A couple of days ago, I stumbled upon a record by the Tages, a Swedish band from the mid 60's. I had heard the record briefly mentioned by a few sources - it was favorably compared to Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - and decided to track it down for myself. I've got to say, I'm shocked and appalled. How could I possibly go this long without any knowledge of Studio (1967 or 1968, depending on the source), a gem in an era of gems?
Studio is mid-60's album of very high quality. It is laden with short (and exceptionally well-written) pop songs that couple competent rock arrangements with moments of ornate orchestration. While by no means a mirror of its influences, the album is reminiscent of everything from the Kinks (perhaps the best point of comparison) to the Left Banke, Beatles, and Pretty Things. Also of note are the lyrics (despite the record being from Sweden, the band's lead singer was British), which are at times rather edgy for the time period (have a listen to the linked file for an example).
I have been listening to this record incessantly, and am horrified that it never managed to chart in the UK or US. As far as I'm concerned, it's on par with SF Sorrow or any of the Kinks' contemporaneous albums. Always a shame when great art goes unnoticed...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
2.001
There's a lot to love about Brazilian music. I've always been a huge fan of bossa nova, and have spent many long hours listening to the work of Antonio Carlos Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes, among others. From the perspective of a songwriter, if find there's very little out there that can match the classic bossa in terms of harmonic sophistication.
As much as I have always been impressed by the sheer musicality of bossa nova, it's Brazil's status as a musical melting pot that has kept me continually fascinated. At no time was this status more apparent than the late 60s. Artists fused elements of bossa, American and British psychedelic rock, African music, and Brazilian traditional folk to create something that was far greater than the sum of its parts. Most impressive: this free-spirited fusion was also actively political - and it was achieved during a period of rigid military dictatorship in the country. As American artists fancied themselves revolutionaries in their opposition to Vietnam, their contemporaries in Brazil were being imprisoned for anti-government activities.
Things have changed quite a bit for the key figures on the scene these days. Os Mutantes recently completed a successful reunion tour that brought them through the United States, among other places. 35+ years after their exile from Brazil, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil are internationally recognized as two of the world's foremost songwriters and activists. Gil is now the Brazilian cultural minister, in fact.
As impressive as their achievements have been, the music still speaks loudest. It sounds radical and groundbreaking even by today's standards. Imagine how it would have sounded in 1969...
Here is Gilberto Gil's "2.001" (from his 1969 self-titled record) as an example:
As much as I have always been impressed by the sheer musicality of bossa nova, it's Brazil's status as a musical melting pot that has kept me continually fascinated. At no time was this status more apparent than the late 60s. Artists fused elements of bossa, American and British psychedelic rock, African music, and Brazilian traditional folk to create something that was far greater than the sum of its parts. Most impressive: this free-spirited fusion was also actively political - and it was achieved during a period of rigid military dictatorship in the country. As American artists fancied themselves revolutionaries in their opposition to Vietnam, their contemporaries in Brazil were being imprisoned for anti-government activities.
Things have changed quite a bit for the key figures on the scene these days. Os Mutantes recently completed a successful reunion tour that brought them through the United States, among other places. 35+ years after their exile from Brazil, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil are internationally recognized as two of the world's foremost songwriters and activists. Gil is now the Brazilian cultural minister, in fact.
As impressive as their achievements have been, the music still speaks loudest. It sounds radical and groundbreaking even by today's standards. Imagine how it would have sounded in 1969...
Here is Gilberto Gil's "2.001" (from his 1969 self-titled record) as an example:
2.001
Additionally, it is interesting to note that the scene was rather tightly-knit. Collaboration rather than competition was the norm among the nation's finest musicians. Here is evidence: Os Mutantes covering "2.001" live with Gilberto Gil (their recorded version can be found - sans Gil - on their second record, Mutantes).
