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Spinning Greatest Hits — from “Roxanne” to “Every Breath You Take,” it's wall-to-wall classics
Punk, pop, and precision — remastered at Abbey Road.
The Police - Greatest Hits - LP Album
A classic hard rock album by DIO
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A record from my vinyl record collection, Black Sabbath's classic album Paranoid.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sq9Am-lcG0U
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A record from my vinyl record collection, Scorpions eight album, Blackout.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYxnOVVUK9c
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A record from my hard rock and heavy metal vinyl record collection. Black Sabbath's first album.
Black Sabbath - Black Sabbath :
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KnyL4IFcwo
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The Ramones. The debut album. 1976. Say it again – 1976. Wings, ELO, Queen and their ilk stalked the airwaves back then. And then… da Brudders! From Noo Yoik. Wuntoofreefaw! Immortals. Except everybody on the album cover is now dead. Live fast, die young. Hard to believe that a leather jacket used to scare tha bejeezus out of people. The Ramones might be a one-trick pony, but what a trick. Fast downstroke guitar riffs, big splash cymbals, one note bass, caveman drums, handclaps when necessary, Joey’s ’singing’ and ‘dumb’ lyrics about gluesniffing, going into the basement, chain saws, turning tricks on 53rd and 3rd, beating on brats, blitzkrieg bops. All songs done in usually under two minutes. To be this dumb, especially in 1976, was a stroke of brilliance. Ever heard ‘Tales From Topographic Oceans’? I mean, really…
The Ramones loved simple rocknroll and Sixties pop. They played fast power pop punk with a dribbling smile and a sneer. Every punk band in England saw them play the Roundhouse in 1976. Gamechanger. The world would’ve been very different without them. If you haven’t heard them for a while, slap this on, crank it up and jump around. Hey-ho, let’s go.
Miles Davis, ‘Kind of Blue’, 1959. Jazz. Nice. The preserve of weirdos and Geography teachers, obvs. In the canon though are gems that transcend genre and boxes. This album is one of them. If you had to own just one Jazz LP, man, then this is it. I bought a copy as a student: part of my wider education. It was name-checked so much in the pages of the NME and elsewhere that it needed to be heard. If you think you’ve never heard it, it’s like classical music – you might not know the name, but you’ll have heard it. Or, at least, a copy of something like it. It’s ur-Jazz: influential and still a touchstone over 60 years later. Even the cover is legendary. Clean, uncluttered, Miles lost in music.
Five tunes recorded over two sessions with a super slick simpatico band, each track largely improvised and done as one take. Davis gave the players ‘sketches’ and told them to play what they feel. Opening track, ‘So What’, is the touchstone. ‘All Blues’ fulfils the Platonic Conception of a Jazz instrumental. Cool, daddio. This is a smooth, loose but tight collection and, sonically, they sound great. Everything gels but not in a hard, be-bop, in-yer-face way. Rippling piano, brushed drums, fluid bass notes, muted horns. And John Coltrane on sax, the other Jazz guy that everyone’s heard of. If aliens ever land, we should play them this, along with a bit of Bach, to prove we’re not savages but evolved beings…
A record from my vinyl record collection, Metallica´s third album, Master of Puppets.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=kV-2Q8QtCY4
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AC/DC, ‘Back in Black, 1980. None. None more black…
#lockdown #vinyl #albumcover #webilicious #classicalbum #mojo
Frank Sinatra, ‘Strangers in the Night’, 1966. A Grammy-winning platinum seller. Frank set up the Reprise label so he could release the music he wanted to release. He was right. Nelson Riddle leading the orchestra. The title track alone a stone-cold classic. An album that’s smooth and easy or big and swinging, with Hammond B3 organ too and occasional guitar from Glen Campbell. With Frank it’s all about the phrasing. It’s difficult to sing along with Frank. Try it and you’ll find it nigh impossible to follow him note for note. And yet he makes it sound as easy as breathing. Shoo-be-doo be-doo…
Wendy Carlos, ‘Switched-On Bach’, 1968. A million seller from, then, Walter Carlos (who underwent a sex change in 1972). Simple idea: Bach tunes played on the newly invented Moog synth. Kitsch, futuristic, this album helped open the flood gates to electronics in music. She went on to do the soundtrack for the original ‘Tron’ movie.
I thought I saw another boob building again, but the truth is... I actually pictured this classic song called "Balls To The Wall", released by the German Heavy Metal band Accept in 1983, the year I was born.
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Start your weekend with a song about slaves that break free at work, to get your
BALLS TO THE WALL, man!
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#ballstothewall #accept #startyourweekend #dirkschneider #heavymetal #germanmetal #classicalbums #alltimeclassic #anderlecht #bruzz #bspf #brusselblogt #brussels #boobbuilding #twintowers #tittytwister #thetittytwister #interestingbuildings #Belgianarchitecture #seemybrussels #visitbrussels #putaanderlecht #brusselsworld
Bob Dylan. ‘Time Out of Mind’, 1997. The album that saved El Zimmo. Bob had been drifting for a decade or so, playing gigs with diminishing returns. A near fatal illness kicked him into shape. This album is intense, focused, real. Daniel Lanois, who’d worked with U2 and Eno, played on, and produced, this set of songs. It sounds live and stripped back with Bob’s voice up front, close and personal. OK, his sandpaper-and-glue voice hurts some ears, but on this album, it adds depth and ballast. This is a 57-year-old man who’s done stuff. He sounds like an old Bluesman, not some mincing Jagger, on a great sounding record. The production and atmosphere created make this one of Dylan’s best albums.
