The Notorious LVB: 1809-27

1809 - 1811: Me and LVB Take a Break From Each Other, Part One:

We last left off in 1808, and since all I've got left in my collection are the remaining symphonies - which don't pick up again until 1812 - I'd hate for you to think LVB or the world are taking it easy. So here are some chronologies to pore over: one for him and one for us.

But if you can't be bothered, I'll sum it up below:

1809: 

Us: Oh, not much. War is declared against France, so the French army invades Vienna

Him: Teaches music to Archduke Rudolphe and composes a string quartet, a few piano sonatas,  and a bunch of songs for various luminaries.

1810:

Us: France (thanks Napolean!) continues to invade everyone and their moms. The Germans respond by declaring the first-ever Octoberfest. (All agree they should have just stopped right there for the next two hundred years.)

Him: Presents 'The Letter for Elise' to Thérèse Malfatti, for whom he's got the hots. Having addressed his frontal area, he moves on to covering his posterior by continuing to writing tunes for big shots. 

1811:

Us: The King of England goes mad.

Him: He begins writing the seventh symphony

1812: The Seventh Symphony

So while the rest of the world is blowing up, LVB is writing another symphony. This time, he's back to four movements, probably because he realized that having five parts last time was a real a*hole move, even for him.

The first movement starts off with a Blam! I love the opening chord progression. Maybe it appeals to the plebes like me too much but that's okay. LVB's a plebe at heart. Just one who reached for the stars. 

Then two minutes in he's about to up the ante but then pulls back. Sly dog. But he's only setting us up because at five minutes he comes at us even stronger. And he keeps up the bobbing and weaving and boppity-bop rhythm for nine more minutes! Pastoral Schmastoral! LVB's back, baby!  

Is the second movement a funeral march? Not quite - it's got sort of a "Climb Every Mountain" vibe, but with horns instead of nuns - a switch that would have dramatically improved my childhood. 

In the third LVB cheers up, picks up the pace, and adds a rather snappy rhythm. 

In the fourth, he takes it up another notch but keeps things from getting too crazy. He must be on his meds. Ah, but then towards the end they wear off and he's his old crazy self as if to say it's the summer of Ludvig!! 

He conducts it the following year to celebrate the Brits kicking Nappy's ass.

A

"Lenny Number Seven"

1813: The Eighth Symphony:

Having proved he was no sissy last time, he's a little less of a dick now, but still thrashing when necessary. 

In the first movement, he tries to sound "stately" as if he owns a thousand acres, which he kind of does by now. But it still moves. 

The second is short and mellow. I can see putting this on for dinner guests.

The third gets regal, like he thinks he's the king. He was smart enough to not tell the actual king,  though.

The four is customarily fast - the typical Beethoven charge at the gates - nice but nothing amazing. 

And before you know it, it's over.  It's his shortest.  All in all, it feels like this one is made up of the parts that didn't make the last symphony. 

B+

"Lenny Number Eight"

1814 - 1823: Me and LVB Take a Break From Each Other, Part Two:

Then the man drops out for a while, taking a break from Symphonies and lots of other things.

Was it a Clapton break, involving substance abuse followed by long years of mediocre music? Nah. More like a Dylan motorcycle accident break where he (eventually) does the basement tapes once he gets better. 

But what was going on? Oh, let's see: his brother dies, he gets into a custody battle over his nephew and becomes very ill.

By 1820 he's finally composing more, including three piano sonatas, and he's already started on the Ninth Symphony.

1824: The Ninth Symphony 

He just HAD to go back to five movements.  Not only that, each one is loooooonnnnng. The whole thing runs about SIXTY-FIVE Minutes - at least half again as long as anything before it. 

We're in double album territory. Not The Beatles, mind you, which was over 90 minutes long. More like London Calling or Exile on Main Street. You know - double albums that come up a bit short time-wise but are great nonetheless. (Speaking of London Calling, what if LVB - instead of having that 5th movement - just had a hidden track at the end?)

And speaking of the Stones, do you find it as odd as I do that he finishes this with a chorus, kind of like "You Can't Always Get What You Want"? Typical of the Stones to take something meant to be so positive and shitting all over it just before heading on out to Altamont.

Two seconds in and it already feels bigger! (now, there's a sentence I never expected to write...) It moves - rhythmically, melodically, and dynamically - all over the place, and yet it holds together. It reminds me of "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" in the sense that it takes its time to make its point and expects you to sit there and wait.

