Yeah, the band name and the album title do not inspire confidence, do they? I had visions of confused, experimental ramblings, layer on layer, building to an apocalyptic cacophony before breaking off into the sound of kittens and car horns in the distance.
Way to be open minded, PD.
It begins with a guitar solo, punctuated by the bass and drums. The solo is in the high octaves with a very tight distortion and I'm nervous because too much of that is gonna become an irritation sooner rather than later. It only goes on for a few bars though before giving way to an easy blues groove and the vocals enter. Psychedelic lyrics from a voice that's pretty conversational for the subject matter. It's not a great voice but it's in tune and comfortable on the ear. It's a short track, not a proclamation of genius by any stretch but you get the sense it's gonna get better rather than worse.
The next track is a slinky little groove called Not So Sweet Martha Lorraine. There's a high, reedy organ sound decorating much of the tune that is sailing very close to the wind, however. If I'm distracted by the contribution of a single instrument then the song is not being served in my book.
Death Sound Blues is as you might predict, an uneventful slow blues littered with that tight, whiny guitar. He plays really well and the bass and drums are tight but I can't help feeling that his tasty phrasing would've been better employed in the middle of the neck.
It's a very tinny sound really and I feel a bit robbed cuz these songs have interesting words and good grooves but the piercing pitches of organ and lead guitar keep harshing the mellow.
Oh bollocks. Happiness Is A Porpoise Mouth delivers on its promise of being pretentious twaddle for every one of its 171 seconds. This is followed by 7 minutes and 24 seconds of confused wank entitled Section 43. If you ever had a jam on drugs - acid in particular, you'll recognise the common failing of the substance to keep your attention on what the rest of the players are doing. It's a journey, sure but you depart a unit of musicians working on something recognisable. You arrive a collection of individuals who are no longer aware of each other, making random noises that more by luck than judgment are still in the same key.
Then suddenly we're back in the land of the mentally competent. Superbird is a very groovy little protest song about Vietnam. It seems that way to me anyway. Talks about sending Lynden Johnson back to Texas. Great tune and followed by an inoffensive pop number that even though they're not good enough singers to pull off the harmonies they're going for, I'm still grateful it's not another 7 minute acid jam.
Love has a false start. But it's done quickly enough to escape my wrath and it's a groovy tune. I'm starting to rediscover my faith in this album not being a dead loss. But I spoke too soon.
The next one's called Bass Strings. Okay. So we can't even be fucked to think of titles any more. It's very Doorsy and that's just about as damning a summary as I can give.
The Masked Marauder sees the organ actually discover a lower octave which is a blessed reprieve at this point but it's too little too late. It's an instrumental piece with two sections but never really finds its feet in either.
Electric Music For Mind And Body concludes its pioneering sojourn in the land of psychedelic rock with 7 minutes of exactly the sort of thing I was talking about a few paragraphs back. It's fine if you're fucked out of your mind. But who wants to slip themselves a musical roofy?
Friday, June 20, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
#0078: The Beatles - Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band [*****]
In 1987, to mark the 20th anniversary of this iconic, standard-setting work of pure fucked-up genius, the artists of the day recreated the entire album and called it Sgt Pepper Knew My Father.
You may remember from my review of Rubber Soul that I had never heard Sgt Pepper due to a printing error. In point of fact, SPKMF was the first time I had heard these songs in order. It occurred to me that I was incapable of judging those covers cuz I had no frame of reference. So I went out and bought the remastered original.
It is impossible for me to recreate my response to my first listen and to tell you the truth, I know this album so well now I could write this from memory. Even weaker tracks over the further 20 odd years since the remaster, have become beloved to me even if just by virtue of repetition.
Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band
The sound of an audience at the start of a show creates anticipation. For those who bought this when it came out, it must've echoed their own nervous excitement because the Beatles had been away constructing this for quite some considerable time and the fans knew a change was coming.
Then exploding out from the hubbub the riff, dirty and jagged like the lid of a hand-opened tin can, tears its way through to the front. The vocal is gutsy, the harmonies panoramic and the grand crescendo as the title line is delivered is a promise any right thinking person would struggle to believe could be delivered.
With A Little Help From My Friends
But the seamless transition into this two-edged stomper is all the reassurance you need. So Ringo's singing and you might be forgiven for thinking, "We're only one track in. It's a bit early for a shit one."
But again the harmony support, the entrance of the bass and drums for the chorus and the power of its melody and message makes you forget that Ringo has the weakest voice of the four.
