love Of Shared Disasters)
"Award Tour" - A Tribe Called Quest (from Midnight Marauders)
"P's & Q's" - Kano (from Run The Road)
"Rebel Waltz" - The Clash (from Sandinista!)
"Another One Rides The Bus - Weird Al Yankovic (from Permanent Record)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Glass

2007-05-22T18:00:00.000-05:00

Another elliptical/spiral guitar figure at the heart of "Glass". I've noticed before that this type of riff (for lack of a better word) is somewhat of a signature style, but I didn't quite realize how often he draws upon it. With this song, as with much of The Egyptians catalog, Robyn counters the calliope guitar work with a high, soft keyboard line of tinkling bells. This is in stark contrast to The Soft Boys, where he and Kimberly Rew would play off of and amplify the main guitar riff with more guitar, often in close harmonics.

Evoking a calliope, whether conscious or not, has certain connotations. Myself, I've always associated that sound - the falling and rising notes that repeat without connecting the circle - with the circus. Within the context of the Soft Boys, the dual guitar playing off the elliptical base invites madness; an aural equivalent to the frightening effect of clowns on many children. Here it isn't madness (the trebly bells soften that feeling) but it does keep the listener slightly off-kilter to the songs benefit. Hitchcock plays on it in the lyrics, evoking the edge, the slight danger, in the third verse:

Glass protects you but glass can shatter
Hear the sirens, hear the screams

Steve & Eydie & Chris & Kim & Ben & Matt

2007-05-21T15:49:00.000-05:00

I missed this when it came out in 1997. Since the "blogosphere" was less than nascent in those halcyon days of AOL and the Well, we didn't get this on every two-bit space like the one you're reading. Praise be to bandwidth, and check out Steve & Eydie singing "Black Hole Sun". It is just slightly worse than you would imagine. Paul Anka and Peter Frampton both failed to eviscerate Soundgarden as completely and totally as Steve & Eydie, though Frampton certainly tried his best, soulless "talk box" and all.

A Poor Counter's Dozen

2007-05-21T08:47:00.000-05:00

"Sledgehammer" - Peter Gabriel
I forget how funky this is. If you can separate it from the video and just listen, it is a very, very good song. I always like Peter Gabriel more than I remember, which makes it even more of a shame that I don't play his stuff more.

"One Man's Ceiling Is Another Man's Floor" - Paul Simon
Slightly eerie piano-led intro makes no sense when it morphs into a light, gospel-inflected track. The transition is seamless, but that intro is wasted on this sub-Nola stomp. With all that criticism, you'd think I didn't like it, but this song works despite all the things I dislike. Except for the piano on the intro & outro, which deserve a different, darker song.

"California Über Alles" - Dead Kennedys
Now here's an intro that perfectly matches the song - the menace is real, the song a true bottle to the head. I lean towards American hardcore & punk over its British counterpart, in part because I like my anger topical; I never knew of Thatcher or tenement flats, but Reagan, Jerry Brown and their ilk were my bugbears. I often forget the vocal kinship that Jello Biafra and Fred Schneider share, as clearly shown by this track and the Albini produced album Just Fred.

"Fa Cè-La" - The Feelies
Jingle-pop with glorious wood block drumming has never equalled this song from the first Feelies album. Rumor is Crazy Rhythms might be coming back in print soon. Not soon enough. I bet this song makes Rivers Cuomo cry.

"Black Flute"- Leftfield
Wherein techno is abbreviated to listenable as opposed to danceable length, while still retaining all of the color-by-numbers aspects. In this case, instead of adding a new element - or "soloing" an existing element - every 30-60 seconds, it happens every 15-20 seconds. What makes dance music fun in a club or at a rave (do those still exist?) makes it awkward to listen to; the formula allows one to dance to the unfamiliar without the ear striving to understand. Novelty in sound tends to get one to stop and listen (as do vocals to some extent, which is why so much "vocal house" and club music is nothing more than a chorus or hook repeated ad nauseam) as opposed to move. By the way, I still like this song, and remember it being played as a "surprise" track to throw people off expectations but keep them dancing to a new variant on the same old same old.

"Mystery Dance" - Elvis Costello
Why this ode to awkward adolescent longing and furtive sexual frustration wasn't used in American Pie is beyond me. I guess since Costello didn't talk about hot "man on pie" action, the producers couldn't make the leap. It's not like ol' E.C. wouldn't have let them use it for the right money. By the way, his first three albums are unassailable as true classics.

"Biloxi (live)" - Ted Hawkins
That voice! One of those voices that just gets me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. This live version beats the studio one from The Next Hundred Years for two reasons. One, he is absolutely at the breaking point before the song's end, tearing his voice as only Ted could. Two, by connecting it with "The Lost Ones" and "Missin' Mississippi", he paints a picture of his roots that is as complete and as heartbreaking as any I can recall.

"A Lover Sings (Peel session)" - Billy Bragg
I've yet to hear any other artist who's BBC radio recordings are as far and away beyond their studio work as Mr. Bragg's. There is a reason he toured those many years all alone (besides his reportedly being a twat); with just a guitar he has the edge and fire necessary to sell his somewhat overly-precious lyrical conceits. That this doesn't make me gag is a sign of a great performance. I mean, "You're the kind of girl who wants to open up the bottle of pop too early in the journey. Our love went flat just like that"? And yet it works this time.

"Everything I Own" - Boy George
Covering Bread via Ken Boothe is one thing; failing to add anything, or even to convince me of the sincerity of the pap, is quite another. Bread - softly, of course - shits all over this, while Ken Boothe drops his load from a much greater height. If I'd seen Boy George on the side of the road picking up trash I would have found something to throw at him, gone home, picked out something really nasty, and driven back to throw that at him, all because of this song.

"Always Crashing The Same Car" - David Bowie
Hearing anything from Low outside its original context is quite strange; the otherness of the sound is striking and unnerving. Though he may have used a still from The Man Who Fell To Earth as the cover of Station To Station, it is Low that has the alien sound. Not threatening, just weird. Like it should have been used on a segment of "Pigs In Space" on the Muppet Show.

Row v. Wade

2007-05-17T17:03:00.000-05:00

Come on in, the water's fine! Podcast 32 is ready.

Tracklist:
"Hospital" - The Lemonheads (from Car Button Cloth)
"Erica Kane" - Urge Overkill (from Saturation)
"S.T. Crooked I.D.E." - Ice Cube/DJ Pooh/E-Swift (from DJ Drank's Greatest Malt Liquor Hits)
"The Chocolate Maiden's Misty Summer Morning" - The Assemble Head In Sunburst Sound (from Ekranoplan)
"Be" - Slade (from Whatever Happened To Slade?)
"I Want You (She's So Heavy)" - Booker T. & The MGs (from McLemore Avenue)
"Prom Theme" - Fountains Of Wayne (from Utopia Parkway)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

When Poptomists Attack

2007-05-16T17:49:00.000-05:00

Pardon the misleading header (really, aren't poptomists too busy praising ephemera to really lay in wait for rockists and jazzbos so they can drop the hammer down?), but I found these questions from Tom Ewing (via M. Matos) kind of interesting.

1. What moment, or trend or era in music have you felt was most important while it was happening?

The rise of rap from the street to chart topping movement in the mid- to late 80s. It seemed to come out of left field, particularly for suburban America. I was pretty oblivious to hip-hop as culture, because I wasn't privy to it as a all-encompassing lifestyle. It was MTV and Rolling Stone and Top 40 radio shedding light on this "radical" new thing.

2. Have there been any moments you felt at the time were important, which don't seem as important with hindsight.

The mainstreaming of college/alternative rock. When Nirvana broke through in 91 (on the heels of the successful and much more outré Lollapalooza tour) I was a freshman in college. Suddenly, the weirdos and radio geeks were cool, and I rode that wave of popularity for all it was worth (it helped that I already looked the part with my 14" mohawk). It was such a feeling of "We won! We won!" Of course the music, once it shed the bargain basement production and poor distribution, really came to look a lot like the classic rock my friends and I bemoaned in high school. "Smells Like Teen Spirit" wasn't "More Than A Feeling" after all. It revitalized rock music after it had been both lipsticked and emasculated as the 80s ended, but it wasn't the "seismic shift" I thought.

3. When you first became aware of pop music as something which had a history, what seemed to you the most important things in the previous ten years?

It was the early 80s; I was familiar with much of the 60s music from my parents collection, but it didn't fit with what my sister liked in the late 70s (Leif Garrett and Shaun Cassidy are not poart of any continuum I acknowledge). But discovering Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin somehow made me realize that there were big, important artists that filled the gap between The Beatles, Stones and Simon & Garfunkel I knew from my parents and Michael Jackson and Van Halen. Not a continuum of sound, but of dominance, of "import". I didn't really hear punk for several years, though I remember hearing about it. It just didn't exist for me as a pre-teen. Much of my music history was imparted by my cousin Kevin, who was 3 or 4 years older; he played me my first Zep and Hendrix, the B-52s and Talking Heads.

Sinister But She Was Happy

2007-05-15T18:00:00.000-05:00

Hitchcock often opens albums powerfully, almost grabbing you and pulling you into the new vision. Moss Elixir opens with this song, all violins and roughly vibrating metal guitar strings. The sound of the strings is more important than the notes; they add an ominous undertone to the sweet soaring violin line high above. It is that contrast that Hitchcock plays with in the lyrics, the happiness to be found in the shadows, the allure of the femme fatale.

It is a hard song for me to talk about because it is wrapped up in layers of memories and anecdotes close to my heart. Moss Elixir was the first Hitchcock album to be released after my wife and I began dating. At the time, she liked some Hitchcock but wasn't a big fan, and she humored my obsession more than she understood it. This song changed that. She really, really loved it from the first listen, and it opened up a door for her to appreciate Robyn, warts and all.

In 1999, she and I saw Hitchcock in Baltimore on the "Rock Armada" tour following the release of Jewels For Sophia. We had found a good spot, about fifteen feet back and off a little to the left of center. About halfway through his set, he played this song. It was a different arrangement (instead of Deni Bonet on violin, Kimberley Rew was playing the guitar with a hand held effects processor, an e-bow or something similar), but just as magical. My wife was quietly singing along, not even loud enough for me to hear. Midway through the song, Robyn looked our way and saw her singing. It may sound like a load of bull, but he watched her singing along with him until the end of the verse, and then smiled, big and broad, before turning away and moving on. Though I've seen better shows, that is far and away my favorite concert memory.

Vibrating

2007-05-14T17:59:00.000-05:00

Thinking back, I believe this may be the first Hitchcock song I ever heard. It is the first I ever possessed; I may have heard "Balloon Man", but this was the song that connected artist and sound. A female friend put this on a mix she made me, placing it second on the tape, following the sorely unsung "Hammer Of Love" by Flesh For Lulu. At the time I wished these two songs were messages, not so subtle hints and thought; sadly, I knew they weren't because she and I spent many long, fruitless hours talking about her mad crush on my best friend. I was sixteen, and the idea of my female friends doing and thinking untoward things occupied most of my thoughts.

Strangely enough, "Vibrating" is a great introductory song. It has a typical Robyn Hitchcock guitar part, spiraling in on itself instead of quite being a circle. The lyrics combine the unseemly with the clever, including a nice aphoristic bit in "to slither is sublime". The beat is steady and strong, the backing vocals going ba bomp/ba bomp aaaaah during the last two verses charming and unnecessary, even though they do reinforce the closing line "she couldn't concentrate".

Thanks Nicole; wouldn't have had this obsession without you and that mixtape.

Monday Musings

2007-05-14T17:08:00.000-05:00

I'm not exactly a fan of Nine Inch Nails (I like the first album and songs here and there), but I am a massive fan of Bauhaus and Peter Murphy's solo output. It is really no surprise then that I enjoyed hearing the radio sessions Trent & Peter recorded when on tour together last year. The four sets from four Eastern US cities range from covers of each other's material to covers of songs they both love (like a passel of Joy Division, a Pere Ubu track and Iggy's "Niteclubbing"). Lots of fun, nothing too revolutionary or revelatory, beyond the fact they sound like they're having fun. Though one thing dawned on me; Peter Murphy is turning into Neil Diamond, just wearing black instead of bangles. They have about the same vocal range and tone, have a penchant for really silly dramatic arm motions, and are both pretending they're not bald or balding. Diamond is a good fifteen years older, but they both rocked roughly the same do at fifty (of course, Neil has rocked the same 'do since about the fifties, so I'm not posting his pic).

Peter Murphy, fully emoting, with comb-forward and burns:

The Cars She Used To Drive

2007-05-11T17:58:00.000-05:00

Those ghastly saxophones! Sadly, the first thing I think of with this song are the hideous pop sax licks that "vamp" in the verses, and then solo in the middle. Probably why I don't listen to the Groovy Decay/Groovy Decoy [both sets compiled in 1995 as Gravy Deco, which is how I will label it] material as much as it deserves. Hitchcock was admittedly in a songwriting slump, but he still managed to put some strong songs on tape only to have them buried under piles of steaming eighties crap in the studio.

This particular track is transitory, in both a topical and sonic sense; the evolutionary step between the agitated punk sounds of "I Watch The Cars" and the shimmering pop of "My Wife And My Dead Wife". Unlike some of the other songs from this ill-fated project, the two versions are not too dissimilar. The Decoy demo version melds Robyn's guitar sound on "Underwater Moonlight" with a minimalist backing not unlike something from Suicide's self-titled first album. But then ghastly sax shows up and smears it's fecal vibe on everything. Decay has a cleaner guitar tone, and Ms. Sara Lee getting downright funky on bass. I swear a stripped down (i.e., no sax) version of the finished Decay track would be a near classic.

To make my point, Robyn and his then recently convened Egyptians absolutely rip through this on the live Gotta Let This Hen Out! album. Without cutting anything but the short saxophone solo, they manage to trim nearly 30 seconds off the studio takes. Morris Windsor and Andy Metcalfe are in full tear/ Andy not as fluid as Sara Lee on bass, but much more aggressive; Morris skittering and bouncing like a waterbug, lots of rim hits and double-time passages (reminiscent of Stuart Copland, a comparison I don't use lightly or often). Even with some cheesy keyboard peaking occasionally through the mix, it is easily the definitive recorded version.

Happy The Golden Prince

2007-05-10T17:57:00.000-05:00

One of the first of the short story songs, I've never really warmed to it the same way I have to "The Can Opener" or the extended intro to "One Long Pair Of Eyes". It was added to the Black Snake Diamond Role album when that first appeared on cd in 85.

It appears to be a metaphorical tale of burgeoning adolescense; Happy is a purple-headed fellow with big pink feet, who oozes white tears from the slot in his neck. Pursuing a pale female he spies outside his father's castle, he finds her "Crouched in the corner of a clearing, her eyes bleeding light into his, wearing a leopard-skin leotard, clutching an antenna to her brow, and muttering "mm-gah" through a megaphone at him." The earth then opens, he falls into the hole head first, and then:

He quivered uncontrollably, aching with every inch of his soul to scratch something, but where he could not tell. His feet were ringing like telephone bells, and his head felt ready to burst. His cloak flapped open over his head like a bat's, and he became aware that the well was growing hotter and more muscular. It seemed strangely enough to be shrinking about him like a skin around a fine pork sausage, yet he didn't mind. His whole life at the castle lay behind him now, sterile and eventless.
He thought only how he would love to sneeze, and felt nothing but relief when the cool arms of the woman vigorously unscrewed his head, and the toothpaste flowed out, as if it were gushing from a broken dam, into the very womb of the earth.

Okay, its a sex dream.

I think that if the last minute was the core of the song, where Robyn sings the title over and over, gradually rising in volume, I'd like it more. Or maybe if it was a capella; the backing track, with crashing cymbals and the minor key guitar figures, makes it hard to focus on the words. Of course, that is the point, isn't it? It's not a recitation but a performance. Just not one I listen to often.

Air Of Menace

2007-05-10T09:42:00.000-05:00

Menace, not Venice. It is that time again, when your friendly neighborhood podcaster delivers another care package for the intelligentsia.

I'm going back to "click the pic" technology, and I was asked for a list, like I used to post on Podomatic.

Tracklist:
"Move On" - David Bowie (from Lodger)
"One Step Ahead" - Split Enz (from History Never Repeats)
"Words Of Love" - Buddy Holly (from From The Original Master Tapes)
"I Heard It Through The Grapevine" - Marvin Gaye (from The Master)
"You You" - The Natives (from Trojan Rocksteady)
"I Walk On Guilded Splinters" - Dr. John, The Night Tripper (from Gris-Gris)

Intro & Outro: "Easy Snappin" - Theophilus Beckford (from Trojan Battlefield)

Mr. Deadly

2007-05-09T17:57:00.000-05:00

I wrote the following on June 15, 2003:

"Mr. Deadly" is a track from Robyn Hitchcock's Invisible Hitchcock that just emerged from my computer speakers as I was tweaking the template for this weblog. I just put my 6800 mp3's on random and let my computer "entertain" me when I'm doing mundane tasks like updating links, and was blindsided by this song. I've probably heard it at least 100 times, and I've never really taken a shine to it. Hitchcock's greatest songs tend to be (understandably) guitar driven. "Mr. Deadly" is all keyboard - moody chords, flat early eighties drums (the sound to me was always a bongo with a sock on it) - complete with a vocal echo & multitrack chorus, and a Tones on Tail menacing atmospheric wash.

Randomly the radio that wanders through the stations like a train
Flickers on the dashboard as the melody dissolves into his brain

"Mr. Deadly" has surprised me. It's the case of a certain song finding a way to be heard, a way to connect to a listener at a specific time and place. Today is overcast outside, my mind is tired and sluggish, and a slow miasma of a knowing step-outside the lines of convention and expectation has invaded my cells through porous walls. I may hate it tomorrow, a trite and cheesy eighties mistake. But oh, "Mr. Deadly", you're comfort and succor keep me whole.

And all who hear him say you must be further gone then they
And all who hear him say he must be mad to be himself around today
Around today
Around today

Surgery

2007-05-09T17:56:00.000-05:00

"Surgery" has a strange history. Robyn made a video, appending it to the Gotta Let This Hen Out home video released in 1985. It next surfaced on a flexi-disc (remember those? The ultimate in vinyl ephemera, the opposite of those 180 gram collector's editions - rip it out and watch the square rotate!) in Bob magazine in 1987, finally reaching a sort of permanence on the 1995 compilation You & Oblivion.

