Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Gentle on My Mind

My relationship with country music has always been somewhat of a strained one. On one hand, I do enjoy some country classics - I have a few Johnny Cash records, and I have a soft spot for some old Hank Williams every now and then. On the other hand, I've come to revile what country - more appropriately pop country - has become. Put it this way: if you locked me in a room with Shania Twain playing at full blast, I'd probably start cutting myself (deeply) after a couple of minutes. There's just something about the genre in it's purest form that makes me feel out of sorts. Perhaps it's due to circumstance. I've never lived anywhere that could be considered even remotely "country." I didn't grow up listening to folks plucking on a banjo with their friends (quite the contrary, I grew up listening to a Fender Rhodes piano). And while I'm sure there are some people out there who find comfort in a slow country drawl, I am not one of those individuals. In fact, I'm slightly put off by the "twang," as it were.

Still, I've never been able to completely pan the stuff, even though I actively enjoy so little of it. I think part of this is because I've grown to love a lot of music that proudly displays its country influences. For example, I've always gravitated towards good pedal steel work - "Pearl of the Quarter" by Steely Dan and "It Just Might Be a One Shot Deal" by Frank Zappa come to mind. I also enjoy tasteful fiddle work - most notably anything by Sugarcane Harris. Hell, I own quite a few records that sound almost country - some Byrds, some Flying Burrito Brothers, and the first Seatrain record being the examples that pop into my head.
I'm always impressed by the things that rockers do with their country influences.

This brings me to From Elvis in Memphis (1969). Recorded at American Sound Studios in Memphis, the album sought to recapture the roots of Elvis' music - the blend of country, gospel, and blues that had defined him in his youth. Backed by a cast of ace session musicians (most notably Tommy Cogbill on bass), Presley proceeded to make what would be his last truly great album.

Today's selection is from this album: "Gentle on My Mind." The track was originally written by country artist John Hartford, who wrote the tune after seeing Dr. Zhivago for the first time. Glen Campbell subsequently recorded the song for a hit in 1968. Here, we see the two performing a VERY country duet of the track:




Not my steez. But a great song is a great song...

Elvis' version of the track is a radical reinterpretation. For one, the presence of the clavinet is rather interesting (though certainly not surprising, given that Memphis was a center of soul music at the time). Cogbill's bass work is also grounded in soul more than anything else (again not a surprise, given his work with Aretha Franklin). The Hammond organ and backing vocalists suggest a heavy gospel influence. Come to think of it, the only truly "country" aspects of the song are the twangy Fender Telecaster playing lead and the sporadic harmonica lines - and as far as I'm concerned, that's all the "country" it needs.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Blond

In January, I posted about Studio, a record by Swedish group the Tages. A reminder: Studio should be on your list of records to hear - it's holds up nicely against contemporaneous offerings by the Kinks, Pretty Things, and Zombies, among others. I still think it's criminal that the album never charted in the UK or the States.

In 1968, the Tages broke up when lead singer Tommy Blom left the group. The remaining members formed Blond and rushed into the studio to record an album. The result was 1969's The Lilac Years, a record that would be the band's only statement. In comparison to Studio, The Lilac Years is somewhat evolved - while the band retained its impeccable melodic sense and songwriting in Blom's absence, the general sound of the group became slightly more progressive. There was a greater prevalence of piano, and the arrangements were generally bigger and more adventurous. Furthermore, The Lilac Years was not as stylistically consistent - whereas Studio sat firmly in the mod rock camp, the sole Blond album had great diversity. There are tracks with arrangements reminiscent of Scott Walker ("Deep Inside My Heart," "The Lilac Years"), proto-glam (the opening "Six White Horses"), and "brass rock"
in the vein of early Blood, Sweat & Tears ("Don't You Forget the Lady"). Apparently, the band had something of an identity crisis in the wake of the Tages split. As testament to this, here's a clip of Blond covering "The Weight" by the Band. Actually pretty decent:





Today, I'm posting two tracks. First, "Like A Woman" off of Studio - it gives you a nice Tages/Blond point of comparison, and it's also one hell of a song. Second, "Sailing Across the Ocean" from The Lilac Years.

