Sunday, December 29, 2013

From Ear to Ear!

Still wandering around the internets, I stumbled upon Nils Lofgren’s old band, Grin.  I’d mostly heard Nils  on Neil Young albums, as part of Crazy Horse, with Bruce Springsteen and as a solo artist.
But never his earliest - and some would say best - period. It turns out that some are right.


This is pre-solo, pre-Bruce, sort of pre-Neil, back when he could backflip without the trampoline.
And as much as I enjoyed his first solo record, and his contributions to other artists, this record manages to be a revelation. Nils has a sweet voice, plays a razorsharp guitar and - writes some great, melodic songs.  And rockers, too!

You might find the first listen questionable. The first song, especially, where Nils’ brother Tom, sounding a hundred years old, accompanied by a country western piano, kicks off  “Everybody’s Missing the Sun” . But don’t worry, just when you think you’ve bought the wrong album, Nils jumps in, singing the melody he’s been holding back just for that moment, and a wave of warmth washes over you!  
I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t know how good a songwriter Nils was.  Even the Jaybee-Brother-annoying 1975 solo record wasn’t as good as this softer and sweeter side.  The guitar’s as good as ever, too. A
When to Play It: Any old time.
When NOT to Play It: Around young people.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

I Think I Killed Lou Reed:

When I’m not out there trying to bring the entire musical canon into my house, I can be found wandering off into the nether corners of the musical landscape. For some odd reason, I decided it was time to check out what the hell John Cale had been doing since the Velvets, aside from producing some great bands and playing on other people’s records.

Now why would I do this except to piss off (a not dead yet) Lou Reed? Cale and Reed never really got along. Reed kicked Cale out of the Velvet Underground, and made sure no one had any fun during the reunion tour in the 90s.

I was having a lousy summer and was in one of my very frequent judgemental moods. And who better to go after than heroes who disappoint? Like Gore Vidal, who wrote eloquently about politics and history, but whose will left nothing to his longtime housekeeper, and John Lennon, who sang about peace and love, but treated his women like garbage. I’m not sure if this information was in the ether at the time, or I was just stumbling upon it. In any case, I was loaded for bear.

So if you’re thinking of people who create beauty but who do ugly things, who’s a bigger bear than Lou Reed? I might have been looking for a good Velvet Underground video to post to Facebook, when I came across a video or Reed acting out on some poor interviewer. Well, he wasn’t really that awful on it.  But the the bad behavior stories are legion. So, what could little old me do to stick it to mean old Reed? Why, buy a John Cale record, of course.

So I began wandering around the internets for a “popular” John Cale record. Well, there’s no such thing. So I got this one:  



Cale brought the non-guitar noise to VU - playing bass and violin, and doing his best to make them sound like ballistic missiles.

His post VU career is probably more varied than Lou Reed’s.  This 2 CD set combines Cale’s three albums for Island records (Fear, Slow Dazzle and Helen of Troy) a few years after VU broke up. During this period, he keeps things pretty conventional, saving the lunacy for some occasional screaming, but otherwise letting others like Eno to do the dirty work for him

Of the three albums gathered here, Fear is the strongest. The moods are varied and the band is tight. The songwriting is pretty good, and the vocals are...well.
Slow Dazzle and Helen of Troy don’t seem to have as strong an identity but of course that can be due to being stuck behind Fear in the playing order. And the more I play this thing, the more I like them. But it turns out that my favorite cuts are the previously unreleased ones and the B Sides. And the ballads!

As good as this set is, it’s hard to love Cale, and just as hard to hate him. Not so with Reed of course, who provoked extreme reactions with practically every album he made.  And he made a lot. Probably more than Cale sold. But given how they felt about each other, every Cale record sold was probably a nail in Reed’s coffin.

Well, I got this record, and it must have been the one to put him over the limit. Within a month, Reed was dead. So I confess, I probably did it. But as Mrs. Jaybee says, I suffer from delusions of grandeur.

B+

When to Play It: When you’re in the mood to explore.
When NOT to Play It: When you want to have fun.

“Sylvia Said”

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Let's Party, or the Terrorists Win

This might be as close as I ever get to a philosophic thought about music.  Don’t worry, it dissipates pretty quickly.



This record is so over the top it’s funny. It’s fast and loud - the lyrics are usually shouted. And melodies? I wouldn’t know. I haven’t noticed any yet. There’s even some organ to add extra bombast. (Because there wasn’t enough already?)

The theme is PARTY! (Three of the songs have the word in their titles.)  There are love songs, too.  (Okay, maybe not “Take it Off”.)  

One of them to New York, titled, oddly enough, “I Love NYC”, which at first I thought was just a typical “hurray for fill-in-the-city” song. But then I noticed the album’s release date - November 13, 2001, and that some of the album was recorded in New York.

