2024 Also Rans

Martin Phillips 1963-2024

Okay, we're all sick to death of the debacle that was 2024. I'm sure 2025 will be better. Look how it's going already! 

But before we completely finish with that awful year, I must belatedly recognize some records whose true worth went unrecognized by yours truly until, like, now. Much like, say, a country choosing its President, I failed to choose these records when it mattered. 

Amy Winehouse: Back to Black (2006)

The only music I trust the British with is rock 'n roll, folk, and reggae. When they try to sing soul music the men are a disgrace. Amy does much better here.

She's got a great voice, the songs are good and the band is all over them. While I get the feeling that many women of color have done this before, with less monetary success, that's not Amy's fault.

The themes I pick up are that she's no good, her man's no good, love itself is no good, etc. (Alas, rehab is no good, either.) But she keeps your attention with great lines like What kind of f*ckery is this? 

And she meant every word.

A-

Beyonce: Cowboy Carter (2024)

I typically confine my comments to my own musical purchases, but for this album - gotten by Mrs. Jaybee - I'll make an exception. There's not a bad song here, and few really soar. Even when I don't hear a great song I hear people working hard to turn it into a great record.

So is this a country album or what? I neither know nor care. Whatever you may think - or want to think - this is an excellent record. Her versions of "Blackbird" and "Jolene" are fine, and the duets with Miley Cyrus and Post Malone are great.

Anyone who actually listens to this record and concludes it's bad is nuts. Or worse.

A-

Chappel Roan: The Rise and Fall of a Midwestern Princess (2023)

This sounds a bit like Olivia Rodrigo thanks to Daniel Nigro, who produced both records. But Roan is the more expressive singer. So expressive, in fact, at first the songs are indistinguishable from one another.

This led me to think I'd had my fill of this type of pop music, so I took a break. All that youthful energy in the summertime just made me tired. Not her fault.

When I returned this winter all those songs were patiently waiting for me to catch up. Each subsequent listen revealed more melodic details which gave each song its own identity. So that awful youthful energy paid off in the long run.

So have I had my fill? Not as long as I keep finding such worthy artists.

A-

The Chills: Brave Words (Expanded and Remastered) (2023)

The Chills spent the early part of the 1980s in their homeland, New Zealand, making legendary singles. In 1986, they pulled them all together and released the wonderful Kaleidoscope World, which I picked up in the fall of 2016.

I have fond memories of Election Day that year. The weather was sunny and mild, and I was off from work, so I spent the afternoon in my backyard listening to KW. Hilary was up by 5% and I assumed nobody would be stupid enough to change their vote because of Robert Mueller.

Now I ask myself, why, oh why do I keep buying Chills albums in election years? They promise so much and then reality dashes those hopes.

ANYWAY, this is their first proper album. It was originally released in 1987, and this version was remixed and remastered in 2023. Here, the band is almost militaristic in its rhythm and drive. Not to be outdone, their songwriter and leader Martin Phillips is obsessively singleminded in his pursuit of the perfect melody and thoughtful lyric. It makes for a very impressive record.

Their follow-up to this - Submarine Bells, one of my all-time favorites - is a bit more graceful, incorporating all of the above elements more organically. However, it's fun to hear all this sheer talent before it ripens into genius.

It's hard to love this record since the election. Harder still knowing that Martin Phillips died this year. But I keep playing it and it gets better and better each time. 

I'd hoped for joy, but I'll settle for solace.

A-

Sonny Sharrock: Seize the Rainbow (1987)

I'd checked out this avant-garde jazz guitarist a couple of years ago and found him to be a bit slick. Here he decides to rock out.

At first, the opener ("Dick Dogs") sounds rather silly, with its heavy-handed power chords seeming to announce I TOO can rock! Now, jazz musicians are capable of many things, but rocking usually isn't one of them. Oh, they play the notes technically better than any rock musician can but, in doing so, take all the fun out of it. (Kinda like Sting.) So I braced myself for the worst. 

Luckily, when it got to the solo parts Sharrock becomes himself and thus gets to have things both ways, sideways, up and down. In other words, six ways from Sunday. (That's means a lot.)