I cannot reiterate enough: find yourself a copy of Studio. And while you're at it, why not give The Lilac Years a look as well?


Friday, February 22, 2008

Love for Eric Dolphy

I've always found that days as miserable as today (for those of you outside of the Northeast US: it's snowing pretty hard right now) are ideal for jazz. Snow seems to bring with it a deafening silence of sorts, and jazz seems best suited to break the silence.

Today's media centers around two of the greatest sax (woodwind in general, really) players of all time: John Coltrane and Eric Dolphy. While Coltrane is typically seen as the king of his instrument (second perhaps only to Charlie Parker), Dolphy receives slightly less attention. It has been said about Dolphy's playing that it was "too outside to be in, but too inside to be out" - that is, his improvisational sensibilities were too avant-garde to be readily consumed by much of the public, but were also too grounded in convention to be considered completely avant-garde. As far as I'm concerned, this is what made him so brilliant - he had the ability to make you feel entirely uncomfortable and pacified in the same breath. Here, we see Dolphy and Coltrane in a quintet together performing "My Favorite Things." Coltrane is on soprano sax, and Dolphy is on flute - note their different approaches to playing over the same chord changes.





As far as I'm concerned, Eric Dolphy is one of the guys to listen to in 60s jazz. His work with Charles Mingus is particularly astounding - no surprise, given that one of Mingus' best traits was his ability to extract the very best from every musician with whom he worked. For those of you who are interested, might I suggest Mingus at Antibes - a wonderful introduction to the work of both Dolphy and Mingus. For those of you who are more adventurous, check out Dolphy's 1964 solo effort, Out to Lunch.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Humanizing the Beatles

For those of us who grew up listening to our parents' vinyl copies of the Beatles, the band is nothing less than a monolithic presence. We did not have the benefit of having watched the band evolve in real time, nor a full understanding of the cultural milieu from which it sprung. All we had were records, films (some of which are animated), and the steadfast assertions of many critics and listeners (myself included) that the band was the finest the world has seen since the rock 'n' roll era began. As such, we tend to put the Beatles on a pedestal, treating them less like a band of individuals and more like a group of folk heroes. Hell, the first visual representation I saw of the band was in the form of the animated Yellow Submarine, a film that endowed the band's music with magical liberating powers. These guys are rock 'n' roll Paul Bunyan figures to much of my generation, and I suspect that they will remain as such for generations to come. The pity is that this folk hero status has, to a large extent, stripped the band of its humanity.

The task of humanizing the Beatles was something I stumbled upon accidentally. A long while ago - several years before the Anthology series was released - a friend of my father's made a cassette copy of a Beatles bootleg (which, after doing research a number of years later, turned out to be Glyn Johns' Get Back mixes). Much of the bootleg contained similar versions of the songs from Let it Be (in fact, some of the versions on the bootleg later appeared on Let it Be... Naked). It also contained a couple of tracks I had not heard before - including some very off-the-cuff cuts. Having only heard the band's proper records (which are models of studio perfection), I was shocked to hear an aborted half-assed version of "Save the Last Dance for Me" in which nobody knew the lyrics. "These were the Beatles, as well," I thought, "studio perfectionists, but fuck-offs like the rest of us." I wore the cassette out completely within a year or two, playing it incessantly. It finally died in my Walkman one fateful day while I was mowing the lawn. I would not hear its contents again until nearly ten years later - with a little help from a Russian MP3 site, of course.

My experience with the tape led me to seek out as many Beatles bootlegs as I could - a difficult prospect in the days long before MP3s ruled the world, but quite a bit easier now. Today, I've amassed a fairly large amount of them - my pride and joy being a 17 disc compilation of the Get Back sessions. There is no better way to study the evolution of the music - or the evolution of the group dynamic, for that matter - than by listening to these unreleased recordings.

Today, I am posting three separate items. First - a video of the Beatles performing "Besame Mucho" during the Get Back sessions. The song had been part of the band's repertoire during its early days in Hamburg, Germany. Here, they reprise a sloppy and sluggish version over eight years after they originally played it to German club patrons. Note Paul's faux-operatic singing:





I am also posting "Rocker/Save the Last Dance for Me," the track that sparked my fascination with Beatles bootlegs in the first place. The Rhodes piano player is Billy Preston, who accompanied the band for much of the Get Back sessions.