It's like listening to a drunk guy in a bar who you think might take a slug at you. He's had a tough life and he's got to take it out on somebody.

The second movement opens with a theme everyone would recognize. Again the insistent rhythm, and, as usual, the rhythm and melody match perfectly. The drunk is angry and might strike out at any moment. By the end of it, I feel like I've done a few rounds with Ali. Float float float float float STING!! You get the idea. 

You finally get to rest in the third movement. The drunk has calmed down and LVB is taking his time. And after years of personal turmoil, he's got a lot to say. Who? Both of them.

The fourth grabs you again. You thought he'd mellowed out, didn't ya? No, he's still drunk and still knocking shit over. And still upset. But then he finally hits that happy stage and loves the world. 

And in the fifth, not only has he started singing, he wants the whole bar to sing with him, too. And they do!

I've gotta admit the singers are really wailing by the end of this one. And the orchestra keeps up with them. The ending combines the orchestral and vocal into what must have been an overwhelming climax. But that's also how I feel about "You Can't Always Get What You Want" which I'll admit I still prefer. 

He conducted it at the premiere, even though he was totally deaf.  When it was over, one of the singers had to turn him around so that he could at least see the audience going nuts.

And well, there it is. One of the "great albums" - snob that I am - that I never quite got comfortable with. I guess I liked his early stuff better before he became a big star and everyone else liked him.

But it's really really good.

"Lenny Number Nine, Number Nine, Number Nine..."

A-

1825 - 27: "...the love you take/make, etc..."

He continues to compose, even starting a tenth symphony. But he's getting ill again and family issues are taking their toll. 

When he passes away the funeral attracts 30,000, and among the pallbearers was that suck-up Franz Schubert. (We'll get to him eventually.)

So after all of this, I must REALLY LOVE Beethoven, right? Not exactly. 

I still a fan of rock 'n roll and pop music. I dip into classical music like I dip into reggae or the blues. I need a change, stay for a while and then go home.

I still love the Beatles, the Stones, and the Who more than any of the Big Three Bs of Classical Music - Beethoven, Bach, Mozart.  Why Mozart you say? 'cuz he's such a little Bitch.

Jk, it's really because it's Brahms, and despite having his Requiem, I can't say I'm up to him yet. (Remember the Jaybee motto: don't let facts/reality stand in the way.)

So I hope this exercise hasn't been a complete waste of time for you. I'm glad I did it because it forced me to listen to it all more closely, and I'm really glad I did.

So rock/pop will always be first, but if someone puts on any of the LVB music I've covered here, I'm going to really enjoy it.

Anyway, let's finish with this small piece you might know as "Schroder's Theme".  

RIP LVB.

The Notorious LVB 1806-07

So what's the old charmer been up to these days, you ask? In 1806, his brother, of street fighting fame, gets married, so LVB would have to find someone else to wrestle with. Instead, he writes his Fourth Symphony and a Violin Concerto because that's what one does. In 1807 he had the hots for a young widow who turned him down. So he finishes writing his Fifth Symphony. (But that'll have to wait until next time.) Wow. All that redirected sexual energy!

Violin Concerto  1806

When I got all nine of Beethoven’s Symphonies from MHS, they threw in a bonus record. And damn if it didn't work its way into my brain and end up being my favorite bit of classical music!

 

I guess when I was feeling daunted by the sheer amount of music in the Symphonies, I’d put this one, feeling I'd at least be accomplishing something, and, by golly, it snuck up on me.

This is a really lovely album.

And now that I've (accidentally) gotten a CD version of it, I've become the Classical Music Asshole I always hated. You know who I mean. I can now say something like I prefer the 1991 Itszhak Perlman-Carlo Maria Guilini version with the Philharmonic Orchestra to the 1981 Christian Ferras-Herbert von Karajan version with the Berliner Philharmoniker due to some esoteric reason when we both know my fave was the video version because the (Irish?) violinist sweat his ass off.

So let me tell you about it.

Well, in typical classical music "let's piss off the plebes" fashion it goes on for three and a half minutes before any violins show up. Or, at least becomes prominent. Lesson: soloists are always late, so always invite them earlier than everyone else.

The first movement is by far the longest - twenty-four minutes! - single movement of anything I have by LVB. By the time it's done you're like, hey that was great! and then you realize there are two more movements!

