Saturday, December 29, 2018

Disappointing Women

It’s a specialty of mine. (See what I did there?)

Been doing it all my life: Moms, sisters, girlfriends, wives, daughters, nieces, etc.

So it’s only fair that they get me back occasionally. And the difference is that at least when I’m the disappoint-ee, it’s because I've got something to learn.

So here are three learning experiences for me.



Speedy Ortiz: Foil Deer (2015)

They’re a foursome led by singer-songwriter Sadie Dupuis.

Vocally, you could easily mistake DuPuis for Liz Phair. But Sadie’s got better production values.

She’s smart and kind of intimidating like Liz, too. Where Liz was overtly sexual, you’d never know where you stood with Sadie.

She’s also got a better guitar player. Her music and lyrics are dense, and the melodies are pretty complicated. And like a boa constrictor, she’s persistent, slowly asphyxiating me with all that detail.

So it’s all a bit too gnarly for me. Which is why I prefer Liz.

And I just wish more songs were as good as “My Dead Girl”.

Soooo glad I’m not single.

B+

"My Dead Girl”



The Sleigh Bells: Treats (2010)

Loud, awkward, annoying. But never quite obnoxious. This twosome is like the awful couple you mistakenly invite over for dinner, and end up talking about for the next six months.

She sings like a five-year-old, reciting nursery rhymes. Except of course she’s twenty. He plays guitar like he’s throwing out the garbage - with the can - from a fifth-floor walk up.

But they wear you down, too. They just want to have a good time, and what’s wrong with you that you don’t?

What I’d completely missed until now is that they were signed by M.I.A.'s label. The Sleigh Bells are a rock and roll version of M.I.A. Not sure that would be considered a recommendation for older folk but there it is

The bottom line is they’re more like the neighbors on Modern Family - much smarter and daring than you ever gave them credit for.

But you still only invite them over once in a while.

B+

“Rill Rill”



St. Vincent: St. Vincent (2014)

This lady is way too arty/slick for me. Not production-wise. Just “I’ll do whatever I like and expect you to like it-wise. (And look at her sitting on her throne like that. Who she thinks she is!)

And yet Mrs. Jaybee and even son Michael like it. Me? I’m not sold on it just yet but there are a couple of fine moments.

There is a Talking Heads-ish vibe here, which is nice, but if I want that I'll put on Talking Heads.

Things don’t really take off until the sixth song. And the big ending helps, so I thought I’d get into the first half of the record, too, and that this would end up an A-.  But it just isn’t happening.

Good, just not very compelling.

B+


Now that I've pissed off at least half the population, let me remind you how much I liked Beach House, Waxahatchee and Lori McKenna.

But in the meantime, is Salman Rushdie's old rental available?


Wednesday, December 26, 2018

In the City, Without a Voice

I found myself listening to several records with little to no vocals, and I asked myself, “Well, how did I get here?”.

And the short answer is luck, because sometimes words are superfluous. With the right folks, it’s enough to just hang out.

But where?


First, Brooklyn:



Oneohtrix Point Never: Replica (2016)

Electronica usually has a pulse, but not always a heart. And while this one’s a bit colder than, say, Jon Hopkins, he's got his own kind of warmth. He’s like the friend who, while not very gregarious, is always there for you.

And just when I thought it might have been a little too forbidding, Mrs. Jaybee said, “put on the one with that great horn melody and the woman’s voice”.  Okay, she was conflating two songs but I didn’t even know that until I put it on again.

There’s a definite city vibe to this. Maybe a city of the future, like in Blade Runner but more optimistic.

You might occasionally feel you’re being pushed away, but you’re really just being asked to stop and listen.

A-

“Explain”


Manhattan:



Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue and An American in Paris
Leonard Bernstein, New York Philharmonic, Columbia Symphony Orchestra

A re-buy after the Jaybee-Roommate Mike record collection was breached. We were young and smart and just came off the (then) high of seeing Manhattan.

There’s really nothing to say about this unless you’re familiar with more than one recording and have a preference.

This is essential music from the first half of the 20th century and if you don’t like it, I feel very, very sorry for you.

A

“Rhapsody in Blue”


London:


Max Richter: Infra (2010)

Max hit our radar after Mrs. Jaybee picked up the soundtrack to Shutter Island. Compiled by Robbie Robertson it is a tour de force of atmospherics that is mostly drowned out by the movie itself.

One of the two cuts supplied by Richter is used for the closing credits and it is stunning.

