August 13th is a date that fans of The Kinks should be truly excited about as it marks the release of Kinks at the BBC. This will hit the market in two formats: Five disc plus DVD box set and a stripped down, two CD package.
The Kinks were a top class British Invasion act who had a huge impact on both their contemporaries and subsequent generations of groups. At their peak, they were overshadowed by the giants of the era. The BBC sets will remind listeners of why they were so important.
Popular music took an extremely unfortunate sonic detour into technocratic mediocrity in the eighties, with the advent of digi-crap, synth pads and annoying drum sounds. Worse still was the gratuitous amount of reverb that most of the productions of that period were drowned in.
Talentless dolts that never would have made it past a hailstorm of flying beer bottles toward the stage became liberated from such pesky tasks as playing their instruments, singing on pitch and in most cases, crafting a decent song. Crass commerce won the day, with dumb, day-glo videos distracting listeners from the fetid stench emanating from their speaker grills. This is really where things went horribly wrong with the so-called “music biz”, creating a very nebulous and disparate atmosphere that allowed many pretenders (all apologies to Chrissie Hynde) to clog the charts with more garbage than ever thought possible.
Thankfully, there were artists that chose to eschew the trappings of prevailing trends, writing and producing music that would escape the gravity of the era in which it first appeared.
If you asked me to bet on an individual who would make the top of the class as a contemporary pop tunesmith, I’d tell you that the smart money would be on Neil Finn.
Cutting his musical teeth as part of his older brother Tim’s band (Split Enz), Finn flowered as a writer, penning several of the group’s hits in the early eighties before that aggregation’s rotating lineup sputtered out. Following the Split Enz farewell tour, he and drummer Paul Hester joined forces with bassist Nick Seymour to form The Mullanes in 1985. Relocating to LA, Capitol records encouraged them to change their name to Crowded House. “Don’t Dream It’s Over” connected as a hit single from their self titled first LP in 1986, though it took some time before radio discovered it. Lucky it was, as listeners were treated to well crafted, edgy, melodic pop which owed a debt to the golden age of mid-sixties mixed with Finn's own particular vision.
Dark shadows loomed over the subject matter of his compositions for the immaculate follow up disc, Temple of Low Men. Forced to capitalize on the momentum gained from their first outing, Neil delivered under pressure.
Breaking the sophomore jinx has proved difficult for many bands, as the old saying rings true.
You have your whole life to write your first record and little or no time to produce the second one.
Produced by Mitchell Froom, who also contributed on keyboards, the disc contains none of the grating synths or clangy drum noises that were all the rage in the late 80’s. The decision not to obfuscate the end results with the shallow sounds of that time period proved to be wise, ultimately giving the material a much longer shelf life. Instead, great care was taken to capture warm, stripped down takes from the three instrumentalists (four with the addition of Froom) who played with taste and restraint, always in service of the song. All selections are thoroughly engaging with nary a note going to waste in the entire program.
Gelling as a trio, the musicians create an intimate soundscape, augmented by Froom's atmospheric parts. Spooky vibes permeate the opener ("I Feel Possessed"), with icy retro keyboard textures sweeping over a choppy, stop-start beat in the verses that perfectly complements the sentiments expressed in the lyric. Describing the claustrophobic element of an all consuming relationship succinctly, even when the musical tension snaps in the hooky chorus, the ominous fact remains.
I feel possessed when you come round
Touches of cynicism and introspection are everywhere, with the listener getting a sense that the author of these lines could be expressing serious doubts about newfound success, partnerships and a host of other possibilities. This desultory, minor-key unease is leavened by truly great melodies for which Finn has a natural touch. Humor, however black it may be here at times, is the other crucial ingredient in the successful blend of personalities within Crowded House. Paul Hester was generally the ringleader when it came to the infusion of silliness onstage or alleviating the "serious quotient" that often makes obligatory promotional interviews fairly joyless for entertainers.
Their skills at putting their material across in a minimalist fashion served them well.
"Kill Eye" comes across almost as a bizarre, lost White Album cut. Chord changes swirl over a dense, insistent pulse rife with extraneous noise. Easily one of the more experimental journeys taken on this sometimes nervous soundscape. Just as you think you're headed in one direction, the ride jolts abruptly and peels into a 180 degree turn. "Into Temptation" is an unsettling exploration of human weakness, painted so vividly that it caused the author's wife at the time to question the inspiration. The arrangement features mellotron parts flown in from twenty years in the past. They join soft acoustic guitars and brushed snare in a triumph of aching economy. To me, this ranks with Squeeze's "Tempted" and Lennon's "Norweigan Wood" in terms of evoking the raw emotion of remorse in the wake of infidelity.