Thursday, January 10, 2008
A Captain Beefheart Education
The first time I ever heard Captain Beefheart was when I commandeered my father's old vinyl copy of Frank Zappa's Hot Rats. I was about 12 at the time, and put on the record knowing only "Peaches En Regalia." I was fairly certain that the rest of the record was along the same lines as the track I knew - an instrumental. For the most part, I was correct. The glaring exception was "Willie the Pimp," a track featuring Beefheart on vocals. I remember being in awe of the sheer filth the man could coax out of his vocal cords.
Several years later, I got my hands on a copy of Beefheart's classic, Trout Mask Replica, which I won't even attempt to describe. I will say, however, that it kicked my ass in ways that most "normal" records can only dream of. Those of you who are feeling adventurous owe it a listen. It is tremendously rewarding, but requires a significant time investment. And for those of you who prefer your music to be a little less abstract, I suggest a listen to Safe as Milk, Beefheart's first record. It's far far more accessible than its younger brother.
Below are all three parts of an excellent 1997 BBC documentary on the Captain, which I have listed in order from top to bottom.
Several years later, I got my hands on a copy of Beefheart's classic, Trout Mask Replica, which I won't even attempt to describe. I will say, however, that it kicked my ass in ways that most "normal" records can only dream of. Those of you who are feeling adventurous owe it a listen. It is tremendously rewarding, but requires a significant time investment. And for those of you who prefer your music to be a little less abstract, I suggest a listen to Safe as Milk, Beefheart's first record. It's far far more accessible than its younger brother.
Below are all three parts of an excellent 1997 BBC documentary on the Captain, which I have listed in order from top to bottom.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
A Rare Political Endorsement
As regular readers of Mp3some well know, I try to keep my postings strictly musical in nature. Aside from my belief that long-standing Republican dynasties and bad mainstream music go hand in hand (see: 1980 - 1988, 2000 - 2008), politics and music usually don't mix in my mind. However, I have decided in the wake of the New Hampshire primary to deliver a political endorsement. I am not under the impression that my opinions will have any bearings on your own decisions, and I do not expect to change any minds. This said, in the off chance that I might change some minds, I am writing.
First things first: I am a terribly cynical individual. In general, I view politicians with a vast amount of contempt. I tolerate and mildly support those individuals who work towards my own agenda, and scoff at the rest as pandering fools (which isn't to say that the ones I do tolerate aren't pandering fools - they've just done a decent job of pandering to me, and so I accept them).
This said, for the first time in my life, I am genuinely excited about a presidential candidate. I do not feel as if I am being pandered to, nor as if I am choosing a lesser of two (or in the case of the primaries, the least of several) evils. For the first time, I understand what it must have felt like to see RFK running in '68. I am speaking, of course, of Barack Obama and his candidacy. In a political landscape characterized by fear mongering, sloganeering, and hard-headed partisanship, Mr. Obama has remained a force insistent upon adhering to principles of positivity, intelligent discussion, and pragmatism. If there is anybody who can reverse the course of this country after the last eight years with a belligerent ape at the helm, I believe it is Obama.
Consider this cynic charmed. Rarely are mainstream candidates this good. We ought to take advantage of this situation by electing him.
On another note: if you're a registered Republican, will you do us all a favor and do what you can to make sure Mitt Romney doesn't get the nomination? As a former Massachusetts resident, I saw what Romney's strong leadership consisted of: a load of broken promises, position changes, and a style of governance that was horribly out of step with his state's populace. Not that I voted for him in the first place. Mitt Romney is the most dangerous man currently running for president (with Mike Huckabee close behind), and he must be stopped.
Anyway, enough of this political missive. Back to the music.
First things first: I am a terribly cynical individual. In general, I view politicians with a vast amount of contempt. I tolerate and mildly support those individuals who work towards my own agenda, and scoff at the rest as pandering fools (which isn't to say that the ones I do tolerate aren't pandering fools - they've just done a decent job of pandering to me, and so I accept them).