Finally, in the "odds and ends" department, I'm posting a clip from the "Think for Yourself" sessions. It's a short one involving all studio chatter. Most interesting: around 17 seconds into the track, John Lennon can be heard singing "Do you want to hold a penis" off mic to the tune of "Do You Want to Know a Secret." Amazing the band was able to get any work done...

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

The Misunderstood

Late in his life, legendary BBC DJ John Peel would often be asked during interviews about the greatest shows he'd ever seen. One band always made the list: The Misunderstood. Peel discovered the band before his BBC days as he was working radio in San Bernadino, CA. Hailing from nearby Riverside, The Misunderstood so impressed Peel that he offered to personally manage them. He then convinced the group to move to London and take on guitarist Tony Hill. It was here that the band's all-too-brief career came to full fruition.

Driven by the deep vocals of Rick Brown and the distorted steel guitar of Glenn Ross Campbell, the band proceeded to kick London's ass. Their music and stage show (which included a rather elaborate lighting display) would influence the nascent London psychedelic scene, which included admirers such as Pink Floyd's Syd Barrett. The band released its first single, "I Can Take You to the Sun" in December of 1966 to great critical acclaim. To this day, it is considered one of the finest psychedelic pop singles of all time.

Unfortunately, at the height of its popularity, the band was fractured by circumstance as Rick Brown was drafted for Vietnam. The Misunderstood left under thirty minutes of recorded material from their London period, all of which sounds ahead of its time. Who knows what would have been if the band had remained intact during the height of London's psychedelic era?


Today, I'm posting two tracks: "I Can Take You to the Sun," their classic single, and "Find a Hidden Door," my personal favorite. The latter is notable for its frequent stopping and starting o
n a dime, as well as the layered vocals during some of those breaks.


Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Makeup Artists

A few days ago, I found myself coming up with a list of bands and artists that wear (or have worn) excessive makeup on stage. I had intended to prove that "makeup bands" were all uniformly crappy. However, as the list grew, the facts became a little more complicated. In order to reach some hard conclusions, I was going to to have to do some serious research...

Select Instances of Gratuitous Makeup Use

THE HELLO PEOPLE (Consistent use, 1967 - 1975)



The Hello People bring their ridiculous mimery to Teen Time

The Hello People, to my knowledge, were one of the first bands (if not the first) to don full makeup for their performances. Originating in New York's Greenwich Village, the band was the brainchild of producer Lou Futterman and French mime artist Etienne De Crux. The concept (I shit you not): mime/rock fusion. The band played its shows as French street performers, performing mime routines between songs and making sure never to speak to the audience.
Their music itself was fairly forgettable, never making the charts. Despite this, the band somehow managed to land a couple of television appearances (among them: a gig on The Tonight Show).

Later, The Hello People backed none other than Todd Rundgren on tour in the 70s (no doubt a result of Rundgren's own affinity for makeup... not to mention his gratuitous use of drugs).

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

The Hello People's music was nothing special, yet they managed to get on The Tonight Show. We can safely assume that the makeup gimmick probably fueled this appearance - not to mention any other success that the band experienced.



DAVID BOWIE (Consistent use, 1972 - 1975. Sporadic use thereafter)

David Bowie - Aladdin Sane

Bowie done up for the Aladdin Sane cover

This was the primary wrench in the gears when I made my original list. How could I criticize "makeup bands" and still unapologetically listen to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust with a clear conscience? Bowie very conspicuously donned makeup for his public appearances during the glam period, evoking both the ire of conservative Brits and the admiration of young music fans. Bowie's use of makeup eventually faded away as his career evolved. However, he did resurrect it from time to time - most notably on the video for "Ashes to Ashes" and his appearance with a young Jennifer Connelly in The Labyrinth.

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

While Bowie most certainly received an extraordinary amount of attention for his use of makeup, one could make the argument that he would have achieved comparable fame based on the strength of his "makeup period" albums (all of which are uniformly considered classics by both critics and casual listeners alike). However, the makeup most certainly did further Bowie's popularity and public image.


