Saturday, December 31, 2016

Holy Toledo!

I’ve spent the year wandering all over musical maps and past eras. This turned out to be a good strategy since 2016 itself was such a turd of a year.

But something was missing and I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

There are a whole bunch of records I’ve gotten this year that were either fun, educational, deep, wide, etc. And as good as they all were - and there are a few I haven’t bothered to mention yet - there haven’t been any that I’d call great. Or Great.

Then it hit me. How about something new?  How about something from THIS year? I might have thought of this before but the whole year’s been like kryptonite so why would I bother with its music?

So I finally broke down and got something that I hoped would be worthwhile. What I got, though, is undeniably Great.

And I’m glad I got it after the election. Otherwise, it might have been ruined. It would have added to my depression with me blaming myself for getting distracted by a record instead of oh, participating in our democratic experiment.

Instead, I got it at exactly the right time. And now, I can enjoy it as pure “deal with the sh*t with a shout” music.

Car Seat Headrest.jpg

Car Seat Headrest: Teens of Denial (2016)

Will Toledo is a nerdy-looking young man:

Will Toledo.jpg

(see?) with a nasal voice a la Jonathan Richman, although I do hear a stressed out Ray Davies, too. In other words, not what you'd think of as a typical rock n' roller.

He writes lyrics about depression, boredom and drunk driving, and attaches them to great rock and roll music. He’s got a tight little band that is very sympathetic to those musical and lyrical leanings.

There is nothing revolutionary here.  But the tunes have the deft chord changes that you know in your bones but haven’t heard put to such good use in decades.

Lyrics filled with pain and insight and even humor. Surges and swells in all the right places. And even the rock n roll cliches (organ swells, shouted refrains, etc.) sound fresh.

Oh, it’s caused some controversies.  It was playing during a tense thirty-minute "family discussion". And it refused to play in the car a couple of times.  I have a sneaky feeling my son hates it, and that my wife thinks I love it more than I love her. (Not true, sweetheart!)

And everyone in the house is either talking to me when I try to play it, or telling me to turn it down when I do.

Ah, but it’s the troublesome ones that you love the most, isn’t it?  (Not really, but in this case, oh so true.) Plus, Mrs. Jaybee is coming around.

This is the best rock and roll record I’ve heard in ages, and the best record, both of the year 2016 (like I’d know) and my year, including all the other stuff I’ve gotten from 1725 through 2015.

In this time when there hasn’t been all that much to be joyful about, this record gives me hope. And that’s all I want.

I find myself wanting to shout some of the choruses in public.

And what better recommendation is that?

A
“Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales”





Saturday, December 24, 2016

World History Project: Semi-Christmas Edition, or, Handel and Vivaldi Strike Bach!

So, in keeping with the holiday spirit (not really), here are a few more classical records - two out of three of which are God-themed, but only one of which is, oh, joyful! But that’s a better batting average than usual.

There’s one each by Bach, Handel and Vivaldi. I keep comparing these guys when there’s really no valid reason to. These just happen to be records I have where the compositions were written around the same period (1725-1750 or so). But from that point, I’m just making sh*t up.

But since these same three guys keep popping up I considered giving them a humorously inappropriate nickname, like "The Three Amigos" (especially since, like Beethoven, Steve Martin actually lost some hearing during the making of that movie). But I’m not talking about Beethoven right now, am I? (That was a test.)

There’s also a part in the movie Don’t Look Back where poor Donovan plays a pretty song only to have Dylan blow him away with “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue”. In other words, your song sucked. Christ, what a prick.

But I didn't have a third guy, so forget that.

Then there's the Three Stooges, but who is who? I mean, up until now, I could see Bach as Moe, slapping both Vivaldi

Vivaldi.jpg
who reminds me of Larry
 Larry.jpg

and Handel (which makes him Curly or Shemp. You pick) across the face in one swing, because he keeps being better than them.

Does that situation apply here?  Not exactly, but it’s funny how, no matter what Handel or Vivaldi do, Bach’s always there to outdo them.

But not today!


Mass in B Minor.jpg
Bach: Mass in B Minor

So Handel’s doing his thing with Messiah which is a bunch of people singing about Jesus, and of course, Bach says I can do that! and writes Mass in B Minor.  (Yeah, he's really reminding me of Dylan at this point.

And well, it’s kind of what you’d expect at Mass, which is a bunch of people singing together kind of slow - occasionally midtempo. And if they’re having a good time, I wouldn’t know because they’re singing in another language.

But let’s face it, even with the language barrie, you can usuallly tell when there’s a party going on. And it ain’t here.

Now I admit, I should have known what I was getting into. I already have Requiems by Mozart and Brahms and, well, they’re requiems. That word translates into “not quite as fun as Mass”.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised.

But they do occasionally pep up, but that’s really only when they’re kissing God’s ass, which is what people spent a lot of time doing back then.

So, I can’t say that it’s bad, because it’s not. But I’ll go to hell if I only give it a B, so

B+

Here’s the whole thing. Play it on Sunday, and you won’t have to go to church.


Messiah.jpg
Handel: Messiah

I mentioned this one before in comparison to another George (Harrison) because I like to play bother of them on Christmas.

For my money, Messiah beats Mass in B Minor, mainly because the latter IS IN B MINOR! Not the cheeriest key.

Meanwhile Messiah is a bunch of people singing (in English!) about how happy they are about said Messiah. So there’s really no contest.

And there’s usually someone singing lead, whereas in Mass it’s a bunch of people trying to convince you that, despite the key we’re singing it, it’s all good. (Actual lyrics!)

I’m not buying it.

The worst you can say about Messiah is that they like to repeat lines over and over, so a song with five lines may go on for ten minutes, a la:

BeHOLD a virgin shall conceive and bear a son!
Behold a VIRgin shall conceive and bear a son!
Behold a virgin SHALL conceive and bear a son!
Beho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-hold… etc.

You get the idea.

But one great thing is that there are individuals singing.

First, there's the bass dude, going on for a while about the good news, instead of actually delivering it.
And then, the lady - probably his wife - singing Will you get to the f*cking point? Praise the Lord!
And then the chorus comes in to take sides.
First the wives with He’s such an ass! How'd you let yourself get knocked up by him? God Bless Us!
Then the husbands come to his defense with Hey, she’s no bargain, whatever and ever amen

So it’s more entertaining. Like a family gathering. But as you can see it takes some time before the, uh ACTUAL MESSIAH shows up.

And while I’ve had this record for, oh 25 years now, I couldn’t be positive I’d know it when it’s on. But if you drop the needle on it somewhere I’d find myself enjoying it. (Mass not so much  It makes me feel like I should be sitting up straight.)

Oh, and on Messiah, I can hear people having a good time.

A-

Enjoy!


Vivaldi Mandolin.jpg
Vivaldi: Mandolin Concerto
Vivaldi: The Mandolin Concerti: Concerto in G Major for Two Mandolins, Strings, and Basso Continuo, P133; Concerto in C Major for Mandolin, Strings and Basso Continuo P134
Concerto in C Major for Two Mandolins, Two Theorboes, Two Flutes, Two (are you really still reading this? Okay, I’ll keep going) P16; Concerto a due Chori in B-Flat Major “Con Violino Discordato” for Strings and Basso Continuo P368

Which you probably can’t find anymore, but any of these should do.

Not much God here, this is just a really good album - maybe my all time favorite classical record.

You get to hear a string instrument you like and the style of playing is in a sweet spot between classical and pop. Some nice riffs and melodic turns, so it doesn’t feel like work at all.