The video is where I first came across it, and the video itself is as weird as the song's history. It is Clutch Cargo without the drawings, uncomfortably focused on Robyn's mouth. He twitches, fighting the head-bobbing and sideways motions that color his live performances. The effect is hypnotic, in the same way the song is; extremely low key and subdued, but not passive. The doubling and tripling of his voice with each successive chorus is nearly unique in his catalog, and he almost cracks in the high register as the song ends. And it just ends. Strum and done.

Like many of Robyn's songs I have no idea what it's about. What is "it" that he refers to in each verse - you'll never have it out/wear it out/wash it out? What do the colors have to do with the aforementioned "it" -red/blue/pink/green, and their associations -writ in blood/never as dark/do more damage/lovely and obscene? I once tried to make it fit with MacBeth. Now I just sing along and tap my hand to the beat on the side of my car. It's a catchy little demented pop song, if nothing else. After all, Robyn said in an interview, "Maybe the documentary [Robyn Hitchcock: Sex, Food Death ... And Insects, shown recently on the Sundance channel] will help show that it's not simply about my lyrics. I'm glad people notice I have them, but if lyrics were that important, I'd just write poems."

The Robyn Hitchcock Song Project

2007-05-09T16:07:00.000-05:00

By popular non-demand, I've decided to start another blog I can update haphazardly. It is my version of the latest thing - take an artist and write something about each and every song they've released. Since the first music blog I had was called The Devil's Radio, I almost had to share my obsession with Dr. Sticky himself. It was destiny.

So check out I Got A Message For You. I'll try to keep on top of it; just getting through 400-odd songs is gonna take a while, no matter how committed I am.

The Crashing Waves Of Proggy Metal

2007-05-09T12:17:00.000-05:00

Hailing from Corralitos in the mountainous terrain of inland Santa Cruz county, Mammatus describe their sound as "the final war between amps and sea creatures". Judging by their latest album, The Coast Explodes, the sea creatures that inspire them aren't placid sponges or phytoplankton-gorging krill. These Californians mean the older, larger, stranger ocean-dwellers, the mythical beasts that surface on the Lenox Globe beneath a banner reading "Hic Sunt Dracones".

The Coast Explodes picks up directly from where their self-titled debut left off, with the third part of the epic "Dragon Of The Deep" (the word epic is not used lightly as the three pieces collectively top the 42-minute mark). Though a thematic continuation, the sound has changed slightly. "Dragon Of The Deep, Part Two" closed the first album with bristling, heavy, acid-soaked psychedelic doom. "Part Three" opens with the same high-pitched guitar feedback that closed "Part Two", but 20-odd seconds in a quick, very mid-seventies progressive rock figure is introduced, rapidly followed by a second quick figure of over-driven guitar which would not sound out of place on an Iron Maiden album. Mammatus, in one short year, has expanded their sound from circa-1972 to circa-1976; the space-rock has met prog and is touching at the beginnings of NWOBHM. This inspired amalgam lasts for the first six-minutes before giving way to the retro-psychedelia of the heavily reverbed vocals (Mammatus' singer, Zachary Patton, has a relatively high-pitched voice with a bit of softness to it, reminiscent at times of Perry Farrell without the whine). The pace slows, and the call to arms - "Take up your sword/Raise up your shield" - comes across as a softer version of the ceremonial chants at the heart of Sleep's Dopesmoker, only with a message akin to Shakespeare's Henry V before the battle of Agincourt.

The lyrical thrust of the album keeps with that martial (but hopeful) theme; rise with the sun's/Son's light to clear away the darkness. This duality is explicit in the lyrics to "Pierce The Darkness", but does not veer into preachiness. It is the view that nature and divinity are entwined; they come across not as dogmatic but more an awakening to the majesty of creation and the strength and salvation that may be drawn from it. To reinforce that point, the sound of the album is reflective of nature, with long, soaring passages evoking flight and the swirling winds, repetitive washes of feedback coupled with cymbals and toms to mirror the waves crashing on the shore.

This evocation of nature does lead to the one glaring misstep on The Coast Explodes; actual sea lion barks and squelches make an appearance on "The Changing Wind". This song, which serves as a break between the longer, heavier tracks leading into and out of it, pales in comparison to "The Outer Rim", a Pink Floyd homage that served the same purpose on the debut. Easily described (and dismissed) as "Man Man goes freak folk", complete with a weeble-wobble-wooble-weeble-weeble-wooble chant over sub-Vetiver acoustic noodling. Plus sea lions.

Luckily Mammatus redeem themselves with the album closing title track. The song is built around a guitar riff that sounds somewhat like Tony Iommi playing around with Led Zeppelin's "The Crunge" at half his usual attack. The loping gait over the steady drums is instantly intriguing, and builds nicely to a strong, full sound before cutting back to allow a slow spoken word interlude that again brings to mind Perry Farrell and Jane's Addiction, in particular "Summertime Rolls". The casual Iommi guitar returns, and Mammatus alternate passages and styles again. This song shows most clearly the strides they've made since their first album; where the longer tracks there were heavy, thick waves of feedback and haphazard grooves, "The Coast Explodes" is a 12-minute track where there is a practiced precision to each step, a surety and strength that is crafted instead of jammed. While furious riffing and "riding the groove" may make for a powerful stage performance (and a fun - if flawed - first effort), the refinement of ideas on The Coast Explodes indicate Mammatus is more than just a band to see, but to hear. Just lose the sea lions.

There is No Rule Six

2007-05-03T08:18:00.000-05:00

But I did just finish podcast #30.

Quick Hits

2007-04-30T12:25:00.000-05:00

Things bringing joy to Mudville since Casey has struck out:

1. Super Furry Animals
Q: How have I completely missed the recorded output of these Welshmen? A: The Manic Street Preacher's The Holy Bible turned me off 90s rock from Wales entirely, it being overhyped, generic post-grunge guitar rock that made me long for Bush and Candlebox. Listening to Songbook Vol. 1 makes me think pop music could have been so much more interesting if SFA were huge in the place of other UK bands - namely Oasis, Blur & Radiohead. Though all of these band did some great stuff, "The Man Don't Give A Fuck" is just masterful.

2. The National
I thought their last album(Alligator) was boring, generic, and entirely wasteful of my time and attention. Their upcoming release Boxer is none of those things. Though my first impression was a little "meh", further listening has really opened it up for me. It is an understated grower, mellow but not sleepy, orchestral without being twee or precious.

3. Q-Tip
How many unreleased albums can one legend accumulate before his label puts something out? I've mentioned Kamaal The Abstract before; now I have a copy of Open which was supposed to be out in 2005. He was even giving interviews and making the press rounds before it was shelved. Not as experimental or as steeped in the 70s as Kamaal, it is instead a melding of the neo-soul sound that peaked around the centuries turn and classic hip-hop beats. Reportedly, Q-Tip is reworking some of this material for his yet untitled 2007 release. Expect it to be shelved once recording is completed.

4. The Rub
Brooklynradio.net hosts The Rub radio broadcasts as downloads. DJ Ayres, DJ Eleven and Cosmo Baker have been doing shows entitled "The History of Hip-Hop", and thus far have done eleven volumes covering 1979-1989, with one show dedicated to each year. Great way to either remember the songs of your youth or get a lesson in the roots (or a little of both, as has been the case for me).

5. Frank Zappa
I'm a Zappa fan but not a fanatic, and I greet each new release from the vaults with a bit of skepticism. The latest "new" Zappa release, Buffalo (a show from the 1980 band, wherein the band rock the crap out of upstate New York), shows Frank and co. at their most powerful and technically adept. Whether tearing through an incredibly fast version of "Keep It Greasy" that highlights Arthur Barrow's bass-playing ability (imagine the speed of the solo from Rancid's "Maxwell Murder" as the backbone of an entire track) or nearing a metal version of Steely Dan with Steve Vai's guitar work on "City Of Tiny Lites", this latest bit of Barko-Swill is a keeper.

Cold Chillin'

2007-04-27T12:33:00.001-05:00

I was out running errands, listening to disc 3 of VU's The Quine Tapes and found myself in a mall parking lot replaying "I'm Waiting For The Man". Again. And again. I had to have sat there, listening, for over half an hour. The entire experience was strange; I had listened to both the song and the album numerous times, but it was as if I had never heard it before. The version recorded on November 27, 1969 changed my perception of how the song could be interpreted.

Let me make the assumption that there is at least passing familiarity with the version of the track from The Velvet Underground & Nico. Aggressive accompaniment (Reed & Morrison's staccato fretwork, Cale's atonal Jerry Lee Lewis percussive piano), with jittery, anxious vocals by Reed in a first-person tale of an addict. This, in my listening experience, was also the model for the live performances, both before and after Cale's departure (see 1969: Live and disc 1 of The Quine Tapes, where the song's structure is essentially the same, though the band wanders a bit and lack some of the propulsion Cale's piano led to the proceedings).

Now to jump back to the recording from 11/27/69. From the start there is a difference. Where the early recordings had immediate motion, even if by 1969 they were somewhat unfocused, this is shambolic. There is no jitter, shudder or motion. The rhythm is lethargic, as if the band was laying down instead of laying it down. The drop in tempo turns the the lead guitar from pointillist dots and sharp punctuation to swirly, hazy ellipses (I hope people are used to my groan-inducing turns of phrase by now). Reed changes his vocal style from the crisp nervous diction, staccato shake and focused craving to one of relaxed ambivalence. He's adding verses – seemingly on the fly – riffing off of the circular motifs of the guitar to remember:

Ever since I was a little boy
Had the strangest dream
Everything that I saw
Didn't seem to be what it seemed

The whole performance is dreamlike. Milky. There is a floating feeling throughout; just the tiniest tether of Moe Tucker's solid beat, a pulse that makes it all real.

As the song drifts past the nine-minute mark, the singer finally scores:

Go on up to a Brownstone, up three flights of stairs
Everybody's pinned you, but nobody cares (oh no)
He's got the works, gives you sweet taste
Then he's gotta split because he's got no time to waste
I'm waiting for my man

This is a significant change; the original lyric is "Then you gotta split because you got no time to waste" (You can hear Doug Yule, Cale's replacement, is singing these original lines in the background). The change is indicative of the entire take – where once was a tale of craving, of needing the fix, feeling the fire ripping at the guts, desperately trying to keep it together just long enough – the need now switches to the seller, who has other mouths to fill, so to speak. There is now a reason for this wistful, strolling take on the song; the singer is already fixed, just picking up more before the hunger ever hits. By tweaking these few words there is a sea change of meaning (the several added verses are mainly color, though their mere addition is further indication of the lack of urgency on the part of the singer), and the last verse changes tone from "leave me alone, the future doesn't matter" to "Hey, I've got it under control, we're good for now":

Hey baby don't you holler - darling, don't you bawl and shout
You know that I'm feeling good, gonna work it on out
I'm feeling good, feeling so fine
Until tomorrow, but that's just some other time
I'm waiting for my man

"I'm Waiting For The Man" - The Velvet Underground, as performed 11/27/69

[Note: This is a piece that has gone through many incarnations. It was the first thing I wrote last spring when I was thinking of blogging again (in fact, it is on the web in the original incarnation, if people want to try to find it), and was revisited as a "test run" for a podcast idea last fall. I was unhappy with both attempts as they stood, so decided in the wake of the Guitar amps post to revisit and revise. It isn't quite there yet, but I think it is stronger than before. Makes me wish I had an editor, or had ever taken a comp or journalism class.]

Is There Anybody Out There?

2007-04-26T09:21:00.000-05:00

I believe I have two listeners. Prove me wrong and give a podcaster a break.

Get Podcast 29 for yourself!

What To Do When What You Do Won't Do

2007-04-25T10:12:00.000-05:00

"She Sells Sanctuary" - The Cult
In the latest iteration of the ongoing Great Music Geek Survey, Alex made this his choice for "What song can make a shitty day seem less shitty?" He's right you know. It makes everything alright, even shitty eighties drums.

"Rain" - The Beatles
Speaking of drums, Ringo gets a great deal of crap for his drumming, which is injustice writ large. 1966 was Ringo's year. I love that the song was played faster and than slowed in the studio to get the somewhat woozy instrumental sound.

"Bron-Yr-Aur Stomp" - Led Zeppelin
The big cats at the birth of "heavy metal" sure could swing! Zep & Sabbath had stunningly good rhythm sections, though except for John Bonham they remain relatively unsung. John Paul Jones is all over this - bends and slides, supple and swinging. Robert Plant's casual power also duly noted.

"Cinnamon Girl" - Neil Young
As I near my eighth wedding anniversary, I still can be happy the rest of my life with my cinnamon girl. Though my exclamation's of joy aren't as tentative and shy as Neil's wondrous "woo" as the song nears it's end.

"Leaves That Are Green" - Simon and Garfunkel
Whatever is making that chukka-chukka backing sound (is it the autoharp with strings muted?) is my favorite rhythmic device of the moment. Quietly perfect, with Simon confidently singing right in the sweet spot of his vocal range.

"Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll" - Ian Dury
There is no American parallel to the one and only Dury. Swinging, sexy, punk with a piano solo. There is nothing tentative about Ian's yelping exclamations, or the fervency of his belief that "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll are all my brain and body need".

What's the Amplitude, Lou?

2007-04-23T12:05:00.000-05:00

A while back, when raving and drooling over the David Bowie & Stevie Ray Vaughan rehearsal bootleg, I mentioned a Velvet Underground bootleg entitled The Legendary Guitar Amp Tapes. Recorded at a club called The Boston Tea Party (in Boston, natch) on March 15, 1969, the Velvet Underground run through a set of songs from their first three albums, with a couple of oddities thrown in. I'm sure if you were there, the show was comparable to other sets from that year, captured on the official albums 1969: Live and Bootleg Series, Vol. 1: The Quine Tapes, as well as numerous boots. However, in Boston that early Spring we find either the most incompetent or ingenious taper of the day; instead of setting up his gear to get the sound of the P.A., we get a recording made from in front of Lou Reed's guitar amp.

So how does it sound? Pretty much how you would guess from the title. On the quieter tracks like "I'm Set Free" and "Jesus", the mix is just a little off, with vocals quite discernible if distant; both Sterling's guitar and Moe Tucker's full kit are relatively audible; Doug Yule on keys or bass comes across a bit muddled (in my experience, most bootlegs from this era lack any sort of clarity on the low end). Lou is crisp and loud on these tracks, but not overwhelming. On anything that even has a hint of rumble and drive, from mid-tempo tracks like "Beginning To See The Light" to more up-tempo songs like "What Goes On" and "Sister Ray", Lou's guitar sound is almost all you hear. Tucker's snare and kick-drum come through just alright, often barely enough for the listener to keep the tempo in mind, while the vocals might as well be in another room and the rest of the band almost ceases to exist. "Sister Ray" has enough space here and there for the keyboard to come through with the expected vamping familiar from other live versions, but is regularly dunked deep below the surface of the oceans of squeals and feedback Lou is marshaling.

A good example of this "so in-your-face from the get-go as to be unbelievable" sound is the opener, "I Can't Stand It". It is joined in progress, though pretty close to the beginning. Lou is playing the riff cleanly, bending a note here or there for emphasis; Moe Tucker can be heard above, cymbals crashing, snare and kick just laying the barest groove, steady and simple; far, far, away you can hear Lou singing, and if you know the song you can follow along, filling the gaps where he drops below audibility, "If you just come back it'll be alright". It's moving along as you expect, and that groove is there, almost undeniable. But at 1:50, Lou let's go and everything drops out besides a quiet kick, an occasional snare snap. Wailing single notes bend and scream, to be replaced by jagged chords, to be supplanted again by bent notes and peels of noise. It isn't beautiful;there is no hint of Hendrix-style lyricism, or the fluid explorations of Clapton in Cream; it is a growl, an attack that goes on for the next 2:40 before just ending, as Lou prepares for the next verse and chorus, and Sterling Morrison can be heard playing the main guitar figure across the stage. One verse, one chorus, then 30 seconds of vamp-into-noise to bring the song to it's end. Over half the song is blaring guitar, growling, vamping, moaning, howling, stark. Other songs touch this burning ember, but none reach the same incandescent glow.

In a lot of ways this recording is a novelty. There are good recordings of this same band just a few months later, where the mix is more even and the interplay and variation that made them such a reputable live act is readily apparent. Yet, I keep listening to this weird document, as often or more than the official recordings mentioned above or the highly recommended Live at End Cole Avenue bootleg (the full Dallas show that some of the 1969: Live recordings are pulled from, in better quality than the official release). There is something exciting about this album, such a harsh, bright spotlight on Reed's soloing, so in your face and astounding. It isn't the Velvet Underground as a band but Lou Reed, Noise Impresario.

It is such a singular thing that it has a webpage dedicated to it, complete with audio samples. Praise Ye The Lord, indeed.

I'm Drowning Here!

2007-04-19T14:59:00.001-05:00

Though the day be sunny, the waters are slow to recede. While you're waiting, you can listen to me prattle and hum.

The Majesty of Rock

2007-04-18T16:35:00.000-05:00

Now that power is restored, no large trees are threatening to fall on my house and nearby dams are no longer near the breaking point, I'm able to share my most metal evening.

Saturday night I headed up the road to Portland to catch a show by Relapse labelmates Minsk and Rwake (Which I now know is pronounced "Wake". The well-known silent "R" rears its Rhead). For this one night they were joined by local metal mavens Conifer and Ocean, who bookended the show.

I was excited to hear Conifer as this was originally scheduled to be a release party for their first record in a couple of years. Unfortunately, they had no new product to unveil and were not forthcoming on the reason beyond a cryptic comment about mastering I got from the drummer after the show. The short set (they played about 20 minutes) was comprised of new material, which, to my ears, seemed to have more "swing". A weird statement when it comes to describing instrumental heavy post-rock, but the rhythm section came closer to a stoner groove than say, Pelican. It was definitely a good development and I look forward to hearing how this translates onto disc. As I said, the set was short, and felt like it was cut off as they were building momentum. Luckily, I should be able to catch them again soon as they've been playing around lately working the new material into shape.