The harmonies that come in on the second verse are my favourite part. Exquisite.
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
Ever done acid? I've listened to this song before and after my awakening and I honestly don't care if Lucy is code for Lysergic or not. This song is trippy as fuck. Is that a harpsichord picking out the opening theme? Again, the instrumentation is daring. But the bass line is the unsung hero of the verses, for my money.
This practice of a soft verse with a hard chorus I have a feeling was pioneered on this album[*]. It's a form that has been used to great effect on any number of all time classics. Elton John, on his version of this (which I prefer in some ways, like his version of Pinball Wizard), make much more of the bouncy, glam drums but that would sound out of place here.
And the lyrics are arguably the best space-cadet words in songwriting history. Kaleidoscope eyes. Fucking genius.
Getting Better
The octave on the guitar pattern here is the hook. Simple as a smack in the face and just as effective at getting your attention. It's very McCartney and it's one of those songs that makes me smile whenever I hear it.
Fixing A Hole
The bridge parts of this aren't among my favourites either lyrically or musically and it's a shame really cuz the verses are amazing. The plaintive words and melody express mature themes with an unpretentious philosophical tone that can comfort and inspire when you're reevaluating things. And that descending pattern on the guitar that comes in after the irresistably singable "where it will go". So the middle bit's a bit shit. I've made my peace with it.
She's Leaving Home
It's been too long and the NME compilation with the Billy Bragg version has long since been lost from my collection. This song is a salutary lesson in counterpoint that is entirely appropriate for its treatment of the subject matter. It deftly handles the upset, confusion and even anger the parents feel but also the daughter's perspective. Played on conventional instruments it would still be a brilliant song but the use of harp is a stroke of scene-setting brilliance that is outshone only by the cello doing what cellos do best - haunt and make the heart ache.
Being For The Benefit Of Mr Kite
After the somewhat harrowing track preceding, a bit of light relief is in order but nobody expected this absurd little interlude. It's another one that I've come to like over the years. Does it have any hidden meaning? Or is it just a load of bollocks? The instrumental section - i.e. the accompaniment for Henry The Horse's waltz - is pretty great actually. The fairground organ puts me in mind of a carousel and the scene in the Elephant Man where Elphick's character shows up and gets into the house somehow and they're spinning Merrick around and pouring whiskey into his mouth? It's quite a disturbing scene really. Throw a horse dancing into the mix and you've got yourself a nervous breakdown.
Within You Without You
Okay. Now this is why you don't get six stars. This entire time I was ready to breach the five star system in the other direction and I genuinely thought this would be one of them. But I always forget about this cuz it's George Harrison and his bloody sitars. It's not an unpleasant sound I suppose but I just don't get on with this directionless meandering about the scale.
When I'm 64
This is a perfectly placed song. Wakes me up after the weird ones. Try to forget its use as the theme tune to shows like Points Of View. The image of Barry Took isn't going to be conducive to capturing the 30s atmosphere created mostly by the clarinets.
Lovely Rita
I always get this tune in my head whenever I see a police woman. I know it's wrong on some level but it's not like I decide to do it. It just pops in there. It's such a funky song when you think about it.
Good Morning Good Morning
This is the kind of track you might have chosen to open side 2 but here, approaching the end of the album the statement is made that this collection still has some balls. It kinda plays the same part as Got To Get You Into My Life on Revolver. It's a thumper of a tune. Yes, there are time changes but each section has its own addictive rhythm. Not sure about the fox hunt noises at the end, mind.
Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)
So good they played it twice. This double tempo reprise of the title track is the finale. This is the kind of music cast members can walk to the apron to and take a bow. Some progressions just have that quality. The album could quite easily end here and you'd leave satisfied but they've planned an encore and what an epilogue it makes.
A Day In The Life
Hailed by many as the greatest Beatles song ever written**, this is a ground breaking song format still emulated today by Coldplay and the Foos to name but two of the biggest bands in the world right now. I've never been able to make much sense of the words so I don't feel very emotionally attached to it lyrically but the music is a masterful display of arrangement. It builds from simple beginnings to a powerful crescendo and then drops right back down to the piano but at double tempo and builds again before the opening theme comes crashing back in for the close. It's ambitious and daring and a perfect ending to the album.
"Never Could Be Any Other Way"?
Is this part of A Day In The Life? The weird loop at the very end? I think I remember somebody at school saying if you played that backwards it said "Paul is dead". I've never tried. I could never be arsed.
* - I could be wrong. I don't do a lot of research for these reviews. If I have the wrong info in my head, please feel free to correct me in the comments.