It’s almost like the Grateful Dead doing an acoustic album.

A

"Concerto in G Major"


So, in your face Bach (or Dylan, or Moe or whoever you are)!

For the rest of us (rhymes with?) this Christmas, I suggest getting Mass out of the way early, rejoice for the coming of the Messiah, and then just kick back with a drink, and enjoy those wailing mandolins!

Saturday, December 10, 2016

World History Project: Bach Around the Clock

I was thinking of including this in my Music for Catastrophes series. I’d been playing it pretty regularly since June. It’s seven CDs - which was just enough to get me through this very f*cked-up year we’re in.

And well suited musically. After all, back when this stuff was composed (1722-1750) disaster was a daily occurrence. But people, come on! It’s not a competition! They couldn’t help it back then. Ours is self-inflicted.

But aside from that little happy coincidence, it’s really part of the World History Project.

First prompted by a reference to A Musical Offering mentioned in Godel Escher and Bach, and then numerous other references to The Well-Tempered Clavier, and finally, Radar O’Reilly being partial to the Fugue, I managed to find it all in one place.

I mean, how could I say no?

So here it is. The big magilla.


Bach Harpsichord.jpg

Bach: Well-Tempered Clavier (Das Wohltemperierte Clavier) / The Art of the Fugue (Die Kunst der Fuge) / Musical Offering (Musikalisches Opfer) Import, Box set, Collector's Edition
Johann Sebastian Bach (Composer), Davitt Moroney (Performer), Janet See (Performer), John Holloway (Performer), Jaap ter Linden (Performer), Martha Cook

You like how I put the German title in there, too? Pretty classy, right?

Anyway, there were a lot of talented people before Bach, but jeez, this guy is just off the charts. Great musician, great improviser, great composer. Their Prince, maybe?

So let’s break this all down.


The Well-Tempered Clavier Book 1 (CDs 1 and 2) and Book 2 (CDs 3 and 4):

Funny story: Back then the clavier (or to us, the harpsichord) was more or less just invented and people were tuning it in all sorts of different ways.

Along comes Bach, who says Enough of this different tuning sh*t. Listen, assholes! Here’s my way - the right way - to tune the damned thing, and by the way, if you don’t believe me, in my spare time, I wrote 24 tunes - each in a different key -  just wrote to prove it. So everyone just shut the f*ck up, okay?

And that’s a direct quote. (Okay, I’m lying about that.) But what a badass!

And he does it very methodically. First C Major, then C Minor, then C sharp major, and then C sharp minor.

And you can just hear him thinking as he goes along What? Still don’t believe me? How about I do D Major and then D Minor? Here you go! Want more? Okay, here’s E, etc. all the way to G, and then back to A and B because you illiterate b*stards didn’t notice I didn’t start with A!

And if you think age may have mellowed him out, no. Twenty years later and he does another 24. Really, he was kind of an asshole.

But I guess you want to know what it sounds like.

Amazingly enough, not annoying. And Davitt Moroney can really play. He’s no Elton John or anything, but he’s not bad.

And it’s not too “fussy”. And you know what I mean by that. It doesn’t come with all those trills and flourishes that would me want to punch poor Davitt in the mouth. It helps that he’s not wearing the big wig. (A recurring theme in this series.)  He just looks like a regular guy.

This music is peaceful (probably why I keep going back to it). Kind of like the Beatles “Because”  played at various tempos and keys, except without the voices.  That may not sound like much, but in classical music less is usually more.

A-

“Prelude & Fugues in C major”


The Art of the Fugue (CDs 5 and 6):

This is designed music. Experimental if you will. And yet, he could just improvise it on command. I’ll assume he wrote these down first. Each one is made up of two separate melodies that weave around each other and sometimes combine to make a third one.

What a show-off.

But again, they’re not pompous or overbearing, just exploratory. You get the feeling he could have made it more complicated but he wanted to make sure you could follow.

And it hits that sweet spot of holding your attention if you want it to or letting you go do something else while it’s on while providing a perfect background.

So maybe the guy was mellowing.

A-

J.S. Bach "Little" Fugue in G minor, BWV 578 


A Musical Offering (CD 7):

This one’s more varied than the others. It’s actually got some other instruments on it. And simply lovely.

Nuff said!

A-

“Musical Offering BWV 1079 XVII. Ricercar a 6”


Bach to the Future:

This little adventure could have been a big waste of time. It had all the earmarks of being “work” - a huge rabbit hole I dug for myself that I could neither relate to or enjoy. If that had been the case, though, I would have discretely put it aside by now. But I still find myself putting it on.

So while I don’t love it like the best pop music, it does, in its way, stand as my album of the year.

Saturday, November 26, 2016

More Music for Catastrophes, or, Heart of Glass:

Friend-at-Work-Andrew and I talk a lot about music. It sure beats talking about work.

We have a lot of common interests, and when I told him about my delving into classical music via my World History Project, and Bach in particular, he pointed me in a couple of very fruitful directions.

But my favorite of his recommendations is more contemporary.

Like Phillip Glass, by way of our common admiration for Brian Eno. I’d already gone down the contemporary classical path with Terry Riley and Steve Reich.

Glass never had the obvious record to buy, other than the triple record Einstein at the Beach, which I was - of course - too cheap to try.

So Andrew pointed me to this record one instead:


Glassworks.jpg
Philip Glass: Glassworks (Expanded Edition) (1981)

One of the reasons I kept putting off getting something by Philip Glass is that the description adjectives I’ve read of his music were complimentary but alienating: repetitive/rhythmic/minimalistic. These are not the words that typically trigger my interest. I’m more of an emotional/melodic/joyful/suicide inducing kind of guy.

So, in finally relenting, I braced myself for something academic and dry, but instead got a very emotionally charged record.  Son Michael - a rock n' roller asked "What’s this?" while the very first song played.

We then go back and forth between what you’d expect based on the dry compliments above to unexpectedly lovely interludes.

By itself, I’d judge Glassworks about a B+, but what really puts it over in this expanded edition is the inclusion of selected cuts from In the Upper Room - a dance piece he did with Twyla Tharp back in 1983(?) - which turn out to be just as good as - and sometimes even better than - Glassworks itself.

And by “Dance II” we are taking off! And here is where I begin to notice that Glass isn’t above using pop-like minor chord changes, just enough to keep idiots like me focused.

So not only do I get to feel superior to people by listening to this kinda highbrow stuff, I get to actually enjoy it too!

And “Opening” is the perfect solace for these trying times.

