Monday, December 29, 2014

In Between the Go-Betweens

Brutal Youth:

I was a relatively well-behaved teenager, which meant I had a lot of time on my hands. So I’d think up little projects for myself to pass the time. Things that would never occur to my more fun-loving (or rather, fun-having) friends. 

I’d recycle my record collection, or total up the running times of my albums (40 minutes was my standard of excellence). Or pore over album liner notes obsessively (Hugh McCracken, anyone?)

See a pattern here? It’s okay, it helped cut down on the masturbation. Slightly.

Another one of the projects I’d assign myself was to go deep into an artist’s catalog - buying most if not all of their albums, at least until I noticed the law of diminishing returns kick in.

Well, some things never change. They may take a lot more time - or a lot less, depending on what you’re talking about - but I still find myself doing them. But let’s get back to music, shall we?


Once a Nerd...

I’ve been on this on-again-off-again quest to get every album by the Go-Betweens. The off-again aspect of it can be attributed to real life occasionally butting in, but it’s also due to a slight, but totally unreasonable, sense of disappointment.

It started with Go-Betweens:1978-1990 which, over the 24 years since I got it, has become one of my all-time favorite albums. (Good luck finding it, though.) 

This is an embarrassing admission. I always found it lame when one of someone’s top albums was a “Best of”. It smacks of laziness, middle age, parenthood and Merlot.

And when you start with a “Best of”, and then decide to go deep, aren’t you just bound to be disappointed by the original albums? Not necessarily.While “Best of"s purport to be the cream of the crop, no sooner is one released before fans begin to carp about the song selection.

Most of the time I find “Best Ofs” to be frustrating. You’d think they’d be fantastic, and sometimes they are. But sometimes the very variety of these albums make the individual songs not sit together well. Thus the original albums are the more satisfying. 

Or sometimes the song selection sucks.

Which should have been the case here, since GBs:1978-1990 is actually a best-of/compilation of rare cuts and B-sides. By definition, a mixed bag. The regular albums should be just as good, right?

There are about ten GB albums, so where to start? You want to get your money’s worth, so you avoid albums with a lot of the songs from the Best of. But then, doesn’t that suggest it’s a weaker album? What to do?

I finally got around to getting Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express - their fourth album, with only one song on the compilation - a few years later. Good, but not as hooky or stirring as I’d have liked, and so I paused.

About ten years later I got Ocean’s Apart, which came out after GBs:1978-1990 and an extended band hiatus. It’s one of my favorite albums of the 2000s. So maybe they were worth further exploration, after all.

Then came Spring Hill Fair - their third, with three picks. About halfway between Liberty and Oceans in terms of production and muscle, but just missing a little magic. So I put my toys away for a while.

I tried again last year with Tallulah - their fifth, which was very good! But it was clear that GBs:1978-1990 got the best songs - all four of the them! - from it.

Maybe it was time to stop. After all, what were the chances that the next one would have any revelations? And yet, spurred on by glowing on-line user reviews (let’s deal with that at another time) I was still intrigued enough to continue.


Always a Nerd:

So here's the latest installment in my undiminished, yet still slightly disappointing quest:

Before Hollywood.jpg


Their second record, more or less. Quiet, bare. But propulsive. Purported to be a significant leap forward from the debut.

One thing that always set the GBs off from other singer/songwriter bands is the engine they constructed under each song. It always had a lot of horsepower. Forget about being female, Lindy Morrison was simply one of the best drummers around. And their guitar-bass interplay always made them a band rather than just a bunch of musicians standing around and playing with the songwriters.

This was necessary, though, since Robert Forster, who wrote intriguing songs, was never big on singing pretty. David Byrne seems to be his inspiration, but things aren’t weird enough here to warrant such  mannerisms.

And I wish they stuck to their guns with the arrangements. For some reason, they throw in an organ, even though the best songs here - “Cattle and Cain” and “Dusty in Here”, both of which naturally appear on
GBs:1978-1990 - are the ones that are the very barest. Given how everyone was dabbling in synthesizers at the time, it must have been their half hearted attempt to stay “current”.