For unrelated reasons, I recently decided to watch The Leftovers, a show that Mrs. Jaybee sometimes hated. She loved the music though. And it was done by guess who?

So I ran across an ad for a concert by Max Richter, performing music from The Leftovers, so Mrs. Jaybee and I were all in.

And not leaving well enough alone (thank god) he also included this piece, commemorating the bombing of the London subway in 2005.

As Mrs. Jaybee stated, we’ve never been at a concert with such a well-behaved audience. Everyone was rapt, taking in every note.

Like the show, on this record, Max is accompanied by a small group of musicians. Three violins, two cellos, and himself on keyboards. It’s also sometimes overlaid with the sound of transmissions from the subway.

Max’s music (what we’ve heard at least) is pretty simple and it appeals - without shame - to your emotions. My recommendation is that you go with it.

A

“Infra 5”



The Big Country:

While a lot of friends of ours have gone to the suburbs, a long time ago, Mrs. Jaybee and I realized we were city people.

And while the city has its obvious bad points, it's who we are.



Sunday, November 25, 2018

Message from the Country

“I didn’t know you liked country music so much,” says Mrs. Jaybee.

Which translates into “If I knew you liked country music so much…”

But I don’t. I really don’t.

I’m just another holdover from that time when rock 'n roll did Nashville one better by subtracting the glitz and making better country music. Yeah, I know that’s not fair or true, but we had Bob Dylan, the Grateful Dead, and the Flying Burrito Brothers, so we didn’t think we needed George Jones, Merle Haggard or Dolly Parton.

But these days, unless you’re into Alt-Country, you take your rock 'n roll, hold the country thank you very much.

So I don’t even try to get Son-and-guitar-player Michael into it. Forget about Daughter-and-Broadway-Baby Tess. (See above for Mrs. Jaybee.)

I was even beginning to think I didn’t like it either. When I dipped into it, I got very mixed results. I really liked Kacey Musgroves, I was left unimpressed by Miranda Lambert and Brad Paisley.

Or rather, their omnipresent pedal steel guitars put me off for years. They pour it on like ketchup (and I like ketchup). It’s only now when I play those records (at work, of course) that I enjoy their energy and smarts.

So I waited a good long while before dipping my toe back in the pool. But I finally did and it seems the water’s fine.



Jason Isbell: The Nashville Sound (2017)

Yet another singer-songwriter, I thought. When I’m just not feeling it, it’s because I’m mistaking my own tired and limited imagination for what I should be happy to encounter - someone else’s. So I waited a while.

But a singer-songwriter would be better than a country music singer, right? How about an ex-member of the Drive-by Truckers?  Now we’re talking.

Since leaving the Truckers, he’s put out a few solo records. And now he’s got a band - The 400 Unit - to help put his songs across. His voice isn’t particularly strong, but his emotional delivery and empathetic lyrics really hit the mark.

I grudgingly admitted that this was a (just another) good record, ho-hum. But when I actually put it on I find I’m impressed by every single song, every single time.

Isbell confronts the world and his own part in it and doesn’t always love what he sees. But he doesn’t whine about it. He’s mature enough to know he owes something to his fellow man and woman.  Imperfect as he is, he’s going to try.

And he likes to rock, too. So what if on “Anxiety” he tries to sound like the Beatles (I Want You) and fails? That’s forgivable. I’m anxious, too. On “Cumberland Gap” he tries to sound like Springsteen and succeeds.

A

“Cumberland Gap”



Lori McKenna: The Bird and the Rifle (2016)

Unlike Isbell, McKenna lands pretty squarely on country, but she leaves the pedal steel at the door.

Like Isbell, she doesn’t limit herself to the personal, but she does keep to her hometown and finds the universal there.

There’s maybe one song that isn’t slow to mid-tempo. And that’s okay because McKenna uses the time to nail her vocals, lyrics and melodies.

It’s a relief that her ripe quavering voice isn’t the incoming missile we’ve come to expect from country divas. It’s just perfectly built to put these songs across.

And what songs they are! She makes every word count, dissecting doomed relationships or guiding younger women away from her own mistakes.

The melodies aren’t innovative or spectacular but they never settle for the ordinary. They always find another turn, either down or up or sideways that gives you more than you expected.

And when you put all this together it’s even better than Kacey Musgraves, and maybe even Jason Isbell.

A

“Halfway Home”


I'm happy to report there is nothing on either of these records I have to try to like. They are unmistakably country, but not tied down by it.

Which is kind of what made the country music by Dylan, the Dead and the Burritos so great.