Or something like that.
You laugh at yourself while you're bleeding to death
Chalking up another tale rife with bitter wit, "Mansion In the Slums" presents some of the most sarcastic lines on the album, though it is done with such melodic aplomb that they sneak by on first spin. Meditating on the age old traps of greed and ego, there is no preaching involved. The dark undercurrent is subtle, yet the message is delivered.
Who can stop me? With money in my pocket. Sometimes, I get it free. The best of both worlds.
The laughs just keep on coming, though it wins my vote for the stand out in a class of high achievers. "Better be Home Soon" scored as a single, though the enticing melody and heartfelt plea for the return of a love interest is tempered with dismissive ultimatums involving the fact that the author is "right" and may decide to bail even if the object of their desire does come back.
Strong contributions from everyone involved makes the hard medicine go down fairly easily. "Never be the Same" and "Love This Life" provide real bite without ever straying into turgid, humorless territory. One thing that floored me at the time was the lack of impact that Temple of Low Men had in comparison to its predecessor. They had joked about titling it as "Mediocre Follow Up" or "Krakatoa", though it is nothing less than a spotless ten songs. Quietly beautiful song craft doesn't always translate into mass success. Fairing respectably chart-wise, it certainly deserved much more of a response from record buyers at that time.
Brimming with invention and energy, the music has aged remarkably well, sounding every bit as fresh as it did when I first picked it up. There is something substantial lurking beneath the surface of every cut. Highly recommended listening.
Timotheos has just released a new EP of ambient music that he is generously offering as a free download. Let the carefully layered sound textures lead you along previously uncharted introspective paths.
Given the set of circumstances that surrounded the recording of the tenth Yes album, its title could scarcely be more appropriate.
Following a brief hiatus from recording they returned and managed to produce two discs in the late seventies (Going For the One and Tormato) with the same lineup. Wrapping up a world tour in 1979, it seemed reasonable that Anderson, Wakeman, Howe, Squire and White would regroup to work on new material to usher in the new decade.
Attempts were made to do so, though creative sparks did not fly.
Exit Anderson and Wakeman...
Yes without the signature vocals of Jon Anderson seemed unthinkable. Over a twelve year period players had been fired, replaced, had quit, rejoined...but the singer?
Trevor Horn and Geoff Downes of The Buggles were unabashed admirers of the prog rock legends. Replacing the departed, the unenviable task of filling Anderson's shoes fell to Horn. To hardcore followers this was sacrosanct. Opinions were naturally divided when Drama was originally released in 1980, though it was given a much warmer reception in the UK than in America.
Trevor Horn probably still drops to the ground in a fetal ball when thinking about the tour in support of the LP.
Nevertheless, the passage of time reveals this to be quite a good record. Squire wrapped his harmonies around those of the new recruit (abetted by Howe) giving the illusion that Jon had indeed contributed to the sessions. Close inspection reveals otherwise, though the revamped quintet catches fire, tracking with a harder edged approach. Everyone acquits themselves admirably, obviously inspired by the adoption of fresh ideas.
Six tunes were spread over two sides of the original vinyl version. Highlights are "Tempis Fugit", "Into the Lens" and the sprawling "Machine Messiah". The remaining tracks are certainly inoffensive, though not spectacular. You can hear the sonic metamorphosis taking place that would result in the first Asia project and the formation of "Yes-West". These developments would see many long time listeners turn away in disgust, while younger devotees came on board in their place. This was still a couple of years away, though.
Back to 1980.
White and Squire lock in furiously, the latter soloing with abandon in the middle of "Machine Messiah". Downes utilized the most contemporary synth voicings in very imaginative ways, without sacrificing technique. His nimble fingers effortlessly match the scale burning of Howe and Squire. Howe's style and guitar tone are radically transformed as he leans heavily on a more metallic sound. While it isn't quite "metal", it is a far cry from the more delicate, jazzy runs that he had previously favored.
With so much going for it, the disc still languishes in the cut-out bin of forgotten music. When an established act deviates from the expected stylistic framework, there is usually mutiny amongst the faithful. To many, Anderson was simply irreplaceable and that sealed the fate of this incarnation of Yes. Revisiting Drama definitely has its share of rewards, as the playing and production are solid. Perhaps those who had hitherto ignored this one might now listen with a more mellow viewpoint (hey, it's been 32 years!) and discover its charms.