** - and certainly by this site
You may remember from my review of Rubber Soul that I had never heard Sgt Pepper due to a printing error. In point of fact, SPKMF was the first time I had heard these songs in order. It occurred to me that I was incapable of judging those covers cuz I had no frame of reference. So I went out and bought the remastered original.
It is impossible for me to recreate my response to my first listen and to tell you the truth, I know this album so well now I could write this from memory. Even weaker tracks over the further 20 odd years since the remaster, have become beloved to me even if just by virtue of repetition.
Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band
The sound of an audience at the start of a show creates anticipation. For those who bought this when it came out, it must've echoed their own nervous excitement because the Beatles had been away constructing this for quite some considerable time and the fans knew a change was coming.
Then exploding out from the hubbub the riff, dirty and jagged like the lid of a hand-opened tin can, tears its way through to the front. The vocal is gutsy, the harmonies panoramic and the grand crescendo as the title line is delivered is a promise any right thinking person would struggle to believe could be delivered.
With A Little Help From My Friends
But the seamless transition into this two-edged stomper is all the reassurance you need. So Ringo's singing and you might be forgiven for thinking, "We're only one track in. It's a bit early for a shit one."
But again the harmony support, the entrance of the bass and drums for the chorus and the power of its melody and message makes you forget that Ringo has the weakest voice of the four.
The harmonies that come in on the second verse are my favourite part. Exquisite.
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
Ever done acid? I've listened to this song before and after my awakening and I honestly don't care if Lucy is code for Lysergic or not. This song is trippy as fuck. Is that a harpsichord picking out the opening theme? Again, the instrumentation is daring. But the bass line is the unsung hero of the verses, for my money.
This practice of a soft verse with a hard chorus I have a feeling was pioneered on this album[*]. It's a form that has been used to great effect on any number of all time classics. Elton John, on his version of this (which I prefer in some ways, like his version of Pinball Wizard), make much more of the bouncy, glam drums but that would sound out of place here.
And the lyrics are arguably the best space-cadet words in songwriting history. Kaleidoscope eyes. Fucking genius.
Getting Better
The octave on the guitar pattern here is the hook. Simple as a smack in the face and just as effective at getting your attention. It's very McCartney and it's one of those songs that makes me smile whenever I hear it.
Fixing A Hole
The bridge parts of this aren't among my favourites either lyrically or musically and it's a shame really cuz the verses are amazing. The plaintive words and melody express mature themes with an unpretentious philosophical tone that can comfort and inspire when you're reevaluating things. And that descending pattern on the guitar that comes in after the irresistably singable "where it will go". So the middle bit's a bit shit. I've made my peace with it.
She's Leaving Home
It's been too long and the NME compilation with the Billy Bragg version has long since been lost from my collection. This song is a salutary lesson in counterpoint that is entirely appropriate for its treatment of the subject matter. It deftly handles the upset, confusion and even anger the parents feel but also the daughter's perspective. Played on conventional instruments it would still be a brilliant song but the use of harp is a stroke of scene-setting brilliance that is outshone only by the cello doing what cellos do best - haunt and make the heart ache.
Being For The Benefit Of Mr Kite
After the somewhat harrowing track preceding, a bit of light relief is in order but nobody expected this absurd little interlude. It's another one that I've come to like over the years. Does it have any hidden meaning? Or is it just a load of bollocks? The instrumental section - i.e. the accompaniment for Henry The Horse's waltz - is pretty great actually. The fairground organ puts me in mind of a carousel and the scene in the Elephant Man where Elphick's character shows up and gets into the house somehow and they're spinning Merrick around and pouring whiskey into his mouth? It's quite a disturbing scene really. Throw a horse dancing into the mix and you've got yourself a nervous breakdown.
Within You Without You
Okay. Now this is why you don't get six stars. This entire time I was ready to breach the five star system in the other direction and I genuinely thought this would be one of them. But I always forget about this cuz it's George Harrison and his bloody sitars. It's not an unpleasant sound I suppose but I just don't get on with this directionless meandering about the scale.
When I'm 64
This is a perfectly placed song. Wakes me up after the weird ones. Try to forget its use as the theme tune to shows like Points Of View. The image of Barry Took isn't going to be conducive to capturing the 30s atmosphere created mostly by the clarinets.
Lovely Rita
I always get this tune in my head whenever I see a police woman. I know it's wrong on some level but it's not like I decide to do it. It just pops in there. It's such a funky song when you think about it.