The second movement is a bit calmer and there's a nice mellow chord progression at around 3:45 that would be at home in any mellow-bluesy rock n' roll song. Speaking of which the whole thing clocks in at about 44 minutes, a very respectable mid-70s album length and the longest piece so far.

The third movement picks things up a bit and ties it all together in a very graceful energetic way.

So why do I like it? Well, it comes down to this. The violin sounds like an electric guitar. Not exactly in actual sound, and not exactly in what is being played. But in the verve and passion of it all.

There's even a degree of improvisation here but I'll be damned if I can figure out where it is. Suffice to say there are what appear to be "fills" along with the written down parts, and in its own classical way, it rocks. And that's Beethoven for you right there.

When I look for a video with Itzhak Perlman I'm irritated to see him sitting. I get it, he's wearing classy duds and - like the Winchester family, doesn't sweat/perspire. The video below is more rocking, with Ms. Hahn swaying like a guitar god. The audience reaction is pure rock n' roll, too, and completely appropriate.

My point is there's energy and passion here I can fully relate to. 

Funny thing, at its first public performance the public turned up its nose, and it took another dozen years for someone to dust it off and try it again - by a twelve-year-old violinist! It took someone at a rock n roll age to bring all that energy out. At which point everyone said you see I told you it was great (see the Hitler/Ramones Syndrome).  

Even better than my other fave, Vivaldi's Mandolin Concerto.

A

BEETHOVEN Concerto for Violin and Orchestra - Hilary Hahn, violin; Leonard Slatkin, conductor

Fourth Symphony:

As I mentioned before, the general rule for the Symphonies is to go for the odd-numbered ones, and this is a good illustration of that.

Number Three changed the ((classical (music)) world so the next one was bound to be a bit of a letdown. But then you're run into the people who go on to say that well, this is one of the most underrated blah blah blah. You get the idea.

And, alas, here, the paradigm holds up. Harvest Moon after  Ragged Glory? Not quality-wise, but definitely mood-wise.

He’s back to his opening Dah-Dah!-themed approach. But you can tell his heart's not fully in it. After having blown everything up, he’s taking a bit of a break. Wouldn't you?

After the bounce and hop of the last one, this one is almost comical that it takes over two minutes before it really kicks off. But then watch out! He's still Beethoven, after all.

The third movement may sound very familiar, and it's where things pick up.

And just when you think, man this guy just loves his fast endings, he pauses. And then blasts past you and it's over! 4th And okay he catches you in the 4th movement with the trick ending but let's face it, it's more cute than climactic. End of Sailin Shoes? No, the end of Abbey Road.

Verdict: Quite good, but not revolutionary. Perfectly fine for anyone else, but slightly subpar for the mad (not really) genius (yes really) that he is.

B+

But if anyone can perk things up, it's Lenny:

Beethoven: Symphony No. 4 in B flat major, Op. 60 (Leonard Bernstein)

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?

Overrated

NOTE: This post is co-written by Good Jaybee and Evil Jaybee. Most of the work was done by Good Jaybee (because Evil Jaybee is, well, evil) but we’ll call it out when EJ has something to say.

I recently threw a stink bomb into a discussion taking place on an Americana music site.

Members were asked which artists they thought were the most overrated. I just came to listen since I couldn’t think of anyone.

Some of the comments were of the kids these days variety. I'd had enough of that when I was an actual kid, but didn’t rise to the bait this time.

And of course there were the conformist-as-hell-but-don’t-know-it nonconformists who trashed the Beatles. For the most part, though, ire was directed at well, Americana artists, as was apt.

But then a few commenters put some pop/dance/rap artists on their lists. Now I’m a dilettante at best regarding those genres. I hate some, I like some. So I wasn’t exactly defending them when I jumped into it.

My point was if you don’t like a genre, how can you say an artist of that genre is overrated? It’s like someone who hates hearing fat ladies sing saying that opera is overrated. Maybe his opinion just doesn’t matter. Doesn’t he know this? Why is he even talking? The fat lady fans just don’t care.

I got a good mix of responses - none of them threatening actual physical harm. And the dialog eventually got to the I like what I like and you like what you like phase, which leads me to wonder what the point of the exercise was.