A-

Saturday, November 19, 2016

Music For Catastrophes

Whenever I’m severely depressed, or dealing with some sort of “Major Negative Issue” I would avoid new music, fearing that it would just get the stench of the crisis and forever be tainted by it. I’d use similar logic to deprive myself of other fun things during those times, but now I’m beginning to think that approach only made things worse. This time around, I’ll do good things for myself to keep up my strength, and one of those things will be to listen to good music. Another rule worth breaking now is my No More Than One CD by an Artist rule. Which is, when given the choice between two records to buy, I’d get the one by the band I didn’t have anything by yet. Its original intent was to cut down on those instances where I’m getting the eighth or twelfth record by one artist at the expense of hearing something new by another. After all, unless you’re Dylan or Neil Young, there’s little reason to think your twelfth record is as good as your first. But everyone once in awhile, I wise up and ask myself why I never bothered to go back to the well for a band that made a record I loved? Which brings me to the Chills, who made one of my all time favorite records, Submarine Bells (1990), which was definitely one of the best records of the 90s. Chills.jpg The Chills: Kaleidoscope World (1986) This time it’s their first album (Submarine Bells was their second) which is really a collection of singles. Now I know what you’re thinking. I’ve never even heard of these guys. Well, like the Clean before them, they’re from New Zealand. Most of the key characteristics of the band are here, if in more embryonic form. The songs with rhythms or melodies like old sea shanties, but modernized via echoey organ and guitar textures that provide a haunting, out of reach quality. Their music hasn’t yet taken on the bright sharp production of SB, but if anything, it’s even more haunting for that reason. The songs are as melodic as ever, but this time they sound both modern and mythic at the same time. Martin Phillips’ vocals may seem nondescript but they fit the mood perfectly, only adding to the overall atmosphere. The lyrics deal with major themes like death and love and leather jackets, so you know they’ve got their priorities straight. And they’re just vague enough to keep me intrigued. Somehow they manage to rock out more, too. And the good news is that they’re pretty good at it. The brilliance is not yet in full focus but it’s here nonetheless. So, while I’d recommend SB first, if you like that one, proceed on to this one. You won’t be sorry. I hope the music here will help me through some of this awful time. As far as getting the stench of the time on it, only time will tell. A- “Rolling Moon”

Saturday, October 22, 2016

World History Project: Vivaldi vs. Handel vs. Bach, Round Two!

One thing I keep forgetting to mention about my World History Project (where I’m currently reading Clarissa by Samuel Richardson, circa 1747)  is how it gives me an opportunity to fill in the huge gaps in my classical music collection.

God, I hate that word “collection”! It conjures visions of shelves full of records no one ever listens to. Maybe I should just say that it gives me a chance to hear stuff I haven’t heard before.

One common complaint about classical music is that “all that sh*t sounds the same”. I get that.

Another is that it’s too damned fussy. I get that too, and I agree. I like it best when they all just calm the f*ck down and play a pretty tune.

Plus, I think of it as music for rich people.

I said last time that I’d like to punch the guy wearing the wig and funny clothes who plays the harpsichord (or the horn or the violin, although they always seem to be wearing a tux and just waiting for someone to give them a wedgie) when he does those little flourishes at the end of a tune. It’s like he’s holding a tea cup with his pinkie sticking out. And who doesn’t want to just snap that little pinkie off?

Whew! I’m glad I got all of that out of my system.

So I took the occasion to get two new records from a couple of guys we’ve run into before, and listen more closely to one record I’ve had for some time.

And I judge them partly by whether they sound the same, and whether they’re too damned fussy and whether I feel I have to check my credit score before listening to them, which is what the theme from Masterpiece Theater sounds like.

Call it the Punch In the Face Index (PFI), or Break That Pinkie Off Index (BPI). Or Burn Their Mansion Down Index (BMI). Up to you.

Each record occasionally falls into the above-mentioned traps but one blows right past them.


Handel Water Music.jpg
Handel: Water Music (1717)

Here’s some more music from that guy we first met here and then again here.

This is orchestrated much like the Masterpiece theme, but maybe a little happier/peppier (which ain’t sayin’ much, btw.)

The instrument I hear the most here is the french horn. It’s kind of stately but not too overbearing. It’s got a kind of waltz-y beat going on, which keeps it from getting boring (but then again, you won’t be dancing to it). It won’t quite grab your heart, though. It’s like that couple that come to your barbecue all dressed up.

However, I put it on in the backyard on a beautiful October day and it was just wonderful. Turns out it was composed for a festival that took place next to the River Thames.  (Notice how they don’t call it the Thames River? If they hear you say that, they assume you’re making minimum wage.)

So it turns out it’s not for a summer barbecue but rather a fall walk in the park, preferably one with a body of water that you name backwards, like River Hudson or Lake Clove.

Based on an outside listen, this is an easy A-, assuming the weather’s good and it’s the right time of year.

But I’m an indoor kind of guy.

So, not great, but not bad at all.

B+


Vivaldi Four Seasons.jpg
Vivaldi: The Four Seasons (1723)

And not to be outdone, Vivaldi comes back, too.

And we’ve all heard the opening theme, right? I forget where, though. Some ads, I think.  Charmin? Camel Cigarettes? Yeah, that sounds right.

It’s also got that Masterpiece Theater vibe but manages to keep it all a bit lighter. I find it more varied than Water Music. There are some slow ones, some fast ones (Handel never really quite revs up to, say, “Wipe Out” speed. That’s okay. No waves by the Thames.)

And there are more violins than horns, which I prefer. And the slow quiet parts are real pretty.

Again, you won’t lost your sh*t listening to this, but it’ll make the time go by quite pleasantly.

B+


Bach Brandenburg.jpg
Bach: The  Brandenberg Concertos (1721)

This is the record I bought back in the summer of 1983 when I took another shot at classical music at exactly the wrong time.  Poor Johann Sebastian was up against a summertime glut of pop music that was making me perfectly happy at the time thank you very much.

But now, over thirty years later, I can hear it much better.

Compared against Vivaldi and Handel, Bach comes as a bit of a relief. He’s lighter on his feet, more melodic, more relaxed, and not trying to impress you like the other two guys.

I mean, he already impressed me with the sheer gall of his Six Solo Cello Suites. I mean, who does that?  Well apparently a few people, but whatever.

Here he knocks out six concertos for this guy Brandenburg, in about a year and a half. And it’s everything Vivaldi and Handel ain’t. And those guys are pretty good!

I also notice that he keeps the band a little smaller. You could almost fit them in your living room. Okay, maybe not quite.

Funny thing. Turns out that you’ll find the 2nd Concerto, Third Movement used as the theme for "Firing Line". At the time, I always found it to be the epitome of fussiness, and yet when heard in the context of all six of these pieces, it goes down a lot easier.

So, if I were to give an analogy, Vivaldi and Handel are Chuck Berry and Elvis, while Bach is the Beatles. And with all due respect to the other gentlemen, I’m a Beatles Guy all the way.

A-

Saturday, October 8, 2016

My 70s Show, Part Two

Lately, I’ve been having a lot of fun exploring and revisiting the early 1970s. I turned thirteen in 1970 and feel like I missed a lot of what was going on at the time.

Alas, 1970 was also the first year of “I Wish Things Were As Good As They Were in the Sixties”. After all, we were aware of “the sixties” as a concept even during the sixties themselves. So, along comes 1970, and what could possibly send you the message that the sixties were not only literally over, but also symbolically over than the news that the Beatles broke up?

The only thing that made the summer of 1970 bearable was the Woodstock Soundtrack. But everyone wondered what was next, and had the troubling feeling it couldn’t possibly be as good. Except for the Led Zeppelin fans, who already thought they were better than the Beatles. )I swear. Ask my childhood friends Joe and Mike.)

The trouble was if you just assumed things were going to be bad you were bound to miss a lot. And a problem with the sixties was that you could point to five or ten key artists who made 75% of the great records. With the seventies, the quality was more evenly spread, which made it harder to find, let alone agree on.

So it was no wonder we started breaking up into our little groups of taste like glam, Southern rock, singer-songwriter, heavy metal, etc. And black artists? Forget about it. They were exiled to AM radio.

And yet, there are probably a lot more great albums made in the seventies than the sixties, at least if you leave out jazz.  Let’s face it, good pop albums didn’t really start getting made until 1964, and then only by the Beatles, Stones and Dylan. Everyone else didn’t get into the swing of things until about 1966, which may be my all time favorite year for music (67-69 wasn’t too shabby, either, as I recall).