Minsk followed after a quick equipment shuffle (with three band's amps piled on stage, Conifer's drummer actually played on the floor in front, facing his bandmates). I was hoping for a great performance as I've really grown to love their latest album, The Ritual Fires Of Abandonment. They did not disappoint as musicians; a very tight and powerful rhythm section where the bass really drove the propulsive elements, allowing the drummer the freedom to add lots of color and counterpoint, coupled with a guitarist whose tone varied from soft, almost classical sounds to full down-tuned sludge of ear-hurting intensity (I wisely wore earplugs). Sadly, the vocalist was not on the same level as the rest of the band. He was adding washes of noise and fuzz with a keyboard which limited his role as a front man, leaving the band without a visual focal point. This made their 15-minute dirges a little tough to swallow; the crowd had to just wait for the song to build and build till the eventual release, and there was little to capture them in the meantime. This would all be excusable if it was perfectly done (I've seen a band enrapture an audience by sheer precision and force of execution), but beyond his stationary stylings, the singer had issues. Several times he seemed to almost lose his place and then take too long singing the verses, and at one point the band had to audibly slow down to get back in sync. I don't want to speculate as to what might have been the cause, but it did detract from what was, musically, a very skillful and powerful performance. The set was again short; four bands made the night more a showcase than a typical concert. Minsk may have been better served by a different set list, as closer "White Wings" (a straight forward stoner-doom burner) had the crowd moving and the singer was on point.

Rwake took the stage next and my expectations were kind of low. I haven't warmed to their recent album Voices of Omens; I find the vocals way too forward (and guttural x2) for my taste. The music sounds great though, and I hoped live the balance would be more to my liking. I am glad to say it was all I could want and much, much more. I knew nothing about the band, so when a Peter Jackson lookalike (he wore a LOTR shirt to make it even more apparent) and a slight women with ass-length dreads came to the front and just ROARED I was surprised. When a dual guitar wave of brutal doom crested high overhead I just smiled and felt my filings rattle. They reclaimed the crowd from the near apathy of Minsk's set and got feet moving and head's banging. I have a soft spot for drummers who sing along though there is no mic in sight; it shows total commitment to the band. Their drummer was right there, flailing and wailing, even mouthing the samples the female singer was triggering to start the songs. Visually, they were perfectly balanced; stage right, the heavy-set male singer and the twin hirsute stick figures of the rhythm guitarist and bass player; center was the drummer; stage left, the small female singer and the lead guitarist, who looked like Kyle Gass impersonating Rick Neilsen. Rwake was both tight and loose, playing as one core but unafraid to let things shake about. The crowd was singing along to songs from all three of their albums, and the band was definitely feeding and feeling this devoted audience. At least three times the lead singer talked about how this was there first visit to Maine, how great Portland was, that they would be scheduling a stop here on their next tour this summer, and how much they loved us all. Of course, I talked to him after his set and he started the conversation by saying, "Thanks. I'm so fucked up now, man. You ever Robo?" and then looked past me into space. It is probably safe to assume a good portion of his stage banter was empty platitudes, but it worked to keep the crowd in the palm of his hand.

After a sweaty, pounding 40 minute set, the gear was switched again and local stalwarts Ocean took the stage. For those of you unfamiliar with Ocean, they are a reduction – a distillation, if you will – of doom to some sort of primal essence. Stoner sludge, like that of Rwake, has energy and motion, even at its slowest. Ocean is like the sludge that has settled to the floor of it's namesake and is just moments away from lithification; you may think there is motion, but you have not the ability to detect it. On record they are dark and heavy, a down-tuned note in place of a chord, another sounded just a beat past when the listener expects it, the slowest of slow builds to reach a dying pulse and then dropping back toward zero, all over a 20+ minute time frame. I realize, mere moments into their set, that the album doesn't do them justice. Partly it is because I don't have a soundsystem that can put out the necessary volume; they are so loud, so bass heavy, that my jeans ripple against my legs with every note. The sound is moving such a volume of air as to cause my bones to hum and after a few minutes I feel that I am vibrating in resonance with their music; I am hearing an internal harmonic they are not playing. It isn't painful (I've been at shows where the bass is so heavy I've felt nauseous and seen people throw up), but strangely uplifting. I've never felt as part of a show, if that makes sense. As in sync as the other three bands were (overall this was one of the most professional shows I've seen), Ocean's oneness was unique. It is very hard to play so slow and controlled, to keep adrenaline at bay; their sound is also so spartan as to highlight even the slightest variation in speed or attack. The four men moved and played in near perfect alignment, and though their sound was dark (and I assume their few lyrics were as well, but another case of guttural-itis made them completely unintelligible to these ears) the crowd was elated. The deep bending head-banging of both band and audience was something to behold, as they reared back and rocked onto their heels, only to plunge down to waist level with each cascading strum (sadly, my head-banging days are long gone, a victim of neck and back injuries a decade ago). Ocean played only one song, and nearly stole the show with it.

It was my first metal show in roughly fifteen years. It won't be fifteen until the next.

Mo' Snowcasting

2007-04-12T10:41:00.000-05:00

My podcasts are bringing 4-8" of snow each week. Perhaps there is a message being sent. If this continues into June I might pay attention.

Get it here, assuming you are so inclined.

Things Are What You Make Of Them

2007-04-09T09:52:00.000-05:00

Strange playlist for today:

"MIA (Piracy Funds Terrorism version)" - M.I.A.
Diplo crafts a dark, miasmatic sound for Maya's darkest, deepest song. Shame it was just tacked onto the released album as a hidden bonus track,with a much weaker mix to boot.

"Co Pilot" - New Kingdom
Wrote all about these chaps a few weeks back, but damn does this sound good; all circular groove, psychedelic through repetition.

"Grooving On An Inner Plane (Black Snake Diamond Role version)" - Robyn Hitchcock
Synthesizer hand claps lead Robyn into a dark place, one that forms the inadvertent link between "Kings Of The Wild Frontier" and "True Men Don't Kill Coyotes". Except it's sorta good.

"Sonja" - Lyle Lovett
The long tall Texan digs deep in his vault and finds a pearl (mixed metaphors are my idiom). From lost love to pick-up tips in just a few lovely verses.

"Fish" - The Clean
What I wanted from Joy Division The Clean provided.

"Slow (live)" - My Bloody Valentine
I read Mike McGonigal's excellent 33 1/3 series book on Loveless this weekend, wherein Kevin Shields cites this song as the first step to the pivotal guitar sound that encompasses that recording. Still one of my favorite MBV tracks; it sounds like what I imagine a Codeine cough syrup high to be. Much more interesting than chopped & screwed.

Podcast Migration

2007-04-04T10:18:00.000-05:00

Because I've been growing increasingly unhappy with the backend of the service I was using, I'm just going to post a link for people to download. If you haven't heard one of my podcasts before, don't start with this one. I was feeling extra mellow and it shows in my tracklist.

For those about to nod off, we salute you.

In Perpetuatuaty

2007-04-03T13:39:00.000-05:00

Matthew Perpetua, well known for his Fluxblog and his poptastic sensibilities, has started an interesting project called Pop Songs 07. His goal is to write about every R.E.M. track from every album, as well as select non-album singles. I think this is interesting, in fact moreso than Fluxblog itself. So far he's mixed analysis with personal anecdotes, and even commented on current context in regards to "Radio Song". It's nice to see Matthew reflect a bit, as his general style comes across as somewhat "Hipster forecasting" – the next is now!, until tomorrow's next is now!, and so on and so forth. In truth, I still have the Fluxblog link more because Matthew was one of the people to involve himself with my writing at prior blogs (along with Thomas of Oh, Manchester and Paul, currently active again at Hallmonitor; all their links are in the sidebar) than for his current content. My tastes and his rarely intersect these days.

It is an interesting idea - obsessively commenting on one artist's oeuvre. I'll keep track of Matthew's progress, if only to learn a bit more about him and R.E.M.'s catalog, which is one I've only dipped my toes in now and again. Who knows - if people clamber for it, I could give it a shot with Robyn Hitchcock's vast spotty mess of recorded history.

Lost & Found

2007-04-03T11:02:00.000-05:00

The internet can be a kind mistress. Because I love live shows and "in process" recordings, I scour here and there for that missing demo session or live radio broadcast that adds another angle to my favorite artists. Sometimes you get real gems like the Bowie/Stevie Ray Vaughan, sometimes you find interesting but not mind-blowing things like a radio broadcast of Randy Newman with the Amsterdam Orchestra. But the internet can also yield up recordings that are more important for what they represent than for what they are. I've recently gotten my hands on two legendary pieces of eighties ephemera and kind of wish I hadn't.

The first is Pussy Galore's Exile On Main Street. A cassette only release that is their version of the Stones classic, it contains plenty of Pussy Galore's patented noise and practiced ineptitude (Spencer was very exacting in the amount of incompetence exhibited in both their playing and recording, and that care comes across in spades here). Both an homage and a calculated piss-take, you get to hear them argue about trying to read a lyric sheet, sing and play along to the very audible original Stones' recordings, use tape manipulation and feedback overdubs to obscure songs, and generally screw about. As a concept, I think it is a great idea. Unfortunately, this is pretty much my opinion of Pussy Galore - I always liked the idea of what they did better than the execution. It ends up pretty much a one-trick pony, and by the end the band and this listener don't care. I think I would have been better off just hearing the few tracks off of Corpse Love, because that gave me the impression this was a lost gem, which it most surely is not.

The second cassette I now have MP3s of is by perhaps my favorite American band, The Replacements. In 1985, just prior to their first release on Sire records, former label Twin/Tone released The Shit Hits The Fans, a live show taken from a bootlegger at an Oklahoma gig in 84. It is an interesting document; The 'Mats had long had a reputation as a hit-or-miss live act, primarily based on their level of alcoholic intoxication. This shows the boys at their worst, attempting covers to songs they don't all know, murdering a number of their own songs with a missed chorus here and entirely wrong riffs there, and exhibit a general level of incompetence most people would walk out on. But the crowd here is game for it, shouting encouragement when they play the opening of "I Would Follow" and "Iron Man"; when they attempt "Radio Free Europe" you hear someone in the audience yell out a whoop of sorts, as Paul Westerberg out-mumbles Michael Stipe (which is hard to do, when you think about the incomprehensibility of most of the early R.E.M. recordings). It is just as big a mess as I'd always heard, and in some ways I find it endearing. It isn't "warts and all" - just warts. There is pretty much nothing they do here that redeems itself, which is something most bands would find trouble doing five years into their careers. I don't know if I'll listen to it much, mainly because I've come across some boots where they sound like the greatest band in the world, and that is how I like to think of them (which is also why I don't acknowledge Don't Tell A Soul - it never happened).

Run For Your Life, It's MechaJackzilla!

2007-03-28T06:21:00.000-05:00

If anyone missed the news, Michael Jackson is in talks to unleash a 50-foot tall Jackobot on the Las Vegas desert, complete with laser beam eyes.

This might get me to Vegas - I would feel compelled to start a Six-String Samurai inspired quest to take down "The King of Pop".

Pretty Vacant

2007-03-26T16:26:00.000-05:00

In comments to the last post, Alex called me out on my nomination of the Sex Pistols as the "Inaugural entry into the Academy of the Overrated". I wanted to craft a short pithy response, but I don't do pithy particularly well (snarky? rude? condescending? Oh, I can do that). So in my attempt to justify my choice, I ended up with something that seemed a bit much for a comment box.

First, some personal history. I'm too young to have any concurrent memories of the class of '77 (at 4 1/2 I was all about Batman). Add in the fact that I'm not British, and the very particular cultural and social references the Pistols make don't translate. As a topper, I grew up in a rural/suburban setting and the "disaffected urban youth" identifier doesn't carry any significance.

Bereft of this ancillary weight, I have only the music – Never Mind The Bollocks and a few scattered singles (I don't hold the continued desecration of the corpse of their short career against them). What to make of it; a few songs I really like, namely "Bodies" and "E.M.I."; a few I don't mind, say "Pretty Vacant" and their Stooge-lite version of "No Fun"; the might-have-been-revolutionary-now-not-so-much-fun-even of "God Save The Queen" and "Anarchy In The U.K." (both of which are innocuous), and stuff I can't remember because I didn't care enough to pay attention.

Culturally, I've read about their importance, and understand it as an historic truth. The two Julian Temple films, The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle and The Filth and the Fury, are both really interesting documents, and really hammer home the non-musical importance of the Pistols; but nothing I've seen, read or heard makes me understand the importance of their music. It really wasn't about the music, was it? How can it be, when the Stooges and Ramones did it better before, the Clash did it better at the same time, and soon thereafter the Dead Kennedys took it further than little Johnny Lydon and company (as did little Johnny with PiL, the much, much better band)? I understand that the Clash and the DKs wouldn't have existed without the Pistols, but that's further proof of their importance to the musical culture, not their music's worth on it's own.

I don't see how they can't be part of the Inaugural Class of the Academy of the Overrated based solely on the 40-odd minutes of mid-tempo mediocrity that they released in their short lifespan. Their historic import will always be there; an inarguably important band for what they did, not for what they put on tape.

A Few Questions Answered

2007-03-25T13:01:00.000-05:00

Phil (of Running The Voodoo Down) asked his reader's to answer a series of questions and post them in his comments. I thought they were interesting enough to share with my readers and to make the same request to fill up my comment box. What follows are Phil's questions and my answers:

1) What song or album did you have to listen to multiple times before deciding whether you liked or disliked it
Kinks - Muswell Hillbillies. Ended up being my favorite Kinks album, but it didn't sound like anything I liked about the Kinks.

2) Inaugural entry into the Academy of the Overrated
Sex Pistols. Wonderful product, horrible music.

3) Favorite sly or not-so-sly reference to another song within a song
AC/DC - "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap". I still smile when he throws "TNT" and "High Voltage" as possible ways to ff the offending personage.

4) Favorite Stax/Volt song
Only one... today, it's "Able Mable". Tomorrow could be "Bootleg", or "You Don't Miss Your Water" or a dozen other tracks.

5) Your favorite music video
I haven't watched many videos since I was a kid, but I still like "Sledgehammer" and maybe "Sabotage".

6) Nas or Jay-Z?
Nas, but more by default than choice. I've always gritted my teeth at Jay-Z's habit of lazily falling off the beat. If the line you write is meant to fit the rhythm in a tight and meticulous fashion (as opposed to MCs who play off the beat like jazz soloists, working to accentuate their rhymes and flow), then hit the mark. Don't drift away on the fifth line, never to return.

7) Song or album that, despite being from a genre you don't typically follow, led you to appreciate that genre's possibilities
I'm not big on the ambient or post-rock genres, but the MONO/World's End Girlfriend album Palmless Prayer/Mass Murder Refrain is one of the best things I've heard in the last six months. Evocative and beautiful.

8) Favorite Rolling Stones song
"Little T&A", but I'm not much of a Stones fan.

9) The Clash or the Ramones?
The Clash, but the best of both are pretty unimpeachable.

10) What song can make a shitty day seem less shitty?
"Bring It On Home To Me" - Sam Cooke, from Live At The Harlem Square Club.

11) Conversely, what song can make you wish you were deaf, at least temporarily, whenever it comes on the radio/TV/grocery store PA?
"Paradise By The Dashboard Light" - Meatloaf fills me with thoughts of violence, pure white hot rage.

12) Favorite James Brown song
"Licking Stick-Licking Stick", from Say It Loud - I'm Black and I'm Proud.

13) Beck or Bjork?
Bjork by a landslide. Excepting Mutations, I could pretty much leave all of Beck's catalog alone.

14) What is the most inventive usage of a sample you've ever heard?
I'm unsure of what is really the heart of this question - I've been surprised (say, Timbaland sampling Area Code 615 for Bubba Sparxxx), I've been impressed (Paul's Boutique), but inventive? Maybe the Butthole Surfers with "22 Going On 23" - they took a radio call in help show and made the most disturbing, menacing and dark thing I've ever heard.

15) Robert Christgau once wrote that "All good rock and roll risks fascism simply by generating mass energy, and much of it flirts with sexism simply by exploring the music's traditional subject matter. Sometimes the risks are worth it, sometimes they aren't." What are your favorite examples of the former and the latter?
I don't see any truth in this statement.

16) Favorite Miles Davis song
Not really a fan, but I like some of the late 60s quintet recordings, say "Nefertiti".

17) Favorite song about comic book characters
"Alley Oop".

18) Betty Davis or Millie Jackson?
Death.

19) Your favorite, or most despised, lyrical cliché
People as food stuffs in a sexual way is rather tired.

20) Guns 'n' Roses' Appetite for Destruction -- yes or no?
Yes. Still a great hard rock album, big dirty riffs and Axl as sleaze vs. creep.

21) Favorite Wu-Tang verse
Haven't cared since 95.

22) Inaugural entry into the Academy of the Underrated
Slade. Nothing quite like them, and they were pretty much solid gold from 71-75.

23) Your favorite rock song to not use guitar (or favorite jazz song to not use piano, or favorite rap song to not use samples/scratching)
Rap song: Devin The Dude - "Brairpatch".

24) MF DOOM or Madlib?
Better together, like Peanut Butter & Jelly, but Operation: Doomsday is better than the Madlib I've heard.

25) Your favorite live album
Sam Cooke - Live At The Harlem Square Club.

26) What alternate take/demo version/remix do you like more than the original version?
Elvis Costello - "Green Shirt (demo)".

27) Favorite song on which Duane Allman plays guitar
Wilson Pickett - "Hey Jude".

28) Portishead or Massive Attack?
Portishead.

29) Your favorite Captain Beefheart song title
"I Wanna Find A Woman That'll Hold My Big Toe Till I Have To Go" from Lick My Decals Off, Baby.

30) As a music fan, what do you want from a music critic, or from music criticism? And where do you see music criticism in general headed?
I want less reviews and more thought. Prior to the last few years, reviews were critical because most music being reviewed the reader would never hear. Now you can sample almost anything, whether through online stores, band or label websites, myspace, etc. I would love to read more criticism that aimed less at telling me what something is (press releases are everywhere, too), but more on why I should listen, how does it succeed or fail, how should I listen to better understand. For example, I'm trying to familiarize myself with metal after a 15-year hiatus; what should I be listening for in the new Neurosis or in Ulver? What was necessary in the 200-word print review seems lazy in the modern world of online media; shorthands like "typical tech/death metal" don't tell anyone unfamiliar with a significant portion of that genre anything at all - what about it is typical, and what makes it tech/death metal?

This is where blogs and forums become so important. People who have the breadth of knowledge can share that with people who may not, and can do so with only the limitation of their own desire.

