One of the reasons I started this blog was to become better versed in genres which I don't ordinarily spend a lot of time listening to. Contemporary jazz. Electronic music. And perhaps most of all, hip hop. I've always felt like I was missing a lot when it came to the rap and MC biz. I had my favorites, for sure, almost all universally acknowledged as seminal, and almost all huge crossover success stories: Public Enemy, NWA, Wu Tang Clan, Beastie Boys, Mos Def, MF Doom. But I wasn't well versed in the history of hip hop, and I didn't really have a clue about who might be considered an under appreciated MC.
So, I did a bit of research. The thing that attracts me most to hip hop is the flow of the MC and lyrical relevance, and wherever I looked in this regard one name kept popping up time and again: AZ. AZ is Anthony Cruz, a Brooklyn rapper known mostly for his collaborations with Nas, one of the biggest names in the genre. AZ is considered by hip hop purists to have perhaps the best flow of any rapper in history. Furthermore, while he has been the recipient of considerable critical praise, he has never achieved significant commercial success for his solo work. A perfect subject for this blog.
"Doe Or Die" is from his debut album of the same name. AZ is absolutely sick on this track, his delivery subtle and effortless. The entire album is excellent, and he plans on releasing a "Doe Or Die 2" this year. I look forward to it.
The Mars Volta
Album: The Bedlam And Goliath
Song: Wax Simulacra
There are times when I hear in Mars Volta the future of rock'n'roll. There are times when I find them goddam boring as they recycle the same (albeit interesting) idea time and time again. It's really hit and miss. Regardless, this performance gives you a sense of their virtuosity and their practically unlimited potential. Cool avant garde jazz elements. Love the sax solo at the end, an Ornette Coleman-esque nod to noise.
Incidentally, this song won Mars Volta a 2008 Grammy for "Best Hard Rock Performance." Don't hold it against them.
Not sure if I'm a fan of Ms. Monae, but I've got to give her huge props for her creative courage. It must be hard for a black woman to make the type of music she does, which combines pop, rock, jazz, hip hop, prog rock and the kitchen sink in a groovy musical stew. James Brown is an obvious influence. Sorta reminds me of a female version of Outkast. And she writes concept albums. ArchAndroid represents the second and third parts of her "Metropolis" trilogy, in which Monae's alter-ego Cindi Merriweather becomes a messiah-like figure to an android army. Wow. And yes, Fritz Lang's Metropolis is the primary inspiration. And her energy! Holy cripes she never stops moving. A great performer. She has toured with indie darlings Of Montreal. Has an iron in every damn fire.
I'm gonna hedge my bets a bit, however. Puff Daddy or P-Diddy or whateverthefuckhegoesbynow is her mentor. Will be interesting to see if she remains true to her (somewhat difficult to market) self or goes off the Diddylicious pop chart deep end.
Been on a bit of a psychedelic spree recently. Love, 13th Floor Elevators, United States of America, a liberal pinch Captain Beefheart here, a wee sprig of Velvet Underground there. And, it almost goes without being said, a healthy helping of Pink Floyd, the greatest of the psychedelic bands. When I was a kid I listened to their first album, Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, religiously. Whenever my parents were out of the house I would blast it at eardrum bursting levels. Not sure what the neighbors thought. The spiritual leader of early Pink Floyd was Syd Barrett, considered by some a musical genius. He fried his brain pan with LSD, became increasingly erratic, and was kicked out of the band; subsequently Pink Floyd became more and more progressive until only a vestigial trace of its psychedelic roots remained.
Fantastic stuff.
But I'm not here to talk solely about Pink Floyd. Most of my psychedelic rock collection is from the genre's heyday in the late 60s, and to be perfectly honest I didn't think that many -- even any -- bands kept the torch flickering today. Just recently, however, I was introduced to the music of Sleepy Sun, a California group currently garnering significant critical acclaim. Can't say I was completely bowled over by their music, but several good tracks stood out, including our song of the day. Hope you like it.
Four Tet is Kieran Hebden, notable primarily for his opening slot on a recent Radiohead tour. Stylistically quite diverse, at times seemingly ambient, jazz, classical, and pop. It's the type of music that requires several listens to fully appreciate, and I must admit that I didn't find anything particularly remarkable in this tune originally. Grew on me though. I really like the song's free-form structure and atmospheric gamelan-inspired melodies. Quite beautiful. The video is also great. As one YouTube commentator said, "All videos should be of girls jumping up and down." Too right.