Imagine the shock that listeners must have experienced upon first getting acquainted with this record.
Stratospheric vocals arched over playing that was as muscular as it was dexterous. The future had arrived in the form of a progressive rock mothership, which deposited a musical payload that left a blast-crater five miles wide.
It's still smoldering some 40+ years after the event...
Although they have their share of detractors for various reasons (Anderson’s soaring tenor for some, the sheer length of the material for others) their strengths far outweigh any perceived faults. The Yes Album contains some of the most beautiful noise that they ever committed to tape.
One key change in the lineup sealed their fate. Guitarist Peter Banks made his exit (was elbowed out) following Time and a Word, replaced by Steve Howe. Radically altering their sound, greater commercial fortunes were now close at hand.
As time wore on, a revolving door would be necessary to facilitate the comings and goings of players.
Perpetual Change...
Melody in song construction is a big key as to why this became their breakthrough. There is a virtual minefield of hooks embedded in every cut, with an underlying intelligence that draws in the listener rather than seeming calculating or exclusive. Opening with authority, "Yours Is No Disgrace" is a long form piece that takes you on an exhilarating ride. Anderson is tracked with bloodhound like precision by Chris Squire's harmonies. Squire further amazes by practically attacking his Rickenbacker bass with edgy, rollercoaster runs. For all of this, the lyrics do stretch the definition of inscrutability to extremes at times. Perhaps Anderson was more concerned with scansion that pleased him rather than the actual words themselves. He has suggested that this was written with an anti-war theme in mind.
I think that there was likely a pile of dope around to "help".
Yesterday, a morning came / A smile upon your face / Caesar's Palace, morning glory / Silly human, silly human race...
Bruford seals his place as a premier drummer, madly inventive but still tasteful. Tony Kaye anchors it all with extremely intuitive keyboard flourishes. I have to state that I much prefer the material here to what was conceived for the follow up (Fragile). There is greater consistency in that even a minor effort like "A Venture" is far more satisfying than similar fare from the next LP ("We Have Heaven")
How(e) about that new kid on guitar?
Bringing a heady mixture of classical, jazz and Chet Atkins into the fold, Howe perfectly compliments the group dynamic. "Starship Trooper" contains extraordinary passages. Those ethereal descending runs that color the "speak to me of summer" section, the dead stop which ushers in virtuoso acoustic fingerpicking and the hypnotic, phased "Wurm" outro all amount to a masterclass in just under 10 minutes. This man is perpetually overlooked when those frustrating "best guitarist" lists are drawn up, which is unbelievable considering his estimable talents.
"I've Seen All Good People" remains the most accessible slab of multi-part wonder in the set, earning a slot in classic rock play lists, where it is still heard regularly. Borrowing a phrase from John Lennon, the message of peace is sincere with a seductive melody and a riff that Jimmy Page could almost claim as his own in terms of style. They really should have closed out the disc with this one as it has much more visceral impact than the more sedate "Perpetual Change". No need to quibble, as both are more than worthy.
All of the most impressive qualities of this exceptional band are present on The Yes Album. Epic compositions are nicely beveled with enough stunning detours to give the listener variety, with the indulgences muted (for the most part). Both sides are broken up by breezy interludes that hold interest and clear the sonic palette before the next substantial course. Overall, a great place to begin your journey into their discography. Undeniably, one of the most stirringly creative, accomplished bands in the universe.
People are still struggling to catch up with them.
Jon Lord: classically trained pianist, composer and co-founder of Deep Purple has passed away today at age 71. His writing credits include some of Purple's best known songs, including "Smoke on the Water", "Black Night", "Strange Kind of Woman" and "Child in Time". Breathtaking assaults on the Hammond B3 became a signature, placing him squarely at the center of the prog-rock movement as it began to take shape in the late sixties. He pioneered rock and orchestral fusion with his Concerto for Group and Orchestra, first performed by Deep Purple with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra at London’s Royal Albert Hall in 1969.
Blues, jazz, symphonic pieces...his range was stunning, extending to many genres. His session work was also extensive.
Sadly, our culture currently seems to be celebrating the anti-musician, with dancing idiots in headsets conveniently bypassing the 10,000 hours of practice traditionally deemed necessary before taking the stage. The performances captured below serve as a reminder of his great talent.