Reason #1068 To Love Robyn Hitchcock

2007-03-23T10:54:00.000-05:00

Not that anyone should need more than a song or two to understand the need to embrace his demented genius, but Robyn Hitchcock articulates things I can't quite grasp, and manages to do so with a quiet beauty. The Guardian today asked "tastemakers" for their opinion on who excited them during last weekend's SXSW festival. Robyn chose Elvis Perkins (whom I've mentioned a few times here, and whose recent debut Ash Wednesday really fulfills much of the promise of his demos), and hits on much I've wanted to say and adds the requisite Hitchcock twist:

"He looks like Another Side of Bob Dylan-era Dylan - the button-down shirt, mouth-harp and the hair going up - crossed with Rolling Thunder-era Dylan 10 years later with the upright bass. But the mood of the music isn't Dylan-y at all; it's quite ramshackle and very direct, passionate but not self-conscious. He didn't appear to take himself too seriously. There's a very interesting story to his life but the music that came out of it wasn't what you'd expect. He's got quite a feisty band, with a bass player who looks like Chuck Norris and a drummer who looks as if he must know how frightening he looks. And what with having two names that come from the Million Dollar Quartet - as in Elvis Presley and Carl Perkins; it's like being called Roy Cash - he is, as we say, so a story. One to watch."

Headed For The Light

2007-03-21T06:13:00.000-05:00

The music news of the day most likely to be greeted with eye-rolling and WTFs from my meager readership, but that lit up my eyes like a Nintendo 64, is that my beloved Wilbury's are traveling back into print. According to Billboard, not only are they re-emerging, but with bells, whistles, garlands and a prom dress from 1958:

"Traveling Wilburys Volume 1" and "Traveling Wilburys Volume 3" will be available together in one package with bonus tracks and a DVD of rare footage, as a deluxe linen-bound edition, a vinyl set and a digital bundle. The DVD boasts a 24-minute documentary and five music videos.

Now I remember Vol. 3 as a big steamy pile, but to get Vol. 1 with bonus tracks (including the never officially released Dylan song "Like A Ship") and those ass-tastick videos they made just makes me giddy. I wrote about Vol. 1 back in the day, and I see no possible way to better encapsulate my feelings than to raid my own, sad, dilapidated archive.

I Scream For Crow

2007-03-19T12:18:00.000-05:00

After too much basketball (though my craving for hoops is not easily sated, the opening weekend of March Madness can often be like a sugar high; this year was sweeter than expected, in that the lack of upsets in the first round led to a hotly contested second that was as good as any in recent memory), I need a reset. I wrote in December about my first taste of The Goslings, and how that was a cleanser to a cluttered mind. My mind isn't so befuddled as to crave such a Zen-like sense of nothing, but thanks (again) to Ian I can turn to the missing middle album, Between The Dead, and be refreshed versus be remade.

Between The Dead (currently out-of-print, but it will hopefully be saved a la Spaceheater/Perfect Interior) is more than just the missing piece of my Goslings collection; it is the link between the ambient noisescapes of Spaceheater and the aural assault of Grandeur. I think this is most easily understood when one considers the three albums use of space. On the EPs, many of the songs contained open space that was bookended by noise. This space was eliminated with extreme prejudice on Grandeur. On Between The Dead, the places for space are painted and filled with a light wash – a held note, an a capella (though not unprocessed) vocal – that help the songs to differentiate out of noise into discrete entities.

That is not to say Between The Dead is not a noisy, visceral listen; far from it. The guitar tone I expected from hearing Grandeur Of Hair (I would describe it as a thick, smoky burn; not fast like fire but the slow, unstoppable immolation of a blackening magma flow) is in full effect, the rolling cymbals still crash like swords on shields, the voices ring and pierce like oscillating sine waves (though they are more distinct and carry a menacing sneer, as on the opening track, "Crow For Day"). But all these things are easily discernible if not intelligible, and I find I can follow each part of the whole. The effect is not quite so overwhelming, and in some respects may be the better for it. I can do something like write this post and hope to be somewhat coherent, whereas I find I don't really ~~exist~~ ~~think~~ function while listening to Grandeur.

I want to stress it is not a bridge album in the sense that it is merely a path from here to there, a last piece in the puzzle; Between The Dead is a good album all by itself. To revive the My Bloody Valentine comparison I cited in my prior post, Between The Dead reminds me of Isn't Anything. A high-water mark in their comparative careers, the two albums share to me a sense of reaching a creative peak, one in which their prior work only hinted at as a possibility. To make the comparison all the more personally apt, I heard these earlier works only after being "thrown in the deep end", so to speak, with Loveless and Grandeur Of Hair. So though they are both solid works, they are overshadowed to some degree by their denser, noisier, petulant and more frightening younger brothers.

I'm glad I have it now, and I do truly enjoy and recommend it. Having a Goslings album that can fit into a lifestyle is a great and wonderful thing.

Pods and Sods

2007-03-15T14:38:00.000-05:00

Hello all - just wanted to let you know I'm still doing podcasts. To be honest, it is a bit easier than typing right now so I did two this week.

Follow the link in the sidebar if you're interested.

And once I can type more comfortably (hopefully next week) I have something percolating about the Gosling's Between The Dead, their album prior to the mind-blowing Grandeur Of Hair.

Twelve To A Dozen

2007-03-12T09:03:00.000-05:00

A playlist (now with commentary!), with British military bookends like Buckingham Palace guards in bearskin caps:

"Generals And Majors" - XTC
Nothing is more martial than Opie whistling in an echo chamber.

"Innocent When You Dream (Barroom version)" - Tom Waits
When Tom starts with "The bats are in the belfry," I realize I want a version of this led by The Count from Sesame Street, with the Yip Yips laying down some "uh-huh/uh-huh" bass backing.

"Breed" - Nirvana
I liked them best as a melodic hardcore band, as on this live recording from Halloween 91.

"The Nile Song" - Pink Floyd
Dinosaur Jr with over-the-top stupid lyrics; in other words, brilliant.

"How Come U Don't Call Me Anymore" - Prince
A: I realized you're testicles hadn't dropped yet.

"Kingstown" - Kode9
What starts as beautiful Morricone dub ends up going nowhere as bad poetry supersedes any possible sonic innovations.

"Gone At Last (demo)" - Paul Simon
Even ponderous Paul can't ruin this (he did on the "finished" version), as The Jessy Dixon Singers get righteous over a Grady Tate rhythm which is New Orleans channeling Trinidad.

"Swamp" - Talking Heads
Proving – yet again – that Bernie Worrell is funk; he doesn't need to pack it in a suitcase to bring it with him.

"Baby" - Gal Costa & Caetano Veloso
Gal is the best interpreter of Caetano's work, and proves it on one of the defining songs of Tropicalia.

"If I Ever Needed Love (I Sure Do Need It Now)" - Ruby Johnson
Pairing an A-list song with a B-list performer happened way too often at Stax; Mable John would have made this song about her own personal sexual fulfillment; Carla Thomas would have made it about wistful, heartfelt love; Ruby Johnson just made it.

"Cotton Crown" - Sonic Youth
I find Sister the last album of Sonic Youth's I truly love, and this song is one of the reasons why.

"The Call Up" - The Clash
There are times I think Sandinista! may be the greatest album of all time, and The Clash doing a soft disco anti-conscription song is fair proof.

Slow Bus Moving

2007-03-07T14:26:00.000-05:00

Hey loyal reader(s), things will be slow here for a bit; took a fall last week and did some damage to my wrist. Typing is between slow and painful, so the long exegeses I've been disgorging lately will be curtailed. I hope to have some shorter, pithy little bits to carry this blog while I heal.

In that spirit, I'm going to point out a few Youtube clips from the short-lived Brazilian band Secos & Molhados. I don't want to torment those uninterested readers with embeds, as I'm not commenting – just love the band, and these three clips give a glimpse of the madness they embodied back in the early 70s.

Rosa de Hiroshima, live in 1973

Sangue Latino & O Vira, TV lip-sync 1973

Amor, lip-sync on TV in 1974

Animal Was My Favorite Drummer

2007-02-26T11:21:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I did a "quick hit" impression of the new Dalek album, scheduled for release tomorrow (to recap, don't get it). In that short bit I mentioned the late, lamented New Kingdom. This caused me to throw their two albums in the player and reminisce, and prompts me today to tell the story of me and New Kingdom.

I first heard them mentioned by Del The Funkee Homosapien; somewhere he said their upcoming debut was "mind-blowing". This was enough of an endorsement for me to buy it on release without hearing a note (I used to do this all the time - read an article, hear someone say it was great, and I'd pick it up. I can't imagine doing that nowadays – it is just so easy to hear a snippet, a sample or a whole track on a band's website or some random blog that the sense of surprise is gone. Of course, it means I'm not paying cash for crap, but I also miss that revelatory moment of discovery. I still love "Touch Me I'm Sick" and "Schizophrenia" for that more than any other reason). The album Heavy Load was what I hoped it would be, and the opener "Good Times" was the perfect psychedelic variant to the Beasties "Rhymin and Stealin", complete with Bonzo-esque pounding and in your face growling. It wasn't a rap-rock hybrid (they weren't going to be on the Judgment Day soundtrack), but a hitherto unexplored idea; heavy rap. The inspiration wasn't then current metal, but heavy funk and stoner psychedelia from the early seventies; Funkadelic and Hawkwind jamming, with Mushmouth doing ubbi dubbi freestyles out front. "Cheap Thrills" (their ode to marijuana) with its circular bassline, subdued rhodes electric piano and wah-wah guitar, is crying out for black lights and mushrooms painted on velvet. Laser Show, here we come!

Somewhat surprisingly, they put out a second album in 96 (I can't imagine they made Island much money), the even more incredible Paradise Don't Come Cheap. It starts off harder, heavier and more intense than its predecessor, with bowel-shaking bass and a horn section made for menace; "Mexico Or Bust" roars like a bad-trip version of Tom Wait's "Singapore". The Funkadelic influence is still strong, but more in little sonic touchstones (the Eddie Hazel inspired guitar on "Big 10 1/2", for example) than in the overall jammy spaciness of the first album. Whereas Heavy Load was an acid trip in a desert (Lizard King comparisons not intended, though they do mention the Doors), Paradise Don't Come Cheap is PCP paranoia in an urban dystopia, cramped and oppressive and right on the edge of lashing, desperate violence. The psychedelia is no longer friendly and strange, but instead veers into the territory of the Butthole Surfers, where the revelry is in how uncomfortable you feel. The vocal distortions are thicker and muddier, another signpost pointing to Gibby Haynes and company.

Luckily for me, they toured on this album (I don't know if they worked Heavy Load on the road, and information on the net is sparse), and made it to DC, my home at the time. So I talked my wife into going to some record store in Silver Spring for an inexpensive outing (I think $8-10 for the both of us). Opening were two bands I didn't know - Handsome (about a year prior to their sole release) and the Red Aunts. The 70-odd people there seemed pretty disinterested in the openers, though Handsome were good enough live for me to get their album - very tight and intricate rhythms, with some interesting guitar work counterpointing and weaving in and out of the bass and drums. Terry Date did his usual overproduction on their album and lost all the Fugazi-esque treble and tension they had live. The Red Aunts were incredibly amateurish, just the garage punk ravings of some loud poseur women. They even apologized for sounding so bad saying they were like, so wasted and stuff! Gack.

Then New Kingdom took the stage, cramming at least eight people on what couldn't have been much more than a 10'x12' three-foot high riser. They even had a dancer, their own Bez (whether he was also helping in the chemical department I don't know), complete with an "Intel inside" sterile suit and ass-length dreads. They started sloppy, and sounded like they were too fucked-up to care; but as they kept going, they found a groove, and it was heavy as hell. They slowed down some things even further (the aforementioned "Cheap Thrills" and "Unicorns Were Horses", which was downright dirge-like), and changed "Co Pilot" into an end times rave-up that goes right over the cliff they walked so carelessly on the edge of on the album. As the show went on, the blurring of band and audience rose, with band members stepping off the riser to move and groove with the small but adoring crowd. The hazmat dancer stripped as the show went on, his dreads becoming a cat-of-nine tails, whipping and slashing both the audience and his bare chest and back like some medieval penitent. Down to a well-filled thong (I didn't want to notice, but he came close to rubbing it on my shoulder from the corner of the stage), he at one point ended up on his back on the floor, twitching and shaking and singing along, truly ecstatic. I've never seen anything like it - not the best concert on a musical basis, nor the most mind-blowing, but it was the most organic, communal show I've ever seen.

I do wish that they had lasted longer, and gone further, than the two albums. As it stands, the albums have not dated like their chart toping contemporaries (Doggystyle and 12 Play in 93/94, The Score and All Eyez On Me in 96), and those who have tried to explore a similar landscape (say, Dalek and some of the Def Jux and Anticon contingents) haven't found that special blend that made New Kingdom so great. But the two albums are pretty easy (and cheap!) to find used these days, so though there may not be a replacement it is still a glorious thing to relive the past.

For your viewing pleasure (though it doesn't hold a candle to what I saw and experienced a few years later), the only New Kingdom I found on YouTube:

David Rave On

2007-02-21T08:49:00.000-05:00

I had planned to jot something down about "The Legendary Guitar Amp Tapes" (the Velvet Underground bootleg recording from '69 that was taped from Lou Reed's amp, with the squawks, squeals, blistering feedback and lyrical runs one would expect from such a recording), but another recording I "acquired" this weekend is holding me hostage; David Bowie and Stevie Ray Vaughan in rehearsal for 1983s "Serious Moonlight" tour. Due to last-minute contractual bickering, Vaughan never did play with Bowie and his band on that tour (he was replaced by Earl Slick). However, the rehearsals were taped, and I'm nigh stunned hearing what might have been.

In the liner notes to the DVD release of Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Troubles 1982 Montreux Jazz Festival performance, Bowie wrote:

December rolled around and after only a couple or so weeks in the studio Nile Rodgers and I had put down the tracks and vocals of my new album, Let's Dance. All that was left was to overdub the lead guitar. In the third week of December Stevie strolled into the Power Station and proceeded to rip-up everything one thought about dance records. After his blistering solo on the title song he ambled into the control room and with a cheeky smile on his face, shyly quipped, "That one's for Albert", knowing full well that I would understand that King's own playing was the genesis for that solo. One after another he knocked down solo upon solo, song upon song. In a ridiculously short time he had become midwife to the sound that I had had ringing in my ears all year. A dance form that had its melody rooted in a European sensibility but owed its impact to the blues."

Tour rehearsals were a fairly disjointed affair for me as I was also being shunted here, there and everywhere to do press for the albums release. By the time I got to Dallas the band had already honed the songs to a near finished state. Although pretty disjointed himself as drugs were seriously taking their toll, Stevie was pulling notes out of the air that no one could have dreamed would have worked with my songs. In fact there is a bootleg out there somewhere containing one days playing, a gem for those that can find it.

It is, as Bowie says, "a gem." Vaughan comes across as the driving force of these interpretations, bringing a more traditional rhythm & blues sound (as opposed to the plastic soul and modern r&b sound of mid-seventies Bowie) that adds a "call and response" aspect to some of the tracks, particularly in the solos. Vaughan plays a short riff, echoed and expanded by the horn section, restated and expanded further by Vaughan, taken up by the keyboards and then brought back to basics by Vaughan and the song continues. Bowie, as evidenced in his quote, was not a participant in the evolution of this style, but was added to the top. He comes across as a reluctant interloper, as amazed by the arrangements as I am. He blends in better in these recordings than in almost anything I've heard (Bowie and his boundless ego are not easy collaborators, as Tin Machine so ably proved), and there are a few moments where he ad-libs after a flubbed line, laughs and tries to right himself for the next verse, unwilling to stop the band's groove. This is in marked contrast to other rehearsals I've heard, where a goof by either Bowie or the band led to an immediate stop and a tense restart, or a blistering dressing down of the offending player by Bowie (though he, of course, is above reproach).

To compare this to the bootlegs from the subsequent tour is somewhat cruel; Earl Slick is a solid, if not singular, lead guitarist, and Bowie and the band were in very fine form throughout. However, the Stevie Ray recordings sound, to my ears, like a critical missed evolutionary step for Bowie; from plastic soul to r&b bandleader. Early in the rehearsal they play "Heroes" and Vaughan bends that singular note for measure after measure, sustaining it until it finally starts to fade; then he adds a quick little two or three-note hint at the guitar lick from the chorus before hammering back to the note and wringing it out again for all it's worth. No pedals, no effects, just a finger on a fret. The horn section vamps the chorus "da-da-duh-dah-da/da-da-duh-dah-da" and the saxophone drops down, growling, and the vamp resets. The result isn't funk, but an earlier sound, maybe Muscle Shoals.

The horns work similar magic on the cold eurofunk of "What In The World." The original is one of my favorite Bowie tracks, all off-kilter and deranged, closer to the songs Bowie gave to Iggy Pop in those Berlin years than to the rest of his own Berlin output. Here it starts like a Martian's version of Sam & Dave, the horn vamps on the chorus reminiscent of "Soul Man"; but when the song reaches the expected end, it relaunches at double-speed and comes out like Frank Zappa, complete with what sounds like xylophones and Stevie Ray Vaughan doing clipped and muted Fripp-like runs atop a manic piano. Singular, beautiful and strange.

The rehearsal recordings cover 31 songs. They aren't all revelatory, but the more I listen the more I think that they all would have been by the end of the tour. "Cat People (Putting Out Fire)" has never been particularly good in my opinion, but here I like the build from synth-pop to guitar rave-up. It doesn't quite come together (SRV is in full blues-mode on the solos and the band doesn't make the necessary adjustments to support him; they kind of let him flail enthusiastically and then go back to their thing), but the last chorus works very well, as the synths step back a bit and SRV steps up. I imagine that would only have become a greater meld as time went on. "White Light/White Heat" harkens back to before the Velvet Underground, becoming the Little Richard song it always wanted to be. You could imagine this being in Richard's repertoire in the Jimi Hendrix years, except for one glaring fact; Bowie is not even a poor-broken-down-hobo-street-fighting-for-$20 man's Little Richard. His pipes, perfectly fine for covering Lou Reed under normal circumstances, fail his bands inspired arrangement. I guess that wouldn't have changed, but the band might have inspired another, greater vocalist to take up that challenge.

Regardless of their pupal state, these rehearsal recordings are nigh essential for any Bowie fan. Made my weekend.

Today is Yesterday's Tomorrow, You Dig?