‘Love Sick’ is slow with an almost reggae lurch to it. Like most of the album, it’s all about the words. Stories whispered in your ear. This one’s about love and regret. ‘Dirt Road Blues’ is a blues shuffle with keyboard and echo on the voice. Done got old but can still tap a toe. ‘Standing In The Door’ is slow and weary with gentle guitar and Bob reminiscing again. The past has always been close behind for our Bob. This tune makes it more melancholy than usual. ‘Million Miles’ is slow, bluesy shuffle with organ chords, slow tap cymbals and guitar breaks. ‘Trying To Get to Heaven’ another tale of regrets and heartbreak and sighs. ‘Til I Fell in Love With You’ a slow blues with stinging guitar and regrets. ‘Not Dark Yet’ slow, sombre, soft drums, gorgeous guitar on a beautiful tune. Bob facing Death. It’ll give you chills. ‘Cold Irons Bound’ eerie slide and bass, echo and dread, tight licks and swinging drums. ‘Make You Feel My Love’ a love song with piano on a pretty melody. ‘Can’t Wait’ a ‘Nawlins style groove. ‘Highlands’ slide guitar drifting after hours.
I could listen to this album as an audiobook, without the music: just Bob’s voice leading me through his tales of Life. A classic.
The Doors, man. It was a toss up between their debut album and their last, ‘LA Woman’. Actually, it wasn’t. The Doors are a bit like The Stranglers: something you should grow out of really (no offence and RIP Dave Greenfield). But ‘LA Woman’ still holds up, mainly because it’s shorn of all the psychedelic whimsy, bombast and bad poetry. It’s a great set of tight but loose, almost funky, songs. The lyrics are ‘normal’, none of the usual ‘weird scenes inside the goldmine’ nonsense. Back to basics.
The band kinda knew this was their last album and they had fun with it. They produced by themselves, playing live in a small studio, with a bassist to flesh it out (Jerry Scheff who went on to be part of Elvis’s TCB band). ‘The Changeling’ kicks it off with a drum beat before chugging rhythm swings in. Jim yelps before kicking in, setting the tone for his vocals on the album: gruff, loose, bluesy, Rawk! ‘Love Her Madly’ is swinging piano and drums, a great poppy tune. ‘Been Down so Long’ a straight beat 12 bar blues with slide guitar, Jim howling inna Blues style. ‘Cars Hiss By My Window’ is slooow Jimmy Reed 12 bar blues with brushed snares, Jim almost crooning, fluid picking by Robby Kreiger on axe. There are no histrionics apart from Jim impersonating a muted blues harp towards the end. Title track ‘LA Woman’ ending Side 1 is still perfection: a fast driving rhythm, the band locked. Jim was fat, bloated, bearded and apparently sang naked in darkness whilst recording vocals. It’s a great performance. His swansong.
Side 2 kicks off with ‘L’America’ with slowly picked guitar, then piano, then bass before picking up pace with military drums on a one chord almost Latin yomp before finally exploding into a boogie chug and back again. ‘Hyacinth House’ could almost be CSN&Y ballad with gorgeous organ. ‘Crawling King Snake’ is John Lee Hooker blues, Jim moaning over dirty guitar licks. ‘The Wasp’ is big chug guitar and big bass with Jim high in the mix, spoken word, the drums spitting and swinging. Slinky. ‘Riders on the Storm’ ends the whole thing. A masterclass in production, mood and atmospherics - the bass and Fender Rhodes piano alone making it special. The guitar patterns and shapes, beyond smooth. Jim’s voice calm and measured.
After recording, Jim went to Paris and died of an overdose. The songs on this album don’t sound like a man who’d given up.
The Psychedelic Furs, debut album, 1980. This was before ‘Pretty in Pink’ and relative pop stardom. Punk pop with a large dollop of early Goth and psychedelia, obvs. A band who grew up listening to the Velvet Underground and all that good stuff. Richard Butler on vocals with a nasty sneer. Big drums, big bass, big guitars, smoothed out with keyboards.
‘India’ comes in with two minutes of minor-key keyboard chords before drums and bass kick in and four minutes of riffage. Good start. ‘Sister Europe’ big slow echo drenched bass and drums with dirty sax on a moody groove. ‘Imitation of Christ’ jangly guitar and sax blast with a great chorus. ‘Fall’ almost Stax horns if it weren’t for the chopped guitar and Glitter band drum stomp. ‘Pulse’ pounding bass driven with solid riff and Velvets drums and Butler’s whine. ‘We Love You’ is pure Velvets, nicking the riff to ‘Waiting For the Man’, with a long list of things Butler loves. ‘Wedding Song’ funky drummer, almost, keyboard wash and Arabic sax. And Butler’s whine making this deeply unromantic. ‘Blacks/Radio’ another riff with sax and noise and general relentless Riffage. ‘Flowers’ another banger.
So, a riff fest dipped in something unsavoury. Fun!
Performance’, Original Soundtrack, 1970. I love this film directed by Nic Roeg. Starring James Fox and Mick Jagger, it was shot in 1968 when the Stones were at the height of meaningful Satanic Majesty-ness. The film was delayed until 1970 because Warner Brothers hated it. Famously at a pre-screening an Executive’s wife threw up, so soiled and nasty were the images on screen.
There have been umpteen books written about the film and lots of tales, which I won’t bother to go into here. Oh alright, just one. Co-star James Fox had a breakdown after filming, left acting and became a Christian missionary for 10 years. Suffice to say it’s one of the best British films of the Sixties or any decade. It captures the zeitgeist better than anything else from that period. The ultimate sex, drugs, rock n roll experience.
The soundtrack works on its own. Some rockers like ‘Gone Dead Train, moody atmospheric slide guitar by Ry Cooder on ‘Powis Square’, jaw harp, tablas and sitar on ‘The Hashishin’, eerie early synth drones, scary vocals from Merry Clayton (who sang on the Stones’ ‘Gimme Shelter’), trippy flute and strings on Jack Nitzche produced tracks, a lush MOR instrumental in ‘Harry Flowers’, proto-rap in The Last Poets ‘Wake Up, Niggers’ and a solo Jagger tune in ‘Memo to Turner’. This is not ‘The Sound of Music’…
If you’ve never seen the film, do.
