Monday, 11 January 2016

goodbye david bowie

This was going to be a post about how brilliant the new David Bowie album is. But currently my brain hurts a lot and I can't think straight. I can't believe he's gone.

I can't write about how influential he was right now. Loads of words will be typed over the next few days and weeks about his work and his life. All I can say right now is that Bowie has been a huge part of my life, for most of my life, and at the moment I'm just stunned. So sad for Iman and their 15 year old daughter Lexi.

 
So this is from an email to friends last Friday -

---------------------------------------------- 
 
As I'd ordered David Bowie's Blackstar from Amazon they very kindly sent me the MP3 files at 1 minute after midnight last night! So I didn't get to bed till one o'clock, as I HAD to listen to it all didn't I?

Basically, it's bloody good. It's only about 40 minutes long, which is good as long albums can get a bit dull. Blackstar is anything but. It's choc full of invention and mystery and surprises and there seems to be loads to discover with every play. Best album since Scary Monsters? Nah. But best album since 1.Outside? Maybe...

The title track and "Lazarus" I already knew from the singles. "Blackstar" is majestic and epic in every way, mysterious, scary, beautiful, and stunning - the video is amazing too. Strangely though I don't know if it's the best track to open the album. It's perhaps a bit too much right at the start and at 10 minutes long it kind of overbalances the album somehow. Having said that, I can't think where else it might fit in. "Lazarus" also has a superb video which was released yesterday, which is scary and comedic in equal measure. The song is claustrophobic and dark and spooky, the opening part reminds me of Joy Division, the chorus melody stealing a little from Bowie's own "Slip Away" from Heathen, but the whole track is way more than the sum of it's influences and I love the skronking sax on the long outro. At the moment it's my favourite track on the album, though this will, I'm sure, change...

"Sue" and "Tis A Pity She Was A Whore" were released as a single over a year ago, but the album contains brand new recordings of both of these tracks, and both are better, in my opinion, than the originals, with "Sue" being especially intense. The bass on these tracks (on the whole album actually) is awesome, brilliantly recorded and played. Many reviews are banging on about Blackstar being a jazz record, but really this album isn't. It may be a jazz band playing the music, but they are playing full on rock for the most part, with "Sue" verging on drum and bass and coming across like a sort of demented Earthling out-take. Just because a song has a sax solo instead of a guitar solo doesn't automatically make it jazz! The sax on "Tis A Pity" actually reminds me of Andy Mackay's wilder exploits on early Roxy albums, and it's probably the hardest, most powerful song on the album (as well as being perhaps the most playful), although the new "Sue" rocks like a demon too.

Then we get the three brand new songs.

"Girl Loves Me" is a delightfully bonkers piece, with pseudo made up Clockwork Orange type droog speak, and that insanely catchy "where the f... did Monday go?" refrain. It reminds me in places of the ...hours era b-side "No-One Calls" which had a similar melody and a similarly woozy air about it.

"Dollar Days" is the very definition of wistful. Bowie in full on croon mode, going on about how he may never see those English evergreens again. It's almost like something from a musical, with a strangely old-fashioned, and very English, feel about it (despite the title...) It's also somehow a very sad song, though I'm not entirely sure why.

"I Can't Give Everything Away" is beautifully sung, and beautifully played and may well end up being my favourite song on the album. The verses are very short, just a couple of lines each before the soaring choruses keep crashing in. The intro nicks the harmonica tune from "A New Career In A New Town" and the outro contains a proper guitar solo which is very Frippian - lovely nods to the past (in the same way that one of the Next Day songs ended with the "Five Years" drum beat). The melody is again very theatrical, Bowie delivers the goods perfectly. As with "Dollar Days" there's something that feels very personal about this song, and something rather sad too. After The Next Day I felt that Bowie had loads more to give. After this song I wonder if he's hinting that, actually, he doesn't. I really, really hope I'm wrong but if he never records again, this would be the perfect song on which to bow out.
  
 
----------------------------------
 
And how horribly right those words were. He never saw those English evergreens again... At the end of the incredible "Lazarus" video Bowie the rock star climbs back into the wardrobe. Mr Jones has put Bowie back in the box. For the last time.
 
David Robert Jones, devoted husband and father, died today.
 
But David Bowie, incredible rock legend, creator of some of the most fantastic music in the world, will live forever!
 