2007-02-16T12:11:00.000-05:00

Coping "Feel Good Hits Of The Day" from Ian, I present to you a list of songs of the moment, shuffling along in iTunes like an old man with a bad hip, gout and no cane to lean on:

"King Of The Beats" - Mantronix
"Mr E's Beautiful Blues" - The Eels
"Slow" - My Bloody Valentine
"Sad As A Truck" - Mugison
"Afterparty" - Method Man f. Ghostface Killah
"Green Manalishi (With The Two Pronged Crown) - Judas Priest
"Fickle" - Dizzee Rascal
"Dark Horizons" - The Hidden Hand
"Sister Havana" - Urge Overkill
"Animal" - New Kingdom

There's a new podcast if anyone is looking. Click the link in the sidebar. Aiming to get some more thoughts up once I've finished digging out from the Valentine's Day storm.

EZ Podcast 18

2007-02-09T09:30:00.000-05:00

There will be no more excuses, no more apologies.

Cold As Ice (Yes I Know)

2007-02-07T10:54:00.000-05:00

I like to have excuses for being a lazy sod, and the latest one I've been trying on for size is "too cold to type." There is of course no truth to that notion. I'm not even at one of those "internet cafe" places where they use their hipness (look – putamayo collections and organic free-range shade grown coffee beans) to hide the fact they can't make a good cup of joe for $3.75. I'm a homebody, bravely eschewing the world at large for the comfort of my pajamas (that's how I roll, Holmes). So being a bum is the truth. I keep it real, not right.

Part of my lack of activity here is I've been delving into lots of new and interesting things, and I needed to chew on them a bit (alimentary, my dear Watson). So some quick hits, with the promise of some longer bits on the stuff blowing me away later.

Dalek - Abandoned Language. This is hitting the shelves in a few weeks, and was recommended to me as the kind of "forward-looking" hip-hop I would appreciate. This is not true. This is sadly unmemorable, with mediocre rhymes and humdrum beats. I guess big layers of synths (slowly oscillating washes, bad strings, faux horns and other assorted piddly bits) = novel, in that it is uncommon in the audibly barren post-Neptunes/post-"Get Low" world to bury an MC in a wall of production. But this pretty much blows. Had to dig out some New Kingdom to hear "forward-looking" hip-hop; it still sounds alien after ten years. "Terror Mad Visionary" indeed.

MONO - You Are There. I should like this; slow building instrumental rock, reaching towering crescendos of noise, brittle but hard as are all Albini productions. Yet somehow it just doesn't work – it has no grab, no catch, the repetition just repetition, with no glimmer or hint of an interesting evolution. In the end I hear paint-by-numbers post-rock whatever, which is sort of my general problem with the whole style classified as post-rock; where's the rock? Getting loud or atonal does not equate to "rocking". I do like the Jimmy Page-isms that start nearly every song on here, particularly the first section of the 15 minute "Yearning". Strangely, I am absolutely loving the MONO/World's End Girlfriend collaboration, which I'm sure I'll write about at a later date.

Yob - The Illusion Of Motion. Pick a metal label (stoner/sludge/doom/cheese & onion), and use it to unjustly write these guys off. Heavy-ass riffs, great heaving gobs of bass and thunderous toms, these guys are right up my alley (except for the occasional cookie monster vocal). As I've said before, I'm dipping my toes into metal, and am building my likes and dislikes. I like mudhole stomping tunes, big shitkicker rave-ups and ponderously slow and painful bass-driven drones. Yob tries to have the best of both worlds, alternating song by song from some hellbilly Sabbath blowout to some crazy-ass Tad-on-'ludes Northwestern doom. Sad to hear these guys called it quits, but I'll be getting their back-catalog for sure.

Capricorns - Ruder Forms Survive. More metal, this time from the UK. Not right up my alley, but down a side street I like the looks of. Distinct but full, this mainly instrumental album sounds to me like a sludgier, more interesting Pelican. Less Neurosis, more actually craziness. The tracks are also named for years, and the best title of recent days goes to the epic "1066: Born On The Bayeux".

Noxagt - Iron Point. Is it noise or metal? It's heavy as all get out, with precision drilling for drums, big raging slabs of bass (distorted all to shit with loads of effects), and an equally processed electric viola making all sorts of a ruckus over top, under, around and just plain elsewhere. Instrumental (except for a traditional Norwegian folk song that I think is a band member's grandfather singing; Fiery Furnaces weren't original in that regard either), it is like the noise band Lightning Bolt minus the wanking guitar style. They even do a death metal rave-up, like a glorious mix of Painkiller and Venom. I read that the viola player left and was replaced by a guitarist. I guess I'll have to look elsewhere for my freak-out atonal drone goodness.

Tune in next time, when I promise to not to mention the Police reunion. Consider it the other way of stopping.

Giant Steps Are What You Take

2007-02-01T19:02:00.000-05:00

Posted without comment.

EZ Podcast 17

2007-02-01T15:16:00.000-05:00

Because, you know, a week later I still got nothin'.

Podcast #16

2007-01-25T09:45:00.000-05:00

Because no one ever gets what they want.

Itchy & Scratchy

2007-01-23T17:02:00.000-05:00

I don't have anything to say about this right now (beyond the fact that I love the Butthole Surfers in general and Locust Abortion Technician in particular), but for those of you still reading you must follow this link to WFMU's Beware of the Blog.

This is just so cool, in a really geeky and pointless way.

Question, in parting: is the Butthole's take on this the invention of "chopped and screwed?"

Beyond the Walls of Sleep

2007-01-22T12:41:00.000-05:00

Feedback into distorted down-strokes, the guitar a dark invocation. The tone swells, richer, fuller, as tentative cymbals are heard chiming like birds witnessing an ominous red dawn. Thud Thud Thud as the kick brings a pulse to the proceedings, the bass as muddy as the guitar, the cauldron's brew thickening like porridge, an overworked glue pushed forward only by the unfaltering cymbals steady crash.

There is a shift; the guitar tone begins its clean ascent to the realm of Iommi, the bass now not a thickening echo but a countering force. The drummer begins to march the troops forward, the formation having tightened and the arms shouldered and ready. Presentation before the general has begun, the cymbals roll, the formation pauses, the guitar restates the invocation.

A voice, straining to be heard in the farthest rows, the deepest reaches, begins the ceremony. The musicians offer not support but challenge, fighting the call of solemn intonation, their groove, their force something to be reckoned with outside the ritual. The guitar has its own power to summon, thick with electrical discharge.

The invocation returns, the guitar restates its purpose, and the ceremony continues. The distortion, feedback and crackling thunder has reasserted its dominance.

A shift, as the guitarist acknowledges the thinner strings, the bottom of the neck, hammer-ons and pull-offs equaled by the kick and tom-toms, the crashing cymbals. The bass player finds a space in between, and a tube-driven warmth fills the gaps.

Again, a return. The invoked being is called by name, "The Weedian – Nazereth". To call a being requires name and location, so as to separate the desired from all others so called. The notes of the invocation proceed a second calling. A third is expected, to seal the spell. The ritual form follows course; invocation by sound, by name, by sound, by name – but no! There is a challenge, the guitar unwilling to cede its own rights to the vocal leader.

The challenge is fairly met, as the guitar, alone states its case, then hesitantly falls into line for the voice to state his own. The ritual leader parts the crowd with his voice, but is left somewhat unintelligible by the continued bucking and squealing of the temporarily subordinate guitar. He states a lineage, a history, claims past to justify present. Before the invocation can continue, the guitar once more raises the question of leadership, but is brought quickly in line. There is no argument with the Priests of the Weedian.

"Arise/arise/aris/ari/ar" I must question here - the traditional three-part summoning is incomplete, the danger is real. The priest, so called, continues fearlessly, his accompaniment now strong, united, challenges put aside for the glory of their Lord.

They approach the halfway point, and with the forces once more in formation, the guitar restates the invocation. The smoke thickens, and begins to coalesce as a description is given by the ritual leader. He describes the rites for his followers to partake in, to bring about the proper mindset for meeting their Lord. It is a Mass, not a summoning as I had heretofore surmised. With all in place, the priest must step aside and let the music carry forward.

The guitar tone switches back to its early, muddy, foul discharge. It dances around a restatement of the invocation but plays tricks, unwilling to quickly reach its purpose. The bass comes close in, menacing, forcing the guitar back to its proper place and sound. Once again the leader steps forward and raises his voice.

A mere two lines, a regrouping of sorts, before once again the guitar sallies forth. Like before, the guitarist has found a voice in the higher register, but instead of the hard attack he finds a sliding warmth, softer. The bass and drums recede as an echo is added to the strings, their keening rather Eastern. Soft – almost feathery, like down – is the kick drum that joins in behind, the cymbals back to the tentative chiming birds we heard so long ago. The peaceful lull is short - the bass brings us back as the priest is ready to continue, having finished this part of the ritual.

The next section is short, a mere four lines, a history of their Lord and his resurrection in the flame. The guitar fills the gap quickly, like the Iron Man. The gap filled, the higher register again appears, this time triumphantly, as dirty and rough as it began the proceedings. There is something guttural and mocking about it, as if - just perhaps - there is a longing to be free of all this, to move on.

The band reels in those flights of fancy, pulling the guitar back down to the depths. The dominant force is, must be, the priest, who now has finished with the tale of The Weedian and chronicles the path of the believers, the proper path with the priests as guides. The reading of the ritual – its history, its purpose, its path – is complete.

A blessing is said:

Drop out of life with bong in hand
Follow the smoke to-uh the riff-filled land

And the band plays out.

This has been a real-time commentary on the experience of listening to Sleep's magnum opus Dopesmoker.

Podcast #15

2007-01-18T15:58:00.000-05:00

I got a new mic! Come check out my early struggles with new technology!

Betcha By-Golly Wah-Wah

2007-01-18T15:35:00.000-05:00

Though I've never been to the land of YOB , I'm planning a trip. Along the way past the Dead Meadow, I'll probably find the Electric Wizard at the court of the Acid King, and with both their blessings will travel through the Conifer forest to the Ocean, lie beneath the Mammatus clouds and Sleep, dreaming fitful dreams of those Buried At Sea. There are some heavy things going down.

I've completely ignored metal and its sub-genres for over a decade, thinking I was past the need for it. I still had noise, and experimental free-form improv, and the all-genre melding inherent in following Zorn and Patton and their Tzadik and Ipecac imprints. It didn't seem to have a place. Well, I'm happy to say I was wrong. All of the above linked artists (I promise not to go MySpace crazy again in the future) excite me; heavy, sludgy, blistery purveyors of doom, thick with effects and scorching the raw earth with their mellifluous tones. Dirgey bliss, all for me.

For those who are metal connoisseurs, you will probably be asking one primary thing: where be the descendants of thrash? To be honest, I went through a series of short but intense thrash/grindcore phases (Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax/Slayer, Suicidal Tendencies, Napalm Death/Carcass, Pantera, Sepultura - in those subsets and order), and the technical riffing and brutal tempos don't really hold much appeal anymore. I can appreciate the skill, but I can't say I enjoy listening.

Regardless of my own predilections and prejudices, I'm looking forward to "rediscovering" my inner head-banger. Should be a fun year, and I'll dutifully share my thoughts as I add yet more music to the all-together too much already lying around the house and clogging up my brain.

Podcast #14

2007-01-11T10:14:00.000-05:00

Because my fan demanded it.

Diamond Dog

2007-01-08T11:59:00.000-05:00

Today is David Bowie's sixtieth birthday, and I haven't heard of any scheduled celebration like his all-star Madison Square Garden's fiftieth bash, which is quite a shame. Video from that bonanaza is all over Youtube, and worth searching out, particularly a blazing "Scary Monsters" with Frank Black and "Hallo Spaceboy" with the Foo Fighters. For comic relief there are also a couple of songs with bald Billy Corrigan and the enthusiastically coiffured Robert Smith. Overall, a fun and joyful celebration.

Someday I'll write up some in-depth thoughts on The Thin White Duke, but today is just a birthday wish for Mr. Jones. Come celebrate the with me, and enjoy a song he willingly butchered for a few dollars in the movie Starship Troopers ("I have not been to Outer Space..."), but which, in its original form, was an anchor of the underrated Outside.

Podcast #13

2007-01-04T09:56:00.000-05:00

New Year, same routine.

BackInTheDay

2007-01-02T10:06:00.000-05:00

It seems each time the calendar changes I mentally lay back in the grass, gaze at the sky, and reminisce. This year I've been trapped in those strange days of youth, ages five to ten.

I had a somewhat idyllic childhood, a seventies pastoral blend of Maxfield Parrish and Mayberry. My neighbors were farmers, quarrymen, preachers, and teachers like my parents. Every home (all five, mine included) was my own, every adult a parent and caregiver. We had a partyline; for those who never had that singular experience, it meant we shared a phone connection with multiple other homes (so you could pick up the receiver and listen in on other's conversations, naturally) and had to "arrange" calls with the others involved. We got a dedicated line I think about the time of my fifth birthday, which came with the ability to call anyone in town by only dialing the last four digits of their number. We hit the big time.

Music was a big part of that childhood. We got one TV channel (ABC, if memory serves), so rainy days and blizzards meant my parents record collection was the source of much entertainment. That collection, which is now an adjunct to my own, formed one of the building blocks of my musical taste; the Beatles, the Mamas & the Papas, Neil Diamond, Simon & Garfunkel. My mother also had a solid collection of classical music which lead to an oft-shared anecdote about me I don't remember in the slightest; on the turntable is Saint-Saens "Danse Macabre", and I am describing to her a scene of skeletons bopping about. This possibly apocryphal tale is one I often cite when discussing my musical education - I can't read notation without great difficulty (Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge/FACE; my second-grade music teacher would be proud), I can't whistle except one sad note, my singing voice is fine if greatly limited in range, and my instrumental prowess is sub-rudimentary - but I taught myself how to hear.

As my sister and I got older, my parents concern for our education caused them to move us from our eighteenth century community to a more modern one, where education extended past the eighth grade. I was seven, and by my tenth birthday two more pillars of my musical fundament were in place; classic rock and MTV. FM radio was ruled by the iron-fist of classic rock - by Boston and Led Zeppelin, "Godzilla" and "Iron Man." I could hear Mountain and Foghat, but not Chic or Elvis Costello. Unsurprisingly, 4/4 beat and electric boogie was added to the harmony-heavy bedrock of my youth. There was no Top 40 radio for us then - Casey Kasem was the sole proprietor of that mainstream ghetto, and Saturday mornings were a lifeline to current sounds. But then came cable, and with it that befouler of souls, Satanic warper of fragile little minds, the "new thing" - MTV.

Cable was in its hardscrabble early days, and it seemed every household got a free chunk of time to "try out" the full range of offerings. We had MTV either at its beginning or shortly thereafter (but it went the way of the dodo when the cable company wanted our limited funds), and it was through the idiot box I discovered the "New Wave" of music. Adam Ant, the Dandy Highwayman; Talking Heads, and their kaleidoscopic "Once In A Lifetime"; The Police, whose horse-faced (sorry, Stewart) drummer danced around but didn't seem to have any drums; and most importantly for me at the time, the oft-maligned "Police rip-off" band Men At Work. Men At Work's inescapable video for "Down Under" was an early staple at the channel, and was one of the first 45s I purchased (the earliest was Blondie's "The Tide Is High" for my sister's birthday in 1979). MTV also broadcast, very early one Saturday morning, a concert by the affable Aussies. I was enraptured - the songs I knew ("Who Can It Be Now?" was a monster hit too) were great, but they had other good songs, like "Be Good Johnny" and "I Can See It In Your Eyes." They were playing songs from Cargo as well, so when "Overkill' and "Dr. Heckyll & Mr. Jive" were released I was already familiar with them. This broadcast concert also led to the first album I bought - Business As Usual.

Business As Usual was that next step for me; from casual consumer - adrift in the cruel sea of playlist payola and market forces - to active participant, shaper of my own musical destiny. It was novel to me, listening to my music on my own terms, not just what others decided I should be force-fed. Men At Work set me on the path of an obessive, one who argues about the strength of album cuts versus singles ("Helpless Automaton" - showing the Split Enz inspiration was as, if not more, important than the Police - is one of the true gems in the Men At Work catalog, for example), of unappreciated artists and flawed masterworks. Unfortunately for my friends and family, the cost of Business As Usual was pretty much all I could afford to spare from my comic book buying money, so it was on my turntable for ages and ages. I think that was why one of my sister's friends gave me her 45 of the Buckner & Garcia classic "Pac-Man Fever." Otherwise, I can't imagine anyone making that kind of sacrifice.

Guest Perspective: The Year In Music 2006

2006-12-28T17:54:00.000-05:00

As I said before, though Crackle & Pop will primarily be me ranting through the night on topics none can follow, on occasion I will be passing along thoughts from friends and family. Today I am happy to share the thoughts of my friend Paul, who is actually able to listen to music and enjoy it(!), instead of merely looking to ridicule and judge with vitriol and condescension. This should come as a pleasant change of pace to my regular readers. Without further ado (and with how much I love ado, be grateful I'm practicing moderation over the Holidays), Paul's best of '06.

BEST ALBUMS OF 2006

2006 was a good, but strange, year for music in the genres that I enjoy.

There were very few memorable records in hard rock or straight rock. Other than the release of Monk and Coltrane’s Live at Carnegie Hall album, I can’t think of a great new jazz record that I heard.

I only heard a handful of really, really sharp progressive house mixes laid down in 2006 that moved me, unlike 2005, which was packed with superb grooves.

But 2006 saw an embarrassment of riches in what I call the “Americana” genre, which is a mish-mash of alternative country, Southern rock, roots rock, folk, folk-rock and acoustic music. It seemed at times of the year like there was a superb record in that genre being released every week.

And what made that output even more surprising is that my favorite artist in that genre, Wilco, didn’t release a studio album in 2006. Usually nothing tops a Wilco release for me in a certain year, but many of the new Americana records I heard this year stand up to anything Wilco ever has recorded.

It was a year for comebacks, too, as Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and The Who released albums to critical acclaim. But were the albums really that good, or were the most-recent releases by these artists so mediocre to bad that even a decent record would be met with hosannas by critics? I lean toward the latter.

Dylan’s Modern Times was a strong record, but does it really compare with Blood on the Tracks? Hardly. Same with Endless Wire by The Who and The Seeger Sessions by Springsteen. Both solid records, but neither will be confused for Who’s Next or Nebraska.

Most year-end reviews list the top 10 albums of the year. But, like the amplifier used by the legendary Nigel Tufnel of Spinal Tap, this one goes to 11.