By 1974, I knew there were great things out there because by then I had a job, and spent all the money on collecting albums. First, there were the key sixties albums I needed to catch up with, like Blonde on Blonde but mostly it was seventies music. I was no longer looking for the “next Beatles”. I was just looking for good music wherever I could find it.

And now, when I’m feeling I’m not connecting with new music, I can always go back to the sixties and seventies for some relief. The sixties for brilliant meteors scraping the summer sky and the seventies for bright and cool autumn sunshine.

And it’s been working out pretty well, with the Kinks, Fairport Convention and Roxy Music. I had some making up to do since it was the British stuff I tended to miss at the time.  But, hey, why not an American artist?












Leon Russell (1970)

You remember Leon, don’t you?

Friends with Joe Cocker, highlight of the Bangla Desh concert, co-writer of “Superstar”, member/leader of Mad Dogs and Englishmen, which overlapped with the  Delaney/Bonnie/Clapton nexus that together made about a dozen albums together at the time, including this one.

He was also up to his ass in sixties studio work and the maker of many hit singles in the seventies.

And a great piano player. Elton John was/is a huge fan.

Leon’s got that grating voice and extreme Southern drawl. We all liked it then, but I like it somewhat less now. Ahh, another great thing about the early seventies was that you could get away with a lot. Now as I get closer to my early seventies, not so much.

This is not even his first record, but it’s his first record where he’s billed as the solo artist.

And it boasts some great tunes.  “Delta Lady” (almost as good as the punchier Joe Cocker version), “Humming Bird” (one of my favorites) , “A Song for You” (covered by everybody), “Roll Away the Stone” (quite humorous).

I just wish it boasted more. If it did, I’d rank it amongst the greatest albums of the seventies. Alas. no. Leon could write some great ones but maybe not enough for one full album at any given time.

And the key, with revisiting early seventies albums is getting beyond the better-known cuts and seeing how the rest of the record holds up. And in this Leon is hit or miss. And it’s not that these other songs aren’t good. They’re well executed, but just don’t rise above a generic seventies sound. Except for that organ on “Hummingbird”, which sounds great.

The playing is real tight. And why not? He’s got half the Stones, half the Beatles, and an assortment of rock n roll all-stars helping him out.

But unlike, say, Lola, which boasts several excellent songs I hadn’t heard before, there’s nothing here like that.

So while he probably deserved an A- at the time of release, the years have taken their toll on it.

My recommendation? Look for one of the extensive compilations and catch all of his highlights. If that isn’t enough for you, then come back to this one.

Mind you, I'm not disappointed. "Less than great" comes with the territory. And "pretty damned good" is all over the place.

B+

“Hummingbird”


Saturday, September 24, 2016

World History Project: Every Record Ever Recorded! (Not!)

Just a clarification on this whole World History Project thing. I will not be reading every book ever published or listening to every record ever recorded, because that would involve listening to Barry Manilow.

So I’ll just be reading books as I find them and listening to the records I already have.

And since I’m up to the 18th Century - and believe it or not Keith Richards was not born yet - I’ll be listening to a lot of classical music.

Having grown up in Brooklyn, it’s hard for me to separate the act of listening to classical music from wanting to punch someone in the face. And since I'm usually the punchee, it’s really saying something that I’d be the one to get that urge.

But classical music brings up images of foppish guys with British - or worse, French - accents, wearing flouncy wigs, and not even having the decency to be doing so in drag.

I can just see them sitting around the mansion, enjoying the latest Bach ditty on the family harpsichord, convinced of their superiority over the lower classes who were busy tending the fields and yet invented folk music. Isn’t that enough to make you want to take a swing?

Now that’s not the fault of the music. It’s just something I have a hard time getting out of my head. So I tend to enjoy classical music to the degree that I can forget that.

Anyway, back to the World History Project. I’m up to 1714, and reading myself some Alexander Pope. (Hey, Jeeves! Where’s my flouncy wig!) Now Pope isn’t as much fun as Neal Stephenson, but he’s not bad.

One of the records I’m listening to from that time is a Musical Heritage Society compilation of work by Vivaldi, Handel and Telemann by the Academy of St Martin in the Fields.



I’ve had no luck finding this record at allmusic.com, so it doesn’t make much sense for me to recommend the album, but I guess I can tell you what I think of each piece.


Handel, Concerto Grosso in G Major  Opus 6, No 1.:

I know what you’re thinking. If this is Opus 6, what happened to the other five? And are they all in G Major? Wow, if so, how did he ever get to the rest of the alphabet? I guess they didn’t have a lot to do back then.

But maybe Opi (the plural of Opus, of course) 1 - 5 weren’t so hot. But by now it’s all good. And this is number 1. Is that it's highest Billboard position? I can’t wait for the rest!

Anyway, this one’s got a lot of violin in it, which I like a lot. Slow and stately, yet melodic and sweet.

Check it out!

B+


Handel, Concerto in A Minor Opus 6, No.4:

And now I’m all confused again. Is this a whole other Opus 6 or are we in the same Opus as last time? Who knows?  I mean, why not just call them Meet the Handels, A Handel’s Day Night, Magical Handel Tour, etc. I mean, we could all get a better - wait for it! - “Handel” on it!  (I just kill me!)

And what’s with the grosso? Hey guys, I just wrote a concerto and it’s kinda gross. Take a listen! It’s like when I barbecue and tell everyone that the food probably didn’t come out that good. Bon appetit!

This one’s a little quieter and the first part, the larghetto afffettuoso allegro (of course) is really very pretty. Slow and sad.

Just like me. 

B+


Vivaldi, Concerto in B Minor for Four Violins Op 3 No 10:

Four violins? Really?

You didn’t see old Ronnie Van Zandt call “Free Bird” Concerto for Three Lead Guitars Opus Awesome No.79, now did you ?  C'mon classical people, get a grip! Well, I guess I'm a little late with that, huh?

Anyway, you can kind of tell it’s Vivaldi. He’s got that stench of Masterpiece Theater on him, but he’s actually pretty cool. The violins stay pretty without getting too, you know, “no fun”. He changes the pace and gets a nice balance of sweet and serious.

Give it a whirl.

B+


Vivaldi, Concerto for Two Trumpets:

This one is soooo Masterpiece Theater it’s not easy to like. And I just can’t.

The trumpets remind me of those old Roman movies when whenever someone entered the castle a bunch of trumpets would play something to announce his arrival, when a doorbell really would have sufficed.

It’s kind of stuffy, and makes you feel like you should be sitting up straight.

All this tooting when all I really need to hear is the french horn from the Tommy “Overture”.

And note, no grosso for old Vivaldi! He’s got a better opinion of himself.

But not me.

Here’ goes.

B-


Telemann, Viola Concerto in G Major:

No Opi for this guy, thank god.

In all of these pieces, I find I like the slower quieter second movements. But Mr. T gets right to the slow part up front.

Violas are at a lower pitch than violins which makes them easier to take over the long haul.

It’s quite pleasant to listen to this piece, which says, hey I’ll just hang out with you and not talk too much. My favorite kind of guest.

But then he can’t help but pick up the pace and get a little loud and fussy. But it’s okay. He can stay for the barbecue.

Hey, Mr. T. Do your thing.

B+


So that’s it for classical music for now. I’ll have to slog through some more Pope, before I get to more Vivaldi and Handel.

But in between, I’ll get back to the apex of Western Civilization: Silly Love Songs and Pop Music.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

More Summer Music!?