This said, for the first time in my life, I am genuinely excited about a presidential candidate. I do not feel as if I am being pandered to, nor as if I am choosing a lesser of two (or in the case of the primaries, the least of several) evils. For the first time, I understand what it must have felt like to see RFK running in '68. I am speaking, of course, of Barack Obama and his candidacy. In a political landscape characterized by fear mongering, sloganeering, and hard-headed partisanship, Mr. Obama has remained a force insistent upon adhering to principles of positivity, intelligent discussion, and pragmatism. If there is anybody who can reverse the course of this country after the last eight years with a belligerent ape at the helm, I believe it is Obama.
Consider this cynic charmed. Rarely are mainstream candidates this good. We ought to take advantage of this situation by electing him.
On another note: if you're a registered Republican, will you do us all a favor and do what you can to make sure Mitt Romney doesn't get the nomination? As a former Massachusetts resident, I saw what Romney's strong leadership consisted of: a load of broken promises, position changes, and a style of governance that was horribly out of step with his state's populace. Not that I voted for him in the first place. Mitt Romney is the most dangerous man currently running for president (with Mike Huckabee close behind), and he must be stopped.
Anyway, enough of this political missive. Back to the music.
Lenola
In the days before college students checked Pitchfork on a daily basis for their "what should I think is cool" cues (for the record: I enjoy reading Pitchfork, but despise individuals who treat it as the online version of the indie Bible), I searched for new music on Epitonic.com. This was way back around 2001. Among the bands I discovered was Lenola, a group that had apparently been a Philadelphia fixture since the mid-90's. They had just released Treat Me to Some Life, their fourth entry in what would be a five album discography. I somehow tracked down a copy of the record, and was pleasantly surprised. It was a nice amalgamation of influences, the songs were well written, and the vocals were unique enough to keep me interested.
Subsequently, I researched the band's back catalog, hoping to find more of the same good music. A few listens to their older material suggested that the band had evolved - while I certainly didn't dislike any of their previous records, none of them could hold a candle to Treat Me to Some Life. I eagerly anticipated what would be their final album, Sharks and Flames. Again, it was apparent that the band had further evolved - their final album was a sprawling 2-disc affair with (as I recall) more electronic flourishes than their earlier material. I was slightly disappointed - the album was by no means poor, I'm just personally averse to electronics in my rock music. I would have to be content with their magnum opus, Treat Me to Some Life.
Today, the main songwriters from Lenola are in a new band, Like a Fox. They seem to have picked up where Lenola left off, recording succinct pop songs with an increased emphasis on electronics. I can't say I care for the material all too much - certainly not as much as I care for my favorite Lenola release, at least.
Nonetheless, I still listen to Treat Me to Some Life with fair regularity. Below is a video for the first track on the record, "First Floor Killer."
Subsequently, I researched the band's back catalog, hoping to find more of the same good music. A few listens to their older material suggested that the band had evolved - while I certainly didn't dislike any of their previous records, none of them could hold a candle to Treat Me to Some Life. I eagerly anticipated what would be their final album, Sharks and Flames. Again, it was apparent that the band had further evolved - their final album was a sprawling 2-disc affair with (as I recall) more electronic flourishes than their earlier material. I was slightly disappointed - the album was by no means poor, I'm just personally averse to electronics in my rock music. I would have to be content with their magnum opus, Treat Me to Some Life.
Today, the main songwriters from Lenola are in a new band, Like a Fox. They seem to have picked up where Lenola left off, recording succinct pop songs with an increased emphasis on electronics. I can't say I care for the material all too much - certainly not as much as I care for my favorite Lenola release, at least.
Nonetheless, I still listen to Treat Me to Some Life with fair regularity. Below is a video for the first track on the record, "First Floor Killer."
Monday, January 7, 2008
An Introduction to Moby Grape
Hailing from San Francisco in 1966, Moby Grape was a band that should have become a household name. Their 1967 self-titled debut record plays like a greatest hits album, rivaling the Jefferson Airplane's Surrealistic Pillow as the era's definitive "San Francisco record." Unfortunately, due to circumstances both in and out of the band's control, the record was largely overlooked by mainstream audiences. Furthermore, the events following the release of the debut seem as if they were scripted for a This Is Spinal Tap sequel.
