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.