I always wondered how someone could dismiss an entire musical genre, anyway. Don’t you have to be familiar with something to form an opinion about it? I’d try to picture the person dutifully listening to a whole stack of albums in order to develop an informed opinion just for this occasion. And at the end of all that effort (and money spent), they would pronounce the genre “Sucky”. Really? Isn’t life too short for all that? Unless you’re a critic and you’re paid to do that.

I’ve since learned that most people don’t go to such lengths. They hear what they hear and then they give their opinion about it. And I guess if you hear a few songs and don’t like any of them, chances are you’re not going to like the next one, either.

Isn’t that enough to just leave it all be? Do you really need to make pronouncements about it? As if those who are enjoying it are wrong? (Evil Jaybee here. I will make exceptions for artists like Journey or Rush, who, if you like them, you're definitely wrong.)

So I got to thinking about what overrated really means. When we use the term, we’re essentially saying that we like something less than other people. Not much of a statement.

The logic of it goes something like this:
You like ______ a lot.
I don’t like _______ as much as you.
Therefore, you have rated ______ too highly.
Thus, you are incorrect.
Stop liking _______.

When put into a more global context, it’s more like this:
The whole world really like ________.
I think _________ is okay,
So the whole world has overrated them.
Thus, the whole world is incorrect.
World, stop liking ______.

This all sounds ridiculous to me, but it’s a bit more entertaining than "To each his own".

It comes back to the question of inherent quality. I once heard Mortimer J. Adler talking to Bill Moyers and rating Shakespeare over the poetry of James Dickey. Bill Moyers preferred the latter. Adler said that Moyers saw a quality in Dickey, as Adler saw in Shakespeare, but added that there was an inherent quality in Shakespeare that made him greater than James Dickey.

Funny how the guy who prefers Shakespeare also finds a greater inherent quality in him. What a coincidence. File that under No Shit, Mortimer.

On the other side of the coin, there are very few people who, when asked to choose between the Beatles and Herman’s Hermits, would pick the latter.  But are they wrong if they do?
(EJ: Hell Yes!) 

But once you get inside their heads you realize they're not. They like HH goddammit! And who am I to say that they’re f*cking stupid morons with no taste?  (Oops, that was EJ again.)

A guy at work who once told me - with a straight face - that he preferred Wings to the Beatles. While I shook my head in disgust, another person there agreed with him. Now you expect to encounter such idiocy on the job but these were people I respected! They were older than me and thus preferred the more poppish/commercial Wings to the slightly rockier Beatles.

And the sales figures at the time may have backed them up on this. I’m actually afraid of finding out. (EJ: I'm not. I just checked a couple of sites and it looks like the Beatles are doing better.) 

Thank God. But was it a matter of time?  Were the quality/marathon Beatles inevitably going to beat out the hit-of-the-moment/sprinter Wings? I’d like to think so, but Cats has still grossed more than Gypsy on Broadway.

(EJ) Let’s stop right here. I will (and sometimes do) shout to the rooftops that the Wings people are WRONG about this. That there is an inherent quality (yeah, I said it) in Beatles music that is lacking in Wings. And those Wings fans make Hermans Hermits fans seem like Rhodes scholars.   

Good Jaybee here. A seemingly obvious difference in quality - Beatles vs. Herman’s Hermits -  may only be so because the Beatles are more famous than HH. In other words, perhaps it’s just the majority saying what they like and drowning out the HH fans.

I don’t have any Hermans Hermits albums. so for all I know they’re masterpieces. (EJ: Ah, but life’s too short to find out, right GJ?)

Uh, yeah. But for the hell of it, I checked the allmusic.com essay, and well, don’t you know that the author thinks their second album is just great?

Which brings me to Willie Nelson.

Or rather, that Americana site.

I somehow got pulled into an argument about Willie, or was it just an offshoot of the original Overrated Debate? Anyway, I was trying to play nice and pushed the to each his own line.

One guy was cool with that, since he was being attacked for liking some of Willie’s later albums. The other guy hated anything by Willie after 1985 or so.

We got to the you like what you like... phase (or, as the anti-Willie guy said, the you’re blind phase). (EJ: Didn’t he mean deaf?)

So to break the tension I decided to ask them both for their suggestions on good Willie Nelson albums. And guess who gave me suggestions? Not the Anti Late Willie guy, of course. You’d think that with all the effort he put into trashing stuff, he'd happily direct me to the "good". But no. He must have gotten bored.