But I wasn’t done searching for summer music.

And this record - the very name of it - promised to have exactly what I needed.



The Apples in Stereo: New Magnetic Wonder (2007)

And in several individual moments, it delivers. Which only makes it all the more frustrating that it doesn’t do so more consistently.

The title is actually pretty accurate.  Guitar pop, with synths added. Another weird voice that shouldn’t work but does.

So I would like to report that the tunes are so sharp that any quibbles I might have about overproduction or silliness are swept away in a sea of cascading melodies, lush harmonies and deft chord changes, because that’s what my first impression was.

Alas, it’s more complicated than that. Not all of the tunes rise to the level made in that first impression.

In a lot of ways this is the polar opposite of the Go! Team. That record was tuneful but rough, spontaneous and lo-fi, with the exuberance of youth throughout. This one is tuneful but slick, detailed and produced to a within an inch of its life, with the calculation of of a pop professional throughout.

That’s not exactly a criticism. After all, there are about six excellent and four great pop/rock tunes here. The problem is that they are surrounded by short musical interludes of varying quality, and are suffused with synths and voices channeled through said synths.  The treated vocals remind me of Trans, which is okay, but I’ve already got Trans.

It’s like they’re aiming for a masterpiece and give every single detail way too much attention, when just a couple of more great songs would have done the trick. That’s okay. A lot of records are like that.

Interestingly enough, mastermind Robert Schneider’s high, nasally voice - which sounds like he’s singing to you through a phone line - is not the problem.  The tunes are written with such cunning that they actually take advantage of said voice. The vague sci-fi surroundings help in that regard as well.  

We start off with two very bright and energetic rock oriented cuts, which are so well performed it takes you time to notice they’re not quite great.

But then we get to “Energy” and we’re suddenly on another level. You realize how melodic a songwriter Schneider can be. It ranks with some of the best pop of last decade. But then after several more good but not great songs, as pleasant as it’s been so far, “Energy” is the only one I love.

Don’t get me wrong, I love parts of all the other songs; the guitar part of “Play Tough”, the melody of “The Sunndal Song”, the lo-fi singing on “Sun Is Out”, the grandeur of “Open Eyes”. I could go on. And they do get stuck in my head, too. But not in the love-obsession way, more in the good-but-distracting way.

They score more often during the second half, with high points like “7 Stars”, “Radiation” and "Beautiful Machine, 1-2". It’s a shame we keep hitting minor bumps along the way that slow down the momentum.

So it’s fantastic in spots, frustrating in others. In a way, it reminds me of Badly Drawn Boy’s Hour of the Bewilderbeast, which via more consistent songwriting and less kitchen sink, is more successful.

And, not to be too unkind in the comparison, it's like the difference between the Beatles and ELO.

But if you put it on at a party, your guests may think it’s a great album. I just don’t know what they’re going to think the next day.

Still, having said all this, that party will be lots of fun.

A-

"7 Stars"

Saturday, September 10, 2016

Summer Music!

I use the colder months to explore and go deep into other genres like jazz or classical. I’m usually kind of depressed anyway, so happy music would only taunt me.

When the weather warms up my musical (and mental, hopefully) habits change, too. My energy level increases and I start to look for rock n’ roll and pop music. Something energetic, joyful. Call it Spring or Summer music.

Such music is harder to find than one might think. One person’s “Happy” music is idiotic to another.  One person’s “pop” is another’s mindless commercial junk.
One’s joyful music is another’s sappy garbage.

Can you guess who the “another” is in this analogy?

But everyone once in awhile I’m the “one person”, and I live for those instances.

Anyhow, I realized, as I stated in the prior post a "masterpiece" probably wouldn’t fit the bill, and so went looking for something of note, but maybe not something held in awe by anyone.

There may be thousands of records released every year, but once you put them through the Jaybee strainer you’re lucky if end up with even a handful to seriously consider. It was encouraging to hit upon That Petrol Emotion, and a downright pleasure to find the Go! Team, who have made my Summer Album.



The Go! Team: Thunder, Lightning, Strike (2004)

There is the quiet and pretty summer music that helps you beat the heat, like Beck's Morning Phase, and then there’s the fast loud summer music that allows you to revel in it.

This is the latter.

Now here is a group of young people - of both genders and several races - who make me almost happy to be alive.

And their debut album screams “Youth!”, even when it’s borrowings sound kind of old. And youth in the best sense. Like when you see a group of young people having a good time, and instead of wanting to call the cops, you raise your glass.

The end product is at least partially - and perhaps mostly - samples of other records. (If that sounds unpromising, you might want to check out DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing…  which is comprised exclusively of samples and is, by the way, a masterpiece, and one of the great records of the 90s.)

Anyway, the samples are “borrowed” from all over. (I believe some legal action may have been taken to ensure everyone got their royalty check.) Yet, I’m ashamed to say, I barely recognize any of them.
Which makes it hard for me to tell where the samples leave off and the direct contributions of the band members begin.

But, I. Don’t. Care.

Because they manage to concoct a perfect blend of rock n’ roll, hip-hop, soul and pop on nearly every track. Hear a part you’re not crazy about? Just stick around a few seconds and another part will bring you right back. Don’t like that hip hop intro? Hold on, and the electric guitars will kick in shortly.

I admit the sixties style horns (a la “Hawaii Five-O” and Motown) can get a bit cheesy, but who doesn’t like cheese? Plus, it gives me pleasure to know that these young folks enjoy that music, too.

And to hear it mixed in - successfully!, in “Bottle Rocket” - with a young woman rapping, a young man playing - of all things - harmonica, soul guitar fills, and another young woman singing 2,4,6,8,10!, is damn near exhilarating.

And I almost wish I was the guy playing bass throughout.

I can imagine another person hating this music, either on principle alone or in actual practice. (Mrs. Jaybee does occasionally ask “Sooooo, what is this?”, and not in the good way.)

But I guess one person’s timeless music may be another person’s horror, but I’m definitely the “one person” this time around.

Thunder Lightning Strike! is fast, loud and most of all, joyful. Which is what I’m in this for.

A rare instance when youth is NOT wasted on the young.

A-
“Bottle Rocket”

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Lucinda in Wonderland

Just about every year, we go to Rehoboth Beach - a small town in Delaware.

What’s best about Rehoboth is what it’s not:

While it’s got the boardwalk with the ice cream, arcades and rides, it’s not the bigger, louder Ocean City about twenty miles further south.

It’s also not the snootier Fenwick Island or Bethany Beach, which we probably couldn’t afford.

Instead, it’s a real nice balance of quiet and not too pricey.

And it’s definitely not that frat boy paradise Dewey Beach just five minutes away, which once appeared on the TV show “Cops”, in an episode that answered the question, Do people really get that drunk?

But Dewey is a perfect location for a place like Bottle and Cork, which purports to be the “greatest rock and roll bar in the world”.

Over our many years of coming to this part of Delaware, there’s been a running joke about how somebody good is always playing at the B&C, either on the day before we got there, or the day after we leave. But never while we’re there.

A couple of years ago, it was the Drive-By Truckers. Another year, it was the Monkees, I think.

But this year was different. Not only was someone playing while we were in town, it was Lucinda Williams. On my birthday, no less.

Now that circumstances were finally conspiring in my favor, the question being put to me was, Well old man, are you going to go to the show or not? I’m 59 years old, you see.

But Lucinda’s 63, so where do I get off wussing out?