I've already railed at length against the cultural horror that was the early- to mid-80s; there's no need to beat that dead horse. But let me provide one last example of what was considered musical high art from the time:
Get it? This was the good stuff. Synthesized sounds were the brave new world and every shitty band from here to Cucahmunga was determined to shove as much of it as possible down our throats. Talk about suppressing the gag reflex.
Anyway, my point is that this stuff was really entrenched in the popular psyche. The biggest selling albums, and many of the most critically acclaimed albums, were from the same basic genre as that Human League song. I find it difficult to believe and I lived through it. Mainstream critics really did think of this as the logical extension of rock music.
Now, I know what you're thinking. R.E.M. featured on a blog about obscure or under-appreciated music? And yeah, I agree with you to a certain extent. But it's important to imagine the context in which R.E.M.'s first EP (extended play record, for you youngsters out there) was released. The charts were dominated by these synth hacks when R.E.M. suddenly provided a ray of sunshine, the possibility of something better, on the pop music horizon. In a way, Chronic Town was as subversive and influential as the punk scene which bubbled and roiled just under the surface of popular music. I would argue, in fact, that it was the equal of the new wave in providing a popular alternative to synth pop.
So. Subversive and original then, now merely well-crafted songs. Enjoy.
Jane's Addiction
Album: Nothing's Shocking
Song: Mountain Song
Song: Mountain Song (live)
My favorite comment ever about Perry Farrell, lead singer of Jane's Addiction: "Perry Farrell looks like an insect. Perry Farrell sings like an insect. Is Perry Farrell an insect? Just wondering." So wrote Johnette Napolitano, member of the crappy 80s band Concrete Blonde, in a letter to the editor of SPIN magazine. There is indeed something insect-like about the weirder-than-life singer, but he's a heck of a front man and has a genre-appropriate screechy voice.
If the band seems particularly musically adept, it's cos their lead guitarist is the great Dave Navarro (Red Hot Chili Peppers) and their bassist, at times, is Flea. These guys can flat out play.
Jane's Addiction was a very popular act in the mid 90s, releasing two great records: Ritual de la Habituel and Nothing's Shocking but they have been largely ignored over the last decade or so. I remember listening to "Mountain Song" incessantly on a trip to Calgary with a young soccer team that I helped coach at the time. The head coach and I traveled together, and we brought with us one of the players, a kid maybe 14-15 years old. He sat there, at times cringing, at times open-mouthed, as we worked our way through Nothing's Shocking over and over again. Poor guy. This was at the height of the "boy band" phenomenon. Backstreet Boys were the preferred music of practically every young dumbass. "Mountain Song" is pretty much the antithesis of this sort of craptastic effluence, which is at least partly why I enjoyed it so much.
Gilberto Gil
Album: Gilberto Gil
Song: Expresso 2222
One of the founding members of, and driving forces behind, the Musica Popular Basileira. Musical innovator. Jailed for being a threat to the Brazilian military regime that took power in 1964. Exile from his country. Environmental activist. Goodwill Ambassador to the UN. Politician. Grammy award winner. Minster of Culture. Drug reform advocate. Inveterate pot smoker.
And a hell of a musician.
I first became aware of Gilberto Gil when David Byrne (lead singer of Talking Heads) produced two albums of Brazilian music in the late 80s. Gil was prominently featured, and I promptly fell in love with the muscularity of his playing, his energy, and his great melodic sensibility. Didn't know what the hell he was singing about, but that hardly mattered to me. In fact, it's almost more fun not to know; I can focus on the slippery aesthetic appeal of the vocal sounds themselves without associating them with the blunt literalness of meaning. But for those of you more inclined to the poetic side of song, "Expresso 2222" is basically a Christian message about the ephemeral nature of Christ's presence; that Christ appears to us not in concrete ways but that if we look hard enough we can see him in everything.* Regardless, few songs get my toes tapping faster than this little gem.
And I really really really dig his guitar playing: precise, sensitive, muscular. A good combination.
* This song was written when Gil was a Christian. Obviously. He is now agnostic.
I have about 293,000 records collecting dust in my basement.* Like, vinyl. The type that spin on turntables, not to scratch out DJ riffs either. They represent many years, and several thousand dollars, of purchases prior to the popularization of the CD. And while vinyl has become somewhat in vogue recently, the price of a decent turntable, amplifier, and speakers remains prohibitive, at least for me.
Until I bought a USB turntable. Now I can make digital copies of my favorite albums. How cool is that?! It's a labor of love, to be sure, horribly time consuming, but by any measure worth the effort.
