Secret History: 1973

Like the Big Bang, the explosion of music in the sixties hurled huge chunks of brilliance through space.  As time went on, they were no longer the size of stars, but rather that of planets and asteroids.  The great music was there, just not in your face.  It was more spread out and harder to find. But it was there.  I swear.



But we were arguing about it more.  We didn’t all like the same things anymore.  Or rather, we were starting to dislike stuff, instead of just being indifferent to it.



And speaking of arguments, it's a bit embarrassing for me to write anything about the New York Dolls for a couple of reasons.  One is that I hated them on principle at the time.  I was a big Allman Brothers fan.  The Allmans weren't exactly fashion plates, which suited me fine, as I was of the belief that my music heroes, unlike the super-heroes in the comics (link) I loved, should not have uniforms or costumes.  Music was all.  Everything else was a distraction, especially a bunch of guys dressed as women.  David Bowie was a macho man in comparison, and I didn’t like him, either.



But now the other reason to be embarrassed about expressing an opinion about them is that I might overcompensate and go to the other extreme, in the urge to make up for past wrongs.  I don’t want to do that.  I’d look like an idiot.  And you know, that never happens.



But screw that.  I'm here to repent.  The first New York Dolls album is simply one of the greatest rock and roll albums ever.  It's loud, brash, noisy and yes, trashy.  In other words, it’s everything rock ‘n roll should be.  It took a couple of years for me to really take it in.  At first listen, it's just a lot of clatter.  But when you find yourself loving the fourth song on side two, you know you've got a record that goes deep.



John Prine may have been overcompensating, too.  On his third album, “Sweet Revenge”, he moves away from the stripped-down-to-practically-nothing sound of “Diamonds in the Rough”, gracefully avoiding “pretty”, and ends up with what might be his best record.  Funny, rocking and sometimes beautiful.



I always found that reggae sounded best when it was hot as hell outside and you were sitting by some water, getting high.  Since my house doesn’t face a body of water, and my kids have no interest in seeing me high (I think it would ruin it for them), I don’t get much opportunity to experience this optimal setting.  That’s where the soundtrack to The Harder They Come comes in.  It’s a perfect introduction to reggae, and if you’re lucky like me, you’ll get the anniversary edition which contains a bonus disc of other hits from Jamaica (“I Can See Clearly Now”, “The Israelite”) at the time.





Countdown To EcstasyThere were no big AM hits on “Countdown to Ecstasy”, Steely Dan’s second album, (unless you count “My Old School” or “Show Biz Kids”).  But, in a lot of ways, it’s the quintessential SD album.  Fans love “Razor Boy”, “The Boston Rag”, and “Boddissatva”.  The guitars are working overtime here.  And not too jazzy.  Yet.







AquashowElliot Murphy made one of the all-time “Records That Annoyed Jaybee's Brother” with “Aquashow”, and I still can’t figure out why.  We've got the guitars and organs to give you that “Blonde on Blonde” feel.  The subject is a bit more Velvet Underground, though.  Okay, Elliot doesn't have the greatest voice, kind of a high pitched whine actually, but everything else coalesces into a great rock and roll record.



Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J.And then there’s Bruce.  The Boss.  Whose “Greetings from Asbury Park” kinda gets lost amongst his other records.  I can still recite every word to “Blinded by the Light”. (His is still the best version. The Hold Steady were probably conceived while this song was playing), “For You” and “It’s Hard to be a Saint in the City”, especially the wordy bridges.  I know you love “Spirit in the Night” and “Growing Up”.  But I love “The Angel” and “Does This Bus Stop on 82nd Street?”  Maybe my second favorite Springsteen album.



O Lucky Man! (LP Version)Back when weird movies were just beginning to entice me to into the city, “Oh, Lucky Man!” had the added attraction of the having the band playing not only on the soundtrack but right in the middle of the action.  Alan Price used to be in the Animals, playing that great organ on “House of the Rising Sun”.  (You can also catch him hanging with Bob Dylan in “Don't Look Back”.  How cool is that?)  Here he gives a slightly skimpy eight songs to this strange film, but they're all winners.