R x

Thursday, 26 November 2015

thursday shuffling songs

A random collection of tunes for a Thursday:
 
"Temple Of Love" - the original 1983 12" from the Sisters Of Mercy. Entirely bonkers, but also entirely brilliant. Doktor Avalanche the drum machine is working overtime on this one. 
 
"Fur Immer" from the second NEU! album. Solid motorik drumming (not a million miles from the Sisters were doing with the good Doktor 10 years later) and lotsa wibbly guitar stuff. Perfect for driving to. 
 
"Way Out Of Here" from Porcupine Tree's Fear Of A Blank Planet. One of my absolute favourite PT songs. I love the way that Wilson sketches out the desire of the teen to disappear completely (something of a preoccupation in his lyrics I feel). If you get a chance to see it, the video is rather good too. Some stunning soundscapes from That Awful Man Fripp over the lengthy fade out. 
 
"Helen Of Troy" - a not very good live recording of Cale teetering on the edge of sanity in 1984. He sounds dangerous and scary to be quite honest, like someone you'd really want to avoid. The rough garage band approach of his musicians doesn't really suit this song either. 
 
"The Man In The Moon" - Adrian Belew's rather touching song about how he wants to be reunited on the moon with his recently departed father. 
 
"In Power We Entrust The Love Advocated" - surely one of the best tracks Dead Can Dance ever recorded, certainly one of Brendan Perry's career highlights. Just brilliant. 
 
"Utopia" - speaking of whom - this was a live recording of Brendan Perry in 2011 with this cracker from his Ark album. Great recording, off the soundboard, and a stunning performance too. As a young man, earnest, bearded, floppy hair, BP's rich baritone didin't really seem to suit how he looked. Now, stockier, bald, with greying goatee and stern expression, his voice seems to suit him rather better. 

"Slave To Love" - Bryan Ferry live in 2014. It sounds a little rushed, but then Ferry often seems to speed up songs in concert, as if he's in hurry to get home to watch Newsnight. This is always a popular live track, and Ferry and his band(s) always do it justice.

"Nowhere Man" from a bunch of unknown scousers who never amounted to much. What a very pretty, and sad, melody this song has.

 
"1917" - a 1999 b-side from Mr Bowie. An odd, synthy instrumental from the …hours sessions which kind of nicks the riff from Led Zep's "Kashmir". It's very inconsequential but very likeable. 
 
"I Don't Want To Go To Chelsea" - I only have a handful of Elvis Costello songs on the iPod, and this is one of the best. It sounds very dated, very much a late 1970s new wave sound, but Elvis' sneer is at it's peak here, which is always good. 
 
"How Does It Feel?" - yup, Slade. Noddy and the boys going all ballad-y for a change. Reminds me of my childhood - I really loved Slade when I was 6 and 7. 
 
"A Fire In The Forest" - Sylvian live in 2004 in Tokyo. This is a soundboard recording, and is better than the Blemish studio version I reckon. Great vocal from DS, deeply emotional.

"In Vogue" - another of those weird coincidences - there's no way the iPod could know that there's a link between Japan and Sylvian (just as it couldn't possibly guess the link between Brendan Perry and DCD) but here we go. This is Japan live in Tokyo in 1980. Another soundboard recording too, but one that has suffered a little over the years. It's pretty good, but a little wobbly in places and with a bit of hiss. But what a cracking version of "In Vogue".
 
"God Only Knows" - Bowie's slow and string laden version of the Beach Boys' song from the Tonight album in 1984. Most critics really really hate this, and offer it as proof that Bowie had really lost his way in the 1980s, but I have something of a soft spot for this version. And, it can't be denied, Bowie really sings his socks off on this one.
 
Speaking of Brian Wilson, I read this fascinating story about him the other day. It's from an interview with Alice Cooper and relates to a situation at the 1974 Grammy's, a period when Wilson was probably at his most, er, lost.
 