The very first record I burned was Love's debut, eponymously titled, LP. And the very first song that I burned was track 1, side 1, of that album, "My Little Red Book". The record was recorded in 1967 and is highly representative of the west coast psychedelic rock scene. Cool guitar riffs, kinda spooky verses, melodic and highly singable choruses.
In the course of researching this blog post I learned that this song was written by the kings of light 60s pop, Hal David and Burt Bacharach, and then sold to the band. Crazy.
Zach Hill and Carson McWhirter
Album: Face Tat (?)
Song: TBA
Zach Hill, of Hella fame, is a drummer with few peers. He's known mostly for his riveting noise rock cacophony but he's capable of more subtle playing, as in his work with Marnie Sterne. He has released over 20 albums over the years, usually as side projects or collaborations with other noise rock icons. It is believed, however, that this song is from his second solo album, Face Tat. Awesome title, hey? The album is due out sometime this year. And if this song is indicative of the general quality of the album, it will likely feature on my "Best Of" lists for 2010.
Carson McWhirter, a card carrying member of the beard-erati, played in Hella for three years but like Hill has collaborated with literally dozens of others over the course of his career. And far removed from his noise rock work, he also writes beautiful, delicate music for solo guitar. Teamed up with Hill they create something greater than the sum of their individual contributions. Enjoy.
EDIT: I've listened to the tune many times now, so I've had a chance to pay closer attention to the musical content. This is truly inspiring stuff. If you are so inclined I recommend playing the song at relatively low volumes so that you can focus on McWhirter's work on guitar. It's stunning. From a musical standpoint he's a match for Hill (which is saying a lot). He plays with excellent technique and seems, to my relatively untrained ear and eye, to be stretching the musical threshold of the guitar. Imagine Lightning Bolt with a true innovator on guitar as well as drums. That's McWhirter Hill. Awesome.
EDIT 2: Okay okay okay now I'm on to something! This isn't the future of rock music. This is the future of jazz! It has so much in common with Ornette Coleman-style free jazz, I can't believe I didn't notice it before. This is the way to approach the music, or the music of Lightning Bolt, or the music of The Locust, or the music of Rolo Tomassi, or the music of Zu, or the music of...well you get the idea. You've gotta forget about rock lineage here and focus instead on the rhythmic and metrical complexity, the unusual melodic patterns, the constantly morphing textures. It's jazz baby. It's jazz.
Lissie
Album: Why You Runnin'
Song: Pursuit Of Happiness
More than any other obscure musician I've covered, I'm absolutely sure that Lissie will find huge mainstream success. Right now she's an up-and-coming local quasi-celebrity. Tomorrow she'll be our queen.
Imagine Sheryl Crow's DNA fused with Jesca Hoop's.* Or Marnie Sterne with pop/alt-country pretensions. [Perfect looks, big voice, charismatic stage presence] + [a hint of subversive spookiness, good musicianship] = Rock goddess awesomeness. I think I'm in love. So much so, in fact, that her out-of-tune guitar doesn't bother me. Too much.
Incidentally, "Pursuit of Happiness" is not her song; it's a Kid Cudi cover. (Goddam I love alliteration.) Lissie blows Kid out of the water, but we've gotta give the Kid props for writing a damn good song, a bit of a rarity in the commercial hip-hop/R&B scene.
* Look for a blog on the loverly Ms. Hoop in the near future.
There's a shitload of excellent garage rockers out there right now, paying homage not only to the 60s icons but also to the 80s revivalists. I've already touched on the populist side of the movement with Cage the Elephant; Ty Segall resides on the opposite -- and by any account more faithful -- end of the garage punk spectrum: he's lo-fi and proud of it.
Ty Segall began his music career as a one man band. Seriously. Like, he'd play the high-hat with his fist and kind of whack the guitar strings whenever possible during the verses, then switch to guitar with hi-hat foot pedal keeping the beat during the choruses. It's way more successful than I've just made it sound. Take a gander at this. Pretty cool, huh? His arrangements kept getting more and more ambitious, however, and soon he was forced to branch out with a three-piece band. They kick major fucking ass live, and in the best garage rock tradition steal from just about everyone (five rock god points to whoever spots the Pearl Jam reference):
Songs like this make me unaccountably happy. Not a hint of virtuosity anywhere. Guitar, bass, and drums lines so easy a novice could play them. Hell even I could play them. But there's something about this sort of straight ahead and strictly for the love of it rock'n'roll that gets my heart pumping. The energy is infectious. Go Ty, go.