But despite such awkward corners but there is a personality emerging that would result in some of the best songwriting in the 80s. This may be their best balance of band and song without production. The GBs have almost arrived! B+


Best of the Best ofs:

So the GBs don’t make it easy. Each album has high points that keep you around long enough to hear the rougher stuff. The funny thing is that GBs:1978-1990 was like that too.

And now that I’m a few albums into the catalog my estimation of GBs:1978-1990 - which I’d already marked as my favorite non-Christmas holiday album - just keeps going up.

Which makes me think that while there are at least two more of their records I’ve got my eye on, I should slow down a bit.

After all, what’s the big deal? I don’t have Yellow Submarine yet, either.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Tom, Dick, etc.

In 1968, when the Beatles were asked who they were listening to, they responded “Nilsson!”. And America said, “Who?”.


America would eventually catch up to the Beatles. First it was “Everybody’s Talkin’”, which won Harry Nilsson a Grammy. Then some people may have caught “The Point” - an hour long cartoon he essentially conceived and wrote the songs for. But it was Nilsson Schmilsson, which had the huge hit “Without You”, that really put him on the map.

He went on to make many more records - some very good, some not so much - while out carousing with John Lesson and many, many others.

And then a few years ago, he passed away a few years ago, and was genuinely mourned by his fellow carousers.

The End

For a fuller picture, you might want to check out the documentary “Who Is Harry Nilsson (And Why Is Everybody Talkin' About Him?”  Definitely worthwhile.




But what were the Beatles so excited about? Mainly his first couple of albums.


Well, if it’s good enough for the Beatles it’s good enough for me.


Harry Nilsson.jpg


These two CDs represent Harry’s first two real albums recorded during 1967 and 1968. The first disc contains those two albums. The second disc is comprised of his attempt to make a single record out of those two records, and partly failing, but with some spectacular results, plus some bonus cuts. Got that?


Nilsson is an extremely talented singer and songwriter who sometimes dabbles in genres I’m not all that crazy about. Which results is records that are very good but that could have been (my definition of) great.



First, there was Pandemonium Shadow Show, which looks like this:




This is clever, intricate pop music. “1941”, written by Harry, is brilliant, beautiful and heartbreaking. The rest of the record is very entertaining all the way through, so it takes a while to realize that while the covers are good but unnecessary. “She’s Leaving Home” is perfect but wouldn’t replace the Beatles’ version.  Same for “River Deep, Mountain High”.


Was this just the record company’s way of marketing him?  Maybe they thought including those titles would draw some people in. Kind of like what they did with a lot of singers from the pre rock era. And they were striving to showcase a singer at least as much as they were a songwriter.


And Harry could do both in spades. He could write and sing Sinatra type ballads, music hall ditties, cabaret ballads. All very skillfully done, but not my cup of tea.


It’s hard to find fault with this record, and it’s certainly pleasant enough as it goes by, but I want more Harry! B+


So then came Aerial Ballet:




And we get him! Almost all Harry compositions. Some, like “Daddy’s Song” and “Good Old Desk”, that begin the record are almost as great as “1941”. And the others that end it, like “I Said Goodbye to Me” (which I thought was about a breakup, but may be about suicide) is. It’s also got “Everybody’s Talkin’” and Harry’s version of “One” (the big hit for Three Dog Night), and “Bath”, which are fantastic.


An almost classic. A-


A couple of years later, after he wins a grammy for “Everybody’s Talkin”, he goes back into the studio and tries to combine these two records into one, which resulted in:


Aerial Pandemonium Ballet:




And he almost gets it right.

The results - the best of both records and all Harry with the exception of Everybody’s Talkin could have been a truly great album,



But again, because he’s as much a singer as he is a songwriter, he includes “River Deep, Mountain High” when he could have included a couple of other of his own songs.


I would have done a better job compiling it, and it would have gotten an A or even an A+.


But Harry only gets a A-.