So it hit me. Andrew W.K. is that guy from high school who is big enough to kick your ass, and because he’s a simple guy and you’re a nerd, has every reason to want to kick your ass, but doesn’t.  Instead, he’s actually friendly to you! And like God (I’m told), he likes you and wants you to have a good time.

And after 9/11, he decided that what this country needs is a good party. You know, to show the world what we do best. Party our asses off! And who knows? Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten around to that war. Sorry, wars. Although that’s mine - and possibly not Andrew’s - thinking.

And while I’m a few decades too old to really appreciate it, I admire the sentiment. It seems so singled-minded in its advocacy of said partying, that I suspect it’s all a con.  Which makes it more fun. Otherwise I look ridiculous playing it.

This is such a good hearted record I feel like I owe it a higher grade. But I’m too much of a miserable bastard to play it a lot. If the situation were reversed, Andrew’s such a sweetheart, he’d mark me on a curve. B

When to Play It: When you’ve had too much coffee and, for some reason, love the world.
When NOT To Play It: Late at night when everybody’s trying to sleep. Wakes (maybe the day after, though)

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Jaybee Wouldn't Know a Good Fill-in-the-Blank If...

Wasn’t it Frank Zappa who said that Americans wouldn’t know good rock n’ roll if it bit them on the ass? It’s a shame he didn’t test this thesis by actually making any.

Easy now! I didn’t say Frank wasn’t the greatest artist of all time. He clearly was, but blah, blah blah…

Okay now that I’ve distracted the Zappa fans let’s admit that the guy never played rock and roll in his life, and, well, good for him, and for us, because it probably would have been even worse than what he did produce.  (Sorry Petey!)

Okay, not fair. But possibly accurate. I base this judgment on five of his 5,000 or so albums. But then again, I’m still bitter over having bought Waka/Jawaka thinking it was Hot Rats, due to the misleading-to-idiots cover art (note the faucets):


 
But I’m just one of those heathen less interested in influences and sophistication than the end result, and, well, fun.  And let’s face it, unless you’re into Frank’s potty humor he’s no fun at all.  

But why am I ragging on Frank, who, sadly, died, prior to 9/11 (lucky him)? What I’m really interested in is the not-recognizing-something-if-it-bit-you-on-the-ass phenomenon. I was having trouble with the concept since I’m not sure why a bite on the ass would somehow help me see or hear better.

But I may have finally gotten it. And It, came in the form of Synth-Pop (Duran Duran, Soft Cell, etc.) - or rather the complete absence of it - which only dawned on me after listening to this record about TWENTY times:


Colossal Youth - Young Marble Giants

This is what happens when you get older. You not only forget things. Without realizing it, you begin to splice together things that aren’t supposed to go together at all. Like recalling the Ten Commandments but somehow missing all the “Nots”.  (By the way, do you notice how I say “you” when I mean me?  I do that a lot. Usually when I’m pondering one of my very few shortcomings.  I only use “me” instead of “you”  when erroneously attributing lovemaking skills.  Somehow people see through this, but I resolve to carry on nonetheless.)

So immediately below are my original notes about Young Marble Giants by Colossal Youth (or is it Colossal Youth by Young Marble... oh, nevermind), followed by the eventual recognition of my own stupidity. And I’m talking sh*t about poor Frank?

Come to think of it, I don’t think I like any artist named Frank. Yep. I just did a search of “Frank” on allmusic.com and I can state that I don’t like any of them.  Over a lifetime I’ve come to tolerate Sinatra and even like a lot of his songs, but it’s been a long road. I don’t think I have enough time left for Zappa, especially if I approach all those Franks alphabetically.

Anyway, here goes:

“Bare bones synth “pop”, and at first, antiseptic to a fault. One thing I always hated about 1980s synth-pop was how it had no balls. CY has somewhat of an excuse in that the lead singer (whisperer, really) is female.

I catch myself here and can now report that there isn’t a  single synthesizer on this whole (25 song) album!

Now why did I think there was?  It goes back to an article by Stephin Merritt, where he lists his year-by-year favorite records of the 20th Century. I somehow confused it with another article where Merritt states that the Human League’s Dare is a synth pop classic. And I go and splice these two separate thoughts together.

Or at least that’s my theory.  And really, why should my theory be considered any more reliable than what I now happen to think was a mistake?  I’m far too lazy to go checking into this stuff. For all I know Stephin Merritt said exactly what I originally thought he said, and this whole thing is his fault.

Anyway back to the only part of my notes that remain somewhat valid:

“Amidst the usually whispered or mumbled vocals, a bass eventually emerges, and every once in a while a guitar. Sometimes a keyboard (but never in the same song as the guitar.)  It’s kind of like Pylon but on Prozac instead of Welbutrin. I guess I have to give it another chance.”