Randy Newman
Album: Sail Away
Song 1: Sail Away
Song 2: God's Song
Randy Newman belongs on my short list of great songwriters, although over the last couple of decades or so he has rarely received the respect he deserves in this regard. Unfortunately, he has inherited a reputation, albeit not an entirely unfair one, for being "that movie guy." He has been nominated for the "Best Song" or "Best Score" Oscars 17 times, winning once. Interestingly, he had the longest streak of nominations without a win in Oscar history until his 2002 win for a song from Monsters, Inc. Some of his most recognizable songs are "You've Got A Friend In Me" from Toy Story and the gorgeous "When She Loved Me" from Toy Story 2. Back in the day, however, he was much more than just a composer of film scores. Back in the day, he was considered a great artist with a particularly incisive understanding of the human condition.
Two of my favorite Newman songs are "Sail Away" and "God's Song," both of which are from his brilliant 1972 album, Sail Away. Perspective plays an important role in both of them. In the first, Newman tells the story of a slave trader...from the perspective of the slave trader. And if that isn't a cool enough conceit, the slave trader in the song is a type of salesman, attempting to pitch the merits of being a slave to prospective slaves. Funny, tragic, sarcastic, ironic, it's one of the best songs I know.
"God's Song" is also from an interesting perspective. Namely, God's. In it, God mocks humankind for the ridiculousness of its faith in him. Lovely little ironic twist. Newman at his best.
I was gonna blog about something light and frivolous, but I happened to stumble across a stunning live performance of "Harper Lewis" by Russian Circles, a band I have often admired for its virtuosity and relatively unconventional style. Their sound runs the gamut from intricate and delicate to heavy and muscular. Comparisons might be made with Tool, and indeed Russian Circles toured with the band in 2007.
The live track is intense but the bass is very low in the mix and the sound quality deteriorates about a third of the way through due to distortion. I really dig the drum sound -- the "unsnared" snare in particular -- which provides surprising depth to the tonal palette. Still, the studio version is excellent too.
Charles Ives
Album: Charles Ives
Song: The Unanswered Question
You live on a peaceful Greek island. You are retired. You spend your days gardening, reading the paper, perhaps going for coffee with friends. In the evening, your only desire is to sit and listen to the radio. Your neighbor, however, a young woman with a taste for loud music, plays her CDs at full volume every evening, without exception. You ask her nicely to turn down her stereo, but she is unswayed. You complain; she ignores you. You request police intervention, but they claim that her behavior is completely legal. The noise continues; if anything worsens. Driven to sheer mindless rage by this constant barrage on your senses, you pick up your shotgun, knock on her door, and when she answers fire three shots into her chest, killing her instantly.
Being both the father of two energetic boys and a band teacher, I can attest to the fact that an hour or two of relative silence goes a long way in keeping me sane. "The Unanswered Question," by the great American composer Charles Ives, expresses the stillness that in my opinion lies at the heart of all things.
In terms of musical content, the trumpet repeatedly poses the "question" throughout the piece, while the flute quartet attempts to answer the question, increasingly stridently, and in vain. Meanwhile, the strings express a type of formless timelessness. A gorgeous piece of music.
EDIT: Inasmuch as I wrote this late last night as I was falling asleep, a few words of clarification are necessary. The "Greek Island Guy" story is true. A man literally driven insane by noise. I happened upon this story in my current reading: George Michelsen Foy, The Quest For Absolute Silence. Interesting book. Also, it was not my intention to devote much, if any, time to classical music in this blog, but it's easier to write about what I happen to be listening to, rather than listen to something that I happen to want to write about.
I slagged the Melvins recently, suggesting that their best days are behind them. Sleep is the band the Melvins aspire to be. In vain. Natch.
Damn I dig that opening riff. Makes me want to pick up my bass and jam along with the band. And the tune is just sooooo fucking heavy. As heavy as Sabbath. Hell, if Sleep had Ozzy on vocals they might have ruled the 90s' music scene. But more than just being heavy, there is a surprising suppleness to it all. It's...what...groovy?
Sleep's sound has been crazy influential amongst the stoner rock set. In fact, many of the best recent stoner rock bands -- Weedeater, Atomic Bitchwax, Alabama Thunderpussy, Kyuss, QOTSA, Acid King -- cite Sleep as an important influence.
Oh yeah. One last thing. I've been told by reliable sources that "Dragonaut" is the perfect tune to mellow out to. Just sayin'.
Daniel Johnston
Album: 1990
Song: Don't Play Cards With Satan
Can you imagine what it's like to live with severe bipolar disorder?