Jason and Lori, welcome to the club.


Saturday, October 27, 2018

World History Project: Haydn In Plain Sight

As you may recall, the World History Project is my pathetic attempt to make sense of the world via history, literature, movies and even music.

It started out sometime in the 1980s as a way to better understand literature by reading it chronologically. Figuring that reading the “great novels” was the way to go, I started out with Don Quixote, which was written around 1600.

Over the next fifteen years or so I made it up to the late 1800s and was reading Samuel Butler’s The Way of all Flesh on  9/11, at which point I decided I needed to know more about the world - and what led us to that moment - than I did. 

So I decided to start over - this time including history - and started from around 3000 BC. I read the Bible and histories of Asia, Greece, the Middle East, Rome, and Europe. I threw in a few philosophy and art books for good measure.

Along with way, I got the idea that, since I’m enough of a music nerd to occasionally “recycle” my records, why not do it along with the WHP? It’s just like me to take an already unwieldy idea and make it more so.

Adding music would have absolutely no significance until I got to around 800 AD, when I played Chant, which is the earliest music I have.

It’s now seventeen years since “The Great Reset”. So where am I?

Well - as is usually the case with me - it’s complicated.


Don’t Know Much About History!:

Once I included history I had to figure out some practical things, like when different history books covered overlapping time periods, how should I read them? One at a time, from beginning to end, no matter how far into the future it goes, or switch from one to the other when I got to a year that is picked up by another book? I ended up going with a version of the latter.

An extreme version of this would mean jumping from one book to another as soon as I got up to a date that other book covers. Since some books are very general and others very specific (A People's History of the World vs. The Day Kennedy was Shot, say), this might mean stopping in mid-paragraph in the more general book, to move on to and read another book from start to finish before finishing that paragraph in the first book, maybe months later.

This can get really silly really fast and end up defeating the whole purpose of WHP, which was to let one book strengthen my understanding of another by adding context. So I’ve made some compromises.

I’ll start with the more general book, and then get gradually more specific. When I’m reading the general book and get to a point covered by a more specific book, I’ll at least read to the end of the chapter or section, before making the jump.

Another issue has to do with dealing with different branches of history, (i.e., American vs. European vs. Middle Eastern, etc). Sometimes they intersect and sometimes they don’t. When they don’t seem to, I’ll stick with one branch through the more hectic periods - say, the American Revolution - and then, once things calm down, move onto another branch, like the French Revolution. And yes, I know they do intersect but I had to draw the line somewhere.

Where does this leave me?


America:

I finished Robert Remini’s The Jackson Era which puts me at about 1837

I’m partly through Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States, Alistair Cooke’s America, Alex Haley’s Roots and Lawrence Levine’s Black Culture and Consciousness.

I’m on pause, catching up with European history before I delve into the American Civil War.


The Middle East:

This is getting short shrift for now, with me only reading Albert Hourani’s A History of the Arab Peoples and Paul Johnston’s A History of the Jews, with me resting at the early 1800s.


Europe: 

I’ve been relying on several of my college textbooks to get the overview. 

I then doubled back to Europe and England and covered the French Revolution. I just finished the fantasy fiction (and slightly disappointing) Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke, and working on The Charterhouse of Parma by Stendahl, which is a lot better (i.e., funnier) than The Red and the Black. I'm more or less in 1820.


Ireland:

I was just getting some traction in Europe when - inspired by a trip to Ireland - I decided I had been neglecting my heritage. I decided to learn more about its history, when meant going all the way back to about 500BC. I’m up to when St Patrick arrives, which is around 432. And no, there wasn’t a parade.

My plan was to catch up to 1800 or so and then get back to Europe, when my neighbor threw out a book about the Catholic popes. Then I started hearing good things about The Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar, which is now my current read, circa 130 AD.

I appear to be going in the wrong direction.


Art:

I’ve been getting by with Janson’s History of Art and Michael Bird's 100 Ideas That Changed Art. I’m up to the early 1800s.


Music:

As ridiculous as this all sounds, my going backward in time has given me some breathing room to catch up on some classical music I’d previously missed.

The late 18th century was a pretty hectic time history-wise as evidenced above. On top of those convulsive events, there were several musical geniuses emerging. I’ve already covered Mozart in my singularly uninformative way, and will be getting to Beethoven soon.

At the moment I’m enjoying Joseph Haydn.