“I was sitting backstage after the 1974 Grammys with Bernie Taupin and John Lennon.
Brian Wilson came up to the table, bent down and whispered in my ear ‘Hey Alice, introduce me to John Lennon.’
I couldn’t BELIEVE that these two men had never met! They were virtually neck and neck in the 60’s as the greatest bands on the planet, and I’m SURE they must have crossed paths at some point. But then I thought to myself, ‘Wow, if they REALLY have never met, I’m going to be the one to introduce them and become a part of rock history!’ So I merely said, ‘Brian Wilson, this is John Lennon. John Lennon, this is Brian Wilson.’
Lennon was very cordial and polite, saying things like ‘Hello Brian, I’ve always wanted to meet you. I’ve always admired your work, and Paul and I considered Pet Sounds one of the best albums ever made.’ Brian thanked him and walked away, at which point Lennon went right back to his conversation like nothing had happened.
About ten minutes later, Brian came by our table again, leaned down and whispered something to Bernie, and all of a sudden, Bernie was saying ‘Brian Wilson, this is John Lennon. John Lennon, Brian Wilson.’ Lennon was just as cordial and polite as the first time, saying essentially the same thing about always wanting to meet him.
As soon as Brian walked away, John looked at both of us and casually said in his typical Liverpudlian accent, ‘I’ve actually met him hundreds of times. He’s not well, you know."
 
And here's another story about Wilson that dates from around the same sort of time, but isn't quite as sad as the above... 
Somehow Iggy Pop and Alice Cooper got invited to Brian Wilson's place for a party. How on earth did THAT happen? But Wilson's idea of a party was a good ol' sing-song around the piano. He allocated parts to everyone and got Alice and Iggy singing specific parts of the folksong 'Shortnin' Bread'. After about an hour of singing the same song, over and over and over and over, Iggy and Alice realised that this wasn't quite what they'd had in mind and made their excuses and left - Iggy later said that he'd been to some weird parties, but this was simply the weirdest night he'd ever had! 
 
 

Friday, 20 November 2015

★ david bowie's new single, 'blackstar'

Well, after quite a few listens last night and this morning I can honestly say that I love this new song, .

Vocally, Bowie is on fine form, eerie, haunted vocals giving way to the stunning middle section. This part seems like it's harking back to the soulful Bowie of Young Americans with some lovely, clear and beautifully pitched vocals, but there's still the unsettling electronic backing voices too. The long chanting aaaahhhhs have been described as vaguely Gregorian chant, but there's also a link back to the similar aaaahhhhs in 1970's "The Supermen". It's odd that the song seems disjointed at first but gradually the structure of the three parts melds together and now it obviously fits together, and couldn't be any other way.

The lyrics are a series of seemingly disconnected images that add up to an overriding feeling of dread and foreboding. In this there are echoes of Scott Walker, as he makes his words work in a similar way. Much has been made of the musical similarity between "Blackstar" and recent Scott Walker music, but I can't really hear it - yes both are resolutely ploughing their own furrows, making the sort of music that they want, unencumbered by commercial requirements, but Bowie's music is certainly lighter and more playful. The skittering percussion is superb, as are the little squelchy stabs of synth.

The video is something else - the shaking dancing was apparently inspired by old cartoons (where background figures would always keep moving in a shuddering three second loop, because static figures would catch your eye too much), the skull stuff lifts from myths about the Templars (something Bowie has touched on before) but makes it all much more sci-fi (and there's even a couple of steals from the film Moon (directed by Bowie's son Duncan Jones). And by sticking the skeleton in a space suit there's inevitably going to be links to Major Tom, last heard of strung out in heaven's high, hitting an all time low...

Bowie himself is on terrific form, lots of freaky dancing, and the character with the bandages across his face and the buttons for eyes is rather disturbing. Yes it's all terribly pretentious and bordering on silly - but then so was the video to "Ashes To Ashes", or "Loving The Alien" or "Little Wonder" or frankly 90% of all the videos he's ever made, and to be honest, I'd be extremely disappointed if a Bowie video wasn't pretentious and faintly silly.

Above all though, David Bowie looks and sounds very fit and healthy, dispelling all the stories of poor health. Yes he had heart problems ten years ago, but various unpleasant rumours of debilitating strokes and limited movement seem to have been utterly unfounded. Thank goodness.

So, a big thumbs up from me. Really looking forward to the album now! 
 