Lord was a gent, legend and a craftsman. Today the music world has lost one of the true masters.
Mondegreen: the term for misheard song lyrics that give rise to new words or meanings.
Sylvia Wright coined it in an essay she had written for Harper’s in 1954, recounting a frequent mishearing of a lyric from a Scottish ballad called “The Bonny Earl O’Moray”
As a child, Wright heard the words as:
Ye highlands and ye lowlands
Oh where hae you been?
Thou hae slay the Earl of Murray
And Lady Mondegreen
Of course, Lady Mondegreen existed only in her mind, for the correct line reads, "slay the Earl of Murray and laid him on the green." To this day the "mondegreen" has been used to describe all misunderstandings of this type.
Here are a few classics:
“Secret Asian man”
“Chicken to ride”
“’Scuse me while I kiss this guy”
"There's a bathroom on the right"
"Slow walkin' Walter"
Feel free to share your own interpretations in the comment section.
Occasionally, I turn off the old Victrola and actively search for new music. While there are lots of great artists/bands out there doing interesting stuff, much of it never finds a home on mainstream radio. What does get marketed is often devoid of ideas and barely tied to a tune.
Remember when radio had room for a wide variety of sounds/great songs?
Something Else By the Kinks is filled with them.
1967 witnessed an explosion of rock music that was outrageously bent and filtered through a prism of drug induced “experiences”. Many writers of the era saw pot and psychedelics as useful tools to enhance their creativity, with some successfully taking their listeners on wondrous sonic journeys. Others under this same narcotic spell managed little more than self indulgent, pretentious attempts at profundity which should have been left on the cutting room floor. The Kinks steered well clear of “happenings” in the year of flowers and beads, opting instead to focus on making great records.
Disclaimer: If you approach this album expecting "You Really Got Me" or "All Day and All of the Night" type stuff, you will be disappointed.
The ability of the quartet to lock in and let the riffs steer the ship was merely one facet of the band’s personality. This template would inspire countless imitators, with each subsequent generation increasing the decibel count. Their previous effort (Face to Face) took a giant step away from the power chords that initially made them such an important band. Virtually all of the material here (“Love Me Til the Sun Shines” excepted) was constructed with a more subtle approach in terms of style and arrangement. Augmented only by occasional brass or keyboard parts, Something Else sounds like nothing else released in the year of grandiose productions. This in itself has given these lovely melodies a life outside of the time frame in which they were created.
Opening strong, "David Watts" ingeniously deploys the note that follows “so” repeatedly, for maximum impact:
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa
Serious rock criticism at work here!
Primarily inspired by a bi-sexual, former officer who became obsessed with Dave Davies, the tune is driven along by Mick Avory in suitable military fashion, though it is piano based, leaving the guitars muted. The hook is infectious as is the energy generated in the performance.
“And all the girls in the neighborhood /try to go out with David Watts / They try their best but can’t succeed"
Indeed...
Further surprises came with the emergence of Dave Davies as a writer. His “Death of a Clown” is a definite highlight, holding its own amongst the compositions that brother Ray brought to the table. Combining the surrealism of Dylan's wordplay with a truly eerie but enjoyable turnaround (listen to that backing vocal courtesy of Ray's ex-wife Rasa), the sing-a-long chorus sealed its place in the UK top five during the summer of '67. Ray did contribute to this one, to give credit where it's due.
Won't someone help me to break up this crown?
Elsewhere, Dave's other two offerings ("Love Me Til the Sun Shines" and "Funny Face") bring a bit of a balance to the disc and in the case of the the former, an uptempo rock piece to open side two. The BBC radio version of this one is faster with some dexterous drum breaks toward the end courtesy of Avory.
Reality, the stock in trade of Ray's vignettes, features prominently as a theme throughout. Whether he is imagining missing the female companionship of the girl who joined him for the daily, most English ritual of taking tea ("Afternoon Tea"), musing about the drudgery of working class life, punctuated by the small reward of rolling your own ("Harry Rag") there is a sense of sadness behind some of these creations. “Lazy Old Sun” sonically demonstrates this aspect of "down", yet showcases Ray’s depth as a wordsmith. “That Lucky Old Sun”, a popular tune from 1949 (Louis Armstrong and Frankie Laine both had success with it) has a lyrical theme that finds the singer bemoaning all of the toil and struggles that life brings, “while that lucky old sun has nothin' to do /But roll around heaven all day”. Whether Davies projected this subconsciously or not, his old sun is depicted as “lazy” for not casting its glow upon him. Incorporating sun worship into the mix, he is as quick to praise our solar orb as he is to chastise it.