Funkadelic, ‘Funkadelic’, 1970. Debut album from George Clinton’s psychedelic funk band. Clinton had mainstream hits in the Seventies with the same players under the name Parliament. This was the out-there, acid-rock version, achieving total heaviosity, man. Seven extended jams drenched in echo with fuzzed guitar, wah-wah, wailing keyboards, deep bass, sloppy drums and Superfly lyrics; ‘nothing is good unless you play with it’ and ‘Soul is a ham hock in your cornflakes’. Tight but loose, up for the down stroke, on The One but acid-fried and dark. Sure ain’t The Jackson Five…
Bob Dylan. I love Bob, me. ‘Blonde on Blonde’ and ‘Highway 61 Revisited’ from his ‘60s output are worthy of repeated visits. OK, that voice puts a lot of people off, but the melodies and words make it worth the effort. ‘Blood on the Tracks’ is the masterpiece, the one I’d take to the island.
They say that when men hit 33, they have their ‘Christ phase’. That’s the age Jesus died. Men question what it’s all about and attempt to do something meaningful, worthwhile, mature. Bob was 33, divorced, the Sixties well and truly over, Vietnam still dragging on, Watergate crushing any remaining illusion that America was land of the free, home of the brave. So, Bob comes up with his greatest set of ‘story’ songs. Songs of love, loss, growing old. Great lyrics and some of his best ever tunes.
‘Tangled Up in Blue’ kicks it off. This song alone makes it all worthwhile. ‘Simple Twist of Fate’ slows it down with gentle strum and light touch. ‘You’re a Big Girl’ with gorgeous picking and yearning vocal. ‘Idiot Wind’ with swirling organ and maliciously funny put-down lyrics. ‘You’re Gonna Make me Lonesome When you Go’, slow bass and jangly guitar with happy-sad tune. ‘Meet me in the Morning’ lurching bluesily with weary picking and high hat. ‘If You See Her, Say Hello’, acoustic guitars and heartbreak. ‘Shelter from the Storm’ should be played at every wedding on the planet, by law. ‘Buckets of Rain’ ends the album with gorgeous guitar and bubbling bass sending us off with a smile on our faces.
An album for grown-ups, of all ages.
Siouxsie & The Banshees, ‘The Scream’, 1978. The debut album. Post-punk before that was even a thing. ‘Pure’ sets the mood. Echo, sparse drums, Siouxsie’s banshee wail. ‘Jigsaw Feeling’ pounding tribal drums and metal guitar riff with Siouxsie swooping down. ‘Overground’ slow slashing guitar with rolling toms and rat-a-tat. ‘Carcass’ riff and stomp. ‘Helter Skelter’ starts slow with single bass note before exploding with fierce guitar. The Beatles ripped apart. ‘Mirage’ phased guitar and acoustic chug with solid drum pound. ‘Metal Postcard’ like a demented Kurt Weill tune with more slashing guitar. ‘Nicotine Stain’ another grinding riff. ‘Suburban Relapse’ intense riffing, thunder drums, and saxophone for added room-clearing dissonance. ‘Switch’ starts slow, building up then dropping away before returning, the guitar distorted, loud and proud.
Not an easy listen but Siouxsie’s voice and the overall noise still sounds unique. Indeed, you can hear elements of this album in pretty much every post-punk, alt-rock band ever since. It’s amazing they ended up effectively becoming a pop band, having hits, appearing on ‘Top of the Pops’ and the pages of ‘Smash Hits’…
Isaac Hayes, ‘Hot Buttered Soul’, 1969. A classic. Four tunes. Extended grooves. The Bar-Kays providing the rhythm. Strings and horns add sophisticated lushness. Hayes was the main producer at Stax records so knew how to record music. By 1969 the world had gotten heavy, man. This isn’t Otis-Redding-in-a-suit fare. It’s Soul, baby, but funky and trippy. Hayes had complete control over the project, playing Hammond organ and singing live. ‘Walk On By’ is slow and bluesy with rock guitar lines, transforming the original over 12 minutes of slinkiness. ‘Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic’ channels wah-wah and coming on strong like a Funkadelic sex machine. I always think of Huggy Bear in ‘Starsky & Hutch’. ‘One Woman’ is slow balladry with piano and Hayes’ deep baritone dripping honey-sweet with lurve. The main event is ‘By The Time I Get to Phoenix’. 19 minutes of slow brooding atmosphere. The first eight minutes is Isaac talking and telling a tale of love and a broken heart over a Hammond drone. Then the song floats in, building slowly, gradually rising and rising before eventually fading away with a single Hammond chord. Intense.
New York Dolls, ‘New York Dolls’, 1973. Sex, drugs, rock n roll from Noo Yoik! The debut album that sold zilch but, like the Stooges, MC5 and Velvet Underground, helped influence Punk and saved the world. Guitarist Sylvain Sylvain just died, making singer David Johansen the only member left alive. They looked like Glam Rock transvestites who grew up with proper rock n roll, (like Bo Diddley, whose ‘Pills’ they cover here). Their mission was to make rock sexy and fun again in the face of 20-minute Prog piano solos. They succeeded, not least because they had Johnny Thunders on guitar. (Was there ever a cooler name for a guitar player?) Just the band name and cover got them banned.
Big dumb chords, slashing guitars, riffs, tight but sloppy drums, Cro-Magnon bass, dazed ballads, slouching sax, louche vocals and yelps, hand claps even. Sleazy trash-junky fun. Famously described as ‘mock rock’ they were 4 Real. ‘Jet Boy’ alone secures their place in the Book of Rock. Play LOUD!