Valley Hi/Some Days You Eat the Bear and Some Days the Bear Eats YouThere are a number of attractions on “Valley Hi” by Ian Matthews.  One is his covers of early Jackson Browne, Richard Thompson and Mike Nesmith songs.  The other is his pretty voice.  He also does the version of “Seven Bridges Road” that the Eagles stole for their totally useless live album.  But anyway, this is pretty as heck.







BlondelIf you can handle Valley Hi, you’re ready for “Blondel” by the Amazing Blondel.  But be warned, the inside cover shows a guy sitting in his bare feet.  It’s that kind of record, and a prime example of mid-seventies English folk music with a pop gloss.  Depending on your point of view, this is either a beautiful masterpiece, as I thought at the time, or something that should come with a warning label for diabetics.  I’m betting you’ll like it.



ByrdsThe Byrds briefly reunited for an eponymous and much maligned album.  It does suffer in comparison to their earlier albums.  For some weird reason they do two Neil Young songs - one a great version of “See the Sky About to Rain”.  Chris Hillman and Gene Clark add the melody.  Roger must have needed the cash.  Not bad.  Really.







Journey's End/I'll Be ThereMatthew Fisher is the guy who wrote the organ melody on “A Whiter Shade of Pale”, and it took him over forty years to get the royalties for it.  And he spends most of “Journey's End” - his first solo record – feeling sorry for himself about it.  He's got the whiny voice to match, too.  But he writes nice melodies so it all goes down nicely.  It was truly made for sensitive sixteen year old boys like me, who hung our in out rooms listening to music like this, instead of going out and having a good time.





And maybe that was the problem.  When I look at 1973, I see a lot of music suited for isolation, and not much for community.  What did we agree on?  Maybe “Innervisions”, but not much else. 

And that lame metaphor I started with?  All I can say is that it’s easy to see the stars at night.  But you need a telescope for the other stuff.

Secret History: The Velvet Underground

I was just going to just jump into 1967 when I decided that the Velvet Underground deserved their own post.  If ever there was a band that represented the secret history, it’s them.

No band better defines the division between what many people call classic rock, and what has always been looked upon as “alternative” music.  Call it punk, glitter, whatever. 

It was the music most of us hated.  It was just too damned weird.

The sixties made things easy for us.  For a time (1964-69) AM radio was a place where good music and popular music were synonymous.  We had FM for what we considered the more adventurous music, and when Sgt. Pepper came along, everyone was an artiste.  All of these factors conspired to make us think we’d explored all there was to explore.  It made us lazy. 

But even then, there was an “alternative” universe being created, thankfully before the window of opportunity collapsed.  It avoided the trap of taking itself too seriously, and it stayed rock and roll based, not trying to use classical music motifs.  Perhaps as a result, it didn’t get played on the radio.

Why not?  Because whatever people say about missing the sixties, I think most were secretly relieved when they was over.  They couldn’t wait for things to get back to normal.  Check out what songs became hits on AM radio in 1970, and compare that to just the year before.  (No, you do it.  I’m busy.) 

And FM?  Well, if anything, the increasing crap on AM only made it more attractive.  But as people get older, they want to be taken seriously.  So the music they listened to had to seem more mature.  How to do that?  Well, add orchestras, stress musicianship, and trade in the electric guitar for an acoustic.  Above all, be serious.  That’ll let people have their pop music and feel grown up, too.  You know it’s art if everybody’s frowning.

So music that hoped to be sold got pretty safe.  But, as a friend once said, “safe” is one long slow slide into mediocrity.  In order for something to thrive it’s got to change.  And change can challenge people.  Some aren’t up for it. 

A friend once complained that there hasn’t been any great music since 1975.  Given where he was looking – AOR radio – I had to agree.  Had he been looking elsewhere, he might have felt differently.

And that’s a shame because I happen to think that what we call “alternative” music has been responsible for far more great rock and roll music than supposedly “classic” rock.   

My Faithful Readers: Ahem, hey Jaybee, what about the Velvet Underground?