Good Morning Good Morning
This is the kind of track you might have chosen to open side 2 but here, approaching the end of the album the statement is made that this collection still has some balls. It kinda plays the same part as Got To Get You Into My Life on Revolver. It's a thumper of a tune. Yes, there are time changes but each section has its own addictive rhythm. Not sure about the fox hunt noises at the end, mind.
Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)
So good they played it twice. This double tempo reprise of the title track is the finale. This is the kind of music cast members can walk to the apron to and take a bow. Some progressions just have that quality. The album could quite easily end here and you'd leave satisfied but they've planned an encore and what an epilogue it makes.
A Day In The Life
Hailed by many as the greatest Beatles song ever written**, this is a ground breaking song format still emulated today by Coldplay and the Foos to name but two of the biggest bands in the world right now. I've never been able to make much sense of the words so I don't feel very emotionally attached to it lyrically but the music is a masterful display of arrangement. It builds from simple beginnings to a powerful crescendo and then drops right back down to the piano but at double tempo and builds again before the opening theme comes crashing back in for the close. It's ambitious and daring and a perfect ending to the album.
"Never Could Be Any Other Way"?
Is this part of A Day In The Life? The weird loop at the very end? I think I remember somebody at school saying if you played that backwards it said "Paul is dead". I've never tried. I could never be arsed.
* - I could be wrong. I don't do a lot of research for these reviews. If I have the wrong info in my head, please feel free to correct me in the comments.
** - and certainly by this site
#0077: Nico - Chelsea Girl []
There is something very odd about the sound of this woman's voice. Is that a German[*] accent maybe? It's a very low voice, too. I mean, she might be a tenor. The accompaniment is a clean electric guitar sound with support from flute and a few strings. The melodies are packed full of perfect 4th and 5th intervals, which is fine in context but when that's _all_ you do it's a fucking ballache to listen to.
There's something else about that voice, too. It's ever so slightly out of tune. Not enough in tune to be quirky and not enough out to be Marc Almond but right there in the middle of a zone I like to call "oh, for fuck's sake".
I am presently in the middle of an 8 minute assault on my resolve as a pacifist called "It Was A Pleasure Thing". Nothing could be further from the truth. This expressionless and slightly flat man's voice, ineptly stumbles around over the earlier tracks but at least you could hear what she was going for. Now that the experimental bollocks has started, we descend into harmonic anarchy. Feedback, which I'm sure is supposed to be "atmospheric", from the guitar teams up with the vocal, which I'm sure if transcribed by Terry Pratchett, would appear in upper case. The two coalesce to form an instrument of sonic torture so inhumane they wouldn't even use it in Guantanimo.
Title track. Another one over 7 minutes. Oh god I want to beat her face in with a brick and stick that flute up her arse. Fucking horrible noise: skip to the very end of the track and listen to the last note. Why did the engineer not demand another take? You can't fix a paucity of talent in the mix.
Next track - oh good, same key. There is absolutely no phrasing, no variation in tone whatsoever. This has got to be some kind of practical joke. Not even the most sinister nepotism or sexual harassment could explain the presence of this musical torpor in recording history.
I say only 5 minutes to the end of the album but I am almost in tears. Each succeeding note is cutting through my chest now and drawing grimaces from my face usually reserved for watching the Walking Dead.
Oh please. PLEASE make it stop.
* - Apparently, she is German.
There's something else about that voice, too. It's ever so slightly out of tune. Not enough in tune to be quirky and not enough out to be Marc Almond but right there in the middle of a zone I like to call "oh, for fuck's sake".
I am presently in the middle of an 8 minute assault on my resolve as a pacifist called "It Was A Pleasure Thing". Nothing could be further from the truth. This expressionless and slightly flat man's voice, ineptly stumbles around over the earlier tracks but at least you could hear what she was going for. Now that the experimental bollocks has started, we descend into harmonic anarchy. Feedback, which I'm sure is supposed to be "atmospheric", from the guitar teams up with the vocal, which I'm sure if transcribed by Terry Pratchett, would appear in upper case. The two coalesce to form an instrument of sonic torture so inhumane they wouldn't even use it in Guantanimo.
Title track. Another one over 7 minutes. Oh god I want to beat her face in with a brick and stick that flute up her arse. Fucking horrible noise: skip to the very end of the track and listen to the last note. Why did the engineer not demand another take? You can't fix a paucity of talent in the mix.