Marianne Faithfull, ‘Broken English’, 1979. Her masterpiece. Marianne had a cool Sixties, being Mick Jagger’s girlfriend and all. The Seventies were grim. Drug addiction and homelessness. Her voice became cracked and raspy. This album brought her back from the dead, literally and metaphorically. A varied collection of songs with new wave guitar and Stevie Winwood on keyboards. ‘Broken English’ a grinding chug. ‘Witches’ Song’ melancholy acoustic strum, Faithfull’s voice broken and sad. ‘Brain Drain’ slow and bluesy and pulsing. ‘Guilt’ squeasy unease over atmospheric keyboards. ‘The Ballad of Lucy Jordan’ – Faithfull makes the tale of suburban disillusionment her own. ‘What’s The Hurry?’ a solid chug with drones and Faithfull’s voice rattling over it. ‘Working Class Hero’ moody percussion and bass, almost Floydian, with bursts of guitar. Good version. ‘Why’d Ya Do It’ reggae-fied with rude words as Marianne channels Grace Jones and slags a lover. Choon! Marianne Faithfull: imperious and haughty but vulnerable too. She talked it like she walked it.
‘Rockabilly Psychosis & the Garage Disease’, 1984. Compilation album from Big Beat Records, cashing in on the rockabilly craze of the day led by bands like the Meteors. An alternative to New Romantic nonsense. I loved this stuff. It has modern bands like the aforementioned Meteors, Guana Batz, Gun Club and the Cramps, all doing their take on Fifties rock n roll, rockabilly, garage band psychedelia. What sold it to me was original versions of songs that I’d only heard as cover versions. The Sonics ‘Psycho’, The Phantom ‘Love Me’, The Trashmen ‘Surfin’ Bird’, Hasil Adkins ‘She Said’ - classics all. I mean, Screamin’! To seal the deal, The Legendary Stardust Cowboy and ‘Paralysed’, an influence on Bowie and where Ziggy got his surname. Truly one of the most demented songs ever committed to vinyl…
Jimi Hendrix Experience, ‘Are You Experienced?’, 1967. The Summer of Love, Sgt Pepper’s, and this debut album. It’s hard for us now to realise just how big an impact Hendrix made back then. Beyond the myth and legend, which doesn’t need telling here, there’s the music. Hendrix had the chops but loved what the studio could do. This album is a Sixties classic that still holds up.
I’ve gone for the US release of this album as it includes singles that flopped in the US first time around: ‘Purple Haze’, ‘Hey Joe’, ‘The Wind Cries Mary’. Flops? Can you imagine? Stone cold classics each. ‘Wind Cries Mary’ is a lovely ballad, demonstrating Jimi wasn’t all sturm und drang guitar attack. ‘Manic Depression’ blasts away in waltz time. ‘May This Be Love’ is gentle and fluid. ‘Third Stone From the Sun’ is rippling and jazzy and atmospheric with a great riff and guitar break. It’s about planet Earth, man. ‘Foxy Lady’ is just a great dirty riff and electricity. ‘Fire’ is a solid, funky, fast danceable blaze of a tune. ‘I Don’t Live Today’ another riff. ‘Are You Experienced’ sounds like Vietnam with chiming piano, backwards guitar, trippy lyrics and guitar.
For a trio, the Experience made a big sound. Mitch Mitchell’s drumming swings from jazzy to straight balls-out rockin’. Noel on bass keeps things locked. Hendrix never liked the sound of his own voice, but I’ve always liked it. It’s Hendrix on guitar that makes it all special though, obvs. It’s an extension of him, notes and chords tumbling out as easy as breathing. He looked cool too. Legend.
Killing Joke, ‘What’s THIS For…!, 1981. Rampaging wardance tunes but with an almost funky feel amongst the tribal drums, enormo-bass and slashing guitar chords. Guaranteed to clear a room. T’Joke were one of the angriest bands in the Thatcher-era, which was stacked with angry bands. Think Crass with better tunes. ‘Tension’ is the standout track for me. Pummelling.
The Slits, ‘Cut’, 1979. Before Riot Grrls, Spice Girls, Pussy Riot, there was The Slits. They toured with The Clash and Joe Strummer taught lead vocalist Ari Up how to play guitar. Ari was raised in Germany (her mum, Nora, married Johnny Rotten) so English wasn’t her first language. This gives the vocals a strange Nico/Marlene Dietrich vibe. Viv Albertine’s guitar scrabbles and scratches with metallic choppiness and wiggly strings. This mixed with the reggae feel of the band creates a unique sound. Reggae musician Dennis Bovell produced the album and his sonic dub textures fuse the punky energy, bass runs, female vocals, and drummer Budgie’s fills and beats, into a skanking, woozy, funny, scary, jagged burst of danceable noise. ‘Typical Girls’ is the almost poppy single, attacking mainstream definitions of beauty. It’s a classic. ‘Adventures Close to Home’ about making your own fun and destiny. ‘Instant Hit’ and ‘Newtown’ face down empty lives and heroin. ‘FM’ mind control via the radio playlist. ‘Shoplifting’ and ‘Spend, Spend, Spend’ consumerism without a budget. ‘Love und Romance’ and ‘Ping Pong Affair’ looking at love and relationships.
The whole thing is still strange today. Punk, as an attitude oozes, from the grooves. Clips on Youtube show how ragged, different and in-your-face they were. The Slits. Girl Power. 4 real.
Tom Verlaine, ‘Warm and Cool’, 1992. Tom Verlaine was the cool but nerdy one of the Noo Yoik ‘70s Punk scene. Indeed, he was the one who found CBGBs as a venue for his band Television to play in and started that whole scene. Television split after two albums: the thrill of the New Wave had gone and the New Romantic Soundtrack to Thatcherism ruled the airwaves. Shudder.