And it got a lot of chances, since it was eminently playable in a number of different contexts (work, early morning, late night, dinner) without  irritating anyone. (Which is normally my definition of bad music, but whatever).

Which is what I required to finally realize the most obvious aspect of this non-synth-pop record. It’s also a non-drums album! All rhythm is handled by said guitar/bass/keyboard.

So it grows on you. And while some might prefer something less spare, I think it’s quite nice. Peaceful even.  B+

When to Play It: Night. Dinner, or when you don’t want to wake anyone.
When to NOT Play It: A party (unless everyone has just taken heroin.)

And it just goes to show that some records - maybe even some by Frank Zappa - require a non-idiot listener to figure out the most obvious things.

"Young Marble Giants"

Sunday, December 1, 2013

And So You Shall, You Old Fashioned Boy!


This is probably the best Go Betweens album, unless you count 1978-1990 (or my personal Fave Oceans Apart), but I’d better get the rest of them to be sure. Robert Forster’s contributions are even stronger than usual - the strong guitar/bass/drum attack more than offsetting his slightly askew vocals.
 
And just as usual, Grant McLennan goes pretty, and hits a couple of home runs - “Bye Bye Pride” actually being a grand slam. It’s a nice balance of melodicism and a strong rock bottom. The added female voice and instrumentation don’t hurt a bit, either. If the overall effect on me is less than overpowering it’s simply because I’d already been exposed to the best of these songs via 1978-90 already.
 
You should find it just dandy. A-
 
When to Play It: Late Morning, Early Evening
When to NOT Play It: When you want to slit your wrists. It’s just too... civilized for that.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Why So SERIOUS???

The following post makes a number of statements I couldn’t be bothered verifying (Feel free to look it up. You can use that Internets thingy.) plus some gratuitous tangents.




Well it was about time I got something by these guys.  Lately I’ve been getting stuff by bands just before they move from hipster level to a wider degree of acceptance.  So get ready for the National to go, well, national.

Just one issue, though. The music.

The singer has a deep voice and tends toward a monotonous almost-mumble a la early Michael Stipe (ah but REM played faster, and played guitars), so he sounds a bit too serious, even when he’s trying to be funny. And the lyrics are a little too serious, too. So they come across kind of adolescent in their concerns and level of self absorption/pity, thus risking derision from us older folks who just don’t have the time anymore. And yet they’ve been around for a while, and must be pushing thirty.

There aren’t many melodies per se. There are portentous chord changes and organ/synth swells than can occasionally get you all choked up.  But it’s all too samey samey, and I’m not tasting, as Lydia would say, the complex flavors yet. It needs more sauce. And guitars.

So no matter how many more times I listen, it only achieves a certain level of intensity before leveling off. Which makes me want to clunk their heads together a la Moe Howard, and tell them to just cheer up.

On a side note, these guys remind me of Interpol, who my son beat me to earlier this year. I was on the verge of making fun of them until I heard the National.

You didn’t ask but Interpol, in turn, reminds me of Joy Division. This has been pointed out to them, and I  understand the comparison pisses them off. But as xgau said, they should have taken it as a compliment. At least you knew Ian Curtis meant business - hanging himself at age 20(?).  

Interpol, however, wear ties and tend to, like the National (remember the National? This is a post about the National.) go on and on about their misery. But slightly watered down Joy Division still sounds pretty great, so I only complain about it towards the end of Turn Off the Bright Lights, where they begin to sound like A Flock of Seagulls off their meds.

I have a dream (more like a passing fancy, really) that they all get together to form a supergroup: Joy Division for their sincere misery ("Transmission"), A Flock of Seagulls for the melody ("Transfer Affection"), Interpol for the guitars ("New York Cares") and the National for the dramatic swells ("England"). This band would make an album that would be nice and depressing but wouldn’t make me giggle, except in all the right places.

But the National on their own lonesome? B-

At least that’s what I thought after listening only on an iPad. But then I play it on my desktop and it comes alive! Instead of sludge, I now hear crucial detail. Instead of mumbling, I now hear nuance and emotion. And drums! Bravo. B+

When to Play It: Morning, but only if you’re wide awake.  (Oh, and “England” works great before a 5k run.)
When NOT to Play It: When you’re in a great mood.

2013 So Far:
1. Celebration Rock, The Japandroids
2. Lonerism, Tame Impala
3. Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Pink Floyd
4. Alien Lanes, Guided By Voices
5. Copper Blue, Sugar
6. The Creek Drank the Cradle, Iron & Wine
7. Present Tense, Shoes
8. High Violet, The National
9. Pleasures of the Harbor, Phil Ochs
10. Tongue Twister, Shoes

You notice above how Sugar is just getting no respect at all?  Is it because there’s so much of it it feels like work to put it on? Sorry Bob!

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Honey Can You Pass Me a Tissue?