But unlike the John Cale set I got last year - another 2 CD set comprised of three albums - I could easily let this one play all the way through, repetitions and all,  without stopping. It’s that good. My caveats are more on principle than on sound.  

And the bonus cuts are excellent.


So, overall this set gets a strong  A-




But that’s Harry for you. He was nothing if not a bit frustrating.


Whimsy, melody and not a small bit of pain. a very impressive set of music, and it serves to remind us that Harry was doing great work long before Nilsson Schmilsson.

Right, yet again, Beatles!

Saturday, November 29, 2014

No More Monkees Business, or Perhaps a Bit Less Than a Full Barrel:

By late 1967 the Monkees craze had died down a bit. At least for me. I was, after all, ten years old!

But the rest of the world was also getting a bit tired of it all. It could have had something to do with that other group putting out Sgt. What’s His Name or the Summer of Love, but who’s to say?


Having experienced an album-challenged childhood, back then I heard of Sgt. Pepper more than I heard it. And the Summer of Love? What the hell did they mean by that? So why did I lose interest in the Monkees? After all, I loved Headquarters, which came out earlier that same year. And wasn’t “Pleasant Valley Sunday” fantastic?


Peer pressure, I guess. And a lack of funds. So while my friends were getting Jimi Hendrix albums, I couldn’t be caught spending paying what little money I had on a Monkees album.


But now, via the anonymity (and crazy inflated user ratings) of amazon.com I can, and then brag about it via the anonymity of this blog.


Pisces.jpg


On Headquarters they played all the instruments themselves, with great results, but no hits. So I guess they had to compromise a bit on this one. Relying mostly on others to do the playing and almost exclusively on others for songs, they were back (almost) to square one musically.


Not a terrible thing, really. As much as Mike Nesmith may have hated it, and as much as anyone else may hated the idea of it, More of the Monkees was actually pretty great. It was the epitome of manufactured pop music, so I should (at least now) hate it on principal. And I do - on principal. But I love it in reality.


Speaking of Michael Nesmith, he really shines here, singing better than ever on most of the best songs. Mickey is his usual self contributing great vocals. But Peter is almost absent. And Davey hides behind a good Harry Nilsson song, and is at his smarmy worst (Sorry Davey! RIP!) on another.


So Headquarters is far more consistent, but this one does have the aforementioned “Pleasant Valley Sunday” - one of the greatest pop records ever - and “Words” (no slouch, either), which give it the higher peaks.
.
But I’m a consistency guy and much prefer Headquarters. But it is nice to know that they were still trying long after I stopped listening.


I was moving ever further onward in my musical explorations.


I was nearly eleven, you see.
B+


Friday, November 28, 2014

That Is the Question!

We do these things sometimes. We rebuy “lost” records because they bring back a specific time.


CD or Not CD:

This used to be a big question - which of your vinyl records would you replace with the better sounding CD?

There was a lot to consider:
  1. Do you still have it? Some records disappear mysteriously… You know who you are.
  2. If you’ve still got it, what shape is it in?  Did you accidentally step on it when you dropped it on the filthy floor (Beggar’s Banquet), or did that penny you put on the Victrola’s tone arm dig a new groove, thus creating your own unique version of the album (Revolver), and you’d maybe like to hear it the way it was recorded?
  3. Would the CD version make a marked difference in sound quality? I tried to convince myself of this but I can’t think of a single example where this turned out to be true.
  4. Oh, and how good is the record? I”ll admit this matters.
  5. Does it have anything left for you? Ah, the most elusive question of all! The question of the record’s half-life, which I covered in my 8 track posts link.

It's kind of funny to see all the young folk considering these same questions except that they’re going in reverse - from CD to vinyl.

Friend Mike Strikes Again:

So anyway, Friend Mike got this record back when we were roommates. When he moved away he left his records with me. I eventually gave them back. This in marked contrast to me when I moved out of my parent’s house. I sure as hell took all of my records - plus the stereo! - leaving my Brother Pat hanging.

The contents of Friend Mike’s Record Collection are somewhat blurry now. Which is a shame since there were many shared experiences in there.