11. Vince Gill – These Days

Very few artists in any genre have the balls – or the material – to release a four-disc set. Ryan Adams released three albums in 2005, with one a double album, and the results were mixed at best. But damn it if Vince Gill didn’t pull it off with These Days. Gill had a distinct musical theme for each record – country rock, jazzy torch music, straight country and bluegrass/gospel – and each was superb. Put them together, and it’s the crowning achievement of Gill’s career, and a work that separates him from the rest of the Nashville set as the most talented male working in that often sterile, unimaginative world.

10. M. Ward – Post-War

Post-War proved that an artist doesn’t need volume or screaming vocals to be powerful. This is one of quietest, low-fi albums you’ll ever hear, but M. Ward’s excellent acoustic arrangements and understated, quiet delivery combine for one of the most enjoyable listens of the year.

9. Rosanne Cash – Black Cadillac

Very few artists in any genre of music lay their emotions bare more often or better than Rosanne Cash. She chronicled all of the emotions of her divorce from Rodney Crowell in the superb Interiors and matches the honesty and power of that masterpiece with Black Cadillac. The grief that Cash feels over the loss of her father, the legendary Johnny Cash, oozes from nearly every song on the album without being sappy, maudlin or depressing.

8. Eric Clapton & JJ Cale – The Road to Escondido

This is one of the best “front porch” albums I’ve heard in a long time. The Road to Escondido is a breezy, strumming record made by Clapton and one of his idols, JJ Cale. Most of the songs sound like they were recorded on the first or second take, with fairly simple arrangements. That led to a bit of a repetitive feel to the record, especially since Clapton and Cale sound so similar vocally. But the entire vibe of the album is so relaxed, and tracks like “Danger” are so strong, that I really enjoyed this record.

7. Derek Trucks – Songlines

Somewhere Duane Allman must be smiling, because his spiritual successor as the modern master of the slide guitar released a superb record. Trucks has been a prodigy almost from the minute he started playing guitar, but he has resisted the Steve Vai/Joe Satriani-like urge to show how technically superb he is at every instance. Instead, Trucks plays with passion, soul and technique right from the first notes of “Volunteered Slavery” to the very end of the record.

6. Drive-By Truckers – A Blessing and a Curse

Let’s get this out of the way quickly: A Blessing and a Curse is not as good as Southern Rock Opera. Then again, there are very few bands that release an album as masterful as that disc, and A Blessing and a Curse is still very, very good and would be a masterstroke for many bands. DBT moved away a bit from their Skynyrd influences with A Blessing and a Curse and became more sludgy and bluesy, sort of like The Stones in Exile on Main Street. And there’s not a damn thing wrong with that.

5. Dixie Chicks – Taking the Long Way

Lost in hubbub over Natalie Maines’ well-placed concert rant against George W. Bush at the start of the Iraq War was that The Dixie Chicks were one of the best bands in country music. But the girls advanced their craft to an entirely different level with Taking the Long Way, which is easily the best country album of the year. The vocal harmonies and musicianship of Maines and the Robison sisters are top-notch, and Maines takes aim and connects at her critics in “Not Ready to Make Nice.” The Dixie Chicks are way too good for Nashville, so the bumfuck-minded industry backlash from that insular, stifling town might be the best thing that ever happened to this band.

4. Neko Case – Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

The Voice. Ah, what a voice. Neko Case’s vocal chords clearly were blessed by the heavens, and she sounds absolutely sublime on this record, especially in “Margaret vs. Pauline” and “Hold On, Hold On.” The musical arrangements also are varied and interesting. But the lyrics indicate that Case either spent too much time in art school or reading literature that was out of her grasp, as references to harlots with ingots burned into their breasts reach way too far. If Case can corral her lyrical excesses and match those refined words with the music and vocals of this record, the result could be a masterstroke for the ages.

3. The Hold Steady – Boys and Girls in America

Derivative? Check. Annoying vocal phrasing? Check. Make all the complaints you want about Craig Finn and The Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in America, and it still stands up as the best straight-ahead rock album of the year. Boys and Girls is a rock album full of stories, not a collection of songs assembled by a record company. True rock albums are rare treats these days, and rock albums as cohesive and kicking as Boys and Girls are even more rare. Finn’s observational, confessional lyrics have been done before by the likes of Springsteen and Westerberg, but if you’re going to put your influences on your sleeve, those are pretty good badges to display. Plus The Hold Steady has more range than most think, as rockers like “Stuck Between Stations” and “Chips Ahoy” were balanced by ballads or slower tracks like “First Night” and “Southtown Girls.”

2. Robert Randolph and The Family Band – Colorblind

I’m starting to believe that there’s no style of music that Robert Randolph and The Family Band can’t play well. Colorblind is an exciting mix of funk, blues, hard rock, and soul. You hear plenty of hints of Sly Stone and Stevie Wonder on this record, with a sprinkle of the recently departed James Brown. But then Dave Matthews appears on “Love Is the Only Way In” and Eric Clapton guests on the sizzling cover of “Jesus Is Just Alright.” Most bands that attempt to mix and match this many styles on one album either miss the mark in a style or two or flail and fail. Not Randolph and The Family Band. This album just drips with energy and talent and deserves to be played louder than any other record on this list.

1. Los Lobos – The Town and the City

Los Lobos is a victim of its brilliance. As I scanned various year-end music reviews to see how many of my top 11 records ended up on critics’ lists, I didn’t see The Town and the City on one top-10 list. Are you shitting me? But that’s what happens when a band that has released superb record after record for nearly 30 years issues another gem. Brilliance almost becomes expected. And make no mistake about it – The Town and the City might be Los Lobos’ best record, standing up with Kiko among the band’s “greats.” The theme of the album is the plight of illegal Mexican immigrants, from fleeing their native land to making a living in America. There isn’t a weak track on this record, with “The Valley,” “The Road to Gila Bend” and “Little Things” the standouts. There is no “La Bamba” or “Don’t Worry Baby” on this record, as it’s an album of quiet, dignified power and one that makes more and more emotional connections with repeated listens.

On The One

2006-12-26T10:57:00.000-05:00

James Brown is dead. Details and adulation available elsewhere.

I have a troubled relationship to James Brown's music (I never knew the person, only the persona; his personal triumphs and failings - as documented in public - are a mixed bag, to say the least). I appreciate him greatly as an innovator, one of the greatest of the second half of the 20th century, but find it hard to like much of his recorded output. I've never warmed to him as a singer, which greatly limits the appeal of his pre-funk heights such as the lauded Live at the Apollo; he had more power to me as a vocalist, and I find I can somewhat get behind the emotive grunts, exhortations and exuberant sighs of the later funk recordings. I'll freely admit that he seemed to always have a top notch backing group, from the Famous Flames to the JBs; the music was tight, the band seemingly united in a hive mind, and the grooves they could cut were a pleasure to hear.

Though I've heard the Star Time box set countless times (It came out just a few months before I began my stint as a record clerk, and James was one of the few musical meeting points between the older owners and the lowly grunts), I've never owned it; in a now somewhat eerie moment Sunday morning I again passed on a used copy at my local store, opting instead for the magisterial Mingus set Passions Of A Man. I find I don't even listen to the one James Brown album I've ever owned, the pre-Star Time best-of The CD of JB (which I will gladly argue is better than 20 All-Time Greatest Hits merely because it includes my favorite Brown track, "Licking Stick - Licking Stick"). He just isn't an artist that grabs or compels me to listen in more than a cursory way.

JB is a trailblazer, and without him I wouldn't have artists I love, such as Sly & The Family Stone, the extended George Clinton/P-Funk family, Prince, and Fela Kuti. Though his music may not have touched me the way it did so many others, he indirectly has had a great effect on my musical tastes, and for this I offer my respect and thanks.

Rest in peace Mr. Brown.

Podcast #12

2006-12-21T08:48:00.000-05:00

Happy Holidays from your favorite Holiday Hater.

Motion Picture Soundtrack (Another Rip List)

2006-12-20T11:31:00.000-05:00

I usually get my meme on via Alex, but today Ian provides the latest variant list-making framework.

The rules:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc).
2. Put it on shuffle.
3. Press play.
4. For every question, type the song that's playing.
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button.
6. DON'T LIE! That's not cool!

Opening Credits: "Transfiguration #1" - M. Ward.
A quiet opener, maybe like the slow move through the swamp in The Muppet Movie. Kermit could do the "sitting Muppet nod dance" to this quite easily. But then Dom DeLuise comes in and it all goes sour.

Waking Up: "Rich Girl" - Hall & Oates.
Great eighties montage song. You could see Ferris Bueller mirror primping to this, working in a nice peg-pant spin. Would work well with the themes of money and happiness in that movie as well. Hmmm.

First Day Of School: "Artificial Heart" - Yo La Tengo.
A sort of generic post-punky YLT song with lyrics from poet Ernest Noyes Brookings of Duplex Planet zine fame. Striking resemblance to "Warsaw" by Joy Division. I guess it would be okay for the cool kid's arrival in a Zach Braff version of Footloose. And yes that is damning with faint praise.

Falling In Love: "Pop, Popcorn Children" - Eldridge Holmes.
Great falling in love song! Who doesn't fall for someone who can shake it? Plus, you can't help but smile and be happy hearing this as James Brown doing "Dancing In The Street."

Fight Song: "I Hold No Grudge" - Joy & The Hit Kids.
From a Krautrock sampler put together somewhere on the net (I'm sorry, but I don't remember where), this is a Moog-driven psychedelic take on an early sixties girl-group style song. Not great for a fight, but works as an "aftermath of a win by the underdog" sequence. You know, fixing the collar, hands running back to straighten the mussed up hair kind of thing.

Breaking Up: "Goody Two Shoes" - Adam Ant.
Got to show your cards, amiright? Untraditional - it sure ain't sad, but could be an interesting take if the focus is on the dumper v. the dumpee. No scat jokes, please.

Prom: "Joy Of Sound" - The Make-Up.
Born to hand jive, baby! We got clapping, grooves, and if you could get Ian Svenonious and co. to actually be the prom band in your movie, this scene would be classic.

Life: "Requiem For O.M.M.2" - Of Montreal.
Like Ian I don't really get this category, but it is a great "looking back at better times" song. So, I guess that works...

Mental Breakdown: "Count Five or Six" - Cornelius.
Ha! I'm not cheating people. The energy and repetitive vocals here are perfect - just counting, with some orientation directives. Your mind goes out with a harmonic feedback squeal. Fitting.

Flashback: "Aquarium" - Robyn Hitchcock.
As if I could play a dozen tracks without him popping up. Looking back and not understanding makes this a good flashback song. Not a happy one, not with these lyrics: "Everything revolves around the sun/You know I'm gonna miss you when I'm gone."

Getting Back Together: "Little Nut Tree" - The Melodians.
All about seeing true love in front of the little nut tree, and thanking the Lord for it. Kinda weak for this category - it is a "love at first sight" song. That rocksteady swing though - still magic.

Wedding: "Flying" - The Beatles.
Pretty melody, wonderful McCartney bass line. Stately, could be a good "walk down the aisle" song, as long as you get there before the flute part at the end (Yuck!). Not a wedding reception song.

Birth Of A Child: "Runnin' Wild" - Django Reinhardt & co.
People give birth in Woody Allen films, so why not? That chugging Gypsy swing could be matched nicely with those shots of laborious breathing - "hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, arrr!"

Final Battle: "The Bed's Too Big Without You (Mono version)" - The Police.
The menace in the introduction is palpable. Shame that Mary J. used it to no great effect a few years back. Wish it was slightly further into dub, though this mono version does compress and limit Sting's voice in interesting ways. Let's see - maybe cutting from eye to eye, no movement beyond a blink like in The Good, The Bad & The Ugly. I'm trying to make it work.

Death Scene: "Charlotte Anne" - Julian Cope.
Fragile, but a bright one, like a melting icicle. The lyrics are darker than the music, so it might work for a happy passing, a redemptive sacrifice. Man, that spoken bit is a little too Spinal Tap. But then, Julian seems to be Nigel in some ways.

Funeral Song: "Tiny Steps" - Elvis Costello & The Attractions.
Someone isn't happy with the mourners and wants to point fingers or something. Doesn't work in the least.

End Credits: "Maggie's Farm (live at Newport)" - Bob Dylan & his co-conspirators.
Dylan goes electric and drives the people out of the aisles. What's done is done, and Pete Seeger and his apocryphal ax can't change it. Go home, it's over.

Public Thanks

2006-12-19T15:40:00.000-05:00

I was just going to drop an email, but this started as a comment here and should be acknowledged here. Ian took the time to read my ramblings, think about the stuff I was praising and recommend me something he thought I would really like. I hereby thank him, praise him, symbolically wash his feet for the DEAD-ON recommendation of The Goslings.

Thanks to Ian, I have purchased the Spaceheater/Perfect Interior EP collection available on Crucial Blast Records (possibly available from your local purveyor of fine recorded goods, as mine was), and their latest work Grandeur Of Hair, which I ordered online from the Archive Records shop.

I listened to the new one first (because it arrived in yesterdays mail), but want to post my first impressions of the EP collection to start. Spaceheater/Perfect Interior is a compilation of the first two releases from this husband and wife team, originally on the Asaurus label in 2003 & 2004. These releases find the duo playing with feedback drone, guitar reverb and harmonic resonance in an ambient way, with moments of outright noise and/or reverential early nineties shoegazing loops. The song "Landing" brings to mind My Bloody Valentine. Throughout, vocals are buried, echo-ed and fuzzed into sounds human but not lyrical. There is some percussion, but not for timekeeping. Nothing on this album adheres to any pop sense of structure; no hooks, little repetition, no discernible overarching melodies. The Goslings may be a "nosie" band, but here they explore the noise as discreet elements.

Grandeur Of Hair shits all over the idea of discreet elements of sound. On Spaceheater/Perfect Interior a slow, rumbling wash of reverb-heavy guitar would repeat itself, forming a base from which to color the surrounding space with a clatter of tinny percussion or a high harmonic held just to the point of discomfort; on Grandeur Of Hair that heavy reverb is the tinny percussion, as pulsing, pounding storms of noise fill every nook, cranny and atom of space, overwhelming nuance in short order, an assault like the opening of Brotzmann's Machine Gun. This is sound that rattles your innards.

The only thing comparable, for me, was seeing My Bloody Valentine live. The volume was overwhelming, but it was a livable level of discomfort before they launched into "You Made Me Realise". For roughly fifteen minutes, pure noise berated and bludgeoned me, and the band took it up a notch every time that drumroll hit - the sound would peal downward, like it was sucked into a vortex created by the rapid-fire drums, then scream upward, seemingly louder and both angry and gleeful at it's escape. After the show my head was perfectly clear - I was deafened but renewed, a slate wiped of all thoughts and worries. My body, however, was broken; my joints ached, my back screamed at me as I climbed into my car, my kidneys defined by their throbbing outlines in the small of my back.

Grandeur Of Hair somehow recreates that in the comfort of my living room. I chose to listen first with headphones, as my wife was home and I know full well this is not going to be her thing. After an hour I tried to get up and it seemed I could feel each separate vertebrae, a Jenga tower that could not possibly keep standing. And I had no thoughts. I was clean, brain-scraped like I hadn't been in nearly fifteen years.

Thanks Ian. I needed that.

A Quick One While I'm Away

2006-12-18T16:06:00.000-05:00

Random MP3 connection of the day - The Ramones "Beat On The Brat" and Joy Division "Love Will Tear Us Apart".

"Beat On The Brat" is slower than I sing it in my head, very controlled and restrained in many ways. There is tension, as the song builds and you expect it to lurch forward wildly, but instead The Ramones hold it on the edge. Rather coolly in fact; they lock in the groove, and don't really modulate at all. No song about gleeful, wanton violence has ever been this controlled.

Joy Division are clenched equally but for an opposite reason - no explosion, no outward aggression, just an impending implosion held in check. The simple keyboard line on "Love Will Tear Us Apart" does double duty, giving guidance to the notes of the chorus Ian Curtis hints at but doesn't reach, and to blunt the attack of the drums. That drum tone is shockingly crisp, a biting cold snapping at your ears.

Neither Tommy Ramone nor Stephen Morris are given much credit in their respective band's critical biographies, though Tommy's replacement Marky has often pointed out the difficulty of replicating Tommy's style. The aural distinctiveness of the time keepers hold both these songs on a razor's edge, and back-to-back listening made me appreciate them both all the more.

Podcast #11

2006-12-14T12:40:00.001-05:00

There comes a time
When you heed a certain call:

Guest Perspective: Year in Music 2006

2006-12-12T09:47:00.000-05:00

My readers (you six know who you are) are integral to the "success" of Crackle & Pop. Comments are always appreciated, and the ensuing conversations are most welcome, but occasionally there is something greater than a comment you wish to share, and in that spirit I bring you the first Guest Perspective post.

This commentary comes from my sister Melissa. I asked for her thoughts on the year in music because her perspective is so different from my own. Where I miss the sounds of the forest by listening for the falling of the trees, she has her ears open as she walks leisurely through the woods (and yes, this may be the most tortured metaphor you encounter this week). Hopefully you get the idea, so enough blathering from me.

Melissa's Year in Music 2006

Stupid Music Tricks

- Alice in Chains tries to replace Layne Staley.

- It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp wins an academy award.

- Bon Jovi records a country song and it's successful.

- Taylor Hicks wins American Idol.

- Paris Hilton releases an album.

- Rockstar Supernova.

I'm Bored with You

- Janet Jackson - I don't care how flat your stomach is.

- Fergie - ewwwwwww you are nasty.

- Weird Al - seriously? People still find this amusing?

- My Chemical Romance - black Sergeant Pepper outfits don't make you
cool, they make you look stupid and vapid and ridiculous.

- James Blunt - you're WHINING, not beautiful.

- The Fray - ARGH. Shut up. I would like Grey's Anatomy so much better
without you.

Things that Make Me Happy

- Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera

- KT Tunstall, Eye to the Telescope

- Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars

- Gnarls Barkley, Crazy

- Def Leppard's Greatest Hits - Bought on CD since I no longer have a
tape player in my car. I am driving and singing, once again.

- Barenaked Ladies release their album on a flash drive. Very cool guys!

- Gwen Stefani, Wind it Up - I like the yodeling, so there.