Anyway, Tom released solo albums with varying degrees of success. This album is all instrumentals, just Tom playing various tunes on different guitars with Television’s drummer Billy Ficca playing too. Most of it was played live in the studio with the amps set low for a close-up and intimate atmosphere, even on the ‘loud’ tracks. I saw him play at the 100 Club once, just him with Jimmy Rip on second guitar. Pin-drop silence through the set as we watched two relaxed gents, sitting down, noodling and trading licks.
‘Those Harbor Lights’ slow echoey atmosphere with gently picked strings. ‘Sleepwalkin’’ bouncy with happy lick. ‘The Deep Dark Clouds’ guitar strangling. Intense. ‘Space Crash’ gentle picking. ‘Depot (1951)’ string thrumming and more intensity and splashing cymbals. ‘Boulevard’ soft and jazzy twang. ‘Harley Quinn’ is the whole of Television playing on a tight nimble exercise in well placed notes and languid rhythm. ‘Sor Juanna’ ambient and Floydian and echo. ‘Depot (1957)’ mean and moody with string rattle. ‘Spiritual’ slow bass notes and sparse guitar. ‘Little Dance’ waltzy cheapo guitar, like the Young Marble Giants. ‘Ore’ spacey effects and slow tap. ‘Depot (1958)’ floats scarily past. ‘Lore’ dark and brooding.
It’s all about the atmospherics! Muzak for a lift in a David Lynch hotel. I got my copy signed when Television reformed and visited MTV where I was working. Fan Boy…
‘Easy Rider’, OST, 1969. The film that rewrote Hollywood. Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper as drug dealers driving to Nawlins, with a soundtrack of contemporary music. Low budget, it made millions and Hollywood realised there was money in them thar longhaired weirdos. The film still holds up. The people making it were the same as the audience it was intended for. You know, freaks, man…
As a compilation reflecting the times it’s a great set of tunes. ‘Pusher Man’ by Steppenwolf opens the film, a big dirty guitar gem. ‘Born To Be Wild’ by same still rocks and, onscreen, is the perfect song for the visuals. ‘The Weight’ is sung by the Band in the film but, for contractual reasons, is sung by Smith(?) here. Great song. ‘Wasn’t Born to Follow’ is country tinged from The Byrds with phasing for du jour psychedelic sway. ‘If You Want to Be a Bird’ by the Holy Modal Rollers is silly folk psychedelia. They were a hip act back in the day. ‘Don’t Bogart that Joint’, by the Fraternity of Man is stoned singalong. ‘If Six Was Nine’ is Jimi Hendrix, although his Estate now tries to remove any link between Jimi and the drug counterculture. Hendrix anywhere is cool, but in a film in 1969 is magical. ‘Kyrie Eleison’ by the Electric Prunes is full on psych workout with choral voices, perfect for the scene it’s used in, (an acid trip in a graveyard in case you’re wondering, man). Roger McGuinn of the Byrds does Dylan’s ‘It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding), guitar and lyric locked and loaded. McGuinn also plays ‘The Ballad of Easy Rider’, acoustic guitar and harmonica and weary vocal.
Watch the film if you get the chance. It’s good.
The Great Loo Roll Crisis of 2020 cont.
More vinyl distraction, while you’re waiting…
Mercury Rev, ‘Deserter's Songs’, 1998. The Rev were on the verge of splitting up before recording this album. They retreated to The Catskills Mountains, to get it together in the country, man. They decided to do whatever they wanted, expecting nothing. The album became a big indie hit in the UK and Europe. Who knew? Certainly not the band. In some ways, not least the vocals, it sounds like the Flaming Lips, though not as demented and certainly not as deranged as earlier Rev albums.
‘Holes’ kicks it off, with big drums, strings, horn, melancholy tune. ‘Tonite It Shows’ is gentle pluck and Mellotron and castanets and prettiness. ‘Endlessly’, voices and high pitch saw(?), acoustic guitar, clarinet and just lovely. ’I Collect Coins’ slow, piano, echo, ghosts. ‘Opus 40’ almost like a raggedy ‘Our House’ with Levon ‘The Band’ Helm on drums. Gorgeous. ‘Hudson Line’ brushed drums and saxophone from Garth ‘The Band’ Hudson. ‘The Happy End (The Drunk Room)’ Kurt Weill feel and spacey eeriness. ‘Goddess On A Highway’, the single, with singalong melody and big guitar bursts. Nice. ‘The Funny Bird’ big and bold, with effected vocals and shades of Neil Young. ‘Pick Up If You’re There’ sounds like something off Side 2 of Bowie’s ‘Low’. ‘Delta Sun Bottleneck Stomp’ sees us off into the sunset with a happy stomping drum and melody.
Accessible but still wildly off kilter. Great live band too.
Beach Boys, ‘20/20’, 1969. Having a late heatwave at the time of writing so let’s have some California sunshine. This is an odds-and-sods collection bringing together some singles and outtakes and tunes that were going to be used on ‘Smile’. ‘Smile’ was to be the follow up to ‘Pet Sounds’ but that was before Brian Wilson and the world heard ‘Sgt Pepper’, which shot Brian’s confidence and the album was shelved for 40 years.