Haydn: The London Symphonies, Nos. 93,94,97, 99, 100, 101


Moe and Larry, I mean, Mozart and Beethoven called him the grand old man. And anyone who can crank out over a hundred symphonies deserves respect. 

But as much at Mozart and Beethoven liked him, he’s just not quite on their level. But that’s like saying Big Star wasn’t quite the Beatles. So what?

If Bach is, say Chuck Berry, and Mozart is the Beatles, then Haydn is probably Elton John, just on output alone. I mean, look at the Symphony numbers here!  Over a hundred?  That’s pretty impressive. Even if they sucked, who would go to all that trouble?

And let’s not get into whether or not anyone, including the musicians - and Haydn - can really tell Symphony number 63 from 36. Does the violinist sit there playing thinking hmmm, this sounds an awful lot like the last one to me...

And it doesn’t suck. It’s stately and grand. Not exciting grand, or beautiful grand, just well, grand-grand. Like Bach, it’s neither obnoxious nor forbidding. I can’t say I love it, but it’s hard to dislike it. Is that also an Elton John parallel?

So there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this music. I guarantee if you put it on, you’ll kind of like it. It’s almost fun-nish, but you will feel like you should be dressing a little better. (Not and EJ parallel.)

So put it on for company to show you’re classy.

B+

Once I’m done with Hadyn, I’ll be at about 1794, music-wise. Then I can jump to Beethoven, who I’m beginning to think, based on temperment, was the Phil Spector of his era.

So, on Hadrian! On Pope Pius! On St. Pat! I’ve got to catch up to be only 200 years behind!

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Summer Great, Summer Not As Great

"Summer of ‘18" doesn’t quite have the ring of “Summer of 69” - nor does it match up musically - but let’s face it, that was a tough summer to beat.

The short story is that Beach House owned this summer. Certainly the first cool, cloudy half.

It’s a shame that nothing else I got could quite overcome the oppressively hot, humid second half. (Nothing quite on the order of last year’s Whiteout Conditions by the New Pornographers.) On the other hand, I don't remember 1969 being as hot as our summers are now. I don't know if the music can possibly keep up with the climate.

So, to sum up, no masterpieces. But pretty good.

Let’s try to go in order of increasing order of what I'll call Fun-ness:


The two records in question are their shared EP with Huggy Bear and their first LP Bikini Kill.
This is the pre-Le Tigre Katherine Hanna. It may also be the start of the Riot-grrrls. So...Srkunch!!! 

There are words here, and lots of them are naughty. To sum them up, get the fuck out of my face. Understandable and appropriate - but not always fun - in the middle of August.

For now, I prefer the mellower, goofier Le Tigre.

But beneath the din of Kathleen Hanna’s ballsy (yes) yowl and lo-fi “production” there’s an earthy guitar tone that grows on you.

I'm grading tough now. Once the weather gets cooler - and now that we have a Justice Kavanaugh - I’ll be playing it a lot more.

B



Simply not as catchy as Majesty Shredding, and with the subject matter being what it is, doubly disappointing.  However, their overall sound provides a rush no matter what.

B+



Beck: Colors (2017)

After winning a Grammy, what does this edgy artist do? He goes pop.

Beck’s a real pro. He’s done hip-hop, folk, soul, electronica and now pop. He’s never bad, but sometimes it’s doubtful he’s got his heart in what he’s doing. And while it’s very catchy, he’s hiding behind a wall of pop. Well executed pop, but a wall nonetheless.

I’m a big fan of Mellow Gold (less so Odelay), Mutations/Sea Change/Morning Phase.

As Mrs. Jaybee says, he’s lost his edge.  

Not that Morning Phase had edge exactly, but it was fully committed to pretty, and he was willing to take the consequences.

We’re (and he’s) a long way from “Loser”.

B+


Although he’s produced some of my favorite records, Bowie hasn’t interested me very much musically since 1980. 

He started out pop and rock-savvy and ended up being willfully harsh. Halfway through he hit a sweet spot of weirdness and joy - I’m going to say it was Low - but the inspiration slowly faded as the harshness set in. And his ned to be provocative - but without the requisite musical invention to back it up - that has him coming up short here.

The highlights are the opening and closing cuts, the latter especially affecting as he closes some of the distance he usually maintained with us.

It’s far from his best but I’ve got to hand it to him for going out his way.

B+




Two discs, each pretty long, and made up of the same album, just recorded at different times. So there’s a lot to slog through here.

The first is Will Toledo’s original 2011 lo-fi version of the album. The second is his 2018 re-recording, this time with a band and actual recording studio.