But this one I remember well.

It was 1981, and Friend Mike and I were were sharing an apartment, and sufficiently pulverized by Television to risk getting the dreaded post-breakup-solo-album-by-the-former-front-man. (See Little Feat and Lowell George for an egregious example.)

So Mike picked it up, and it immediately made it onto our 3am Philosophical Discussion After Bar Hopping playlist. 

But before you knew it Mike upped and left for Germany. And Italy. And Japan. And Egypt. And f*cking Mars for all I know.

And me? Oh, I did my share of traveling. From Southwest Brooklyn to slightly more easterly Southwest Brooklyn to even more slightly eastward Southwest Brooklyn. Yeah, ladies, I was a real ramblin’ man!


TV or Not TV?:
Tom Verlaine.jpg

This is Tom Verlaine's first solo record after the breakup of Television.

And it would be ludicrous to say it compares to either of Televisions’s two studio releases. That's okay. Good TV (Tom Verlaine) doesn’t quite compare to Good TV (Television, the musical group) it beats the hell out of Good TV (the household appliance).

Tom was one of the great guitar players of the rock era. And it’s important that he come on strong instrumentally since his voice is kind of gnarly. He sounds like he’s being strangled under normal circumstances. When he strains, well…

Luckily for us, he delivers with the guitar. And his lyrics are always worthwhile. Thus each song has something to offer, whether it be imaginative playing, ideas, or general atmosphere. Sometimes all three.

So while it’s nothing monumental, it does bear the simple message that Tom was alive and kicking, though maybe not quite as hard as before. Point taken. Plus, he’d go on to make better records. Like the more in your face Dreamtime.

And although it's 2014, I'm happy to report that after a few listens everything kicks back into place, and I'm right back in 1981, feeling that Tom (and Friend Mike for that matter) was entering into his next phase, which Dreamtime would confirm in spades.  B+

Friday, November 14, 2014

Arcade Glow

Me and Arcade Fire go way back.


I found their first record, Funeral, Life Changing.  


Neon Bible aims for life changing, but that rarely works, and doesn’t here. But even after the initial disappointment of it, I have to admit it’s still a very strong record.

The Suburbs was calm, satisfying and reassuring in that they could come up with sixteen excellent - as opposed to NB’s ten hit or miss - songs.

But, as you might notice, there’s the "artist half-life” working here. This is when an artist first blows you away, but over the course of time, grows less inspired.  Their original, er, fire, wanes to a glow. Warm but not brilliant.

That Arcade Fire's best work may be behind them is no sin. It happens to the best of them/us.


But like any other self respecting, and formerly Life Changing band, they try something new.


Arcade Fire Reflektor.jpg



AF does it by shifting to a more dance oriented sound, using James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem to help produce.

They risk pissing off their fans, but it’s a smart move to shake off all that alt rock adulation. Besides, no one’s expecting a masterpiece at this point.



This new sound was introduced on a TV special after their appearance on SNL. Unlike the rest of the universe, I really enjoyed it.

Now that I have the record, how does it sound after being a little more lived in? After all, whatever move you’re trying to make, you better bring along the goods, like good songs. So do they?


Kindasorta.


It’s a two CD set. Think of it as their Sandanista, though less compelling, urgent or even earnest. But that’s okay. Earnestness gets annoying after a while.

While Sandanista ran over two hours, Reflektor only goes for a little over 80 minutes, which makes me smell a rat. After all, there are only thirteen songs which, if judiciously edited, could have easily fit onto one CD.

I can hear the objections already:


AF: But that would ruin the concept!  
Me: Whatever that is. If I were more interested I’d read the lyrics to find out.


AF: But we made them longer so that people could dance to them!
Me: I’ll never know.


And yet, I can listen to all of it all the way through, and it doesn’t drag at all. 

Could I live without it? Sure. So it falls into that sad category known as Good But Unnecessary. Is the world a better place with it here? A wee bit.


But I imagine there are many other better - and just as daring - albums out there. So it’s time for me to find my new Arcade Fire. B+