It’s a righteous set of tunes and miles away from ‘Surfin’ USA’. ‘Do It Again’ kicks it off, the last truly great Beach Boys’ single. ‘I Can Hear Music’ channels Phil Spector (not least coz he co-wrote it) with trademark harmonies and happy strum. ‘Bluebirds Over the Mountain’ all funky guitar and percussion and harmonies, obvs. ‘Be With Me’ written and sung by drummer Dennis, lush with horns and melancholy. ‘All I Want To Do’ a boogie shuffle with rockin’ guitar and drums and Stax horns. ‘The Nearest Faraway Place’ piano led instrumental with strings veering into MOR territory but manages to keep its cool. ‘Cotton Fields’ is an old Leadbelly tune with a singalong ‘Barbara Ann’ feel. ‘I Went to Sleep’ is dreamy and woozy with harmonies again. ‘Time To Get Alone’ waltz rhythm and harmonies. ‘Never Learn Not to Love’ starts off creepy and feels off-kilter all the way through, which is fitting as it’s based on ‘Cease to Exist’ written by Charles Manson who’d been a friend of Dennis for a short while (before the Tate killings, obvs). Shiver. ‘Our Prayer’ is short but beautiful, just voices. Jawdropping. ‘Cabin Essence’ is the whole ‘Smile’ album in miniature. Eerie, old world, harmonies, layered, melancholy, obtuse lyrics, weird instrumentation, a banjo even. It’s weird but beautiful.
Endless summer…
Miles Davis, ‘Bitches Brew’, 1970. Jazz. Nice. Except it’s not. It’s jazz, Jim, but not as we know it. This is the jazz equivalent of Lou Reed’s ‘Metal Machine Music’ or Captain Beefheart’s ‘Trout Mask Replica’. Miles Davis was the giant of the Jazz world but by the late Sixties everything went Rock. Davis started appearing with bands like the Grateful Dead, playing to a young white audience, seeing the possibilities of electricity and free form jamming. Thus, he went in the studio and, in three 3-hour sessions of live takes with no overdubs, laid down the tracks on this monster double.
It’s free jazz, jazz rock, improvisation, extended riffing, rock blast, atonality, noodling, aggressive, using modern sounds of electric guitars and piano along with his fierce trumpet. He told the band to play what they felt and not some ‘prearranged shit’, though in some quieter passages you can hear Miles giving instructions to the band. It’s out there and in your face. Musos love it for the ensemble playing. I’m not a musician but you don’t have to be one to appreciate what they’re doing, even if it’s not exactly easy listening, ahem. Carve out some time and listen to the whole thing, like a classical music concert. A different world. The Santana-esque cover adds to magic. Nice…
Django Reinhardt & Stephane Grappelly, ’With The Quintet Of The Hot Club Of France’. An Ace of Clubs compilation from 1964. Reinhardt and Grappelly, guitar and violin respectively, formed the Hot Club Quintet in 1934, playing Paris jazz clubs. Their USP was having all stringed instruments in a jazz band ‘orchestra’. And, in Django, they had a certified genius player. A Romani gypsy, Django almost burnt to death in a caravan, survived with burns all over his body and two fingers effectively lost on his left hand. A gifted guitarist before the accident, he reinvented the rule book to play post-accident with the two fingers left. Incroyable! His adapted chord shapes and picking style along with his speed and precision, with a rhythm hand that was fast and tight or slow and loose, whether straight strum or lovely little arpeggios, made him a major influence on every guitarist ever since. The Original Guitar Hero. Grappelly on violin was no shirker either.
World War 2 ended the band, but Django played in Paris all through the war. Being a Gypsy and a jazz musician were two good reasons to send him to the camps, with about a million other gipsies, but such was his popularity across the board that he survived. Most of these recordings are just before war broke out.
They play a sweet, happy, swinging, jazzy confection with Gypsy blood at its heart. Cole Porter’s ‘Night & Day’ has fast guitar runs and precision sharp picking on the melody from Django, smooth flow from Stephane on violin. ‘Liza’ happy swing and fluid rhythmic bounce from Django. ‘HCQ Strut’ jaunty melody and bended notes. ‘Nuages’ was the signature theme with easy shuffle, graceful violin, and delicately picked guitar and little runs up and down the neck.
It’s all good. Your new favourite Sunday morning music…
Dead Kennedys, ‘Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables’, 1980. I was watching a video by Bob Vylan today (check him out) and the lyric “lynch the landlord” popped out. Ah. The DKs. San Francisco’s finest led by Jello Biafra. They were the main band in the West Coast punk scene, indeed, the whole US for a while. Everything about this band is a huge, angry, hilarious attack, directed mainly at Republicans, big business, the Christian Right, Reagan, jocks, cops and The Man in general. What sets them apart is Jello’s sharp, funny lyrics and the tunes. The band could actually play and were more than two-chord thrash.
‘Kill The Poor’ kicks it off, summing up Republican attitude to, well, the poor. ‘Forward to Death’ a comment on the ugliness of life. ‘When Ya Get Drafted’ anti-military, obvs. “Let’s Lynch the Landlord’ viciously funny with great bouncy Surf tune. ‘Drug Me’ stupidly fast and satirical. ‘California Uber Alles’ attacking liberal politician Jerry Brown and muesli Nazis. ‘Holiday in Cambodia’ skewering white liberal guilt. ‘Viva Las Vegas’ a comically black cover of the Elvis tune. Other tunes rampage and stomp by. Sadly, ‘Police Truck’ isn’t on the album. Search it out.
Jello is a righteous libertarian. He stood as mayor of San Francisco once and polled thousands of votes. The album cover image is from a riot after the ‘Twinkie Defence’ got Harvey Milk’s killer freed. The band were sued for corrupting morals by giving away a HR Giger image with the album ‘Frankenchrist’ (they were acquitted). ‘Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death’, another album title, is the funniest indictment of US consumerism ever. He used the money the DKs made to run the record label Alternative Tentacles helping support and nurture numerous bands. The band, skint for years, eventually sued him when he refused to let Levi Jeans to use “Holiday in Cambodia’ in an advert. I met him at a Jerry Lee Lewis gig once and he was the sharpest, funniest bloke I met in a whole year of living in California.