Next track - oh good, same key. There is absolutely no phrasing, no variation in tone whatsoever. This has got to be some kind of practical joke. Not even the most sinister nepotism or sexual harassment could explain the presence of this musical torpor in recording history.
I say only 5 minutes to the end of the album but I am almost in tears. Each succeeding note is cutting through my chest now and drawing grimaces from my face usually reserved for watching the Walking Dead.
Oh please. PLEASE make it stop.
* - Apparently, she is German.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
#0076: Astrud Gilberto - Beach Samba [**]
"Stay and we'll make sex with music." It's a pretty clumsy opening line, you've got to be honest. But her voice, with its light, airy quality and the slight Hispanic hue to her accent seem to give it charm. The flute work is of particular note.
I don't have a good history with Latin music but like anything, if it's done well it can satisfy my finicky tastes. This is done well but if I close my eyes I can smell the disinfectant on the floor of the supermarket this is playing in. I can feel the mechanism of the elevator. I can see the credits of the 1970s couple caper on TV. It's cheese.
Then A Banda. Sounding like Billy Smart's Circus is in town but at least having the decency to have lyrics pertaining to the big top, it trumps across the aural landscape, parping and tooting like an old people's home on mouldy sprouts Thursday.
Normal service is then resumed. And by normal service, I mean this well executed, softly intoned, ice-cream-headache-inducing-ly inoffensive wank. The string arrangements and the interleaving of the flute are expert. There's really nothing wrong with it but that's kinda the problem. Who is this woman? "I had the craziest dream last night". Really? Did you finish a game of mahjong with a tile left over? Did you find your Sound Of Music DVD in the Wizard Of Oz case?
I mean Christ. Ted Rogers wouldn't've booked this shit for 3-2-1 during the World Cup.
Oh but the flute.
You know what? Fuck the flute. I'm half way thru and I'm already sick of falling back on that as the saving grace.
My Foolish Heart has to be a standard, though. It's a beautiful song. I'm guessing she was some kind of mind-spinning hottie cuz her voice is only a song's worth of charming.
There was a show in the 80s that David Jacobs (God rest his soul) presented called "Where Are They Now?". If you're looking for this chick, try La Tasca first. She'll be the haggard, slightly surly waitress, foundation-soaked, fighting-the-HRT-flab and being careful not to smile too broadly cuz her teeth might put you off your food.
Now she's singing with a kid. In unison. Big mistake. Kids don't hold a tune so well. What you end up with is a quarter-tone discord. Why do you think school choirs sound so shit? They're all out by that much. Utterly horrifying.
Okay, get me the scissors. I'm five tracks from the end and there is no end in sight. I've now figured out what it is about her voice I don't like. There is absolutely no expression in it. It's like she doesn't really speak English and the producers have told her the songs are about futures contracts on shoe lace wax.
Call Me, not the Blondie song, is probably famous. Billy Crystal sings this in When Harry Met Sally during the montage of him calling her over and over. He does a better job on a shitbox karaoke machine than this insipid bint. I like the song very much but she's pissing in its mouth. And not in a good way.
Can we just assume the remaining tracks passed without incident? No, actually. There's a classy piano solo on Tu Meu Delirio. Skip to 2 minutes in to avoid the vocals. Unless you like ghosts singing. That's not really fair to ghosts, I grant you. I've seen Corpse Bride.
I don't have a good history with Latin music but like anything, if it's done well it can satisfy my finicky tastes. This is done well but if I close my eyes I can smell the disinfectant on the floor of the supermarket this is playing in. I can feel the mechanism of the elevator. I can see the credits of the 1970s couple caper on TV. It's cheese.
Then A Banda. Sounding like Billy Smart's Circus is in town but at least having the decency to have lyrics pertaining to the big top, it trumps across the aural landscape, parping and tooting like an old people's home on mouldy sprouts Thursday.
Normal service is then resumed. And by normal service, I mean this well executed, softly intoned, ice-cream-headache-inducing-ly inoffensive wank. The string arrangements and the interleaving of the flute are expert. There's really nothing wrong with it but that's kinda the problem. Who is this woman? "I had the craziest dream last night". Really? Did you finish a game of mahjong with a tile left over? Did you find your Sound Of Music DVD in the Wizard Of Oz case?
I mean Christ. Ted Rogers wouldn't've booked this shit for 3-2-1 during the World Cup.
Oh but the flute.
You know what? Fuck the flute. I'm half way thru and I'm already sick of falling back on that as the saving grace.
My Foolish Heart has to be a standard, though. It's a beautiful song. I'm guessing she was some kind of mind-spinning hottie cuz her voice is only a song's worth of charming.