ALICE COOPER (Consistent use, 1969 - present)



"School's Out" in the early 70s

Alice Cooper's use of makeup is, like his music itself, very much tied into the desire to playfully shock audiences. His campy stage shows are known for resembling cheap horror flicks, and often involve excessive use of props such as guillotines and boa constrictors. His makeup seems to be a nod to his B-lot horror movie aesthetic.

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

Alice Cooper's stage show - not specifically his makeup - is what propelled him to success (along with a couple of legitimate radio hits along the way). However, the makeup was most certainly a large part of the package. We can assume that Cooper is more recognizable to the public because of his consistent application of the face paint. Could Alice Cooper have succeeded without the makeup? Perhaps - his stage show was bizarre enough without it. But it certainly ties the whole thing together nicely.



KISS (Consistent use, 1973 - present)
KISS puts on a show...

There are legions of people out there who adore KISS. I'm not one of them, so I can't comment from experience. However, I have a theory about KISS fans. I don't think I've ever caught somebody actually listening to a KISS record, and due to this, I've always assumed that fans of the band were attracted more to the stage show gimmicks than the music itself. And what a stage show it is - leather suits, face paint, blood and fire spitting, etc...

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

The identity of KISS is fundamentally tied into its use of makeup - one cannot divorce the band from the face paint. Furthermore, none of the band's albums are considered "classics," nor did any of them sell particularly well. Still, the band has a devoted following. We can only assume this is because of their ridiculous stage show - something that is made possible by the makeup. Does KISS achieve any of its success without the face paint? Absolutely not.


THE MISFITS (Sporadic use, 1977 - 1983)

The Misfits - Walk Among Us

All decked out.

Much like Alice Cooper, seminal punk band The Misfits often wore makeup to further their campy horror-film aesthetic. Unlike Cooper, however, the Misfits did not rely on an overly elaborate stage show to entertain people - they were content to let their music do that. Furthermore, the makeup was not consistently employed.

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

One could argue that the Misfits' devilocks were more recognizable and distinct than their makeup use. However, the makeup certainly did further the band's horror-punk aesthetic. This said, the band's early records are influential and well-loved. Would the Misfits have succeeded without the makeup? Absolutely - but they may not have become as iconic as they are now.


SLIPKNOT (No use)

Slipknot - Slipknot

They're a MASK band, not a makeup band. How I was mistaken.


I was under the impression that Slipknot employed the makeup gimmick. What else could explain the band's popularity? The music isn't exactly memorable, that's for damned sure. But I was wrong about the makeup use. Apparently, two-dimensional makeup is not enough to salvage this pathetic excuse for a metal band. No - they opt for masks, makeup's three-dimensional cousin. That third dimension really puts them over the edge, I guess.

THE EFFECT OF MASKS

Would this band have received any publicity if it weren't for its use of the mask gimmick? The answer is a resounding "no."


MARILYN MANSON (Consistent use, 1994 - present)

Marilyn Manson - Smells Like Children

Love the whole "Willy Wonka meets the Joker" aesthetic.


Unlike the Misfits or Alice Cooper (both used "shock tactics" as elements of their respective aesthetics), Marilyn Manson's aesthetic is shock. As a result, his makeup is employed in a half-horror, half-gender-confused manner. Manson's makeup and stage show have been freaking out Christian fundamentalists for years now. I assume that if the fundamentalists actually bothered to listen to the music, that would freak them out as well.

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

Marilyn Manson did have a couple of chart-toppers at his peak. But was his exposure to the masses a result of his great songwriting? No. It was undoubtedly a result of his "unique" stage persona, which has always been far more marketable than any song he could possibly write. Without the makeup, there is no Marilyn Manson.


INSANE CLOWN POSSE (Consistent use, 1988 - present)



Violent J sheds some light on the origin of ICP's makeup in a 1995 interview.

According to the video interview above, the "insane clown" makeup is an artistic statement that likens the posse and its fans to a group of carnival freaks. Point taken, Violent J. But your music still treads "water in a sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry" (to borrow from This is Spinal Tap).

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

These guys have garnered a huge cult following (comprised of fans known as "juggalos"), and I would be willing to bet that it has little to do with their music. What is the Insane Clown Posse without the makeup? Two white guys from Detroit, that's what.