I was spoiled by Teens of Denial, which features Will Toledo the rocker who wrote consistently tuneful, rousing songs. Teens of Style - his earlier record - has the same level of inspiration tunewise, but whose thin sound accentuated Will’s nasally voice - and worse - his tendency/need to shout above the noise.

All the elements are here on both discs. The first one does have the limitation of so-so sound. And also in Car Seat Headrest fashion, too many songs end abruptly depriving one of a true climax.  The second disc smooths over some of these rough spots.

There’s no denying the several rousing moments, but he's asking for a lot of time, and I ain't got it.

B+




Slower tempos than Liege and Lief, but with more humor, via several then-obscure Dylan covers. One in French!

The tragic “Percy’s Song” (although Arlo Guthrie’s passionate version is still my favorite) is followed by the hilarious “Million Dollar Bash”, and on the 2003-digital-remaster, a nice, soulful “Dear Landlord”. The peak is Sandy Denny’s very own masterpiece “Who Knows Where the Time Goes”.  And although I still love the majestic Judy Collins version, this one wins out on sheer wonder.

A-



This duo is from - you guessed it! - Mali. Both of them blind, but doing fine, thank you very much. They probably would have been quite happy just making music in Africa, but managed to catch the attention of some well-meaning white people. I'd normally say RUN!, but it apparently got them exposed to a wider audience.

So this is definitely a crossover album, but still Malian enough. 

So what do they bring to the table? A growling electric guitar, for one, and excellent vocals. And some strong production.

And the momentum -bringing us through all fifteen songs - is undeniable.

A-



There are the records that try to hit you over the head on first listen, like Superchunk's Majesty Shredding.

And there are other records that are more patient. They lay out one excellent song after another, expecting you to notice after a while. 

Then there are those very good double albums that could have benefitted from a nip and a tuck here and there, to get it down to a great single.  

But in these confusing times, some such albums like this one actually fit on a single CD.  Hmmm. So let’s call them generously spirited. 

Creation comprises 19 songs. And while it’s definitely not in that first category, it is in the second and third.  

The Truckers are a southern rock band with a dose of country. This time out I only notice a slide guitar on one song. And their rock is more 1970s Rolling Stones than Allman Brothers.

But the country is still strong, with both Mike Cooley and Shonna Tucker contributing several songs. But the main songwriter here is Patterson Hood. Both Cooley and Hood add the rock and roll, but where Cooley goes country, Hood goes introspective.

This one is not as raw and aggressive as their very good Decoration Day, but it has the edge over that record due to that patient, consistent one excellent song after another consistency.

A-

So this summer was short on instant gratification, but long on wisdom. I suspect some of these records will rise in my estimation given more time.

And God knows, in times like these, I'll need that.

What a time to be alive!





Saturday, August 25, 2018

Moe’s Art!

I kept hearing how great this guy was:

Image result for moe howard easel

And I agreed, initially. After all, how do you beat this?

Turns out they meant another guy:

Oh, Christ, I thought, classical music is so boring. I mean, they hardly ever poke Curly in the eye, do they?

But I soldiered on and learned a few things. But so did Classical Music. Like, Don’t Be Annoying.

I always hated how fussy sounding it could be. Everybody was so exact and specific. It’s the sound equivalent of a foppish guy in a wig raising his pinky while sipping his tea, all the while imagining he’s better than the servant who brewed it for him. So even when he’s having a good time taking in a sonata or two, and you can’t be happy for him.

So I just wished they’d all relax a little. Like on The Brandenburg Concertos, where you can imagine the orchestra taking a hit or two before starting, or that Vivaldi Mandolin Concerto where you can just make out the Heineken's at their feet. Okay, that's a stretch, but you get the idea - relaxed.

But when they’re serious, oh boy, look out. It’s like a lecture from your teacher. Or worse, your mom. So these obstacles have slowed my appreciation somewhat.


For instance, it’s taken thirty years to really get this record:


Mozart: Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (K. 525): Orpheus Chamber Orchestra  (1787)

Back in 1989, ex-friend Dan said that A Little Night Music was his favorite piece of classical music, which should have told me something.

But in typical Jaybee Record Store Trip fashion, I picked up this epitome-of-classical-musical along with the Replacement’s epitome-of-sloppy-rock n’ roll Tim.