There was a show in the 80s that David Jacobs (God rest his soul) presented called "Where Are They Now?". If you're looking for this chick, try La Tasca first. She'll be the haggard, slightly surly waitress, foundation-soaked, fighting-the-HRT-flab and being careful not to smile too broadly cuz her teeth might put you off your food.
Now she's singing with a kid. In unison. Big mistake. Kids don't hold a tune so well. What you end up with is a quarter-tone discord. Why do you think school choirs sound so shit? They're all out by that much. Utterly horrifying.
Okay, get me the scissors. I'm five tracks from the end and there is no end in sight. I've now figured out what it is about her voice I don't like. There is absolutely no expression in it. It's like she doesn't really speak English and the producers have told her the songs are about futures contracts on shoe lace wax.
Call Me, not the Blondie song, is probably famous. Billy Crystal sings this in When Harry Met Sally during the montage of him calling her over and over. He does a better job on a shitbox karaoke machine than this insipid bint. I like the song very much but she's pissing in its mouth. And not in a good way.
Can we just assume the remaining tracks passed without incident? No, actually. There's a classy piano solo on Tu Meu Delirio. Skip to 2 minutes in to avoid the vocals. Unless you like ghosts singing. That's not really fair to ghosts, I grant you. I've seen Corpse Bride.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
#0075: Nina Simone - Wild Is The Wind [****]
I confess to panicking a little when this started. The opening track is a strutting blues not unlike the last 2 albums I've listened to. Don't get me wrong, this woman's voice elevates the form above its everyman ennui but I was surprised, given what I know about her.
Four Women, I'm sure must be a famous song in some circles. I'd never heard it before but from the first line it was clearly important. The lyrics are four verses, each describing a woman in the first person. Each one is representative of a black woman and together plot a path from slavery to the bitterness of militant anti-white attitudes of the time. The album comes up against the backdrop of the Civil Rights Movement, Dr Martin Luthor King, a time of significant change in the saga of racial tension in America and this song is particularly poignant when considered in context.
Separated by the ethereally dark Lilac Wine, two off-the-rail Simone smoochers simultanously haunt and soothe with their soft swing. I can imagine That's All I Ask being covered by soul singers to this day but a quick search reveals it has been tragically overlooked, with only Jeff Buckley appearing to have done it.
Break Down And Let It All Out is bit more of a ballsy soul number but she is much more at home in the gentle climate of misty agony and though the words consistently express the sorrow of love's multi-faceted propensity to deliver pain, it seems the faster rhythms are present mostly for variety.
The title track didn't trigger recognition until it started. Bowie did this on Station To Station and the two versions seem like entirely different songs. I never really liked Bowie's version and indeed until now I thought he'd written it. It apparently first written for Johnny Mathis. I haven't heard his version but I would struggle to accept another rendition as the definitive version having heard Nina Simone's treatment.
The rest of the album goes on in much the same way and reveals itself to be music played in a darkly lit room, where old friends sit and talk until late or lovers hold each other in the fragile afterglow, the trickling piano and breathy vocal fusing them together in eternal beauty no matter the inevitable pain forthcoming.
Four Women, I'm sure must be a famous song in some circles. I'd never heard it before but from the first line it was clearly important. The lyrics are four verses, each describing a woman in the first person. Each one is representative of a black woman and together plot a path from slavery to the bitterness of militant anti-white attitudes of the time. The album comes up against the backdrop of the Civil Rights Movement, Dr Martin Luthor King, a time of significant change in the saga of racial tension in America and this song is particularly poignant when considered in context.
Separated by the ethereally dark Lilac Wine, two off-the-rail Simone smoochers simultanously haunt and soothe with their soft swing. I can imagine That's All I Ask being covered by soul singers to this day but a quick search reveals it has been tragically overlooked, with only Jeff Buckley appearing to have done it.
Break Down And Let It All Out is bit more of a ballsy soul number but she is much more at home in the gentle climate of misty agony and though the words consistently express the sorrow of love's multi-faceted propensity to deliver pain, it seems the faster rhythms are present mostly for variety.
The title track didn't trigger recognition until it started. Bowie did this on Station To Station and the two versions seem like entirely different songs. I never really liked Bowie's version and indeed until now I thought he'd written it. It apparently first written for Johnny Mathis. I haven't heard his version but I would struggle to accept another rendition as the definitive version having heard Nina Simone's treatment.