Me:  Oh, yeah.  I forgot

I’m ashamed to say that I didn't hear my first Velvet Underground album until 1982 – at least fifteen years after it came out.  I was only three tracks into “Velvet Underground and Nico”(1967) on my first listen when it was clear to me that I was listening to a great album.    (This from a guy who doesn’t usually know he likes an album until he’s heard it a dozen times.)  I couldn’t believe how enjoyable it was.  From the beautiful ballads - written back when Lou Reed would put actual melodies in his songs, and sing them, too! - to aggressively experimental rock and roll, it amazed me that, with the exception of “Heroin”, I had heard none of it on the radio.  It was as though a , well, secret history had been revealed.

And yet, it’s quintessential “classic” rock.  I’ll admit that some of the subject matter must have been considered iffy (drugs, sado-masochism, hey, what’s not to like?) at the time, but it was the 60s for god sakes.  But then again, these topics stand in start contrast to our image of the Summer of Love.  Classics include: “Sunday Morning”, “Waiting for My Man”, “There She Goes”, “Femme Fatale”, “I’ll Be Your Mirror”.  It’s one of the all time greats.

I then figured that if the radio wouldn’t play this when it first came out, thus preventing it from entering the collective consciousness, what else were they passing on?  And if that’s what I missed then, what was I missing now?  This was when I officially gave up on commercial radio as a source of music that I could love.

The second album, “White Light/White Heat” (1968) is one of the most uncompromising albums ever made, and is admittedly a bit much.  The amps are turned way up beyond the point of distortion, let alone clarity.  If anything the subject matter is even more out there.  It could be heard as Lou Reed’s first of many extended middle fingers to his audience.    But it does have great moments – the astounding momentum of “Sister Ray”, “Lady Godiva’s Operation”, the beautiful “Here She Comes Now”.  Not for the faint hearted, it’s definitely that last one to get.

The third album - simply called “Velvet Underground” (1969) - is a total shock, because its quietly beautiful - and yet not pretty - sound occupies a completely different universe from its predecessors.  Maybe it’s the morning after the orgy of the prior album.  Minor caveats include the woozy lead guitar in the middle of “What Goes On”, which is more than made up for by the great rhythm(!) guitar solo at the end, and the experimental “Murder Mystery” which is a bit long.   Highlights include “Candy Says”, “Beginning to See the Light” and “Jesus”, which, if it were ever played at Mass, I might start going again.  It’s a morning album, but have your coffee first.  Definitely worthwhile.

“Loaded” (1970) is the last official studio album, and is much more relaxed and seemingly lightweight than the prior ones, so much so that it may take a few listens to take hold, but by then, you’re hooked.  It’s got “Who Loves the Sun”, which could have been done by the Cowsills, “Sweet Jane”, which was done admittedly better by Mott the Hoople, and “Rock n Roll”.  Lou Reed sounds like he’s having the time of his life, which is weird, because he quit the band before the record was completed.  This one’s the funnest.

Of the live albums, I recommend the double “1969: The Velvet Underground Live”.  Of the two collections of lost recordings released in the 80s, I can vouch for the first “VU”, which has “You’re My Best Friend” and “Ocean” which are amongst my all time VU favorites.

So I suggest that you start with “Velvet Underground and Nico” for the classic songs, or “Loaded” for fun.  Then choose between the strong songs on “Velvet Underground” or the good tunes on “VU”.  And if you make it to “White Light/White Heat”, I’ll be very proud.

You don’t put the Velvets on during a party, unless you’ve invited a bunch of heroin addicts.  And at times you will find them to be downright unpleasant. 

But the Velvet Underground would be the well spring from which hundreds of other bands would arise.  Some of them could be unsavory (Iggy and the Stooges), or downright alarming (The New York Dolls).  In other words, they were often totally at odds with what many of us thought of as serious music.  And they smelled of gimmick, when it should be about the music. 

But what about the music?  There was always something twisted about it.  (Call it Bizzarro music if you like.)  It was loud, messy.  Definitely not mellow.  It was, after all, rock and roll music.  And we thought we were getting too old for it. 

But that’s only because too many of us see a contradiction between a seeming lack of seriousness and art.  And thanks to the ever tightening grip of money on radio, and the blindness of even so called free form stations, this music would always be relegated to the musical ghetto.

But over time, it’s become clear that this has been the real source of inspiration for the great rock and roll music being made even now.  And we have the Velvet Underground to thank for it.