Perhaps the first sign that things were about to go awry came when the band took a photo for their album cover:
You will note that the individual sitting behind the washboard is brazenly displaying his middle finger - certainly acceptable by today's standards, but a bit risqué for 1967. In response to this, the label airbrushed out the offending finger and released the album. The label also thought it would be a fine idea to release five singles from the album - all at once. Needless to say, the hype job didn't work too well.
On top of the endless bungling from the label/management end, the band began to have its own internal problems. Being from San Francisco in the mid-late 60s, it goes without saying that Moby Grape indulged in their fair share of substances. Unfortunately, they indulged in more than that - they were charged with "contributing to the delinquency of minors" by the San Francisco police - apparently, the band liked 'em young.
On top of this, Skip Spence, perhaps the band's most talented member, became one of the first American acid casualties and lost his mind. Evidence of his insanity can be found on his 1969 solo record, Oar.
Despite all of the ridiculousness surrounding Moby Grape, we still have their debut record, which remains a powerful reminder of the band's unrealized promise. We also have a scattering of concert recordings here and there. Below is some footage of the band performing "Hey Grandma" and "Sitting by the Window" live on television. Note the final verse in "Hey Grandma": "Robitussin makes me feel so fine..." Apparently, while their hippie peers were smoking schwag, these guys were robo-tripping. That explains a lot.
Perhaps the first sign that things were about to go awry came when the band took a photo for their album cover:
You will note that the individual sitting behind the washboard is brazenly displaying his middle finger - certainly acceptable by today's standards, but a bit risqué for 1967. In response to this, the label airbrushed out the offending finger and released the album. The label also thought it would be a fine idea to release five singles from the album - all at once. Needless to say, the hype job didn't work too well.On top of the endless bungling from the label/management end, the band began to have its own internal problems. Being from San Francisco in the mid-late 60s, it goes without saying that Moby Grape indulged in their fair share of substances. Unfortunately, they indulged in more than that - they were charged with "contributing to the delinquency of minors" by the San Francisco police - apparently, the band liked 'em young.
On top of this, Skip Spence, perhaps the band's most talented member, became one of the first American acid casualties and lost his mind. Evidence of his insanity can be found on his 1969 solo record, Oar.
Despite all of the ridiculousness surrounding Moby Grape, we still have their debut record, which remains a powerful reminder of the band's unrealized promise. We also have a scattering of concert recordings here and there. Below is some footage of the band performing "Hey Grandma" and "Sitting by the Window" live on television. Note the final verse in "Hey Grandma": "Robitussin makes me feel so fine..." Apparently, while their hippie peers were smoking schwag, these guys were robo-tripping. That explains a lot.
Friday, January 4, 2008
See and Don't See
Apologies to those of you who have been regularly checking the blog during my holiday break. I will return to my regularly-scheduled posting on the 7th.
In the meantime, I have uploaded a new track for your listening pleasure: "See and Don't See," the first track off of Marie "Queenie" Lyons' record, Soul Fever. A friend of mine asked me today if I had discovered any new music lately, and this was one of the first tracks that came to mind. I described Lyons to him as sounding "like the product of a bizarre lesbian pregnancy involving Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin."
I stand by that comparison.
For what it's worth, the rest of the record is just as good as this track. Certainly worth tracking down if you can find it.
In the meantime, I have uploaded a new track for your listening pleasure: "See and Don't See," the first track off of Marie "Queenie" Lyons' record, Soul Fever. A friend of mine asked me today if I had discovered any new music lately, and this was one of the first tracks that came to mind. I described Lyons to him as sounding "like the product of a bizarre lesbian pregnancy involving Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin."
I stand by that comparison.
For what it's worth, the rest of the record is just as good as this track. Certainly worth tracking down if you can find it.
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