So, it’s punk but cleverer and funnier and more tuneful than a 100 Anti Nowhere Leagues…
Vashti Bunyan, ‘Just Another Diamond Day’, 1970. If you ever needed an ethereal, English Rose sounding type folk singer, draped in diaphanous whimsy and faerie wings, straight out of Central Casting, then Vashti’s your woman. I saw her sing at a Syd Barrett tribute once and, even in her sixties, she was beautiful. If you have this on original vinyl, then you’ve got a £1000+ album. Reissues are getting rarer too.
Her voice is a fragile whisper of a thing, accompanied by gentle guitar, occasional flute, fiddle, strings, a banjo even. It’s folkie but also Sixties tinged in a ‘Belle & Sebastian’/’White Horses’ kids TV, psychedelic-lite sort of a way. Pretty, pastoral tunes just the right side of fey. Vashti proper dropped out, getting it together in the country, living in a horse-drawn gipsy caravan. The title track alone tells you everything you need to know. Skip through a sunny meadow eating buttercup sandwiches…
Grateful Dead, ‘American Beauty’, 1970. Good old Grateful Dead. I love the Sixties and, as a student abroad in the US, was lucky to see this Beast live. People know the name in the UK but that’s about it. This was their back-to-roots album after all the sike-ay-delick madness of the Sixties. People needed to regroup, recharge, take stock, play with the kids at home. If you like country inflected rock and folk (say, Gram Parsons), then you’re in for a treat. You could play this album at your Granny with no adverse effects.
‘Box Of Rain’ starts the set, a song by bassist Phil Lesh for his dead father. Pretty tune. ‘Friend of The Devil’ is easy swing with mandolin and acoustic guitars. Main axeman Jerry Garcia was a fierce Bluegrass picker, despite the manic rock jam reputation of the band. ‘Sugar Magnolia’ a swoon of a riff with warm bass and tight drumming. ‘Operator’ countrified fun. ‘Candyman’ slow and melancholy. ‘Ripple’ made for sunshine, with a mandolin line that spreads joy. ‘Brokedown Palace’ slow lament with a rare example of Dead harmonising (singing not their strong point generally, ahem). ‘Till the Morning Comes’ happy strummin’. ‘Attics of My Life’ reflective and gorgeous. ‘Truckin’’ is their anthem, an easy boogie shuffle with the band cruising. Choon! Perfect sunny afternoon platter.
Frank Zappa, ‘Joe’s Garage Act 1’, 1979. Decades ago, I lived with a Zappa freak. He had all the albums and taped them to listen in his car. He’s a sound engineer by trade and reads music. He ‘got’ Zappa and was my first proper exposure to Frank. This album is good entry level Zappa. It has tunes alongside the musicianship, which can get quite noodly and muso.
Frank was a libertarian and the concept, man, behind this set of songs (which was followed up by a double album ‘Acts 2 & 3’) was a future where music has been outlawed. This was before Tipper Gore and Warning stickers on albums. Frank could see which way the wind was blowing with Reagan waiting in the wings.
Frank plays the reoccurring narrator, The Central Scrutinizer, and… it doesn’t matter really. The band are super tight, the tunes range from goofy to funky, jazzy or just balls out rockin’. Most of Frank’s guitar solos were isolated from live recordings and blended into later studio recordings, a process called xenochrony. Frank loved working in the studio.
The title song is autobiography, capturing the joy of early rockers learning their craft. ‘Catholic Girls’ takes a pop at religion with tongue in cheek. Frank rubbed Conservatives and Liberals up the wrong way with his seemingly crude, puerile, seemingly sexist lyrics. He was taking the piss. He’s smarter than that. ‘Crew Slut’, ‘Why Does it Hurt When I Pee?’ and ‘Fembot in a Wet T-Shirt’ are other good examples of such profanity. Funny, satirical, sleazy, but with great tunes and musicianship. ‘On The Bus’ has some great lead axe shredding from our Frank. ‘Lucille Has Messed My Mind Up’ is smooth jazziness with reggae chords.
‘Acts 2 &3’ follows the same path so explore that if you like Act 1. ‘Watermelon in Easter Hay’ from that set has a gorgeous instrumental with some beautiful guitar from Frank. Zappa isn’t instantly catchy, but once you ‘get’ it there’s hours and hours of archive to dive into. He really was one of the greats.
John Lennon, ‘Imagine’, 1971. Lennon would’ve been 80 today. He was in The Beatles you know. Born 1940, same year as my Mum. When I was at college the only time my Mum brought me a cup of tea in bed was the day he was shot. She was visibly shocked, and I got a sense of how big the Beatles had been – even my mum was upset!
His solo stuff is hit and miss but this album has some corkers on it. The title song is the one he was most proud of: a rival to Macca’s ‘Yesterday’. ‘Gimme Some Truth’ righteous ire and even more pertinent today than it was then. ‘It’s So Hard’ dirty blues. ‘Oh My Love’ a gorgeous melody. ‘How Do You Sleep?’ slinky groove. ‘Crippled Inside’ honky-tonking. ‘How?’ a companion piece to ‘Imagine’. ‘I Don’t Wanna Be A Soldier Mama I Don’t Wanna Die’ funky groove and paranoia with Vietnam still raging. ‘Oh Yoko!’ singalong strumming. Gear. Fab. Etc.
Happy Birthday John.
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, ‘Déjà Vu’, 1970. Hard to imagine now but Cocaine, Pills, Hash & Old were once Gods of the Counter Culture. Their Wembley Stadium show in 1974 was a badge moment for thousands. The original super group. A member of the Byrds, two from Buffalo Springfield, and a Hollie, made for a heady mix. Laurel Canyon was the centre of the Rock Universe in 1970 and these boys were the Kings. What makes it all worthwhile is the harmonies. Beyond everything else, these voices will live forever.