Friday, 25 September 2015

autumnal shuffling


Whilst sometimes the shuffle feature on the iPod can be a pain – churning out stuff I just don’t want to hear at that particular time, sometimes though it can be brilliant. Like recently.
I would never plan to play some of these songs one after another. But over the past couple of days I’ve heard - 
“Punky’s Whips” from a Frank Zappa concert in 1978, mad, silly and very funny, with a storming solo to boot. It not only rocks hard, but like many Zappa tracks, it's fearsomely complex and tries to wrongfoot the unwary listener at every turn. 
“Pale Blue Eyes” – Patti Smith live in 1976 – she does a fine job on this Lou Reed song, and for even more garage rock cred, she segues it into a laid back “Louie Louie”. Cracking stuff. 
“Birdy’s Flight” from Peter Gabriel’s brilliant Birdy soundtrack – one of my favourite PG albums – all those drums, those seesawing guitars. It's basically a rework of "Not One Of Us" but it's given an intense urgency here that is truly thrilling. 
“Stray Sinatra Neuron” from John Foxx, all chilly synths and general marvellousness. 
“Drive My Car” – one of the best Beatles songs ever surely? How can you not sing along? Beep Beep YEAH!! 
“Star Of The Age” – an epic sounding track from Shearwater’s most recent album, the severely under-rated Animal Joy. Terrific band – I recommend their tremendous Rook album from a few years ago. Really good stuff. 
Something fantastic from the soundtrack of Forbidden Planet. Electronic noises and otherworldly swoops created by Louis and Bebe Barron. Because neither composer belonged to the Musician's Union, and because no conventional instruments were used, the soundtrack wasn't allowed to be called music at all - instead the term 'electronic tonalities' was used. Clearly the BBC Radiophonic Workshop was listening and a great many William Hartnell Doctor Whos had very similar electronic tonalities and moods. Really marvellous stuff – it still sounds totally futuristic now. 
“So Alone” – Lou Reed at his funniest, with this sarcastic and very self-referential little track from Growing Up In Public. 
“I Wanna Be Your Dog” – the Stooges live in Tokyo 2004 – arguably the best version I’ve ever heard of this one. Iggy shouts “Go CRAZY!!!” as the song starts but the audience needs no encouragement. Judging from the cheers Iggy stage dives as Ron takes a savage solo – this really is a fantastic recording. 
“Island” – The Edge and Michael Brook doing beautiful stuff with infinite guitars for the film soundtrack Captive. Never seen the film, but the soundtrack is fab. 
“Reactor” – from the early version of Eno's Music For Films. This is a nicely discordant and very short little vignette. I like those discarded MFF tracks, some weird and very experimental stuff there. 
“Dance Floor” – a wonderfully tinny synth leads this track from Our Daughter’s Wedding. Not as good as their classic “Lawn Chairs” (but then not much is…), but a neat little curio of early synth pop, with a very New York / New Wave vocal. 
“Big Wheels In Shanty Town” – this is the excellent Rain Tree Crow track, but played by Jansen Barbieri and Karn on their 2001 JBK tour. This tour also featured Steven Wilson on guitar (as if the man wasn’t busy enough!) and the resulting live album Playing In A Room With People is pretty good. It’s still weird how Mick Karn could play rubbery bass and saxophone at the same time, (although I suspect he cheated with tapes…) but this is a solid, if unspectacular album. 
“Fljotavik” from Sigur Ros, a nicely low key, piano-led ballad, with Jonsi holding back to deliver a very pretty vocal, no acrobatics. 
“Drugs” – Talking Heads live in Amsterdam November 1980. This is, quite possibly, even better than the best ever version on TNOTBITH. Adrian Belew adds all sorts of animalistic groans and squeals, the keyboards throb menacingly and Byrne sings his socks off. 
“Seesaw Sway” - a top tune from the Peter Murphy's album Ninth. Catchy as hell, but sadly never a hit. 
Something from Philip Glass’ Satyagraha – completely incomprehensible as it’s in Sanskrit, but absolutely spellbinding all the same. 
This was followed by “Opening” from Glassworks, which is just gorgeous, one of the prettiest, most delicate, melodies Glass has ever written. 
“Hot Pants Explosion” – I laughed along with the B52s. Huge fun, masses of energy and enthusiasm, and Fred at his campest (and that’s saying something…). The ending is truly absurd - as the song bounces to a halt Fred says ‘these pants are sooooo hot, I might just have to take ‘em offff…’ Well it’s funny when he says it!
Something from United States – Laurie Anderson burbling on about how TV signals have been beaming across space all these years – so she suggest that basically the first space travellers are cowboys and game show contestants…

“4th Of July” – U2’s attempt at a Music For Films type track. It’s lovely, and a brave thing for them to have put onto The Unforgettable Fire