So what’s the point of a negative opinion?  I mean, it’s fine to have one. I have plenty.

Like this one. These guys are overrated:
Led Zeppelin
U2
The Police

Discuss!

And while you’re doing that, here’s one of the greatest songs of the sixties by the just-about-correctly-rated Hermans Hermits.
(EJ: Just try to think of a song by Wings you’d say was one of the greatest of the seventies. Good luck with that!)

Smithstory Lesson

Back in May, Mrs. Jaybee and I caught a Smiths/Morrissey cover band at the Bell House and had such a nice time I decided it was time to finally break down and get a Smiths record.

Oh, we already had a couple of compilations that I later found out were not considered representative of the band’s best music.  

So which record would I get? How about the one that topped the 2013 NME 500 Greatest Albums of All Time poll? Seriously. They beat out the Beatles! (fill in your own favorite artist there if you like, but you’d be wrong. It's the Beatles.) Hilarious.

Those Brits are really weird sometimes, and it’s for such differences that we fought for our independence. Well, that’s how I remember it. Yes, I was there.


The Smiths: The Queen is Dead

And it’s okay. Kind of uneven, actually.

The Smiths were a tight - if a bit fussy - little band. With the bass and drums more than adequate, and  Johnny Marr’s guitar sterling all the way through, they stand or fall on how well Morrissey fits his words/voice/melodies into this scheme.

And, well, some tunes are better than others. Once I get past the songs I already know from the compilations, there’s only one or two others that even remotely compare to them. And Morrissey is more annoying than interesting.

So my supposedly lame compilations seemed to have pulled all the good songs from this supposed masterpiece. Maybe I should just stick with them.

So in the wars with the Brits, we kicked ass in 1776, happily surrendered in 1964, and somehow beat them in the 1980s when they managed to produce even worse music that we did.

Now that’s saying something.

B

“The Boy With the Thorn in His Side”

Tom, Dick, etc.

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

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

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

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

The End

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

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

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

Harry Nilsson: Pandemonium Shadow Show / Aerial Ballet / Aerial Pandemonium Ballet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So then came Aerial Ballet:

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

An almost classic. A-

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

Aerial Pandemonium Ballet:

And he almost gets it right.

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

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

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

But Harry only gets a A-.

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

And the bonus cuts are excellent.

So, overall this set gets a strong  A-

“1941”

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

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

Right, yet again, Beatles!

Top One or Two Hundred All Time Whatevers

Act One of my One Act Play:

You: Happy 200th post Jaybee!

Me: Thanks!  Hey, wait a minute! That means I completely forgot about commemorating my 100th post. Why didn’t you remind me?

You, contrite: Sorry Jaybee!

Me, gracious as always: That’s okay.

THE END

Ooops! I Missed a Spot Post!

So what the hell happened to my #100 post? If I’m counting correctly, this is it. 

Nothing special, but theoretically appropriate in that it covers the year I was 15 years old. That’s supposedly when your brain gets permanently wired for the music you’re going to love all your life.

Not true for me though. In my case, it was when I was six (Beatles) and then again when I was twenty-one (punk).

So I really dropped the ball on that one.

Some Sound, Not Much Fury, Signifying Meh:

So, does 100 or 200 of anything have a special significance for me?

Well, my 100th album seems to be 4-Way Street, which is indicative of nothing except that it was in 1974, when I was starting to buy lots of records.

My 200th album was Warren Zevon, which I got right around the our nation’s 200th Anniversary. Ooooh! 

I was hoping for something poetic/resonant/thematic here, but will settle for this eerie yet boring coincidence.

So before I get distracted again, and forget that this is my #200 post, I thought I’d make up for my prior omission by doing something special. Something so ambitious, and yet so unstructured and drawn out as to - as Saddam Hussein once said - astound my friends and terrify my enemies. The Mother of All Lists, if you will.

We’re all fond of describing things as the Best/Worst (fill in the blank) Ever. Well, at least Comic Book Guy is. He can be a little too specific for me, so I’m leaving myself some wiggle room.

I was going to call this “The One Or Two Hundred All-time Coolest Happenings Ever” but the acronym for that is TOOTHACHE, so instead, let’s call it “The One or Two Hundred of the Greatest Things Ever: Songs, Records, Guitar Solos, Whatever. Not Albums, though, because I’m always talking about albums. Not people, either.”  (TOOTHOTGTE, etc.... seems pretty safe.)  