The rest of the album goes on in much the same way and reveals itself to be music played in a darkly lit room, where old friends sit and talk until late or lovers hold each other in the fragile afterglow, the trickling piano and breathy vocal fusing them together in eternal beauty no matter the inevitable pain forthcoming.
#0074: The Yarbirds - Roger the Engineer [**]
I was given to understand that the Yardbirds were the yardstick of Blues. Well, while the presence of blues influence is unmistakably felt on many of the songs, this is a lot more of a pop album than in it is a 101 of blues mastery.
Rather than gravel bitten solo lamentations from the well of despair, the vocals are enriched with harmonies that even though nowhere near the red zone are definitely on the Beach Boys/Beatles spectrum. The guitars, also, do not play the dominant role they usually have in blues music. There are tracks with even a tinge of the psychedelic about them, almost foreshadowing the early sound of Pink Floyd. Not such a surprise, you may say, Floyd having combined the names of blues musicians to make their name.
Standing out from the generic sixtiesness is Hot House Of Omagarashid - a straight, snare-on-the-one driver, which in spite of the weak vocal is the most interesting melody and progression on the album.
None of it was really offensive though until Turn Into Earth, which is only a two minute song but whose first 90 seconds yawns into eternity before snapping back into a godawful trite play-out section that shouts "we've run out of ideas" as loud as any seventeen minute experimental finale. Thank the good lord for small mercies, there isn't one of those but the trippy, trying-way-too-hard-to-be-deep Ever Since The World Began at 2:56 is more than a bit testing on the old patience.
Rather than gravel bitten solo lamentations from the well of despair, the vocals are enriched with harmonies that even though nowhere near the red zone are definitely on the Beach Boys/Beatles spectrum. The guitars, also, do not play the dominant role they usually have in blues music. There are tracks with even a tinge of the psychedelic about them, almost foreshadowing the early sound of Pink Floyd. Not such a surprise, you may say, Floyd having combined the names of blues musicians to make their name.
Standing out from the generic sixtiesness is Hot House Of Omagarashid - a straight, snare-on-the-one driver, which in spite of the weak vocal is the most interesting melody and progression on the album.
None of it was really offensive though until Turn Into Earth, which is only a two minute song but whose first 90 seconds yawns into eternity before snapping back into a godawful trite play-out section that shouts "we've run out of ideas" as loud as any seventeen minute experimental finale. Thank the good lord for small mercies, there isn't one of those but the trippy, trying-way-too-hard-to-be-deep Ever Since The World Began at 2:56 is more than a bit testing on the old patience.
#0073: John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers - Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton [***]
I like blues in isolation. But there don't seem to be many variations available within the form to keep it interesting over a whole album. Its simplistic structure makes it very accessible for listeners and players but that also makes it easy to play badly.
That said, this album starts with a strutty kinda groove that breaks into that driving compound three you hear on tracks like Sweet Home Chicago. It's sung clearly, the guitar is precise and tuneful and it doesn't bang on for too long. There is a feel change in the next track too and I see a pattern forming.
Track 3, a fast straight 4 comes and goes in its already bland competence.
But just as I was getting bored, there's a very short track of just harmonica and claps with singing over the top. It's a clever little interlude that wakes me up again and gets me ready for some more guitar. What we're then treated to is that deep plunging, slow 6 so definitive of the genre. The track opens with a flourish on the piano and then it all kicks in but again, it's only a few minutes. No self-indulgent 10 minute solos.
There's a very nice cover of Ray Charles' What I'd Say with some tasty and understated organ work. The drum solo, while providing variety wasn't in itself particularly interesting (and I'm a fan of drum solos in general) and even within a four and a half minute song was too long but when the song comes back in, the guitarist employs the riff from Daytripper over the main groove and the band add some dynamics that bring it all to a satisfying close.
The album goes on through fast skiffle rhythms peppered with pristine harmonica licks (Parchman Farm), broad stompers with horn support (Key To Love) and another slow 6, but this time lead by saxophone with a thick, gooey organ pad that separates it from the previous one.
Have You Heard, however is almost six minutes long and after the vocals come in, it gets tired quick. Robert Plant on vocals, it would've carried but whoever's singing has too soft a voice to pull this off. After three and a half minutes there's the telltale crescendo and the guitar breaks into solo. Nice work. Can't fault that young man, really.
Now this is interesting. It's another slow 6 but just piano and guitars. I say interesting but its appeal ends with their choice of instrumentation. Same scales, same progression, same lacklustre vocal. Bit of a non-track really after a promising start.