“I don’t mind/To spend my time/Looking for you/For you are my one reality/When I’m dead and gone/Your light will shine eternally…”
The song’s most clever line shows him to be well ahead of many of his contemporaries in terms of wordplay.
“When I was young/My world was three foot, seven inch tall/When you were young/There was no world at all…”
Lethargic music complements the mood of the lyrics perfectly, with tumbling drums at half speed, droning keyboard parts and a stoned lead vocal. The overall sound drifts close to certain tracks from Their Satanic Majesties Request which also qualifies it as “Stoned”. Certainly the closest that R. Davies ever came to emulating the psychedelic experience on record.
Disappearing sunshine only adds to the air of melancholy that pervades throughout. Endings take precedence over beginnings. As the long happy afternoons of the summer of love began to shorten, bowing to the inevitable change that would usher in chilly fall evenings, this beautiful set was brought to the marketplace.
End of the Season
On a side note, if the brilliant "Autumn Almanac" had been included on the original release, it would have been a coup. I cannot think of a better fit with an album that is positively redolent of Fall.
(Kick off "Tin Soldier Man" and "No Return" to bring in this track and "Wonderboy" and you have a perfect 10.)
Nothing could have followed "Waterloo Sunset", wisely chosen as the closer. Originally titled "Liverpool Sunset", Davies intention was to create a tribute to the Northern port city, cradle of the "Mersey Sound" that spawned the Beatles and their Liverpudlian contemporaries. This approach was dropped, though it would be interesting to find out how this would have sounded had he followed his initial train of thought. The focus is shifted instead to the lonely observer ("but I don't need no friends"), who watches the lovers (Terry and Julie) meet at Waterloo Station. Pure poetry at its finest, working within the bounds of a melodic pop masterpiece.
Pity that people roundly ignored an album of such quality when it was originally released. It unfairly missed the charts and sank commercially. This was due in part to the fact that no attempt was made to run with fashionable themes of the day. Fortunately, the fullness of time has revealed the subtlety and ingenuity behind these songs. Ray Davies was ahead of the curve-audiences would simply have to catch up. Had they listened a bit more charitably, they would have realized just how strong this LP was.
One of the top five Kinks records, without question.
Released as a document of the ill-starred 1973 tour with the Stray Gators, this is a very nervous record.
I like it a lot.
"My least favorite record is Time Fades Away. I think it's the worst record I ever made - but as a documentary of what was happening to me, it was a great record. I was onstage and I was playing all these songs that nobody had heard before, recording them, and I didn't have the right band. It was just an uncomfortable tour. It was supposed to be this big deal - I just had Harvest out, and they booked me into ninety cities. I felt like a product, and I had this band of all-star musicians that couldn't even look at each other. It was a total joke."
Out of print on vinyl and still not available on CD are the top two reasons that this rough gem is filed under forgotten music.
THE SETUP
"Harvest" was a huge hit, "Heart of Gold" went to number one and Neil was riding high following his work with CSNY and Crazy Horse. The next logical step was to bring the mellow, back porch sounds of his recent LP on a lucrative tour. Heavyweight players from the "Harvest" sessions were drafted, though one member of the band didn't make it past rehearsals.
Danny Whitten was Neil's right hand in the first incarnation of Crazy Horse on second guitar and vocals. He was talented but headed down a path of heavy substance abuse, leading Neil to dump Crazy Horse for awhile. Whitten was invited to join the new touring outfit based on word that he was in the process of straightening himself out.
He wasn't.
'We were rehearsing with him and he just couldn't cut it. He couldn't remember anything. He was too out of it. Too far gone. I had to tell him to go back to L.A. 'It's not happening, man. You're not together enough.' He just said, 'I've got nowhere else to go, man. How am I gonna tell my friends?' And he split. That night the coroner called me from L.A. and told me he'd ODed. That blew my mind. Fucking blew my mind. I loved Danny. I felt responsible. And from there, I had to go right out on this huge tour of huge arenas. I was very nervous and . . . insecure.'
Casting a pall over the tour, the negativity would only be exacerbated with disputes about money and a set of brand new songs that Young wanted to try out and record live.
Switching to a Gibson Flying V that refused to stay in tune, blowing out his voice (Crosby and Nash were brought on board late in the tour to help with vocals) and pissing off fans in packed stadia at every stop by presenting sets of unfamiliar material were all events that marred Young's 90 day trek.