Top 6 of 06

2006-12-11T11:08:00.000-05:00

The written version, hopefully clearer and more precise than the fevered ramblings on the podcasts. Again, these are not the objective "best" albums of the year, because there are plenty of releases I know are better than my picks. These are just the albums I listened too, obsessed over and thoroughly enjoyed.

Six: Midnight Oil - Flat Chat

One of the reasons I decided on a top six was I wanted to include this album but felt guilty as it isn't a new release. In fact, not only is it a compilation of previously released material, but it is one that didn't come out in the States. Flat Chat isn't a greatest hits (see 20,000 Watt R.S.L. for the tracks you know) - instead it is a collection of the Oils being the buttkickers they mostly were, those hits being cleaner and softer than much of their material. Growing up a friend had a "thing" for Midnight Oil, overpaying for short (though very good) EPs like Bird Noises and Species Deceases - thus exposing me to such great songs as "Progress" and "No Time For Games", both included here. Midnight Oil was always more than their hits, and this album does a great job of exposing that to the uneducated throngs. Since this isn't available domestically, I put together an iMix duplicating the tracklist. At $18, it is probably cheaper than tracking down the import. You should own all the Oils albums, but assuming you don't Flat Chat is not only a great collection but one that will get you hooked and wanting more.

Five: M. Ward - Post-War

First things first - it doesn't grab me like The Transfiguration of Vincent. However, it seems a step forward; Ward's embrace of a solid backing band, guest vocalists and a fuller production sound are a welcome move after the flat blandness of Vincent's unjustly lauded follow-up Transistor Radio. Post-War is front loaded to it's detriment - the first six tracks are, both singly and collectively, better than the last six by a large margin. This sequencing leaves the listener a bit let down, an unfortunate situation that was easily avoided. Given this, it isn't surprising that this is a record made for shuffle. Out of sequence, the sweetness of "Rollercoaster" and the sing-along fun of "Magic Trick" are a chance to breath and smile after the weighted poignancy of "To Go Home" or "Right In The Head". Not a perfect album, but one I return to with much regularity.

Four: Gyptian - Untitled (Reggae by Spliff) mixtape

[Disclaimer: I feel silly - in the podcast, I mentioned I didn't know anything about him, or when anything official was coming out, etc. I just searched on "the Google" and see he released an official album My Name Is Gyptian in September! Not the first nor last time I'll act like a buttmunch, so please be forgiving.]
This young Jamaican singer had an international hit late in 2005 with "Serious Times", an alternate version of which is found on this mixtape. The blend of roots reggae, soft R&B reminiscent of the "Quiet Storm" styles of the eighties, vocoder cheesiness, acoustic guitar earnestness and a flat-out wonderful voice has made this one of my most listened albums of 2006. The fact it doesn't easily fit a single category keeps it interesting - Gyptian is certainly an artist willing to defy market expectations by performing the songs he likes, as opposed to the rigid delineation so prevalent in radio friendly music.

Three: Witch - Witch

A thudding monstrosity of Sabbath-y guitar slinging and tom-tom bludgeoning goodness, the debut album from Witch was my soundtrack to summer driving. A blind buy based on a recommendation from my favorite record store manager, this ode to the joys of old-school riffidge and the cheesy appeal of "black magic" lyrics is as much fun as music can be. Is it artful, or even skillful? Not really. Bands like Mastodon blow them clean out of the water with technique and pretentious reach, but Orthodon (a friend's name for the Blood Mountain-eers, as he says listening to them is as appealing as a trip to the dentist) just don't seem like they're having as much fun as Witch. Sloppy as they may be, it in no way detracts from the pleasure of listening nor the obvious joy the band has in playing. Though it may only be a sideline for these musicians, it is one I hope continues. I always wanted the Bevis Frond to be this fun.

Two: Benoit Pioulard - Précis

I'm unsure sometimes on whether a description does more harm than good, and this is one of those times. Pioulard (the nom de tune of one Thomas Meluch) has created a soundscape around what would, in many other hands, be simple poppy folk songs. But here the wash of distortion, the layers of oscillating sounds, the sublimation of the vocals (and accompanying lyrical clarity) are reminiscent of the shoegazing era of the early nineties. But this isn't a dated sound; in the same way the Moonbabies did a few years ago with The Orange Billboard, Pioulard's Précis evokes more than apes the sounds and precedents of My Bloody Valentine and the Cocteau Twins. The ghost of alt-troubadour Elliot Smith is a commonly quoted touchstone in the reviews of Précis, but I think it is a cheaply dismissive one. Every douche with an acoustic guitar gets compared to Smith, and though Pioulard has one track that is arguably Smithian ("Sous la Plage"), it is more due to the fact that Smith in no way ever transcended his influences, so anyone with similar tastes can get painted with that casual smear. I hear more of the ghost of Jeff Buckley, though one who doesn't get trapped by the power of his own voice. Whether Pioulard can sing rings around Saturn is unknown; that Jeff Buckley felt obligated to because he could is well documented. But I do hear an occasional tremolous quality that hint at a Buckley influence. I find myself hypnotized by this album, never wanting it to end and listening all the way through at every listen. In this fragmentary age I can think of no higher compliment.

One: Man Man - Six Demon Bag

The soundtrack to the most fabulously twisted and emotionally charged Punch and Judy show never seen, Six Demon Bag has held off all comers since it's release in February. The gravelly-toned leader Honus Honus and his falsetto voiced multi-instrumentalist companions churn up a sound that is often likened to Captain Beefheart or Tom Waits, but Man Man's sound is one all their own; a blend of gutbucket blues and Weimar cabaret, with a touch of Screamin' Jay Hawkins theatricality and a dash of WTF from Witchiepoo and her H.R. Pufnstuf cohorts. From the manic screams of "Young Einstein on the Beach" (my favorite song title of 2006) to the sadly loving sounds of "Van Helsing Boombox" (with my favorite lyric of the year, beating out Lambchop with "I want to sleep for weeks like a dog at her feet/even though I know it won't work out in the long run"), Man Man's skewed pop - and it really is a pop album - is both inventive and engaging, a combination I found in short supply this year. Man Man reminds me, strangely enough, of the Pogues; incredibly tight (on record; though Man Man is drum tight live as well), gifted musicians, unafraid of a broad range of sounds, far ranging in taste and influence yet forging a sound uniquely their own from that stew. I'm probably - in fact most definitely - making more of them than what is there, but I'll be damned if I've enjoyed an album this much in a very long time.

Excuse Me, Please

2006-12-11T07:29:00.000-05:00

Podcast #10

2006-12-08T13:43:00.000-05:00

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Do click below and be transported to another place - one that may or may not be preferable to jail.

Podcast #9

2006-12-07T15:46:00.000-05:00

Wherin I begin to pontificate on those pieces of music I found most enjoyable and noteworthy this fine year. Stay tuned for part Deux and a written version in the coming days.

Click the pic and go there quick.

Close, But No Cigar

2006-12-06T14:18:00.000-05:00

Yet another list - this one of 2006 releases I gave a good deal of listening time and from which I received a good deal of listening pleasure, yet aren't the top of the pile.

Belle and Sebastian - The Life Pursuit. This one may be a victim of circumstances. Released early this year, I listened to this a lot through the early spring. However, I haven't had any great desire to listen to it since then, and when I did break it out again recently I was kind of bored. It is good, but has two failings for me - a little too samey, and not an advance on the leap of Dear Catastrophe Waitress. Highlights for me: "Blues Are Still Blue", "Mornington Crescent".

Bishop Allen - the monthly EPs. The decision to release a mailorder EP a month is both good and bad; an interesting "upping the stakes" on the Wedding Present's singles project from the early 90s, and the resulting boatload of dross with some shiny nuggets in the midst. Once this project finishes up (I expect December will show up at the house in mid-February) I'll address it as a whole. Highlights: "The Monitor", "Central Booking".

Ornette Coleman - Sound Grammar. One of the few artists deserving the title "living legend", his latest stands tall in the company of his classic Atlantic recordings. Sometimes delicate and sometimes challenging, the double bass quartet gives such strong support for Ornette's improvisations that he has the freedom to explore and open up the structure of his songs. Highlights: "Song X" (nice counterpoint to the Metheny/Coleman versions from the 80s), "Matador".

Dresden Dolls - Yes, Virginia. If you take away a few dogs (particularly the weak attempt at a mainstream hit, "Sing"), this would have been a challenger for the top of the heap. A move away from some of the cutesier aspects of their debut (there is no "Coin-Operated Boy" sequel, thank heavens) and the emergence of Brian Viglione's drumming as a more forceful part of their recorded music (his playing live has long been a bigger feature) pays great dividends. Pianist/singer Amanda Palmer is moving past the aping of Weimar-era cabaret and finding her own sound. Highlights: "My Alcoholic Friends", "First Orgasm".

Elvis Perkins - mySpace songs. There used to be a few other tracks on his homepage, but all you need to hear is "Ash Wednesday" - my song of the year, were I to be listing singles. There is definitely a touch of Jeff Mangum/Neutral Milk Hotel in his vocals, but "All The Night Without Love" and it's gypsy swing hint at some less angsty influences. Highlights: I've heard a few tracks not on his mySpace page but the two mentioned here are my favorites.

The Evens - Get Evens. A strong second album, with a bit more Fugazi peaking through the cracks. Ian MacKaye stays on baritone (aka "surf") guitar again, but opens up his sound with greater angularity of attack and with space for drummer Amy Farina to play. The resulting album is more direct than the effuse and relatively subtle debut, and the lyrics match that clarity with more pointed criticism of particular figures as opposed to authority in the abstract. Not surprisingly, the target is mainly Bush and the policies he enacts. I get frustrated with the sometimes too smartsy lyrical style (You fell down/You feel let down), but MacKaye has been doing the same kind of things for 25 years so it ain't gonna change. Highlights: "All You Find You Keep", "You Fell Down".

Kaki King - ...Until We Felt Red. I didn't care for Ms. King's earlier work - virtuoso guitar playing of the thumb slapping/lightning fast picking variety is better in abstract than reality. Here she teams with Tortoise's John McEntire and her sound expands with washes of textural orchestration and even singing (though, to be honest her singing is breathy little wisps that are best ignored as words and appreciated as another sonic layer). Her skillful guitar is still present, just not the only point of the exercise. I appreciate soundscapes; Kaki King and co. have crafted a varied and multi-layered one on this album, but there is a better one this year which keeps this on the outside looking in. Highlights: "You Don't Have To Be Afraid", "Ahuvati".

Lady Sovereign - Public Warning. The fact that I had or had heard 8 of the 13 tracks really made this anticlimactic. Note to Sov - if you are basically releasing a singles compilation for a debut full-length album then include your best song. The absence of "Ch-Ching" is glaring in that light. Though I've heard much of this over the last few years, it still is really well done (except for the laughable back-in-the-day reminiscing of "Those Were The Days". Nothing is more pathetic than the musings of lost youth at the ripe old age of 19). The beats are minimal but moving, and the self-proclaimed "biggest midget in the game" has an engaging style and definite skills. Should have been out a year and a half ago, when it would have been met with greater appreciation. Highlights: "Random", "Public Warning".

Lambchop - Damaged and Decline of Country & Western Civilization, Part II: The Woodwind Years. The Nashville collective 's latest album and their rarities/b-sides compilation are both good for different reasons. The previously unreleased song "The Gettysburg Address" from Decline may be their zenith - "We hold these truths to be self-evident/We drink beer in bars" is one of my favorite couplets of this or any year. On the other hand, Damaged is just that; a document of pain, faith and recovery, inspired in no small part by bandleader/lyricist Kurt Wagner's battle with cancer that included the removal of a part of his jaw and it's replacement with a piece of his hip. Even with that he only makes one joke about his side hurting when he laughs. It is an album to listen to alone and attentive. Highlights: "I Would Have Waited Here All Day", "Prepared [2]".

The Long Winters - Putting The Day To Bed. Part of me loves power pop and good old sing-along rock 'n' roll, but I'll freely admit I'm also a little skewed. The Long Winters seem to approach songwriting with this in mind, as John Roderick has a tendency to add extraneous bits or just draw things out too long and sabotage his little pop gems. On this album he seems to try to rein in those tendencies and it backfires a little. Where 2003s When I Pretend To Fall soars and crashes in equal amounts by throwing in My Bloody Valentine inspired squalls of noise and campy Camper Van Beethoven-esque violin powered hoedowns, 2006 finds Roderick and his current cohorts riffing like Cheap Trick without the knowing camp. I also find it a tiring listen, as it is mastered unbearably high and hot - the waveforms are just a solid block of sound, with all the dynamic range of a brick to the head. Despite all this, the songs are catchy and I've listened over and over - just in the car and not on headphones. Highlights: "Fire Island, AK", "Honest".

Robyn Hitchcock & The Venus 3 - Olé! Tarantula. I've already gone over this ad nauseum, but I really do like it. Repeated listens verify the early impression that it is the best thing he's done in a fair while, and I'm sopping it up like the metaphorical sponge. Highlights: "Museum Of Sex", "Olé! Tarantula".

The Streets - The Hardest Way To Make An Honest Living. I may be the only person to like this album, but I like him whining about how his life is still crappy now that he is famous (at least in the UK) and rich. Instead of tirelessly repeating himself like every other urban artist, he tells stories about what is going on in his life, and is honest about what a prick he can be and how misanthropic as well. It isn't A Grand Don't Come For Free, but it has some good tracks. I wish the beats were a little more varied, but there are some solid ones here, particularly the swing of the title track and the "Let It Be" similarities of "Never Went To Church". Highlights: "The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living", "Can't Con An Honest Jon".

Various - The World Is Gone. I know squat about British dance music, and can't tell dubstep from garage from drum 'n' bass (that might be oversimplifying, but not much). So I'll call this electronic music with acoustic guitars. Strum 'n' bass, perhaps? I like the mix of organic and mechanized sounds; The Notwist album Neon Golden is probably my favorite of this decade, and I've championed Lamb to all who would listen. This reminds me of the latter band, and were I to find out any of the principles from Lamb were involved in this project I wouldn't be surprised. The album leaps from the hard, clinically sterile electronics of opener "Thunnk" to the soft acoustic guitar of "Circle of Sorrow" and it's Beth Orton like vocals. Flipping around throughout that broad spectrum, The World Is Gone is an entertaining and engaging listen. It won't supplant Lamb's What Sound from it's place as my goto acoustolectricstravaganza (I sometimes wish all I did was make up faux Parliament song titles), but I do enjoy listening. Highlights: "Lost", "Sir".

Discoveries (Old, New & Overlooked)

2006-12-04T10:15:00.000-05:00

2006 has been a strange year. Music has re-centered my life in a big, big way - primarily because of high-speed internet becoming affordable in the backwoods I call home. The internet has bloated my music collection to such an extent I almost feel it necessary to step away and absorb for a while. The dearth of anything on the horizon I even feel like giving half a listen to will help ease that feeling. As the year winds its way down, I wanted to make some notes of things I "discovered" this year, from both the magical, mystery nodes of the 'net and from getting my greedy mitts on some back catalog I've unjustly ignored.

AC/DC - Angus Cha Cha. Already brought this up, so suffice it to say I still think it is stellar.

Adam & The Ants - Antbox. This collection of rarities, demos, hits and b-sides was chosen by the Antman himself, and released overseas back in 2000. I found it for a good price and picked it up. It only reinforced my impression that he is one of, if not the, most overlooked artists of the punk/new wave era. Three cds of pure genius (even his filler is killer).

The Beatles - Alternative Sgt. Pepper. A bootleg comprised of outtakes, demos and related pieces, with audio culled from the Anthology dvds and other sources where George Martin, Paul McCartney and others discuss the evolution of the songs and the recording process itself. I'm not a big Sgt. Pepper fan, but hearing the process of making such a seminal recording is incredibly interesting for a music geek like myself.

Billy Bragg - Live in Hamburg (radio broadcast). A download available from Archive.org, wherein the loquacious Billy pontificates on the Mermaid Avenue project instead of blathering on about Billy himself. I saw him once on a double bill with Robyn Hitchcock and he talked for ten minutes on either side of each song he played, with such witty remarks as calling Oasis "Osmosis" and that he bathes his son with pride. The focus on Woody Guthrie really helps, for Woody was actually interesting, unlike ol' Billy.

Bob Dylan - Blood On The Tracks (N.Y. Sessions), Folksinger's Choice, and Thin Wild Mercury Music. I have accumulated too much Dylan, but these three are outstanding. The N.Y. Sessions are the original recordings, before he found them too spartan and re-recorded with a fuller arrangement. They deserve a legitimate release. The Folksinger's Choice is an early radio performance, with wonderful question and answer pieces with the host and some killer versions of songs like "Death of Emmit Till." Thin Wild Mercury Music covers 1965 & 66, with Dylan going electric. As those first two electric albums are my favorites this is near Grail-like for me. More information on these and thousands of other Dylan bootlegs is available at Bob's Boots.

David Bowie - 50 Dead Dogs. A bootleg of his star-studded fiftieth birthday concert at Madison Square Garden in 97. Great sound, and the Foo Fighters really kick up a proper bombastic racket on "Hallo Spaceboy."

Faces - Wicked Messenger. More from the bootleg parade! A collection of 1970 radio performances, wherein these drunken boys prove their worth. I don't much care for their studio albums, but every live recording has blown me away.

Fugazi - The Argument. I somehow missed this upon it's release in 2001. Picking it up this year I was flat-out stunned. If it came out this year it would most likely be my top pick. Instantly vaulted to the top of their catalog. I eagerly await the follow-up (I can hope can't I?).

Little Feat - Live at Ultrasonic Studios (73 & 74). Two more from archive.org. Little Feat has always had a generous taper policy and an active and inviting tape-trading community. These two radio performances are better than their entire studio output. So what are you waiting for? Ultrasonic 73, and the next years return engagement.

Neil Young - Time Fades Away & Going Back To Canada. The first is the lost Neil Young - an official live album from 73 that has yet to be released on cd. It is really good, and interesting as a follow to the commercial high of Harvest. Touring on that album and assaulting the audience with these ragged, rocking new songs must have been an experience. Somehow big and extremely personal, Time Fades Away is a powerful work. On the opposite end of the spectrum of scale and sound is Going Back To Canada, a 1971 concert recording from Toronto. A nervous Neil prefaces new songs with a humility and warmth the bristly Young is not known for. Worth tracking down.

Pogues - all them reissues. They sound great, and I touched on them in the AC/DC writeup linked above.