I always feel bad for traveling musicians, even those with a bit of fame. Because despite that fame and the odd appearance on Austin City Limits, they still have long hours of travel, and the “joy” of playing in little shithole towns.

So, God only knows what Lucinda may have thought of Dewey. I wasn’t sure what I’d think of it, since I rarely spent more than few minutes driving through it. And only during the daytime.

But it’s different at night. During the day, the B&C is closed up like a coffin, but at night it’s wide open, and the partially open air setting, along with the thankfully cooler air, added to the party mood.

So it was worth it to see the look on her face when she and her band came out on stage. She broke out into a big grin when she saw hundreds of folk primed and ready to see her.

Oh, and did I mention that the Bottle and Cork is a BAR? Well, I did, but it bears repeating since it’s really about a dozen little bars strewn about all around where the crowd stands. So a cold beer was always within arm’s reach. And for those with short arms, there were waitresses walking through the crowd with buckets of beer and trays full of jello shots.

To which Lucinda said approvingly, “Make way!”

Anyway, I don’t know if she did her standard set or if she modeled it to the crowd and the place, but the theme was unrequited love (lust, really) and low down dirty rock n’ roll. And the crowd - my age and older, and a good mix of gay and straight, but in various states of drunkenness - was down for it. The women, especially, were loving it.

And it made me wonder if this was what it was like to live out in the country and have, say, Bessie Smith come to town.

Lucinda’s such a great songwriter that it’s easy to forget what a great singer she is. That little quaver in her voice that I love so much took the night off, because this night she was a belting it out. It was a joy to see her just lean back and wail.

And she’s such a pro that, just when you think she seems on the verge of losing control, she still lands on the exact right note every time.

So, like I said, the set was made up mostly of rockers, with a good chunk of songs from Car Wheels On a Gravel Road. But she didn’t forget my favorite - “Crescent City” - from her third album, which is one of my all time favorites. It says something about a show that even though I have nothing by LW since 1998’s Car Wheels, I still enjoyed every song.

And to make sure we knew where she was coming from, during the finale “Joy” her guitar player threw in the riff from Led Zeppelin’s “Heartbreaker”.

The encore opened with the Clash’s “Should I Stay or Should I Go?”, a song I’ve always hated because it seemed like such a compromise for them.  But Lucinda owned it. The theme all evening was romantic discord, so it suited her and the moment perfectly.  Now everyone please stop playing the Clash version.

Anyway, it’s good to know that one can still be in the middle of nowhere (apologies to Dewey for the provincial attitude I’m now shedding), basically roll out of bed, drive five minutes and then stroll into the greatest rock and roll bar in the world to see a great singer and songwriter.

Now that I’m back in the big metropolis I doubt I’ll be so lucky next time.

“Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Chasin’ the Coltrane:

Another record I found in Roommate Mike’s-Record-Collection-Partly-Inherited-From-His-Uncle was History of the Saxophone” a three (five?) record anthology of saxophone music, which I now regret never listening to, and can't find on allmusic.com.

So it should have come as no surprise that when I asked him what his favorite musical instrument was, he would say “saxophone”.  (What? Not GUITAR?  The answer should ALWAYS be guitar!  Write that down, everybody!)

Anyway, there goes another shingle from the roof of my insular little world. And the resulting leak might have been what led me to eventually get Kind of Blue, my first jazz album, and the many others that followed.

Not that I'd notice for a while, but there was this guy who played saxophone on KOB named John Coltrane, whose name I'd eventually remember because of the several prior occasions when I saw people walking around with armloads of records. Never one record. Always an armload.

So my curiosity got the best of me, and over the years I'd get a number - an armload, really, except they're all on CD - of records by him, or at least, with him, like:

Miles Davis’ Round About Midnight and Milestones, Thelonious Monk at Carnegie Hall, and his own Blue Train, Giant StepsLive at the Village Vanguard, My Favorite Things, and A Love Supreme, which are all worthwhile, and some stupendous.

Another motivation for getting these records was hearing a song by him on the radio that was so damned good that I've been searching for it ever since.  I believe the song had the word, "train" in it, which led me to get "Blue Train", and Village Vanguard ("Chasin' the Train"), neither of which is the song I'm looking for. But I'm not really disappointed.

But did I really need another Coltrane? Especially one that has several songs I already had?  Depends what you mean by need.  Sometimes you don’t know what you need until you get it. But amazon $5 mp3s can be very persuasive.

And this one had bonus tracks, too, so I was sold.




John Coltrane: Afro Blue Impressions (Recorded 1963, Released 1973)

This is post-Miles and Monk, but pre-A Love Supreme, and here he takes several songs I’m already familiar with and begins his journey to outer space with them. But not too far out - I consider it a little mellower than Village Vanguard - but enough to make it interesting.

Which means this record now has some of my favorite versions of these tunes.

The sound is superb, and McCoy Tyner gets to shine, too.  This expanded version runs over two hours and that time just flies.

Admittedly, for a non-jazz fan, it might seem a bit repetitive, but since I've been hooked for a while, and have visions of having a John Coltrane Day at my house and playing all of the above records all day long on September 23, his birthday.

And no, that song I'm looking for is not here. But that's okay. I'll find it someday.

So here’s another journey by this, at first troubled, but then humble, courageous and deeply spiritual man.  It’s a privilege to ride along on.

A-

“Lonnie’s Lament”

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Against Masterpieces

I find myself less than impressed with “masterpieces” and “classics” these days. They leave me kind of cold. I’m finding more pleasure in the simple “really good record”.  Which is an album that may be limited in some way, but that provides substantial pleasure, nonetheless.

Like that friend of yours who'll never win a MacArthur Fellowship, but is nonetheless pretty sharp, and fun, too.

So while I may look at my spreadsheet and see any number of albums that have gotten a lot of mentions from various Best of the Year/Decade polls, I also see genres that I’m either tired of, or that can only provide a limited amount of pleasure to the geezer I am now.

Or records that I suspect will impress me with their skill but leave me uninspired or a little down. Which is not to say I don’t like being depressed, just do it well. Mean to do it instead of just ending up doing it because I find you kind of, well, depressing.

So that’s why this record is such a pleasure:



That Petrol Emotion: Babble (1987)

So how did I come across these guys? Well, they were lurking in that spreadsheet but with not as many mentions as some other records I’ll not name (or buy).

I had heard about them back in the eighties. That is a cool name, after all. But since I’d never gotten to hear an actual song I relegated them to the “bands with a clever name and not much else” category.

It turns out that they have an actual history. They rose from the ashes of the punk band the Undertones (another band I’ll have to check out now).  TPE, though, evolved their sound into mostly mid to fast-tempo rock and roll, with lots of chunky guitars and a voice that shouldn’t work, but does. And there’s more melody than one would typically find in such a mix.  The formula is pretty consistent throughout. And why not? It works.

They’re an Irish band that’s darker and rockier than U2. Thank god.

And while no one song completely bowls me over, every single one makes me smile.

At the risk of damning it with faint praise, I'll say that, overall, this a very, very good record.

So the lesson here is to forget about those “masterpieces” and just try to track down those “really good records”.

And who knows?  After a few years, what will I think of it? Will it stay the same in my estimation, or will my affection for these songs continue to grow?  In other words, will I say:
Oh, yeah, that’s a really good record? 
Or
Wow, that’s a masterpiece?  

Who knows?

Who cares?

After all, that friend who actually does win the MacArthur Fellowship is a little too full of himself anyway.

A-

“Swamp”

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Mixtape

The Little Plastic Vinyl Case:

We recently had some major renovations done, and in the course of throwing some things away and losing others, you also find some things.