The result was worth it.
Making no attempt to be cuddly, rough edges are left in, capturing things on the fly. Real, though not radio-friendly, Young would be frustrated with his audience and their inability to move with him. Opening with a pounding, uptempo country raver that introduces "fourteen junkies, too weak to work" down on "pain street", the subject matter stands apart from what his contemporaries were singing about. It was the antithesis of the sunny California, singer-songwriter trip which was then in vogue.
Canada features in the lyrics of the title track and "Journey Through the Past", which boasts a great melody and had been around in his set for some time before seeing official release on Time Fades Away. (you can hear it on the BBC session and the Massey Hall gig from 1971). A gentle song that catches the author in a reflective mood, it provides a softer contrast to the junkies on pain street. This was one of three solo piano spots on the disc, each offering a quiet musical snapshot.
"LA' is one of my favorites on the set, with a haunting refrain ("LA... city in the smog..uptight...") and creeping steel part (courtesy of the late Ben Keith) that comes closest in feel to the material on Harvest. Too many artists in the "alt-country" genre have based their sound completely on this musical model, though they fail to create the same mood. (weak songs, little originality) "Don't Be Denied" is autobiographical in tone, covering being beaten up in school through to jumping the border and helping to form Buffalo Springfield. There's an excellent version of it with CSNY at Wembley at the close of their 74 tour. The riff is simple, but effective when married to the pleading nature of the chorus.
"Last Dance" folks, but no one was dancing when a very drunk Young was screaming at the audience in Cleveland ("Get up!!") and making ungodly noise on his out of tune Flying V. That particular performance doesn't show up here, though I kind of wish that it did. Turgidity reigns: this one could have been edited to make room for another cut. Young always had songs in his back pocket and set lists from this tour reveal tunes that are unreleased to this day ("Sweet Joni" being a case in point.)
While it was not greeted warmly by fans or critics, charting outside the top 20, it's an important release. Never before had a major artist put out a live disc, comprised of all new material, with nary a hit single to be found.
Imagine the balls that it took to present this to the record company.
Now it's quite sought after and opinions have since (of course) been revised, though you won't see it released on CD anytime soon. The sonic problem with "Time Fades Away" is stated on the LP label: "This Recording Was Mastered16-Track/DirectToDisc (acetate) by Computer."
The multi-track master tape was recorded/mixed LIVE, leaving little room for remixing tape hiss, bad notes and crowd noise. To reassemble the album, someone would need to sort through fifty or so ¼" and/or 2" multi-track reels and "a few" cassettes. Finding the right version by date would be easy enough, but at what stage would the mix be at? Raw recording? Truck monitor mix? Mono PA monitor recording?
Right.
Best just to snag it on vinyl, as I did when my cassette copy finally died.
Rush has a fantastic new disc out called Clockwork Angels. Being over a week late to the party, I have only just picked it up and taken it for a spin. Two listens thus far have confirmed that this is top class work.
I would normally submit a review in this space, but in the words of Krusty the Klown...
"I'm a lazy, lazy man."
Fortunately, Paul Lesinski over at Isorski's Musings has solved my problem with his terrific write up on the new album. As a musician and longtime fan of the band, his take is informed and spot on. Before you head on over there, take a quick look at the cover art.
The time is 9:12...or as expressed in terms of the 24 hour clock in the evening, the time would then read as
21:12
That's not the only nod to their past here. The astute listener will hear choice samples of Rush riffs from the mists of the seventies (Bastille Day is quoted at one point).
He's been a Beatle, an MBE, he's been dead, high, a solo artist, a Wing commander, a father, a widower, prisoner, humanitarian crusader, vegetarian, multi-instrumentalist, award winner, influence on millions, Guinness world record holder and a knight.
Above all, James Paul McCartney is without question the most successful and widely interpreted composer of his generation.
Today he becomes a septuagenarian.
He also happens to be one of my favorite musicians. Happy Birthday, Macca!
Here are a ton of Sir Paul clips. Enjoy... (cue the Theme from Mahogany)
Packing more flash on stage than Neil Diamond's jacket, Rush have long been respected for their instrumental prowess. Heading toward the forty year mark as a recording unit, they will soon be unveiling a new disc called "Clockwork Angels".
What more can be said about this venerable rock trio?
Plenty
Traveling back to the summer of 1974, the group had a debut album under their belt and faced the difficult task of replacing their drummer (John Rutsey), whose health issues precluded his involvement with an upcoming US tour.