I’ll even include the odd non-music related thing, if indeed, such a thing exists.

My Head Exploded, But in a Good Way

One criteria for making the list is that the thing threatens to make your head explode, but in the nice way.  You know what I’m talking about. It’s like a form of good bumps, only it happens on your scalp. And you brain doesn’t splatter the sidewalk.

And when it happens several times in succession, as it did for me recently - twice(!) in public(!!) - you either react in an embarrassing manner (see below) or create a list like this.

Positive music experiences in public rarely happen to me. So when they do, I sit up and take notice. My hope is to just not get pissed off at what I’m hearing. Actually enjoying myself is a small miracle. These two occasions were that and much more.

The first time was at a Starbucks in Philadelphia. We walked in, got our hot chocolates, sat down and suddenly it was as though they were trying to chase out anyone under 50 years old. Usually, it’s the other way around. Anyway, they play Joni Mitchell’s “The Circle Game” and bunch of other songs I keep on a CD labeled “Miserable”, which I burned after a very depressing election.

Perhaps because I’d been softened up the night before by watching the American Masters episode about Phil Ochs, one song after another hit some deep emotional button to the point that I had to get up and leave on the pretext of getting a crossword puzzle from the van. Crying in public is not cool when you’re in your fifties.

And then it happened again later that year at The Mermaid’s Inn in the East Village. This time things were poppier but no less powerful. I realized that there are some songs that weren’t just great. They were part of me.

So this will be my outlet - those songs, records, Moments that Just. Kill. Me.

Worst. Best of Lists. Ever.

I have no intention of reaching or limiting myself to 100 or 200. If I stretch it out enough I should finish by about post 300, which will be my excuse to continue this futile exercise that I’m only doing because, as Louie says, God is Dead and We’re Alone.

I make no claim that this will matter to you one bit. These are merely transcendent (to me) moments. They are what keep me alive. What makes my agnostic soul believe with all my heart.

By the way, the numbers are not rankings. They just help me keep count. Young people can blog up stuff like this at a moment’s notice. I just don't have the energy.  

And really, how wrong can I be?  Every day I see another stupid Best of article:

• Rolling Stones albums that didn’t include Aftermath in the top 10.
• A Top 5 Dylan list that didn’t include Blonde on Blonde or John Wesley Harding.
• A Worst-to-Best REM list that had Out of Time as an almost-worst.
• A Best Scorsese movie list that placed After Hours above The Departed. (Are You Freaking Kidding Me?)
• And finally, an “Embarrassing Moments” list where what qualified were songs by rockers who momentarily drop their guard and show some real emotion.

So, as I say, how wrong can I be?

So here goes.

First Ten:

1. A Hard Day’s Night

But why not start at the top I say?

Starting with the Chord of the F*cking Century (not exactly but so what?) moving on to characteristically energetic singing by John of a virtually one note melody. But that’s okay, the chord changes do all the work, shifting around as the song charges forward.

And then.

And then.

It Comes.

What may be the Greatest Moment In The History of Western Civilization: 

When Paul comes in to sing the first line of the bridge (When I’m home..), kicking it all up a notch immediately by virtue of his higher vocal range. But that’s not enough. The second line takes the melody even higher, and still higher, until “Baby you’re holding me tight, Tight!”, which as philosophical statement beats the hell out of any ism we’ve come up with so far.  

The Sixties had officially begun.

I will generally stay away from the Beatles for this list, but sometimes it’s like trying to stay away from breathing…

2. Witchita Lineman

Not a complicated melody by any stretch, but the chord changes that accompany it are so dramatic they take your breath away. The lyrics are just vague enough to keep you wondering what the hell it’s about. And the strings are never overbearing, never cheesy. But a so-so vocal would have wasted it all. Instead Glen sings with such conviction and longing that I will fight anyone to the death who laughs.  I’ve demanded silence in shopping malls when it’s played there.  

And I get it.

3. September Gurls:

Okay, I know. I keep harping on this song. And even if you’ve heard it,  you like the Bangles version. But you’re wrong. The Bs do a fine job of emulating middle-period Beatles with that speeded up guitar solo that serves to remind you of the speeded up piano solo of “In My Life”. It is “excellent”!

But “excellent” just isn’t good enough for this list.