It's estimated that upwards of 20% of Canadians will suffer from a mood disorder of one type or another at some point in their lives, and that 7% of Canadians will suffer from bipolar disorder in particular. Bipolar takes many forms. Type 1, by far the most common, is characterized by vast, debilitating mood swing cycles. Type 2, which occurs in only 1 out of 20 bipolar cases, is far more serious, and often features delusions of grandeur, hallucinations, and worse. The people that you might have read about, walking down the center of a busy highway claiming to be Jesus incarnate -- these are your Type 2 bipolar sufferers. Daniel Johnston is Type 2 bipolar.
This preamble is meant to provide you with a way of engaging Johnston's music, which, as far as acquired tastes go, is right at the bitterest end. Somewhere between black coffee and chewing on lime rinds. But if you manage to get past the sheer child-like weirdness of his songs, there is something quite wonderful in his ability to connect emotionally with his subject and with the listener.
This has become a running theme, hasn't it?
I purchased one of Johnston's CDs a few years ago. Listened to it once. Put it away. Didn't think much about it, at least musically. Idiosyncratic but almost unlistenably amateurish. Became re-invigorated by Johnston the man when I happened to watch the excellent documentary based on his life, The Devil And Daniel Johnston. A fascinating tale. On and off his meds, in and out of mental hospitals, slowly becoming something of a cult icon in the alternative musical world, and finally emerging relatively healthy on the other side.
There is something of the savant in Johnston, and what appeals to me most of all is this juxtaposition of childlike innocencewith a nagging sense that he has tapped into something quite profound.
By the way, do me a favor and don't turn off the following video after the first minute. Take the time to listen to the entire song.
Refused
Album: The Shape Of Punk To Come
Song: Refused Are Fucking Dead
So I'm sitting here listening to last.fm and playing WoW with Tyler and Kris. Determined to write about the next tune that hits the speaker. Dave Brubeck, "Take Five". Excellent. But I've done so much jazz and soul recently. Okay, next song. Still waiting. Electric fan blowing, in Tyler's terms, our "man scent" into the bright summer afternoon. Kris nom-noming the Nibs like a starving man attacking a steak. The great thing about "Take Five" apart from the obvious cool melody and 2+2+2+3 rhythm, is the little musical journey on which Bruback takes his listener. Classical here, bebop there, big band all over, all cool. Hmmmm. New song. Refused, "Refused Are Fucking Dead". Okie-doke.
Immediate impressions of the song: System of a Down-esque rhythmic guitar hooks. Bass not quite as present. Not as defined, musically, as System of a Down. Main guitar hook is uninspired. Bridge boring as hell. Bass boring as hell. Octave guitar and bass near end meant to provide sense of growth? Not good. Production a bit heavy handed. Random electronic blurps a sad attempt at hipster cool. Or a sad attempt to be creative? Bombastic end section. Typical growled mock-yelled vocals. Yech.
Okay so that sucked. But if you want to listen to it, here it is:
I dunno if that tune is typical for Refused, which was a big part of the 90s hardcore/punk scene, but if so then perhaps the band just ain't all that interesting. At least musically. Having done a little online reading, however, I can tell you that they certainly had interesting ideas. Their final message to their fans, to the press, and to the corporate musical establishment can be read here. Did you know that Refused wasn't really a band, but rather an attempt to destroy mainstream music altogether? Yeah, me neither. Their manifesto reads to me like the worst sort of high-minded but tragically middle-brow nonsense: on the one hand begging for philosophical legitimacy (Baudrillard my ass) while on the other hand claiming to speak on behalf of the oppressed. If that ain't the bourgeois calling the bourgeois bourgeois, I don't know what is.
Having said that, and having forced myself to read Refused's manifesto for a second time, it must be noted that their motives are good. I mean, most of us go through a period of philosophical introspection in which we believe that we have seen deeper into the reality of existence than any other sentient being. Ever. In the immortal words of Vizzini from The Princess Bride: "Ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates? Morons." So I guess I should cut them some slack.
Nina Simone
Album: Anthology -- The Colpix Years
Song: When I Was A Young Girl
Feist
Album: Let It Die
Song: When I Was A Young Girl
Nina Simone is one of the most expressive artists I know. I've spoken about my admiration for Fiona Apple, for her willingness to be fragile, to leave herself emotionally bare in performance. Nina Simone has been there and back again repeatedly. (Incidentally, I've done more than my fair share of performing over the years and I can attest to how brave and special artists like these are.)
Simone trained to be a classical musician, but when those plans went awry she started singing the blues and interpreting jazz and pop standards. Gradually she increased her fan base, and by the 60s and early 70s she was featured at some of the world's biggest jazz and blues festivals. She was known in particular for her captivating performances; exuberant one moment, emotionally ragged the next. Only after her death in 2003 did the truth come out, that she had been diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder relatively early in her life, and it was a cross she bore throughout her career.