Enter Neil Peart.
Rutsey had been a fine drummer, though Peart was an explosive player with technical skills beyond those of his predecessor. He also was/is somewhat of an introverted sort, who preferred the charms of good literature over throwing himself headlong into crowds to socialize. Seizing upon the fact that they had a writer in their midst, Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson handed off the task of creating lyrics to their new member.
Creatively, Fly By Night was an astounding leap forward for the band. With their first record, they had been merely reflecting the styles of early 70s hard rock (Led Zep), rather than charting their own course. Stylistically, residual bits from their debut are still present ("Best I Can", "In the End"), though it's no coincidence that both tunes have zero input from Peart in terms of writing credits.
"Anthem" heralds the arrival of a new attitude.
Anthem of the heart and anthem of the mind
A funeral dirge for eyes gone blind
We marvel after those who sought
The wonders of the world, wonders of the world,
Wonders of the world they wrought
Light years distant from "Hey baby, it's a quarter to eight", Peart drove home these couplets with fierce triplets, beautifully executed rolls and galloping ride cymbal work. Geddy's virtuoso bass lines followed the drummer around each hairpin turn, while Lifeson turned heads with guitar acrobatics that rivaled all of his peers. Lee's battle cry sealed the deal: this is where they truly became RUSH. Extra points awarded for the technical side of Fly by Night, as Terry Brown took great care to ensure that everything went to tape in pristine fashion. His not so secret weapons? Studer 24-track recorder + Neve mixing console. Haul out your vinyl copy and compare it to other hard rock recordings of that period: the final mix is worthy of any audiophile's wet dream.
If you do own the LP, don't stare too long into the owl's eyes or you will feel a sudden urge to start sleeping through the day...
Critically, this set hasn't received a fair shake, which is a shame, as it is certainly not a minor work. The title track still garners heavy play on classic rock radio, hanging its hat on Lifeson's rippling arpeggios. Epic piece here is "By-Tor and the Snow Dog" which would serve as a signpost of the long-form, album side-gobbling compositions lurking just around the corner. "Beneath, Between and Behind" is another stand-out, obviously a group favorite, too, as it remained a staple of their live show into the next decade. Peart takes a not so thinly veiled swipe at the culture that he viewed south of the Canadian border while touring. His scattershot wordplay is earnest as it is interesting, while the riff is taken wholly from the solo section of Zep II's "Heartbreaker". To be fair, they run it through a shifting series of time signatures with monster chops supporting the entire affair.
"Making Memories" still grabs my ear as being a one-off in the Rush discography. They never quite structured anything in this manner before or since. Very underrated early tune complete with a tasty slide solo.
Fly By Night won new converts with an infusion of experimentation, yet their collective feet were still planted in the "rock" camp. Still, it was a bold stake in the ground that would forge an entirely new identity for the musicians.
Breaking through the cracks of a drab, artificial musical landscape to remind us of what is real, Blade of Grass will not be denied. Mixing acoustic based, harmony laden material with deep grooves and some reggae thrown on the canvas to brighten the sonic picture, the writing is stellar. Additional kudos to these guys for not allowing their vocal tracks to descend deep into "pitch correction software hell", never to return. The melodies are fine, decanted in the welcome environment of real human beings playing their instruments.
My personal favorite is "Who You Gonna Run To" which employs a clever turnaround, deftly picked acoustic figures and hooks galore.
Sinewy basslines and hypnotic beats compliment their compositions, though they are always deployed in service of song structure. In short, there is a lot to like here.
Who are Blade of Grass?
Measured by their talent, they should be the pride of their native Costa Mesa, California.
The always brilliant duo return from exile with their new disc, Rize of the Fenix. Here's a taster from those dirty descendants of Simon and Garfunkel, dipped in metal. JB and KG each sport a gleam in their eye that could light the way out of the deepest mine shaft
Another great talent has passed on too soon. Robin Gibb, 62, was an integral part of the international success of the Bee Gees, writing and performing countless hits along with brothers Maurice (who died in 2003) and Barry.
Gibb's health problems began to mount in 2010, with hospitalizations and surgery that seemed eerily reminiscent of Maurice's woes. Early this year, in London's Daily Mail, Robin confirmed he was battling colon cancer that had spread to his liver, but noted that he "mostly felt great." Emergency surgery followed, as did canceled appearances. Most telling, he missed the London premiere of his first classical work, The Titanic Requiem, commemorating the 100th anniversary of the ship disaster.