So which one do you think I listened to more at the time, even with a baby in the house? It wasn’t even close. (And that wasn’t even the best one by the Mats…)

After all, the two artists couldn’t be more different:
  • One was by a snotty young genius with bad manners, and the other was, well…  
  • One celebrated juvenile jokes and the other, well…
  • One died young (a fate we all secretly wish on those we see as having too good a time…) and the other, well….
  • One created music that would ultimately be considered among the greatest of the era and the other would, well...
But no one would mistake Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart for Paul Westerberg (and no, Westerberg didn’t die, but guitarist Bob Stinson did. He was at least as wild as WAM) would they?

For all WAM’s proclivities, he’s long since been enshrined in the upper-class Museum of Why We’re Better Than Everyone Else.

Not so, the Replacements who’d take that bucket of black paint to the canvas.

But how are these records different? Well, one has guitars on it. The other doesn't, so I shelved it.

I have since gotten a few more opportunities to listen to it thanks to my World History Project, which is now up to 1787. And it's begun to grow on me. But first we had to get past that perky beginning, which is familiar so so many. I’ll take the second movement any day.

One good thing about classical albums is that they tend to throw in more than one piece in order to fill up the album. ALNM runs only about 15 minutes so there’s plenty of room for more. And that’s where this record really shines.

There's Divertimento en E flat major (K. 252 (240a) for those of you keeping score). And another one in D Major (K.131) both of which I like more than ALNM.

WAM knows how to fits in lots of melody without overdoing it. The violins don’t just play, they saw furiously to get in as many notes as can fit. And every one counts.

Like a tasty lead guitar with a couple of seconds here and there for fills.  Or even better, when they make the riff part of the overall structure.

Which is all I ask for, you know?

A-


And since I pretend to be open-minded I would eventually get some other records by Mozart, but in fact, a bunch of them just fell into my lap, like:


Sinfonia Concertante; Concerto in E-flat Major 
Concerto for Violin, Piano and Orchestra in D Major (c. 1777)

These two long pieces have got everything going for them, and the CD sounds great on headphones. The playing is excellent and they sound like they’re enjoying themselves. It's too fast for weed to explain, so I'm just going to assume lots of coffee.

A-



Sonata in A Minor K 310 (1778)

When I first saw the cover my deep animosity for the upper class made me think hey Alfred, get over yourself. But now I see him as thinking all right, we both know I kick ass on piano, so calm the f*ck down and we'll get this over with as quickly as possible.  And if you can get over that I gotta get dressed up to listen to this record feeling, you'll notice he skipped the tie and jacket, so I think he's trying to meet us halfway.

And this music is pretty serious sounding. (Hey, you, sit up straight!) But if you give Alfred a chance, you'll start to notice that it's worth listening to. It's not just serious for the sake of taking the joy out of your life. It's there to put some back in, so by the end you're cheering him on.

And when you really look at him leaning on the piano, you think maybe he's had a few himself. Hey Alfred, let me hold the rest of that six pack while you play!

And he also includes a few other pieces, like Fantasy in C Minor and Rondo in A Minor that are quite pretty.

My favorite part, though, is “Variations in D on a Minuet by Duport”, where Mozart comes up with  NINE different ways to show he's better than the original composer. So obnoxious, he might have been asked to join the Replacements. He'd only have to live two hundred more years.

A-


Dude even did an opera (or thirty). I got it at Costco for about $1. WAM must be having a laugh at that. Even Pleased to Meet Me cost more than that!


Die Entfuhrung Aus Dem Serail  (1782)

But it’s all right. As usual, there’s lots of energy and melody, like they’re all planning to have sex after the show.

B+



Piano Concertos 23 and 24 (1786?)

And there are these two piano concertos I’m just getting into. I waited a month to get this. I thought maybe they were digging up old Wolfgang for me. When I complained they sent me two copies, because that makes sense, right?

So I’m still just getting into them. If we wait until I figure them out we'll be here until they unfreeze him, so he can explain it all to us.

In the meantime...

Grade: TBD



Requiem: (1791)

And finally a Requiem, in anticipation of his death. And, as you’d expect, it ain’t perky.

I’m not big of Requiems as the singers seem to be having an even worse time than the Monks, who are kind of boring to begin with.

Rest assured, nobody’s having fun here.

It’s not like I wanted him to die or anything. All he had to do was chill. But he has to overdo even that.

B


But I do appreciate all of his wit, energy and invention.

So I say jump in and enjoy a guy who is almost as good as the Replacements, but maybe not as good as the Beatles.

Or Moe Howard.


Sunday, July 22, 2018

That Old Beach House of Ours

My family can never decide which BBQ place we like better - Dinosaur BBQ or Morgan’s. It always seems to be the one where we’re eating at the time.