Some of my favorite YouTube moments are of her performances.
And if you really want to hear and see raw-nerved emotion on stage, check out her version of "Feelings". In the hands of a lesser artist it would seem maudlin, perhaps even anti-musical. But Simone's interpretation is electrifying, so in touch with the song's message that even seemingly given musical characteristics like intonation and timbre are subservient. She's unafraid to sing off-key or to utter a hoarse, raspy whisper in place of a melodic line so long as it serves the needs of the song. This is what it means to be a true musician. If you read this blog regularly you know that I am unafraid of using superlatives; so much so, in fact, that I run the danger of making them meaningless. But I can honestly say that I am more in awe of Nina Simone than any other performer I have featured.
But I am not here to discuss either of these songs. The song that first made me fall in love with Simone is "When I Was A Young Girl". Unfortunately, I was unable to find a live video performance of the song, but the audio version is still sublime.
Finally, we all know Feist. She's awesome. But you may not know that she can be downright vicious as a live performer. Check out her interpretation of the song. Great stuff.
Sly And The Family Stone
Album: Woodstock -- Music From The Original Soundtrack
Song: I Want To Take You Higher
I started to do a post on David Bowie, in particular his mid-70s hit "Fame". Cos, well, it's awesome. But as I was listening to it, as I was immersing myself in some of the best white boy funk ever written, I had a hankering for even funkier funk. Some might even say the funkiest funk.
Sly and the Family Stone are an interesting band. For example, it consisted of both black and white musicians, which was quite unusual for the late 60s. And Sylvester (Sly) Stone, the creative force and leader of the band, is a particularly fascinating guy. He is credited with being a soul and funk innovator, but he was also very interested in psychadelic rock; listen to any of the band's records and you'll notice a delightful mish-mash of styles. He oozed charisma. He was also an inveterate coke and PCP user, the abuse of which -- not only by him but also by several other band members -- contributed to Sly and the Family Stone's demise in the early 70s. Stone was known for carrying a violin case full of drugs wherever he went. Heh.
This particular video is from Sly and the Family Stone's appearance at Woodstock. They took the stage at 3:00 AM and played one of the most intense sets you'll ever see and hear. Listen to the call and response section; Sly had completely energized the sea of concert-goers. One of the greatest front men of all time.
This blog is called "A Joyful Noise." This song embodies the idea.
Thelonious Monk
Album: The Complete Blue Note Recordings
Song: Round Midnight
Thelonious Monk is my all-time favorite jazz artist. I own half a dozen of his CDs and there isn't a bad song in the bunch. He is credited with being one of the founders of bebop, but his style cannot easily be categorized -- his later recordings are vastly dissimilar to his earlier efforts.
He was also a crazy cat, even as jazz musicians go, known as much for his idiosyncratic behavior as for his compositions. At times, Monk would get up from the piano while others were playing and dance in funky little circles. His fashion sense was also much different from his peers, often including distinctive hats, sunglasses, and suits.
According to Wikipedia, "Round Midnight" is the most recorded jazz standard of all time. Written in 1944, it has been covered by artists as diverse as Dizzy Gallespie, Miles Davis, and Ella Fitzgerald. The melodic line
is one of the most famous in the genre, and features the angularity for which Monk was famous. Our recording of the day is also entirely characteristic -- Monk's improvisational style is highly percussive and dramatic, with long pauses and abrupt stops and entrances, and his harmonic pallette is rich with chromaticism and dissonance. He doesn't have the technique of an Ellington or a Tatum, but his playing is so musical and idiosyncratic that I never get tired of it.
Some people have vivid memories about where they were and what they were doing when they first heard that John Lennon had been murdered. Others respond similarly to JFK's assassination or Elvis' death or the 9/11 bombings. For me, it's Kurt Cobain's suicide.
I haven't posted any so-called "grunge" music yet, perhaps because as a genre it is still very well known and highly publicized via commercial radio, and my mission with this blog is to explore relatively unknown music. But tonight just seems like a grunge night, and it's what I'm listening to as I write this, so what the heck. However, instead of focusing on the two biggest grunge bands -- Nirvana and Pearl Jam -- I'm going to feature Soundgarden who, apart from being more adept musically than most of its peers, also wrote one of the most wicked hard rock songs ever, "Spoonman".