Listen to Big Star’s version. You could mistake it for a merely great pop song until, oh, about thirty seconds in where you get the Chord of the F*cking Decade. (The 70s that is.) This will be followed by Alex Chilton’s completely unhinged guitar solo. Not technically brilliant, mind you. Just a few random strums, but completely un-self-consciously off the wall and purely emotional - unfiltered by “taste” or “intellect”.  

Alex Chilton also sings it in a higher(!) key than the Bangles. He of "The Letter" fame! So he’s playing for bigger stakes than the Bs dare to, even with their sly lesbian angle. Alex is singing an autumnal song like an adolescent, convincingly!

Then he finishes it all off with an ever more seriously disturbed solo that doesn’t quite end when when song does.

And for that moment we see him. The artist Naked.

4. Dancing Queen

“Muriel’s Wedding” brought me dangerously close to getting sick of this song.  But I recovered.  Glitzy, over produced, utterly commercial.  And stunningly beautiful.  The part of the chorus beginning with “You can dance” rivals the bridge in "A Hard Day’s Night" in sheer joy.

5. Walk Away Renee

Before I owned this record, coming upon it on the radio meant that whatever else was going on had to stop. I’m so glad it wasn’t playing in Labor and Delivery when my kids were born.   

Now that I have the record, I do notice that the background singing isn’t as good as it could be and the sound could be a lot cleaner.  And yet, I’m sure that if a version existed that addressed those problems, I wouldn’t love it nearly as much as I do the original.  

And the words!  It would have been nice to know them - the singer isn’t trying very hard to enunciate.  But now that I know what they are, I realize the song is more effective without me knowing.  An overwhelming emotion that can’t be expressed in mere words. They come close, though.

And the melody!  Was it simply handed down from heaven to Michael Brown? The strings certainly were.

6. She’s Not There

As much as I love rock and roll, I’d be the first to admit it’s very simple music and the musicians are not always up to even that. And yet, here we are in 1964 with Rod Argent playing a bitchin’ electric piano solo. And how about that pretty nifty melody in the verse, which suddenly switches to virtually a single note during the chorus, but there’s that harmony that works it and works it and works it. Along with the time shifts, key changes, and the breathless tempo.

Okay, maybe not transcendent, but thrilling.

7. The Kid’s Are All Right

It’s a disgrace that the first time I heard this 1966 song was the little snippet at the beginning of that song on Quadraphenia in 1973. Thanks a lot FM and AM radio! HUGE fail.  

Anyway, when I finally caught up with it, I realized that Pete Townsend wasn’t a genius because he could do a rock opera. It was because he could write such a perfect pop song, which by the way, isn’t so because of the melody or the playing, even if  the harmonies and Roger Daltrey’s vocal are perfect. It’s because of the lyrics.  

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a song that better captures the insecurities, the camaraderie, the pain and the joy of being a teenager. The title, I think, is a f*ck you to adults who thought every teenager was a hoodlum. Pete always had their back. It’s “My Generation” again, only this time much sweeter.

8. Friday on My Mind

Of working class themed songs, “Summertime Blues” is the funny one. FOMM however is the keeper. It’s just so damned intense. Maybe the most intense rock song ever.  

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the tempo is frantic.The key changes go higher and higher and the harmonies keep up with it. And great guitar riffs.

And the story: A working class guy who sounds like he’s right on the edge. When he promises to lose his head, you hope it’s in a good way. He bitches about his job, but for once, doesn’t take it out on his girlfriend, who he can’t wait to go out with.

9. The Circle Game

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a bad version of this song. Even Buffy St. Marie (sort of) kicks ass with it. But I’ll give the edge to Joni Mitchell’s.

Like some of  her other songs,  its theme is  trite,  in theory anyway. But she fills them with such evocative words and perfectly matching melodies that you’re too stunned to notice.

10. Dying to Live

I know you don’t know this one. That’s why I put it here! I have nothing to say about it that you can’t hear yourself. We can all be forgiven for not realizing how much soul Edgar Winter has, but not after hearing this.

To Be Continued:

I’ll stop to take a breath now.

I’ll give the rest to you in bunches, or individually, as the mood, logic or alcohol dictates.

These songs are at such a level of perfection that you’re forced to stop whatever you’re doing and just let yourself be carried along with them. 

I think it's what we mean when we say God.