He's helped by a band that nimbly bypasses those moments when a rock cliche threatens to rear its empty head. 

What we end up with is something very worthwhile if not quite brilliant. 

B+

100 Gecs: 10,000 Gecs (2023)

Lots of beats for a not-quite-thirty-minute record. Lots of laughs, too.

I've never been a fan of sampling stomping Led Zep riffs a la Beastie Boys (although I think they got there first.) or the noisy use of noise ala the Sleigh Bells. But this young couple uses a larger palette, like throwing ska beats into the mix. Then they sew it all together into something almost coherent.

Fast, loud, and funny. There's something to be said for keeping things short.

B+

Ceremonial Washing of the Hands:

Now let's be rid of 2024 and try to bear 2025.

We Can Be Weirdos 3: Wrapped in a Flag, Carrying a Cross

Reality Can Go F*ck Itself:

In a time when those who are described as successful - media moguls and tech titans among them - line up to kiss the ring all in the name of making a buck, I prefer to stick with those strange folk over in the corner who don't dress well, and pass the time by making things they like regardless of what other people think.

Let's face it. What passes for normal these days is appalling. I'd prefer the company of those who, simply by being and creating, reject it all out of hand. None of these folks come out and say so, I'll admit. But I'd like to think so.

So let's all raise a finger to this new class of rich idiots playing with guns, while the powerless  - as usual - pay the price.

Thanks, Johnny! Thanks, Neil!

Musically speaking, we will move on from Ambient, to where things quickly get out of hand. 

Fishmans: Long Season (1996)

Thirty-five minutes long, built on a simple synth melody riffed on by guitar, bass, and piano. With vocals in Japanese, of course. 

It's more upfront than the records that follow below, in that it has an easy loping beat and a simple direction. It takes its time to get to its destination, which is nowhere in particular. Quite accessible and kind of laid back.

In other words, short and sweet. At first a bit strange but in the end, what's not to like?

WTFITS Score: 4.5

A-

Godspeed You! Black Emperor: Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven (2000)

Not ambient. It just seems that way because it takes its sweet time getting started. But unlike Fishmans, it's got places to go and people to see, and damn if it doesn't get to each and every one of them.

But that takes some time so this is over 80 minutes long. Just four cuts, each about twenty minutes long. So if you were patient enough for Stars of the Lid and not going anywhere for an hour and a half, you will probably be fine with the buildup, digressions, and somewhat anti-climactic, um, climax. Because the peaks - and there are many - are worth it. 

The word "symphonic" comes to mind. But not in that fatal way of sounding like classical music - it's a rock band after all - but more in how it develops themes and brings them to their logical conclusions. And it's not overly dependent upon keyboards, like typical prog rock. The guitars are front and center and stay there unless there's a mysterious digression to spoken/overheard words.

Quite daunting at first, but unlike many efforts, I keep coming back to it, and each time it sounds better and better. 

WTFITS Score: 7.0

A-

Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band: Safe As Milk (1967)

Remember the Summer of Love? Well, this has nothing to do with that. It's Captain Beefheart's first album, and let's just say it wasn't in harmony with the times. 

It's not exactly like the Captain just stomped out onto the world stage fully formed and took it by storm. In reality, this is the Captain before his vision comes fully into focus. It's a solid rock record - consisting of admirable takes on blues-based rock n' roll, with the occasional foray into pop and soul - that the record company wasn't going to let get too weird. And as usually happens in such cases, everyone pretty much ignored it. 

Some '60s cliches pop up here and there, and that might tempt one to dismiss this record. But I have to give it to the band, which is very tight. Excellent lead guitar and drums throughout. A young Ry Cooder helps out on the bluesier cuts, but the other guitarist Alex Snouffer is no slouch, either. And drummer John French gives even the wilder stuff some structure.  The only outright strange element is the vocals - a combination of Howlin' Wolf and Wolfman Jack - which are there from the start. Even then the twenty-six-year-old Captain had a downright scary growl.

My version has some bonus cuts taken from sessions for what would be his second album. And here is where the Captain and the Magic Band start to sound like who they would become. The songs are longer, the lyrics odder and the signature slide guitar sounds like it's being played on a rocking boat. Even John French risks losing his way. 