“The Man With The Golden Gun” – OK so the lyrics are somewhat silly with some rather schoolboyish sniggery double entendres, but Lulu really belts it out and John Barry’s music is, as always, top notch. 
“Berlin” – the original, and rather more jaunty, version from Lou Reed’s 1971 solo album. Whilst I like the extra verses I would have preferred the more downbeat approach used on the Berlin album. It’s not so bad really until the very last bit where the band vamps it up and utterly ruins the mood. I would ask ‘what was Lou thinking?’ but I suspect that during the making of this album Lou wasn’t entirely on planet earth, so I doubt he even noticed…
“White Man’s Hut” – an early It’s Immaterial single. Strange but strangely appealing. Vaguely Talking Heads-ish, but with cheery woodblock percussion and kids helping out on the chorus. It all sounds rather more accomplished that you’d imagine from a bunch of musicians who apparently had little idea what they were doing. It’s a far cry from their later masterpiece album Song, which was far more Blue Nile in sound. 
“Delia’s Gone” – One of Johnny Cash’s superb American Recordings. “I’d’ve had her for my wife if I hadn’t’ve shot her down…“ - way to cheer us all up Johnny! 
“It’s Better This Way” – This is bonkers, as are most Associates songs, but it hangs together remarkably well. Frantic doesn't even begin to describe the drumming. 
“Burning Sky” – early Porcupine Tree, basically a cool groove and an excuse for a spiralling psychedelic guitar freak out. Nowt wrong with that! The audience in the Hague like it too, although it sounds like there’s only a handful of people there. 
“Seven Years In Tibet” – Bowie live in Budapest 1997 with the Earthling band, so lots of mad guitars, spooky organ work and weird distortion on some of the vocals. DB sings like a demon on the pounding choruses. One of Bowie’s oddest songs of this period, and also one of my favourites. I assume the two things are linked...

Thursday, 17 September 2015

bryan ferry - these foolish things


After two albums with Roxy Music Bryan Ferry decided to cut a solo record, an album where he could indulge himself, not worry about songwriting, an album of covers of some of his favourite songs. These Foolish Things was recorded in a matter of weeks in the spring of 1973 and shows the lighter side of Bryan Ferry. Many of the songs are delivered with a mischievous sense of fun that didn't often manifest itself in Roxy. Ferry rarely sounds like he's having fun - making music often seems to become something of a chore for him - but what immediately strikes the listener is the sheer amount of fun Ferry is having with these songs.
 
Bob Dylan purists hated Bryan's take on "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" but I love it. Thumping drums from the Great Paul Thompson, cheeky backing vocals and Ferry getting his tonsils around every syllable. This was the first track recorded for this project apparently, in Spring 1973, and marks the first time that one Edwin Jobson first worked with Ferry. The whizzy violins on this track are all Jobson and Ferry soon realised that Eddie was a genius on the synth too. Eno's days in Roxy were numbered, and here was a natural replacement, and at only 18, wasn't likely to argue with Ferry the way that Eno did! 
 
The rest of side one is fascinating - mixing well known songs like "Piece Of My Heart" with more obscure tracks like "Please Don't Ever Change" (a Buddy Holly-less Crickets b-side if I remember rightly). What's so good is that Ferry also mixes total sincerity (like his brilliant and moving version of the Beach Boys' "Don't Worry Baby") with camp pastiche - such as the frantic and comic "It's My Party" where Ferry doesn't even switch the genders round, so he's still the one who's jealous of the fact that Judy has stolen Johnny away from him… It somehow actually works, despite Ferry's well known reputation as a ladies man by this time.
 
We also get a lovely Elvis impersonation on "Baby I Don't Care" which has every bit of reverb turned up to the max, and some cracking drumming from TGPT. Oddly, listening to it today, I realised that Ferry wasn't alone in this sort of rock'n'roll revivalism - the sound on this track, and elsewhere on TFT, isn't actually a million miles from the sound of contemporary bands like Showaddywaddy or Mud. But Ferry delivers these songs with such verve and a knowingly ironic archness, which sets Ferry's work well apart from the chart fodder of some of these bands. The album cover also shows Ferry as something of rock'n'roll throwback - with a simple black teeshirt and his hair in quiff he looks more like the Fonz than anything else. And a million miles from the bow-tie / tux image that appeared on his next album cover, which he's been saddled with ever since.
 