"Spoonman" is an homage to a formerly homeless man who played the spoons for spare change in downtown Seatlle. (He is no longer homeless because of the royalties he receives for the song!) This dude, whose playing is featured on the track, is one amazing rhythmic musician: cross rhythms, radical syncopations, free time signatures. Great stuff. And it's perhaps fitting, therefore, that Soundgarden's song is also metrically and rhythmically adventurous: the verses are in a highly syncopated 7/4 while the choruses are in 4/4, and it's the absence of the expected "final" beat in the verses that lends the song so much of its appeal.
By the way, I've had a special request for an old school jazz post, and I must admit that I look forward to featuring something a little lighter and cleaner than my recent offerings. So, tomorrow I hit it up. Don't miss it.
p.s. In this space I previously posted some HTML experiments. Many thanks to Kris for providing excellent feedback and good advice. You rock, sunshine.
Gil-Scott Heron
Album: I'm New Here
Song: I'm New Here
What more can be said about Gil-Scott Heron that hasn't been said already? The guy has been credited with kick-starting the hip-hop movement with his seminal, "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" and he's made one good record after another ever since; this, despite horrendous personal setbacks. He has been in and out of prison over the last decade on possession charges. Others have been highly critical of the decision to convict him, partly due to the small quantity of illegal substance, and partly due to the fact that he was 61 years old when sentenced.*
In the years following his early forays into hip-hop he has been critical of much modern attempts at the genre, at one point saying
They need to study music. I played in several bands before I began my career as a poet. There’s a big difference between putting words over some music, and blending those same words into the music. There’s not a lot of humor. They use a lot of slang and colloquialisms, and you don’t really see inside the person. Instead, you just get a lot of posturing.
That's about right. So much hip-hop falls into precisely that trap, which is why guys like MF DOOM, Mos Def and others are so precious: they are musicians who rap as opposed to rappers who (try to) make music.
Anyway. Back to the good stuff. His latest album, his first new studio album since the mid 90s, is killer. The old man has aged pretty damn well. Love the smoky delivery and the introspective lyrics. This isn't the record of a revolutionary -- not any more -- but it is the record of a lifetime of experience. The epitome of cool.
*Brief political aside, for which I apologize in advance. The US is fucked up. Locking up a 61 year old guy for having a party? Jesus. Well, at least it's comforting to know that Canada's heading down the same road with Rev Harper et al in power. Christ.
Lightning Bolt wouldn't exist without them. 'Nuff said.
Perhaps the greatest band of the American underground noise rock scene in the early 90s, and led by the inimitable Dave Yow, The Jesus Lizard spent a hell of a lot of time on my turntable back in the day. Goat, produced by Steve Albini of Big Black* fame, is considered their best record and it features on many "Best Of" lists from the decade.
And how many hard rock tunes do you know of that spin in 6/8 time?
I like chocolate. Sweet, sticky, provides a slight buzz, all good things. Nothing but chocolate, however, and I'd soon puke my guts up. Sleigh Bells are musical chocolate.
The first time I listened to this track I was sure I was hearing the Next Big Thing in music. Superficially, it's awesome. The compressed drum sounds are appealingly edgy, and the simple barre chords in the guitar provide pop metal heft. And then there're the vocals. Light as air, sugary and sweet, the meringue after a heavy meal.
The second time I listened to this track I was not at all sure that I was hearing the Next Big Thing in music. Superficially it was still awesome...but something didn't seem quite right. Couldn't put my finger on it, but it was all starting to seem a bit treacly.
The third time I listened to this track I was sure than I wasn't hearing the Next Big Thing in music. Superficially, it was as awesome as ever. But dig even slightly deeper and it soon becomes obvious that this is a silly pop song and nothing more. Its only true appeal is the synthesized drum sounds. Which are, to be sure, fantabulistic. The guitar line is boring as hell, however, and the entire song is just so square. Square time signatures, square melodic lines, square structures, square square square. Blech.
Now don't get me wrong. "Square" isn't necessarily a bad thing. Some genres lend themselves to squareness. Country. Folk. Blues. But this is the music of the average person, and we need to hear the voice of the average person to make it appealing. Lyrics become more meaningful, story-telling and yarn-spinning become assets. In an electronic genre, however, squareness is death. Electronic music offers possibilities no other genre affords, and in my opinion the skill of the electronic musician is in his ability to explore these possibilities. Sleigh Bells, electronica's Rhianna, just don't measure up.
But next road trip I'm definitely putting this tune on my mix CD. A little chocolate always goes down sweet.