Give a man an Amazon gift card and there’s no telling what he’ll do. Give him enough time to research and he’ll l dig out some real gems. And if he's me, why not an all girl punk band from Switzerland?  I’m sure that category is uppermost on your list, too.




They start out as Kleenex, but, pressured by the Runny Nose industry, change their name to Liliput. I actually got this before Shoes, back in June(?) but this took much longer to absorb. There’s just so much of it - 46 songs. Plus, Mrs. Jaybee hates it, and so I have to find the right time to put it on.

But think about it for a second. Punk. All female. 1977! That’s pretty impressive.

Over the course of two CDs worth of music, they move from minimalist punk to arty rhythm and texture. The first half takes some getting used to since they keep it REALLY simple.  The second CD is more sinuous and tuneful.
 
They are usually singing in English, although it’s sometimes hard to tell.  The accents can distract a stupid American like me from noticing how their riffs stand up to any punk this side of the Atlantic. (Speaking of this kind of stupid, I let this same tone deafness affect my reaction to the krautrock Friend Mike used to send me during his stint in Germany in the 80s. It comes from watching too many World War II movies - you develop a negative association with any German who speaks or sings with any stridency. I’m sorry, I know it’s wrong, but there it is.)

And the joke’s on me of course. I missed out on some great music. But I don’t plan to let that happen with Kleenex/Liliput, whose then-young women were smarter than I ever was or will be.  

“So when will this CD be over?” An even smarter woman - Mrs. Jaybee - asks.  Not a good sign. I can patiently explain that, in fact, it’s an mp3, but I don’t it’ll help. So I’ll just file it under “music to listen to when alone and NOT feeling suicidal”, which is an expanding genre in my house. B+

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

I Know, But They're So Comfortable!


The Shoes make generic, guitar-based pop music. On one hand, I’ve told you nothing. On the other, you kind of know what I’m talking about anyway.

Generic is another word for “not brilliant” or maybe “good enough”. (I’ll still put that less than one tenth of one percent of pop music that is brilliant up against Rememberence of Things Past any day of the week, though.) And when in a genre you’re not a fan of to begin with, it must be downright annoying. Which is why I wouldn’t have blamed my showtunes-loving daughter if she made a snide remark about it - Really dad? Yet another (two, really) “guitar based pop”album? Exactly how many do you think you'll be needing? I guess. It must have sounded astoundingly dull. And pretty damned generic. It sounded that way to me, too.

But that’s how people react when they hear a genre they’re not crazy about. I do it too.  When it’s country, I hear the predictable chord changes, the southern accent and the pedal steel guitar. When it’s hip-hop, I hear a young man boasting and a loud beat. When it’s Broadway, I hear a precisely sung, consciously pretty melody.

But fans of those genres hear so much more than that. They spot those signposts that identify the genre but quickly move on to the details that make that particular example of it, hopefully, unique. The things that non-fans never hear. The non-fan is judging it based on the seeming cliches. The fan, on the variations on those cliches. In truth, they don’t hear cliches at all. Truisms, probably.

Which brings me back to the Shoes. Present Tense/Tongue Twister is a two-fer, not a best of - their second and third albums, depending upon how you count them.

So did I ever get past the recognition of the cliches? Yes and no.

At times, the Shoes sound like an embryonic Fountains of Wayne, just not quite as snide, which may be due to their Midwestern roots. While the singing verges on the wimpy, the beat and the guitars are just hard and fast enough to make up for it and still keep it pop. If they were from New York, they would have gotten a lot of critical support by appearing to be ironic, like Nick Lowe. But they weren’t. (Nor was he.)

Like Big Star before them, they just wrote, played and sang pop songs at a time when it was out of style - after the Beatles but before New Wave. And when it came back, there was Nick Lowe ready to take over for them. So they kind of got lost in the shuffle.

That’s a shame, if not quite a tragedy. They’re really expert technicians of the genre. Each song has at least a couple of things going for it - the rhythm guitar sound, a great hook, etc. When you notice the lyrics they’re actually not bad. And thet more or less maintain that level throughout, occasionally catching you off guard with something REALLY good, like “Every Girl”, ‘Three Times” or “Girls of Today”, all of which have at least three things going for them.

So what we have are two very good - but not great - records. Expertise will only get you so far, and there’s nothing quite weird/brilliant enough on it to rank with Big Star.  And so I like and appreciate it, but don’t love it. B+



And their very generic-ness is what keeps them jumping around on my 2013 rankings. One day it all comes together and they’re near the top, the next day, they’re down in the lower third.

So Far This Year:
1. Japandroids
2. Tame Impala
3. GBV
4. Pink Floyd
5. Sugar
6. Shoes-Present Tense
7. Iron & Wine
8. Shoe-Tongue Twister
9. Phil Ochs