A mere two years later, with the help of producer Frank Zappa, the facade falls away completely and the Captain and Band are on full display on Trout Mask Replica. I tried to play my vinyl the other day, and by the time I got to Side 3 my turntable died/refused to play it/committed suicide. Hard to tell. But with CB it's hard to tell when the record player is on the fritz to begin with. Lucky for me, unlike the Captain himself, turntables can be replaced.

But Safe as Milk is where it all starts.  It could have been a runner-up for my "Most Work But Not Necessarily Worth It" award, but I guess I played it one too many times and was converted.

A-

WTFITS Score: 7.5

Dirty Projectors: Bitte Orca (2009)

They are youthful, arty, pretentious, and precious, with a lead singer/songwriter who sounds like a cult leader. In all, annoying as f*ck. Upon my first listen I was tempted to fling the disc into the wall. 

It's my fault, really. I try to take in everything at once and end up hearing nothing at all. At least not the core of the songs. I hear the distractions only, and it first appears that this is made up entirely of distractions. 

Here's how my first few listens went:

First Listen: Grade: D,   WTFITS Score: 9.5 Utter loathing.

Second:        Grade: C,   WTFITS Score: 8.5 Arty, but with good musicianship

Third:           Grade: B-,  WTFITS Score: 7.5 That first song is actually good.

Fourth:         Grade: B,    WTFITS Score: 7.0 The fourth one is very pretty. 

So you see what's going on here? It's wearing me down. Just like this weird shit always does. Goddamn it. It's the old Jaybee shuffle. I go from hate to like/admiration/love and when I recommend it everyone thinks I've lost my mind and I know they're right.

WTFITS Score: 6.5

B+

Pere Ubu: The Tenement Year (1988)

Remember this Jack Benny skit?

A bandit points a gun at Jack Benny.

Bandit: Your money or your life.

Silence.

Bandit: Well??

JB: I'm thinking! I'm thinking!

That's how it was when I thought about buying another Pere Ubu album. Their album Dub Housing remains a 10/10 WTFITS score to this day. And no amount of replays or increased familiarity is going to change that.

But after forty-odd years, I'm in a strong f*ck you kind of mood, so I decided to give them another try.

In one respect they're weirder than ever. That is if you think matching David Thomas' "quirky" vocals with straightforward rock 'n roll, with the synth acting as glue is weird. If not, I take it all back. But otherwise, you might think you're listening to two different records playing at the same time. Maybe three.

But the rock and rock is very, very good. And David Thomas is, well, himself, but more "sociable" than before.

Who knows? You might even like it...

WTFITS: 8.0

B+

Ornette Coleman: The Complete Albums Collection 1958-62

After Of Human Feeling (WTFITS Score 9.0), Song X (9.0), and The Shape of Jazz to Come (8.5) I'm no closer to understanding this man's music than I was forty years ago when I started to try. So I didn't know what getting this set would do other than shorten my life, but that has taken care of itself and I've taken the plunge.

This collection brings together all of Coleman's first eight albums, all of them controversial to one degree or another. Most jazz enthusiasts found it to be an attack on jazz itself, or at least its foundations. My experience (see above) seemed to confirm that view. So I was afraid I was getting an endless barrage of unstructured, atonal, screech. 

And yet given the overall mood I've been in lately, I was attracted to the idea of that barrage. In that respect, it's sad to report that, over these eight albums, the barrage only occurs once. And even that isn't so bad. In fact, it's all really quite good. 

What is here is fast, hard, melodically intricate jazz. I'm just not hearing what's so strange about it. I guess you had to be there then.

And since The Shape of Jazz to Come is here, too, I'm getting to hear it - and enjoy it more - in this new context.

All in all, the news of Ornette's weirdness has been somewhat exaggerated.

WTFITS Score: 7.0

A-

All in all, there's nothing here to really piss people off. I do have a Cecil Taylor CD I can play with the car windows down, though, if needed. 

Nonetheless, all of this music will help me immensely during the farce that is about to commence.

In the meantime, hang onto your humanity.

And your weirdness.