Dunno about this one, boys and girls. I've been a fan of the Melvins since way back in the day, but I must admit that I've found them less and less interesting as the years have passed. Their main attribute has always been their heavier-than-death grooves, but today so many bands do heavier-than-death better than the Melvins. I mean, the whole jagged syncopated guitar thing is getting a bit old, at least compared to bands who take risks in this regard, like Lightning Bolt. They get huge props for being progenitors of the whole stoner rock genre...but I don't know if they're musically relevant any more.
The Melvins just released a new album. In some ways it seems much like previous efforts: square, slow, sludgy riffs over rock-steady percussion. They do it well. Yawn. But there is something different going on here. Listen to our song of the day:
I'm not quite sure what to think. The opening riff is damn good, but the drumline meets military cadence section? It's a nice idea, but it goes on forfuckingever. I kept waiting for the riff to return, giving the song some balance, not to mention compositional symmetry. Nope. No return. Just more and more and more of the military shtick.
I haven't let the song percolate in the ol' musical teapot for very long, but my first impression is not great. What do y'all think?
Elvis Costello (performed by Fiona Apple)
Album: Blood And Chocolate
Song: I Want You
Would Stephen Harper be Prime Minister if his name was Egbert Hump? Would Bono be Bono if his name was Kevin Berkowicz? Would Elvis Costello be one of the coolest cats in music if his name was Declan McManus?
I doubt it. Maybe the Kabalarians had it right all along.
"I Want You" is darkly bitter. It starts out as a typical love ballad, a paean to a significant other, when all of a sudden BAM! it morphs into the tortured mutterings of a spurned man. The titular refrain is repeated over and over and over again, in almost the same way, claustrophobic and obsessive.
Elvis Costello's performance on Blood and Chocolate is very good, but I must admit I find the song slightly boring due to its repetitiveness -- it works as a piece of art but it isn't really enjoyable. But as I was surfing YouTube recently I came across the "Joyful Noise" rendition and was absolutely blown away. Fiona Apple is pretentious as fuck, but she's also willing to be emotionally naked on stage. The intensity of her performance elevates this good song into a different league altogether.
And by the way, henceforth I will respond only to the name Draken.
The Kinks
Album: Kinda Kinks
Song: Everybody's Gonna Be Happy
Any song with hand claps is thirty percent better than it otherwise would have been. It's a songwriting given. Combine hand claps with crazy rhythm guitar and Ray Davies on vocals and you've got a winner.
The Kinks are one of those bands that never quite got the respect they deserved. One of the groups in the original "British invasion," they achieved some measure of commercial success, and 20 years later launched a moderately successful comeback, but today, as one of the many bands lost in the The Beatles' legacy, their influence has waned.
They are perhaps best known for their gender-bending classic, "Lola", and for the garage rock anthems, "You Really Got Me" and "All Day And All Of The Night", absolutely excellent songs all. And they all point to one of the main reasons I like the band so much: The Kinks are delightfully sloppy. It's all very rock'n'roll, the antithesis of the sanitized, produced-to-within-an-inch-of-its-creative-life cow fodder that dominates the airwaves. Usually, it's considered an asset to be a "tight" ensemble; that is, a group in which the rhythmic element in particular is spot on. But there's something about the "looseness" of bands like The Kinks that I find very appealing. There's a type of musical energy which emerges, seemingly from the tension inherent in the possibility of the entire song degenerating into arhythmic chaos.
I chose our song of the day because it's one of the most irrepressibly upbeat songs ever written; with today's reprise of the seemingly never ending drizzle it's the perfect time for pure goofy happiness.
And, of course, I chose it for the hand claps. Natch.
Scott Bondy, lead singer of the glam rock outfit, Verbena, in 1997:
Pretty typical of the genre. Nothing too spectacular. A nice little groove but Stone Temple Pilots did it better, and did it earlier. And the faux rock star moves -- kicking over the mic stand etc -- are ridiculous, even if they are meant to be ironic. Or post-ironic. Or something.
A.A. Bondy, solo artist, singer-songwriter, 2007:
Remarkable what a decade'll do to a guy.
Now this music, I like. Tasty little guitar licks, a world weary voice, and a wink and a nod to the addict in all of us. What more do ya need? Incidentally, the tune is fucking awkward to play. I spent the better part of two days trying to learn the guitar line and failed huge. Just couldn't force my fingers to mimic the correct finger picking patterns and still scrape out the melodic line.
Doesn't help, I suppose, that I suck royally at guitar. In fact, if I had one wish right now* it might very well be to have learned the guitar (and good technique) at a young age. I love the instrument, but I hack my way across it like a blind yak.
*If I had two wishes right now, the first would be for the guitar learning, and the second would be for all the children of the world to get together and to sing as one in the spirit of harmony and peace. Bless you, Steve Martin.
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