So when I finally decided to take the plunge with the Baltimore duo Beach House - a band that’s been around since 2006 - I made up for lost time by taking two.

And now I keep jumping back and forth between the two, trying to decide which one is my favorite.

For a while, I couldn’t even tell which song was on which album. Then I developed a mental shorthand which told me if the production was lush, it was Bloom, and if it was weird and haunting it was Teen Dream.

And now after about twenty listens each I can I can finally tell which album a given song is from.

And after thirty listens each I think I can finally form an opinion.



Teen Dream (2010)

After being disappointed by Speedy Ortiz, going through genre fatigue with jazz and classical, and getting worn down by the news, it was nice to hear something gentle and a little weird.

Part of the weirdness is the sparse but spacious production and Victoria Legrand’s almost-baritone vocals. The effect is of being greeted at the entrance of a castle by a very old woman. You wonder who you’re going to meet there. Boris Karloff or Peter Boyle?

We end up with both, who are getting on well and talking about old times. So everyone ends up having a lovely time.

The overall atmosphere goes a long way, and makes up for the tunes not quite holding up to the very end. (But I’m listening to it right now and the tunes seem just fine. And maybe it's Bloom that's a bit too slick…)

But most importantly, it was just what I needed at the time.

A-

“Used to Be”



Bloom (2012)

Here they’re going for a more polished sound, so the weirdness factor has dropped a bit. But the melodies and singing are stronger.

Victoria Legrand’s voice fills up all that space, and the musical accompaniment by her and Alex Scally is spot on every time out.

I normally gravitate to weird since melody and production are often compromises. But if this is what compromise is I want more of it.

A


These grades are tentative and have a tendency to switch back and forth.

So which one is better? Well, that would be whichever one that’s playing right now.


Saturday, July 7, 2018

Don't Play That Song! Classic Rock Edition

We went to a local “bistro” (you know the kind, interesting sounding food, small portions, no tablecloth, too expensive).  In such a straight neighborhood, it was a relief to find something even slightly funky, though.

The service was friendly, and the atmosphere laid back. We were having a good time until we noticed how disappointing the music was. It wasn’t the awful Easy Listening a la Air Supply, etc., but it was a litany of the most overplayed hits of the seventies. Why, after all this time, are we still hearing this shit?

So I say that it’s time we made a list – the Don’t Play That Song list - and send it to every radio station on earth. Let’s start with Classic Rock, because it's been around so long now that the overplayed songs are especially grievous offenders. (Plus, I don’t know the names of the ones that aren’t Classic Rock.)

And lest you feel I’m picking on some otherwise worthy artists, allow me to explain that overplaying their hits is actually unfair to them. Every time you hear one of these songs you’re missing an equally good other song by that very same artist. Let’s not even get into other artists who deserved some of the limelight but never got it because the radio station was too busy playing... well, any of these songs for the 10,000th time.

Of course, there are some artists who sucked from the get-go and they're overplayed songs are the best they can manage.  They’re like your talkative aunt or strange uncle. We’re stuck with them, but we don’t go out of our way to see them.

The songs below are so well known I won’t even name the bands. And I offer some alternatives by those same artists. I’m NOT saying the alternatives are better (although in some cases they are), nor am I saying that the songs are bad (although some are).

C'mon, if you give this even two minute's thought, you could come up with your own list. Here’s mine:


The Obvious:

“Stairway to Heaven”:
No surprise here, really.  I’ve done such a good job of ignoring this song over the years, that it almost sounds okay again now.  But not quite.
Instead, try this one: “That’s the Way”

“Margaritaville”
I like Jimmy Buffett almost as much as the next drunk, but this well-written song is every sixty-something's excuse to not seek out a thousand other equally good songs.
Almost anything else by Jimmy deserves your attention.

“Free Bird”
This one is just too freaking long, especially the live version, the ending of which is ridiculous. If you’ve just got to request a song at a concert, show some imagination. Make it “Whippin’ Post”.
But if it’s got to be Skynyrd, make it “Whiskey Rock n Roller” or “Tuesday’s Gone”.


Less Obvious, Just as Annoying:

“Listen to the Music”
Please don’t.  It was 1972 and already a long way from the sixties. Ushering in an age of lowered expectations four years before Jimmy Carter. Not bad. Just a grim reminder of how uninteresting things can get.
“Without You” rocks a lot more, even if they were still waiting for a good singer to show up.