Like an old, tiny vinyl carry case containing a bunch of cassettes. Some tapes were pre-recorded albums and the rest were “mixtapes”.


1963 PB (Pre-Beatles, or Pretty Boring):

If you asked me - at age 6 - what I liked, I might have answered toys or games. I would not have said girls or music.

Why would I like music? Perry Como, Andy Williams and their ilk dominated TV variety shows and I was too young for Elvis to make an impression on me.

And since both of my parents were from Ireland, the only music coming out of the Victrola was by Paddy Noonan, Bridie Gallagher or Mary McGonigle, who, in retrospect, are very good. But not at the time.

So neither television nor the living room was providing any musical inspiration.


Instant Gratification: AM Radio 1964-1969:

And how could it, especially when the Beatles finally arrived?

From 1964 on, turning on the radio meant instant gratification. You’d hear the radio playing on someone’s stoop, or from a passing car. But it always sounded great.

And in the rare moment when you didn’t like what you heard on WABC, you’d simply switch to WMCA and you’d be fine.


Singles:

But as good as radio was, you’d still buy your favorite singles. And when you had enough of them, you and your friends would play them - one after the other - on the stoop with your portable turntable. (I once saw a bunch of older kids marching down Fifth Avenue with their portable turntable in their arms playing a single as they went.  Sooo cool!)

To me, these hours-long singles sessions were the beginnings of the mixtape. We had begun to program our music.


FM:

By 1970 AM radio was getting increasingly frustrating, and the cool kids were moving to FM. But by its very nature it was more exploratory. So for each heavy revelation, there’d be at least a few minutes of boredom.  So we hadn’t given up on AM. Yet.


Albums:

But we were getting into albums by then. But albums - because of their variety of tone - often played better in the solitude of your bedroom than on the stoop or at a party.

So who could resist the urge to take the best of everything and put it all together in one place?


The Beach, or the Mixtape is Born:

By the mid-seventies, while others were still bringing radios to the beach, I’d already switched to just a tape player. I was doing my damnedest to minimize the chance of something awful coming on.

But if you did this, the music had to be energetic. It couldn’t be too slow or too mellow.

Oh, you could get away with middle period Beatles (Revolver, Rubber Soul) later in the afternoon when everyone was getting a little mellow anyway, but otherwise, that music had to move. And flow.

It was pretty challenging because we were no longer agreeing on what music was great.


When I Was Your Age!:

I can finally say that now.  But not about walking to school in the snow, or being without Netflix.

I’m saying it because, back then, it was a pain in the ass to make a mixtape.

At first, you’d simply play a record and try to record it with a microphone, and hope your mom didn’t shout for you to come down for dinner. Thank god they started putting in plugs so you could connect directly to the source.

But it still usually took about 3 hours to do a 90-minute tape. You had to have the right connections between your stereo and your tape player.  If you were very lucky, the tape player would record everything at the same volume. If not, you were subject to the sudden drops and rises in volume from song to song, based on how they were recorded and mastered.

If you were very lucky you had a pause button, which helped you edit out the sound of the tone arm being raised or dropped. Which could otherwise sound like a car crash.


Mixtape as Art: 

But that was the mechanics of it.  Once you had that down, you could do a fairly amateurish tape which had songs you liked in the order you happened to place them on the tape, and that ended simply when you ran out of room on it.

If you were lazy you wouldn’t worry about how much space was wasted at the end of each side. If you were like me (ie, didn’t have a girlfriend) you spent time on such things.

On the other extreme, you would try to build a sequence that naturally segued from one song to the next, and there would be a flow to the entire tape, hopefully with it ending in some sort of climax.

This required the math to calculate how much you could fit on the tape - and on each side of the tape, too.  Which meant editing on the fly when you got it wrong.


Aesthetic Differences:

I didn’t like it when someone would go to the trouble of putting a very popular song on a mixtape. Why go to that trouble when you were likely to hear it on the radio anyway?

There was a bit of snobbery at work here, too. If it was popular, I probably hated it.

So you’re songs had to:

  • Not be overplayed
  • Be recognizable, or at least very very catchy
  • Have decent sound quality, either in volume or overall dynamics.



Tapes Lost:

But then you get married and have kids and who has time for all that?

And there were a lot of tapes that were lost or went down with the cars.

I can think of dozens of songs that made it onto those tapes that have since been lost. This is a real shame because by then the whole pacing thing got easier. But I’d have to have the original playlists to put them back together.

Old, lost tapes, I salute you!


Tapes Found:

But I did find that vinyl case, and a few tapes survived.

The first one - from about 1987 - was pretty simple: All REM. It was relatively easy to make because it consisted almost entirely of  Chronic Town and Murmur with smatterings of later albums added and edited in along the way.  And all coming from vinyl.

And it still sounds very good.

But even I realized we couldn’t just listen to REM all day, so I’d made another one, which also survived.  And after almost thirty years, it holds up pretty well. I made it in about 1989, and reflects what we were listening to at the time, so it’s almost all music from the 1980s as opposed to “eighties music”.

I tell people I hated the 80s. Mrs. Jaybee says I'm full of sh*t. This tape is proof that we're both right. This tape is virtually hit-free! Just a bunch of relative obscurities that made the decade bearable for me.  This one must have been made in the fall. It just sounds that way.

David Bowie - “TVC15”, from Station to Station, which we’d only recently gotten. This is such an infectious song and a perfect opener. Never has Bowie been so damned playful.

The Bangles - “September Gurls”, from Different Light. This is the song that pretty much defines the tape.  El got Different Light for Christmas that year and this is probably the most Beatle-y cut of a very Beatle-y album. Very pretty and autumnal, naturally. I heard this before I ever heard the bonkers Big Star version. And the beat is ever so slightly faster than “TVC15”.

Neil Young - “Hold On To Your Love”, from the much-maligned Trans. I had the weird experience of hearing this for the first and second time in public on the very same day - once in a record store in Manhattan and then again that night at Adventureland in Long Island. I found it so pretty I had to have the album. I should have - and may have originally - put this before the Bangles given the slightly sci-if sound, but beat wise it’s in the right place.

The B52s - “She Brakes for Rainbows”, from Bouncing off the Satellites.  Continuing the spacey theme. But not as kooky as you’d expect from the 52s. Sweet, melodic, forgiving.

‘Til Tuesday “Voices Carry” – Probably the only hit here. A good segue from pretty to ominous. Aimee Mann’s voice and the 80s synthesizer are not embarrassing at all.

The Rolling Stones - “Child of the Moon” - Don’t know why I forced this one in here. Probably because it’s got that lovely guitar and melody.  It probably should have gone after the Bangles.

‘Til Tuesday - “Maybe Monday” because I did such a lousy job with the editing, I cut off a second or two of the beginning and this just explodes at the start. My favorite song by them.

U2 – “In God’s Country” - The guitar here picks up from where “Child of the Moon” left off but what the hell. And for once, I can take them without a grain of salt. It’s pretty enough and fast enough to carry the weight Bono puts on it. And with some memorable phrases, (Punch a hole right through the sky...every day the dreamers die...Sad eyes,crooked crosses, in God's country.) It almost makes me cry.

The Replacement’s great one-two punch from Let it BeSatisfied/Seen Your Video”. The first with the brilliant acoustic guitar intro, loud bang, shout to get things rolling, and great vocal.