Stepping Out is a show-stopping instrumental with lavish horns and a brazen guitar riff and then the album closes with a fast skiffle featuring harmonica again.
As far as blues goes, this is as good as I've heard and they've certainly worked hard to keep it interesting. I just can't ride that 1-4-5 train for more than a few stops.
That said, this album starts with a strutty kinda groove that breaks into that driving compound three you hear on tracks like Sweet Home Chicago. It's sung clearly, the guitar is precise and tuneful and it doesn't bang on for too long. There is a feel change in the next track too and I see a pattern forming.
Track 3, a fast straight 4 comes and goes in its already bland competence.
But just as I was getting bored, there's a very short track of just harmonica and claps with singing over the top. It's a clever little interlude that wakes me up again and gets me ready for some more guitar. What we're then treated to is that deep plunging, slow 6 so definitive of the genre. The track opens with a flourish on the piano and then it all kicks in but again, it's only a few minutes. No self-indulgent 10 minute solos.
There's a very nice cover of Ray Charles' What I'd Say with some tasty and understated organ work. The drum solo, while providing variety wasn't in itself particularly interesting (and I'm a fan of drum solos in general) and even within a four and a half minute song was too long but when the song comes back in, the guitarist employs the riff from Daytripper over the main groove and the band add some dynamics that bring it all to a satisfying close.
The album goes on through fast skiffle rhythms peppered with pristine harmonica licks (Parchman Farm), broad stompers with horn support (Key To Love) and another slow 6, but this time lead by saxophone with a thick, gooey organ pad that separates it from the previous one.
Have You Heard, however is almost six minutes long and after the vocals come in, it gets tired quick. Robert Plant on vocals, it would've carried but whoever's singing has too soft a voice to pull this off. After three and a half minutes there's the telltale crescendo and the guitar breaks into solo. Nice work. Can't fault that young man, really.
Now this is interesting. It's another slow 6 but just piano and guitars. I say interesting but its appeal ends with their choice of instrumentation. Same scales, same progression, same lacklustre vocal. Bit of a non-track really after a promising start.
Stepping Out is a show-stopping instrumental with lavish horns and a brazen guitar riff and then the album closes with a fast skiffle featuring harmonica again.
As far as blues goes, this is as good as I've heard and they've certainly worked hard to keep it interesting. I just can't ride that 1-4-5 train for more than a few stops.
Monday, June 09, 2014
#0072: The 13th Floor Elevators - Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators [**]
I had to clean my house urgently.
I'm not a very domesticated animal. Things get messy fast when I live somewhere. But it's not usually that long before I reach what I call "critical mess" and have a thorough clean and tidy up. Then the cycle starts again. Cleaning a bit less regularly every week until finally there's no point even trying to find a bin cuz the floor will do.
Having said that, I have had the benefit of living with a few very fastidious, let's face it, OCD nightmares who hoover twice a day etc. So I know _how_ to get a place clean and how to stay on top of it. I just tend to lose my way very easily.
I recently had a house inspection that caused a bit of a panic so I decided to set an alarm on my phone every day at 7pm to motivate me to stop what I was doing and go do half an hour's cleaning. I divided the house up into zones and started in Zone 1 until the half hour was up. The next night I would start where I left off. My reasoning being that by the end of each week I would have cleaned the entire house at least once.
I needed the alarm tone to be something arresting and inspiring so I chose Iron Maiden's Phantom of the Opera. I'm trying to deny to myself that this had anything to do with Lucozade or Daley Thompson.
While I was setting up for a gig a few days ago, my cleaning alarm went off. The band who had just finished all remarked "Awesome ring tone!".
Having scored some rock n roll points from the kids, it would have been unwise of me to tell them what it was really for.
What does that have to do with this album? Fuck all, really. Except that I was trying to listen to it while I was cleaning the house up for the inspection. What I found was that the album finished and I had completely different music going round in my head. Clearly my subconscious felt that the soundtrack to my cleaning efforts should be something it liked.
It's clangy and tinny and so saturated with reverb it could indeed have been recorded in an elevator shaft. There are loose, droney jams on here that are quite reminiscent of The Doors but I'm saving my spleen to vent for when Morrison and Co actually appear.
The lyrics are indecipherable but that is a problem with the recording rather than the singer's diction, I think. I've made several attempts to listen to this and even sat here listening intently it still can't hold my attention.
I don't really know how to judge it cuz technically I still haven't heard it. So, I'll go with a random two. Two says, "So dull I never made it through a complete sitting."
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