“Summer Breeze”
This one is so overplayed it literally hurts when it comes on. I still like the bridge, but the verse, chorus and guitar-riff take up too much collective space in our brains. Anyone who voluntarily plays it should be flogged.
“Ridin Thumb” is a weird little alternative.

By the way, these last two songs were played back to back at an otherwise wonderful seafood place in the Village recently.  (Yes, all my traumatic musical episodes occur while eating out.) Yet more crap followed so I came to suspect they were being ironic. We visited their sister restaurant a few years ago, where they had a knockout playlist of 60s music. What the hell happened?!

“Heart of Gold”
Et tu, Neil? How about “New Mama” from Harvest’s polar opposite Tonight’s the Night.

“I Wanna Be Sedated”
Yeah, it’s great, but as their commercial break through it allowed normal people to feel cool by liking them. There are dozens of other equally brilliant Ramones songs, and I can guarantee you won’t hear them at a wedding, like “Cretin Hop”. But just about anything from the first four albums would do.
But this relatively anti-social "Beat on the Brat" will do. (Don't worry, I played it around the kids and they turned out fine. Sort of.)

“Sultans of Swing”
Really? Again?
“Water of Love”

“You Better You Bet”
Come on.  This song kind of sucks. You know it. I know it.  The only reason we even know this song exists is because the Who did it.  It would never pass the If Someone Unknown Did It test.
Try just about anything before Tommy, Like “Relax”, from The Who Sell Out, which is, by the way, the greatest album of all time.  (Yeah, I said it.)

“Against the Wind”
Also, “Like a Rock”, or anything involving nature. Bob's a city boy, so let's go with his best song ever.
“Main Street”

“Refugee”
It sounded good the first time I heard it, okay the next second time. But that was it. The next 10,000 times occurred in the 80s, and it epitomizes all that’s wrong with Tom Petty.  He thinks he’s better than he is. He invests a lot of feeling in a pretty unoriginal song.
Go with most of “Full Moon Fever” or my favorite, “Shadow of a Doubt (Complex Kid)”

“Tempted”
Not anymore.
Try “Up the Junction”, which will rip your heart out.

“Tainted Love”
I'm breaking my rule here. This song sucked from the get-go, and the idea that anyone could extract any joy from it is beyond my comprehension. This is what they mean when they say that white guys have no rhythm. And I oughtta know.
The original - sung by a female - has more balls.


Repeat Offenders:

Billy Joel:
BJ manages a Trifecta here:
“Piano Man” - I can still get through it with the help of the words, but JESUS.
“It’s Still Rock and Roll To Me” - Pure BS (again, I ought to know) from someone who didn’t get punk/new wave.  He should stick to pop, which he’s actually good at.
“You May Be Right” – This one makes me sick.  I hate self-described “crazy” people. If you think you are, you’re not.  You're boring.
I could go on about “Just the Way You Are”, “Big Shot”, “Movin’ Out”. It just goes on and on.
Instead, try "Summer, Highland Falls", "And So It Goes", “James”, “I’ve Loved These Days” or this great one from Streetlife Serenade.

The Eagles:
Really, the entire Eagles oeuvre is pretty tired, except for some overlooked gems on the first three albums.  But the dead horses are:
“Take It Easy” - Good at the time, but I just can’t take it anymore.  I feel like I’m listening to the skeleton of a song.
“Lyin Eyes” - Basta!
“Life In the Fast Lane” - The only difference between Fast Laners and Low Lifes is money.
“Hotel California” I can admit now, after all these years, that this is not a bad song, but it isn’t nearly as good as it thinks it is.
I much prefer "Nightingale", "Tryin'" and "Bitter Creek".

Evil Jaybee says that any DJ who consciously puts on one of these songs really should be shot. The kinder, gentler Jaybee just wishes they’d find another line of work.

In looking at the above it’s amazing that there are no Beatles songs on it. I was about to say there are no Stones songs either, but I just thought of a few:
“Angie”
“Start Me Up”
“It’s Only Rock n Roll”
Which just goes to show it can happen to the almost best.

Instead, try anything before Beggar’s Banquet, like all of Aftermath. But there's also “Moonlight Mile”, “Lovin’ Cup”, “You’ve Got the Silver”, "Before They Make Me Run", and what may be the greatest rock and roll song ever “Soul Survivor”.

So my advice Mr. DJ - if you still exist (probably not, so okay Mr. Radio Programmer) is that every time you want to play one of the above songs, take the fucking hint, okay?