Side two begins magnificently. Trying to cover the Rolling Stones is never an easy option, and trying to cover "Sympathy For The Devil" is almost impossible (Guns 'n' Roses did an appallingly lumpy cover in 1990ish, around the same time as their similarly dreadful "Live And Let Die"). But Ferry ditches quite a bit of the Stones original and wisely turns the song into a swampy, swirling mass of horns, spooky backing singers, and a snarling, cackling vocal quite unlike anything else he's ever done. It's quite breathtakingly brilliant. The whole song is basically one long climax, gradually building in tropical, steamy intensity, the stabs from the horn section getting ever more pronounced and urgent, the wurlitzer style organ becoming more and more unhinged, the backing vocals gradually more prominent and more insistent. It's wonderful and I’d forgotten quite how much I love this song. Sacrilege maybe, but I actually prefer it to the Stones version. Really.  
 
Tracks Of My Tears" is a real anticlimax after "Sympathy" - it's as if Ferry knew that nothing could follow it, so he chose to sacrifice the weakest song on the album. It's not actually that bad, but Ferry simply doesn't have the right voice to tackle real soul songs, and certainly at this point in his career his vocals are so mannered that they rarely sound truly sincere - and sincerity is what this song needs. This is not really a criticism of Ferry as his voice is wonderful for so many songs - but it just doesn't suit truly soulful tunes. Look how weedy he sounds on later covers like "Take Me To The River" or "That's How Strong My Love Is" - it's just not the right sort of voice for those songs. And by having the band play "Tracks Of My Tears" so straight it can only be compared with Smoky Robinson's original and can therefore only come off worst from such a comparison. Same thing applies to side one's "Piece Of My Heart" - only a few years after Janis Joplin ripped your heart out with her showstopping version, Ferry plays it safe and polite and it just doesn't really work. 
 
But things pick up with the Beatles' "You Won't See Me" - love the chirpy piano on this and it's clear that Ferry is once again having fun with the song. A nicely jaunty guitar solo from Phil Manzanera too. Ferry was a huge Beatles fan and would go on to cover a number of other Fab songs over his career - my favourite being a lovely version of "She's Leaving Home" in 1976.
 
Then another jaunty track - "I Love How You Me" begins with a harpsichord - or rather Jobson on synth impersonating a harpsichord - and features some sterling saxophone work too. Nice doo-wop backings.
 
"Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever" is terrific, again the horns are really on form and TGPT is superb. Beyond Andy Mackay's sax and oboe Roxy Music never really used horns, and never in this sort of big band way, but Ferry's solo albums are often full of meaty horn arrangements. I really like the throwaway backing vocals on the verses. The girls echo most of Ferry lines but in a very offhand, casual kind of way which is very endearing. They are full on during the choruses, but extremely laid back in the verses, it's rather amusing. 
 
And then we end with the title track. A real smoky nightclub situation… A tinkling piano, the barman clearing away the glasses, Ferry all alone with his memories and his regrets. This song was made for him. But I can't help wondering why he decided to beef it up. I still think it would have worked fine just with the piano and lonesome trumpet, but after the first verse the drums kick in with a surprisingly robust beat. But somehow it does still work, in an oddly jaunty yet wistful way, and suits Ferry extremely well. The fade out is excellent, the girls aaaahhhing everywhere, leaving Bryan to fade away into the darkness with a bottle of cognac amid a haze of cigarette smoke… 
 
A really good, solid album. I first heard this aged about 14/15. The album was nearly 10 years old then, now it's 42… It was out of it's time even then, and I knew that these songs were throwbacks to the 60s, 50s and further back, but as with all good albums, it sets up a mood and creates images and ideas and the fact that it was weird mish-mash of musical styles and eras simply doesn't matter. Crucially, the songs are all excellent - unlike Ferry's follow up Another Time Another Place (which was saddled with a few stinkers and only really has half an album's worth of genuinely good tracks). It's probably easier than ever before to get hold of any album in the world, but I really can't imagine any 14 year old buying this record now, and being transported, as I was, even further back into rock history.
 
 

Thursday, 10 September 2015

king crimson - earthbound

In the wake of Tuesday's masterful gig at the Hackney Empire I dug out Earthbound. This was recorded live in early 1972, and was the last tour that Mel Collins had done as a member of King Crimson, before now.
 