‘Carry On’ kicks it off, big acoustic strum before the voices swoop in with bass, percussion swings in and Stills’ licks float through. Those voices though! ‘Teach Your Children’ is by Nash, the Hollie who knew how to write a pop song and pretty melody. Jerry Garcia plays the pedal steel guitar. It sounds simple but the lyric is deadly serious. Remember Vietnam was still ripping the US apart. Kent State happened just after the album’s release. ‘Almost Cut My Hair’ is Crosby, all piss and vinegar. Once upon a time, wearing your hair long nailed your colours to the mast. An alternative national anthem for millions of freaks, with dirty guitar from Stills and Young. ‘Helpless’ is Neil Young at his best - lost, weary, melancholy, beautiful. I love Neil Young. ‘Woodstock’ another alternative national anthem. CSNY actually played at Woodstock, their second ever gig.
Side 2 opens with ‘Déjà Vu’, out Beach Boying the Beach Boys in a big swirling ocean of sound. ‘Our House’ is Nash again, bringing an English sensibility and mood in another simple song that packs a punch. ‘4+20’ is just Stills with soft vocal and gentle acoustic picking. ‘Country Girl’ is Neil again with more harmonies from heaven. ‘Everybody I Love You’ is straight out of Buffalo Springfield, the rocker in the set to send you home happy.
So, yeah, they’re a bunch of hippies but this is a classic. The cover says it all though: olde worlde America. We need to get back to The Garden…
Let’s go Pop! Blondie, ‘Parallel Lines’, 1978. Their difficult third album. Blondie were from the CBGB school of Punk/New wave. They hadn’t hit ‘big’ Big beyond the Indie ghetto. What did they do? They got Mike Chapman of Chinn-Chapman, the men behind The Sweet, Suzi Quatro and other Glam Rockers. Of course! Mike knew Pop and how to get a good sound. On this album he created a Classic. 20 million copies sold.
For younger readers, here’s a question; “Is Blondie a Feminist?” Debbie Harry was assumed to be the Blondie in the band name, much to the chagrin of the rest of the band, but, hey, 20 million copies sold worldwide, whaddya gonna do? The band even wore T-shirts that said ‘Blondie is a band’. Back in the day Debbie/Blondie was seen as either Exploited Eye Candy Propping up the Capitalist Machine, or Gender Traitor, or Empowered Female Warrior in charge of her sexuality and using the System. Phew. And you thought Woke was a new thing?
Debbie probably didn’t care either way. She’s from Noo Yoik, geddouttahere! With 20 million copies sold I’m not going to go through the songs as you’ll know most of them. Four of them were released as singles, cracking the Top 10 and making the band regulars on Top of The Pops. They were probably the biggest band in the UK for about a year. In relation to the Feminist debate, check out ‘Picture This’, wherein Debbie speaks of watching her lover naked in the shower. He’s naked in the shower, not her. A twist on the norm. It’s adult-sexy smuggled into a pop song. John Peel once said that his Sex Education chat with his dad consisted of; ‘girls like it too’. Who knew? Debbie proved it.
A great pop album with hooks, riffs, solid drumming, garage band keyboards, hand claps, Punk sass and Debbie’s great pop voice with an almost-sneer. Total package.
Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated, ‘R&B from the Marquee’, 1962. Reckoned to be the first UK rock album. Alexis and Cyril Davies had been playing blues since the 1950s, setting up the Ealing Blues Club where nippers like Mick n Keef learned their craft. Alexis had a revolving-door policy, the music more important than a ‘career’ and making it, maaan. Thus, in its time, the band had Charlie Watts, Graham Bond, Ginger Baker, Jack Bruce, Art Wood (brother of Ronnie), Dick Heckstall-Smith, Long John Baldry (who gave Elton John his first break) and a host of others pass through before going off and creating the Sixties rock scene.
The band had a regular residency at the Marquee club, influencing and entertaining hundreds of kids who ran with the exciting ‘new’ sound of black American R&B. This LP was actually recorded at Decca studios and consisted of their stage set. It’s a swinging, tight collection, even if it sometimes lacks the bite vocally of the originals they covered, such as Muddy Waters’ ‘I Wanna Put a Tiger in Your Tank’. Musically, it’s on the money: the band could all play. Pianos pound, drums shuffle and rimshot, bass walks nimbly, harp wails, guitar breaks sting and ripple. It sounds authentic. When you hear, say, Pat Boone’s cover of ‘Tutti Frutti’, you hear how badly songs can be killed by skinny white guys. Blues Incorporated venerated and respected the music they played.
The Butterfly Effect. Without Korner and Davies playing for the love of the music then the word might not have spread, guitars would have lain untouched, and the likes of Freddie & the Dreamers would be the only Sound of the Sixties, not the Rolling Stones et al.
The Mekons, ‘Fear and Whiskey’, 1985. We are The Mekons, we are from Leeds and this is our Cult Classic. You’d be surprised how popular the Mekons are, especially in America. This is the real soundtrack to the UK in the 80s, not Dire Straits or Phil Collins or Stock Aitken Waterman. Lo-fi, raggedy, scraped fiddles, country and folk and punk guitars with shouty Northern voices. By 1985 we’d had the Falklands, bad. Miners’ Strike, bad. Greenham Common, bad. Inner-city riots, bad. IRA Hunger Strike, bad. 3 million unemployed, bad. A lot of angry people. The Mekons tap into a sense of dread in post-Industrial Britain with lyrics about black crows against pink sky, trouble down South, darkness and doubt, being hard to be human, last dances, Sheffield, no country left, and a cover of Hank William’s ‘Lost Highway’. It’s the aural equivalent of a donkey jacket on a picket line. But with gallows humour. Two fingers to Thatcherism even though they know they’ve lost. Not a pretty listen but it’s 4 Real. Authenticity, kids. If you sing it like you mean it then it’ll survive.