Prince - Dream Factory. Another boot, this one an early draft of Sign 'O' The Times. This has some tracks recorded before the breakup of The Revolution, and Wendy & Lisa's influence looms large. I think I may like it more than the final version, as it doesn't contain "Housequake" or "Hot Thing", and Prince - though heir to the Godfather he may be - doesn't do a good James Brown. This is in some ways the culmination of the explorations of Around The World In A Day and Parade, whereas Sign 'O' The Times is more of a crossroads, and after hearing this sounds more of a hodge-podge than the amalgam of past and future Prince it seems.

Q-Tip - Kamaal The Abstract. This is an unreleased album from 2002, and I'll be damned if I'll ever understand why this was shelved. It may not have been a great commercial album, but it is outstanding! It is an even greater homage to the jazzy soul of the 70s and early 80s than even the Tribe's great The Low End Theory. To these ears it is the apotheosis of the neo-soul sound, an album that stands high above heads of the D'Angelos and Bilals of the world. Q-Tip melds hip-hop and soul into an organic other - not just a different beat, a different thing.

Sly & The Family Stone - Live at the Fillmore East. Another shelved recording, this time scheduled for a 2003 release. Live at the Fillmore East is a recording of both shows from October 5, 1968. Sly and co. were at the top of their powers, a grooving, jamming monster of a band. The recording suffers from some hot vocals, which may have led the perfectionist Sly to nix the release. That's a shame, as this recording is the hotness.

Talking Heads - Live on Tour. A promotional vinyl recording from 1979, this is the Heads before the big suits and the bigger band, when they were a rock band not a world music traveling extravaganza. Nice compliment to Rhino records deluxe reissue The Name of This Band is Talking Heads. I liked them as punky white funksters more than as a Fela Kuti/Roxy Music world/art/pretentious hybrid.

Velvet Underground - Live at End Cole Ave. Part of this show is chronicled on 1969: Velvet Underground Live; this is the whole damn thing. Though the legend of the Velvets may have overshadowed the music, some of it was outstanding. Though the studio albums are great, some of the live recordings (like this one and The Quine Tapes) blow them out of the water like so much flotsam and jetsam.

Podcast #8

2006-11-30T10:32:00.000-05:00

You know the drill. Hup, two, three, four. Hup, two, three, four.

Tom Waits For No Man

2006-11-29T09:13:00.000-05:00

Welcome back, if I must say so myself. The title of this little tirade connects to two things: 1) I had a high-school English teacher who had a soft Virginian accent who happened to say "time" like "Tom", so we used to always ask, "Tom who?" whenever he dropped some platitude about time. 2) Tom Waits has released a highly anticipated odds 'n' sods mixed with new bits collection called Orphans, which I hate to say is more than disappointing.

I like Waits. Some might say I like him more than is healthy, as I've gone out of my way at various times to track down demos, b-sides and rarities (I mean, I bought Stay Awake, the Hal Wilner helmed Disney tribute, basically to get his version of "Heigh Ho." I'm glad I did, because Los Lobos contributed an amazing take on "I Wan'na Be Like You (The Monkey Song)" from The Jungle Book). I expected Orphans to be right up my alley, or at least the "rarities" portion, though I had some hope that delving in the archives might have been of benefit to the new recordings. Instead of outtakes from the past thirty years, Orphans seems primarily to be songs from the past thirty years recorded in the past five. There is no session information, and his vocals on most songs sound suspiciously like the Waits of Mule Variations and later. There is some precedent for this; 2002's Alice was new recordings and arrangements of tracks written and recorded nearly a decade earlier.

Take the aforementioned "Heigh Ho". I have the original to compare it to, and - lo and behold! - it isn't the same performance. The vocals are either new or remixed in such a way as to blend more smoothly with his present croak (the original, from 1989, has him forcing his voice to an extreme that now sounds like a premonition of his current state), and the arrangement has changed, with a fuller sound and added harmonica. Though still unsettling compared to the happy-go-lucky chaps in Snow White, it has lost some of the work-song-mixed-with-menace of the original. Another audible change has been applied to his contribution to the Skip Spence tribute More Oar from the hoary days of 1999. The song "Books of Moses" has had a new vocal treatment and has had drums slapped on top of the existing bongo rhythm.

Re-recording is frustrating and angering, but on top of that is the realization that there is a reason why most of this stuff has never seen the light of day; it just isn't very good. There aren't many real departures from the Waits formula of strangely named protagonists in mid-tempo tales of trouble and the devil, with a side dish of weepers and sad-sack tales of woe. Did you ever wonder what it might sound like if you mashed the rhythm of "Get Behind The Mule" with the orchestration and vocal style of "Big in Japan"? Well, today is your lucky day, for that very combination exits on the probably Mule Variations-era outtake "Fish In The Jailhouse." But did I forget to mention that it appears to have about six lines and thirty repetitions of the phrase "Fish In The Jailhouse"? I did? sorry, guess that's why it is an outtake, after all.

If you like the Tom Waits of the latest vintage, then I'm sure you will find plenty to like here - it all sounds familiar (or painful but easily dismissed, like his Bukowski poetry recitations). There are a few solid songs - I think the Bawlers disc (I guess I forgot to mention that he has thematically grouped these as Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards - rockers, ballads and oddballs, respectively) has maybe a half dozen. I think there are better ways to spend $40-50 on Tom Waits albums - get Nighthawks, Swordfishtrombones, Frank's Wild Years and The Black Rider. Or assuming you have all of those near essentials, go to rbally.net and download this great radio performance from 1975 before it is gone.

Podcast #7

2006-11-16T12:38:00.000-05:00

The times are tough now, just getting tougher
This old world is rough, its getting rougher
Cover me, come on baby, cover me

Other People's Taste

2006-11-15T13:22:00.000-05:00

It's approaching that time of the year when nerds, dweebs, hipsters, bohemians, cranks and charlatans decree the greatness of some nerd, dweeb, hipster, bohemian, crank or charlatan musician. The End (of the year list) Is Nigh!

So in honor of the aforementioned NDHBCCs (you may decide on your own to which category or categories I belong), here are some things that will appear on many of those lists but not on mine. In alphabetical order:

Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not & Art Brut - Bang Bang Rock & Roll. Art Brut and the Arctic Monkeys do nothing for me. I can't slag them off because they can't hold my attention long enough for me to hear if they're doing anything interesting with the post-punk fashions of the day. I guess I should turn in my Anglophile membership card or something before I get gobbed on by some blighter.

Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings The Flood. I feel kind of bad listing Neko with some of these dogbottoms like The Knife and Nellie McKay, but hear me out. I actually like her voice, and this album is just fine. Unfortunately, its not any better than that. To me, Neko Case falls into Emmylou Harris territory - I really like her voice, but I find I enjoy her most when she is collaborating with other artists. Emmylou with Gram Parsons or Neil Young or Willie Nelson - sublime. On her own - mainly solid, sometimes uninspired. Neko with The New Pornographers is fun, and is in fact the only part of that band's sound that I like. Neko with The Sadies or The Pine Valley Cosmonauts (her best work, in my opinion) is even greater. Even her small guest roles with M. Ward or Giant Sand or John Doe are highlights of those artists vast recorded work. I hope in 20 years we get an album comparable to Emmylou's Wrecking Ball; until then I'll enjoy her supporting role for other artists.

The Decembrists - The Crane Wife. Colin Meloy - The Dan Bejar for people who who wish there was an album called Pirate Tales From Topographic Oceans.

Destroyer - Destroyer's Rubies. Dan Bejar - the Colin Meloy for people who pretend to dislike prog or the 1660s.

Bob Dylan - Modern Times. You know the variety of songs on Love & Theft, from Forties shuffle to barn-burning blues to old-fashioned ballads? Well, forget what you know, because this band only plays variations on "Summer Days" and "Mississippi", and we get an hour of that. Now, stay awake and listen to an entirely different Dylan - the emerging snarl of Love & Theft is now a carefully crafted (as in, he reportedly recorded a line or two at a time because he can't actually sing. Based on recordings from shows this year, I would say this is correct) croon, a dime-store version of a pre-Hank Williams Grand Ole Oprey star. One thing going for it - no Daniel Lanois, so it doesn't have the leaden reverb of Time Out Of Mind. Woo-hoo.

The Hold Steady - Boys And Girls In America. I already castigated these poor fellows for their derivative sound and lyrical subject matter. Others may enjoy them, especially if they can't get enough of THE RAWK but are ashamed to listen to Foghat or the Goo Goo Dolls, who were The Hold Steady of the Nineties.

The Knife - Silent Shout. I liked "Heartbeats" a few years ago. Good minimalist beat, solid Siouxsie Sioux vocal impression. I listened to this a few times and I realized I really don't like Depeche Mode enough for this to work. Enjoy The Silent Scream would be a more appropriate title, as they in no way transcend either of the aforementioned influences. Plus they appear in Venetian carnival bird masks. I like Matthew Barney and Peter Greenaway too, but come on.

Mastodon - Blood Mountain. I can't help but think Tarkus - from the silly Wild Hunt inspired cover to titles like "Cicle of Cysquatch" and "Pendulous Skin." Mastodon is so overly serious in their metalosity that they come across like Emerson, Lake and Pestilence (borrowed from THE super group, the Four Horseman of the Progocalypse). I can accept the technical virtuosity of their thundering , but I like a little absurdity and self-awareness in my stentorian attack. Give me Dragonforce. That is pure cheese virtuosity.

Nellie McKay - Pretty Little Head. I can't believe Columbia dumped her! I mean, don't they know the marketing potential of this? I mean, how could anyone, in the year of High School Musical, not market this as "Liberal Arts College Drama Department Musical (The One Woman Show version)"? What is wrong with you people? Oh, by the way, she now has two double albums of variations on three songs.

Joanna Newsom - Ys. The pedigree gets her a B+ starting grade in indie circles - idiosyncratic harpist/vocalist lays down tracks with "don't call him a producer even though he fulfills the producer role" Steve Albini, then has Smile collaborator Van Dyke Parks write and record orchestration, and turns to tastemeister/nob twiddler du jour Jim O'Rourke to mix the resulting cornucopia of plenty into spun gold. Unfortunately, it amounts to gilding a turd. The praise for her lyrical complexity is admirable if somewhat off target; alliterative couplets and archaic verb forms are lost amidst the rhythmic repetition and mangled metaphors. There was some line about monkeys and spelunking that made me laugh out loud at how incredibly silly it all is and how deathly serious she portrays it. Because of her vocal limitations and the songs she writes, Parks is crippled from the outset; limited tremendously in the range and character of what he can do, he can only repeat trills and flourishes to no great effect. Speaking of her voice, it is said you either love it or hate it. I quite agree. She sounds like Judy Tenuta.

Yo La Tengo - I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass. One of my all-time favorite bands records a greatest hits album without any hits. It is the most Tengo-by-numbers thing they've ever done. A mad-lib version, with "guitar freakout", "farfisa garage rock song," "Georgia sung ballad," "falsetto James' song that belongs on a Dump album," "song from Ira to Georgia," and "another guitar freakout." Plus filler.

Podcast #6

2006-11-09T12:13:00.000-05:00

It's that time of day, when you can say, come on and head for the mountains...

Love? Or Like? Or Worse?

2006-11-06T16:46:00.000-05:00

That picture is the cover of The Beatles "reimagining" coming out on November 21. For those of you unfamiliar with this project, it is 20-something songs that serve as the "soundscape" for the latest Cirque de Soleil Vegas extravaganza. Original producer George Martin & his son Giles (reports are it was mainly Giles) have mixed a bunch of songs together - the first legal Beatles mash-up/sample - and I'm concerned. Though I expect the audio quality of such a project to be top notch, I cringe at some of the press release examples:

"If you can imagine 'Strawberry Fields Forever' beginning with John's original demo before going into an early take of the song and then climaxing in a musical collage including the piano solo from 'In My Life' and the harpsichord pattern from 'Piggies' and lots, lots more--or 'Get Back' prefaced by the 'Hard Day's Night' opening guitar chord, the guitar and drum solos from 'The End,' and segued into 'Glass Onion,' you will begin to get the picture."

I can imagine these things, but I'm having a hard time imagining they're any good. Fortunately for me, I have heard a four song sampler from this album, though they fade before segueing into the next track so I can't judge the "soundscape" concept, or the sequencing.

The tracks I've previewed - at admittedly low quality - are "Lady Madonna", "Octopus' Garden", "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". My first thought is that it isn't horrible. Though that seems damning with faint praise, I had such trepidation about the project that instant hate was my expected reaction.

"Lady Madonna" opens with a bit of "Why Don't We Do It In The Road" (Ringo's drums are pretty distinct) and uses the "ba ba ba ba" backing vocals from the original to guide us into "Lady Madonna" proper - maybe a different vocal track? - which carries us along into the guitar from "Hey Bulldog" and a guitar solo I can't place. A few other stray pieces (some organ I'm not placing), a couple of god-awful saxophone stabs. Solid, though it doesn't add or displace the original in any way. Good as remixes go.

"Octopus' Garden" is one of those throwaway Ringo tracks that are unfairly derided - yes it is silly, but The Beatles were not afraid of silly. Here we start with the strings from Paul's treacly "Good Night." Ringo seems slowed down - strange - they've split the lines a bit so it may be mainly that the flow is different. A little touch of "Yellow Submarine" in the background as the song kicks in. The drums sound really good on these tracks. during the solo they've mixed John saying assorted words, "Late. Beautiful," over the solo. It is driving me nuts that I can't quite place the chuka-chuka guitar bit right before the song fades into the guitar intro of "Sun King." I'll get it eventually. Less interesting than "Lady Madonna."

"Strawberry Fields Forever." I've heard plenty of demos, various takes and mixes of this over the years. This sounds a great deal like what George Martin was doing with it in the Anthology videos, where he isolates and plays different sections and versions. It builds to where you expect it to go before layering other things onto it - I feel I should note the clarity of the little backwards tape bits is crisp as a New England morning in autumn - the "Sgt. Pepper" trumpet fanfare into "In My Life" (the piano bit mentioned above), then "Penny Lane" and its coronet, the aforementioned "Piggies", a touch of the crescendo of "A Day In The Life" as recurring background unification, the "hela heba heloa" vocals from "Hello Goodbye" running it aground at the end.

I'll end with "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" (henceforth WMGGW, not to be confused with WWJJD, or What Would Joan Jett Do), for it is a different beast from the prior songs. Here is the biggest rework - we start with just George's underrated singing and his sublime guitar playing. Yet when one expects a band we get strings; big, overwrought strings. I don't have the slightest idea where these are from, as generally "big strings" were used in Paul's deeply moronic and simplistic paeons to nothing in particular (have you ever listened to Eleanor Rigby and given a shit for the titular woman? Ever? Crusty bag, symbol of crusty bags the world over. The visuals chosen to accompany it in Yellow Submarine are perfect - cardboard cutouts with cardboard cutouts layered as backdrops to provide depth. The Mantovani string quartet George Martin pasted in is auditory cardboard. ), and damned if I still don't block those puppies out of my consciousness. I only know the previously mentioned "Good Night" because I didn't know it for years and years. As a child, the cassette I had of The White Album didn't have this song because it didn't fit on the tape. I didn't hear it until High School, so it is still one of the "new" Beatles songs for me. Now back to WMGGW - that's it. George solo performance, plus strings of boredom. This was my fear - a horrible eructation as opposed to the somewhat clever mash-ups and reworkings of the prior songs. I can imagine this serves a purpose in the Cirque de Soleil performance; a change of tempo, an auditory break, probably as accompaniment to a solitary clown, miming the death of a flower, it's fading bloom and decomposition leading nicely into the questioning nihilism of "A Day In The Life" (WMGGW is sequenced right before this in the album).

Overall a mixed bag. The sound is great - The Beatles catalog is due a proper mastering, as the best recordings I've heard are MP3 files made from immaculate high grade vinyl (yes they sound beter than the cds). Three of the tracks are well done, if not revelatory of any new insights into how damn good The Beatles were. The fourth? A shiver, a shame. Letting people hear how good the song was even in a demo-like solo state is wonderful, but the cloying, choking strings are a travesty. Sucker I am, I still want to hear the whole thing.

CORRECTION: It has been pointed out to me that "Good Night" was a John Lennon song. It seems in my desire to paint Paul with a treacly brush, I have missed badly. Instead of correcting the post, this correction is to remind me to be less of a all-knowing gasbag. The song is still overblown tripe, however. And I hold Paul & George Martin response for introducing John to the Mantovani strings.

Lenny

2006-11-03T13:56:00.000-05:00

Today's random goodness from iTunes: Django, Wes, Jimi & Stevie Ray, in order. Now you're saying to yourself, "Far out! Cosmic Man!" I reply, "No, grasshopper. A message." (OT: my wife and I were watching Thank You, Mr. Moto the other evening and she pointed out that the actor portraying Prince Chung was Master Kan on Kung Fu. "35 years didn't change those eyes," she said. I was duly impressed.) I'm not quite sure of the message, mind you, but it did make me think about each of these artists individual talents.

Django Reinhardt makes me smile; even when he touches sadness, you know it will pass like water under a bridge. Wes Montgomery is the subtle master, effortless and true, but he plays hard, aggressively, his thumb heavy like a bass players. Hendrix took that attack and made it his own. Where Wes and Django brought feeling through technique, Jimi is feeling through motion - accuracy be damned! - a missed note forgotten in forward propulsion. Hendrix had technique, but knew his time was one of rules be damned. And then Stevie Ray Vaughan.

To be honest, I've always admired Vaughan more than I've liked him. His playing is awe inspiring, but often seems to veer into noodling. When he is focused, like on the sublime recordings from Carnegie Hall (the Double Trouble portion - once Dr. John and company join in it steps back to mortal levels), he's nearly untouchable; so searingly white hot that he can burn all other guitarists out of my mind. Other times, just so much Yngwie Malmsturbation. Luckily for me, the track that came up was "Lenny." Written for his wife, it is as heart-on-the-sleeve as anything I've ever heard. The lyricism of his playing gives me goosebumps (which is most likely more than you need to know). I've never read a good description of his playing on this - it is a blues ballad, but incomparable, even to ballads by comparable talents like Buddy Guy or Robben Ford. I promise not to post YouTube videos willy-nilly, but sometimes I can't sum things up in words...

Podcast #5

2006-11-01T17:33:00.000-05:00

A day early than the past few. Don't take it as a sign - you'd only be fooling yourself.

Click the pic, baby! Click the pic!