First off - what a bloody awful racket. Recorded onto cassettes at the mixing desk, this is rather lo-fi Crimson. Now, poor recording quality doesn't necessarily mean a poor album, if the music's good. 
 
But, mostly, it isn't.
 
The title track of the album kind of sums up what's wrong - all the band, bar Fripp, attempt a bluesy jam. Fripp sits on his stool and attempts to drag them back to gnarly angular rock by playing horrid noises on his guitar. Bassist Boz, saxophonist Mel Collins and drummer Ian Wallace defiantly ignore these attempts until Mr Grumpy just shuts up. The tension in the group is clear for everyone to hear.
 
There are some good points - arguably the heaviest "21st Century Schizoid Man" I’ve ever heard flattens everything in it's path, with Mel providing some genuinely frightening sax playing. The guitar parts are ferocious too, Fripp's anger and unhappiness clearly channeled into the monstrous riffs. 
 
The incomplete version of "The Sailor's Tale" is half impressive - Ian Wallace's drumming is superb - but half disappointing - the savage slashing guitar solo of the original is abandoned in favour of a far less successful approach. And then we have "Groon" - whilst sloshing the VCS3 synth over the drum solo might have seemed avant garde (maybe) back in 1972, now it's wearisome and irritating. Something that might have made for a fun diversion in a concert setting comes across as noisily unmusical and headache inducing on record. The distortion caused by the poor recording quality doesn't help either.
 
As the more recent DGM releases of other concerts by this band have shown, they could, and frequently did, perform some cracking gigs. So quite why Fripp issued Earthbound at all is rather baffling. He clearly didn’t like jazzy, bluesy freeform jams he put within the album's none-more-black sleeve. Perhaps the Unhappy Gigster wanted to somehow document the audible break up of the band. Though why he then had to inflict it on his bespectacled, hirsute and very earnest record buying audience is something of a mystery.
Mel, Ian and Boz remained in the USA at the end of this tour and together they backed bluesman extraordinaire Alexis Korner for some time afterwards. Light years from the complexities of Crimson.
 
Fripp returned to the UK, downheartedly considering his position as a musician. But then he recorded “The Heavenly Music Corporation” with Eno and felt inspired again. Music that only King Crimson could play came flying by his ears so he set about forming the Larks’ Tongues quintet – and that’s another story entirely. 
 
 

rambling thoughts - sweet jane


I had the ipod on shuffle this morning and after a couple of very pretty but very noodly Michael Brook instrumentals I was suddenly blasted with “Sweet Jane” – the original from Loaded.
 
After years of hearing umpteen Lou Reed live versions of varying quality (surely this must be the song that Lou Reed played live more than any other?), it’s wonderful to be reminded of how damn good the original actually is. And this was the ‘proper’ mix that was put out in 1970 - recent issues of Loaded have of course restored the ‘heavenly wine and roses’ section – Lou was allegedly furious when this was edited out without his permission, though I think it was the right decision to lose that bit, as it makes the song so much punchier.

And what a song – Lou actually sings pretty well, that twinkling intro is delightful (although it was apparently nicked from another, unused, song), That Riff is just brilliant, and the whole thing is given a bright commercial shine by the producers that Lou claimed to despise so much. Quite reasonably, the rest of the Velvets were extremely happy with Loaded, with Sterling and Doug both on record as saying that the VU had never sounded better and that it was only Mr Grumpy Reed who had any issue with it. And it does sound good - it's clearly miles away from the seedy grime of the first couple of VU albums, but the brighter, more positive sound of Loaded really works so well. The Velvets still sound like a band from the New York streets, and they have not been turned into, in any sense, a clean cut pop band, but it's genuinely good to hear the Velvets so clearly and so well produced.
 
There's a (surprisingly for the VU) hopeful and upbeat sound to the whole song. The lyrics are terrific too - one of the best of Lou's vignettes, the characters of Jack and Jane are finely and swiftly sketched - one's in a corset, the other in a vest, you figure out which is which... they are saving their money, sittin' there by the fire, the radio playing, and you can hear Jack say...
 
"Sweet Jane... oh.... whoaaa" 
 
It's such a perfect chorus. Positively joyful, a shout out of hope and love. For all his contrary ways, and his professed love of the avant garde, Lou Reed was rarely better than when he wrote straightforward, simple, catchy rock and roll songs. And "Sweet Jane" is one of the best there is, from anyone.