And then “Seen Your Video” to take it out with a little comedy and a lot of rock and roll. It  starts off with a minute of a sleak show-business-y instrumental theme, and then changes to a rockier, guided-missile theme, and then, finally, the words arrive to tell you they’ve seen your video (you’re another band, you see) and they hate it. (Seen your video! Your phony rock and roll! We don’t wanna know!) Just what I wanted to hear in the mid-eighties

The B-52s “Wig” from Bouncing off the Satellites and one of the best tracks of the 80s, off of one of their lesser known but still quite good records. Never has a record started off so completely off-kilter and random and ended so focused and powerful. Along the way it gets funny, and then, between Fred’s and Kate’s vocals, builds and builds until the drumming – which seemed goofy at the beginning – is now joined by some power chords to bring it all to a stunning close.

And now from the ridiculous to the sublime, Kate Bush -” Hounds of Love” – from The Whole Story My favorite KB song. The dynamics on this are wonderful. It opens with someone announcing “It’s coming! Through the trees!” And the drums make me believe him. And it turns out to be Kate - or at least her voice - swooping down from heaven, and then sweeping back up again. Whatever religion this is, I’m joining it.

And that's it for side one.



Side Two:

Blondie “Picture This” One of the many gems on Parallel Lines. Debbie Harry is one of the realest singers ever in that she sings like people talk. Oh Yeah!!!!

The Divinyls - “Don’t You Go Walking” from What a Life! - So the Divinyls came and went and somehow we got their second album, supposedly not as good as their first.  So why do I think side one is one of the best of the decade? Which is why I put almost all of it on this tape, minus the actual hit, of course.  This one is kinda fast and kinda loud.

“ Good Die Young” They slow it down a bit but add emotion and it’s wonderful

“Sleeping Beauty”, and even slower, even more emotion,

“Motion”, okay, enough of all that. Now it’s back to fast and loud and not so much a vocal as a roar. A great, great rocker.

Peter Gabriel “Red Rain” - I don’t know. I guess I should have ended the tape with the Divinyls. Now I have nowhere to go but back down from here. So I start over with my third favorite PG song. A nod to Prince maybe?

Human Switchboard - “Who’s Landing in My Hangar?” Yeah, just try finding this album. So we go from the lush “Red Rain” to the plain tacky “Hangar”, but it’s worth it for the title alone, but also because of that rough guitar and messy farfisa organ.

The English Beat - “Best Friend” The first of two absolute classics by the Beat. The first, with a twelve string electric guitar combined with speeded up ska.

“Two Swords” - This time, punk guitar and ska. Intense and heartfelt. Two swords slashing at each other, only sharpen one another, and in the long run even he’s your brother…

Talking Heads “Pulled Me Up” This song answers the question What if Psychokiller (the prior cut on Talking Heads '77 was brought up right? Never has gratitude ever been quite so… scary.

The Eagles “Tryin”, courtesy of Randy Meisner, back when fame and cocaine hadn’t yet gone to their heads. A fine rock and roll song.

Joe “King” Carrasco and the Crowns “Don’t Bug Me Baby” from their first record. Joe takes up the mantle of Doug Sahm and Sam the Sham, but adds amphetamines. So we go out on one of the great themes of Western Civilization, at least from the male point of view. But then again, there’s no reason a woman couldn’t sing this song, too.

So that's it. Probably my favorite mixtape of all.  But there are others.

You've been warned.

Saturday, August 6, 2016

World History Project, or Ahh Bach!, Part One:

Sometimes I think I’m overestimating my capacity to hear new music.

It would be nice to think - like I once did - that there is no theoretical reason for me to not like any CD, something unless there was definitely something wrong with it. In other words, I should have been able to go to any genre and enjoy whatever was good in that genre.

I remember borrowing a CD of Armenian folk music from a co-worker and enjoying it. (Even he didn’t like it that much.)

But my musical arteries seem to be hardening.  I’ve come to find I like hip hop (and dance music and dubstep and electronica and...) only so much.


It’s Not Them:

Now, I’ve been hearing complaints about “those young people with their crazy music” since I was six years old, which was fine. At that time, they were talking about me.  But now it’s us talking about them.

To hear someone my age say it is pretty disheartening. After all, he/she probably went through the same degree of non-acceptance from his/her parents as I did, and should have been a little more aware when he found himself saying the same thing.

So I’ve been on the lookout for such non-acceptance for decades now.  And I’ve been pretty successful at keeping it at bay. Even when I ended up not loving something, I was smart enough to not dismiss it because there were lots of people who did love it. For you algebra fans (come on, I know you’re out there!) x number of y fans can’t be wrong, can they?  Well, technically, they can. I’ve heard some  terrible popular music, but I’m not going to let that distract me from the good.)

The bottom line is that those young people love that crazy music, so who am I to say it’s bad? What’s bad is my ability to absorb the constant changes music seems to go through.


It’s Me:

So I’m just like you and need to retrench sometimes.

So, what is my solution to this problem?

Why, going into the Past for music that I should be theoretically capable of understanding/enjoying,
Unfortunately, I’ve been hitting some of the same barriers here that I hit with current pop music: liking it but only so much.

My timing couldn’t be worse, either. Springtime is usually the best time to hear something energetic (loud) and joyful (guitars) and in a genre that’s close to one’s heart to begin with. And something brand new would be preferable. It makes you feel part of the present, and optimistic about the future.

I didn’t always know this. I’d tried Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos – gotten in the heat of summer -  and quickly put aside for the Velvet Underground.  It wasn’t bad, mind you, but I just preferred “Sweet Jane” in the heat of July to Concerto Number Two, which is pretty good, by the way.


Sensory Deprivation Chamber:

Adding to the general musical malaise was a general malaise malaise (hmmm, maybe one has something to do with the other?) and didn’t feel up for much of anything anyway.

So I decided I’d enter the old SDC.  And instead of energetic and loud, all I wanted was quiet.  Not nothing, mind you. Just something really really quiet.

And so the World History Project couldn’t have come along at a better time.  It just so happened that I was up to (really past) the Benedictine Monks (c. 800) and Monteverdi (c. 1638).

Originally, I found the Monks kind of boring and Monteverdi pretty good.  But now both records are so well suited to my mood.  Perfectly fine music for their time, they’re perfect for modern times when you’re feeling depleted.  I have to admit I never thought I’d be so depleted that the Chants would work for me, but there you go.

That’s how tired I am of new music. The chanting monks are sounding good!

But the WHP also brought me to another record that fit the mood:



Bach: Six Unaccompanied Cello Suites, Performed by Yo Yo Ma

This is one of Johann Sebastian’s earlier compositions (1717), and like the Monks and Monteverdi this is a 2 CD set. Who’da thought you could fill 2 entire CDs with just one guy - named after a toy - sawing away on what you and me and Jack Black all know is really a bass? They must have had all the time in the world back then.

Anyway, I won’t even try to describe this. The title really says it all. I’m too ignorant to note any huge changes of mood or tone. It all seems to stay in a zone of mild melancholy that I find to be so much fun these days.

Like those other times of depression when I could only handle Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and Selected Ambient Works 85-92, Vol 2, this one fits perfectly into that low-input frame of mind.

For a while, when I’d play this it would simply slip past me, because I was awaiting more sensory input.  But when you aren’t up to all that, this is perfect.

I won’t lie and say I absolutely love it. Something would have to enthrall me on a sustained basis to get that reaction.

But there must be a category of music representing what you normally wouldn’t immediately reach for, but under certain circumstances is fantastic.  In which case, this would be an A+.

For your first classical album, you could do a lot worse.

B+