In April, he slipped into a coma after contracting pneumonia, but rallied, a development his doctor called "remarkable."
In a 2010 Q-and-A with the Guardian, Robin was asked what music he'd like to have played at his funeral.
Some Mozart, he replied, and also How Deep Is Your Love.
May 22nd will see the re-release of RAM, a deluxe package of the second McCartney solo disc.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is an album from a long, long time ago, when the world was different. This is an album that is part of my history – it goes back to the wee hills of Scotland where it was formed. It’s an album called RAM. It reminds me of my hippie days and the free attitude with which it was created. I hope you’re going to like it, because I do!”. (Paul McCartney)
RAM will be available in a number of different formats: a single CD remastered in stereo, a CD set with an eight-track collection of rarities, a one or two vinyl LP set (digital tracks included) and a box set consisting of a 112-page book, photo prints, full-size facsimiles of Paul’s handwritten lyrics and notes, four CDs and a historical DVD.
Very sad to hear of the passing of Duck Dunn, four string soul brother who anchored the rhythm section of Booker T and the MGs since the early 1960s. His style was very straightforward, always in the pocket. Part of the Stax house wrecking crew, he played on countless records by Otis Redding, Sam and Dave...well, just too many to name-check here.
"Today I lost my best friend," Steve Cropper wrote on his Facebook page. "The World has lost the best guy and bass player to ever live".
One of the great surprises in listening to contemporary music is finding bands/artists that don't fall prey to the sonic tools that have homogenized the sounds currently dominating radio play lists.
Crazy Mary offer the alternative.
Reaching back to an era where real people played music, that spirit of communal joy is infused in the grooves of their latest offering. Formed in New York back in 1998, Dreaming in Brilliant Color is the band's 10th release. Right out of the gate, "Come On Let's Go" is an exhortation to shake you out of complacency, bring you to your feet and join the party. Infectious and smart, the only choice for the listener is to comply. Highlights here include the dreamy "Song For A New Year", "Fallen Angel" and the experimental, yet very cool closer "Nick's New Groove".
Violinist Walter Steding brings another dimension to the band's sound, while vocalist Em Z graces the songs that guitarist/writer Charles Kibel brought to the sessions with her own unique style. Their blend of psychedelia, post rock sensibilities and soulful playing make for a rewarding listen, though you have to spin it a few times to truly take it all in.
Do yourself a favor and check out this record. Learn more about Crazy Mary here
Straddling a line between beguiling creations ("Fallen Angel", "One More Red Nightmare") and noodling that strays into the ether ("Providence", "Starless"), Red still comes across as an astonishing slab of progressive rock. Inscrutable, impeccable figures are drawn from guitarist Robert Fripp's capable hands, with John Wetton and Bill Bruford contributing very busy and inspired foundation work.
Opening with the powerful instrumental title track, the trio clearly relish the opportunity to play games with time signatures in support of Fripp's ambitious lines. Dark synth sweeps creep in toward the three minute mark, interpolating with the ever inventive guitar work as the rhythm section disappears. Much like an ominous, passing cloud burst, this gives way for the full band to take up the theme all the way to its glorious finish.
Timeless
Wetton's vocals hit the spot on all three tracks that showcase them, while Bruford brings his usual percussive brilliance to the proceedings. His anticipation for playing the spaces in between the notes and tasteful approach remind the listener that he's top class when opportunities to dazzle present themselves.
"One More Red Nightmare" flies in guitar parts from another dimension.
Ghostly mellotron (courtesy of Fripp) announces the multi-layered "Starless", which is quite engaging for its length. Free form, jazzy sections mingle with dreamier interludes in an extremely successful marriage. Nary a note is left unexplored as all players go for improvisational gold.
Violinist David Cross excels.
Armchair rock critic Kurt Cobain thought this disc to be one of the finest of all time. Tough to argue as your brain takes in clever arrangements, packed with an array of sonic surprises around every corner. Strings and wind instruments are deployed in a manner that bring an air of majesty to the table, yet they do not overwhelm what the core instrumentalists are laying down. Check your pulse if you are not properly inspired out of your skull after spinning this esoteric masterpiece.
Red is the soundtrack of the future...even today.
Fripp walked away from King Crimson before the release of Red in the fall of 1974 and no supporting tour was undertaken. Outside of a live disc (USA) that was issued in 1975, there was no further band activity until 1981.