GOOD CHARLOTTE (Sporadic use, 1996 - present)
Note that the non-makeup-wearing members are relegated to the far corners of the photo.

As if it weren't already bad enough that these guys are polluting our airwaves, they also have the audacity to claim a punk rock lineage. Good Charlotte have made their fortune convincing 14 year-old girls that they're really punk rock. The makeup surely proves it, right? A little anecdote about the band from a friend: a number of years ago, Benji Madden (guitar/vocals in Good Charlotte) goes to CBGB after a show - he's all decked out in his makeup. While there, he meets up with Toby Morse, the frontman for New York hardcore mainstays H2O - a band that Benji idolizes. Morse and his friends (including NYC hardcore godfathers Freddy "Madball", Jimmy Gestapo, etc.) proceed to spend the evening lacing into Benji for his makeup-wearing, saying such things as "Ohhh, don't cry, little emo boy! Are you sad? Awww, poor emo boy's going to cry!" He stands there and takes it as Toby and Co. spend the entire night ripping him a new asshole. The next day, Benji appears on TRL with his band - sans makeup and wearing an H2O tee shirt. Talk about lack of a backbone...

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

Good Charlotte's ability to make music for a living is directly linked to their ability to convince teenagers (many of which don't know any better) that they're really edgy punk rockers. Obviously, the makeup is a part of this - as are the piercings and tattoos.


CHRISTINA AGUILERA (Consistent use, 1999 - present)
Somewhere behind several layers of powder is a human being.

Perhaps this is a bit unfair of me. Christina is, after all, a pop diva. She is expected to wear makeup all the time. But have you seen the extent of it? It's as if she's trying to look like a Nicaraguan prostitute.

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

This is actually a tough one. Obviously, the makeup increases Christina's visibility - it's hard not to notice her. But at the same time, she possesses perhaps the best voice of anyone in her "pop diva" genre - running circles around the likes of Britney Spears. In all likelihood, Aguilera would be fine (dare I say, better off?) without the makeup. Her voice is unique enough that it would probably have propelled her to success regardless.


BOY GEORGE (Consistent use, 1981 - present)




Brazenly homosexual. I think that was the point, though.

Boy George began his career with Culture Club in the early 80s, becoming the first artist since the Beatles to have three Billboard #1 singles from a debut record. George was the focal point of the group, enchanting the public with his voice and confusing people with his manner of dress. Clearly, George himself was not confused - he was sleeping with his drummer, Jon Moss, after all - and he dressed the part. As such, Boy George's use of makeup has always struck me as a genuine expression of his sexuality as opposed to a showbiz gimmick.

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

It's difficult to say how much of an effect the makeup had on Boy George's career. Obviously, his music was tremendously successful - one doesn't score three #1 hits solely based on image alone. Nonetheless, Culture Club most certainly did benefit from the controversy stirred up by George's gender-bending. Would the band have been as successful without George's makeup? Given the band's sound and the era in which they debuted, probably.


ROBERT SMITH (Semi-consistent use, 1976 - present)
It's the Crow! No, wait. It's the frontman from the Cure.

During his time with the Cure, Robert Smith often dressed in a fashion that could only be identified as "goth." To complement this style of dress, he also donned makeup on stage. Certainly this made sense, given that much of the band's recorded output could be considered "goth rock." Regardless of the genre, the Cure's first albums are considered classics in some circles.

THE EFFECT OF MAKEUP

One can safely say that Robert Smith's makeup was not integral to the success of the Cure. Certainly, it led the band to be identified with "goth rock" (though their music is on the fringes of the genre). However, the Cure's music - not Smith's image - was what drove the band to its success.


Conclusions on Makeup Use in Music

While I had hoped to find a constant thread between the various "makeup artists" on the list, it was impossible - David Bowie has about as much in common with Good Charlotte as I do with Ted Nugent. There are bands that use makeup, and then there are "makeup bands." While the former can be good, examples of the latter are rarely good.

Makeup is the anabolic steroid of the music world - it has the capacity to turn untalented fringe artists into household names. It also does a hell of a job covering up musical inadequacies, since most people seem not to care about songwriting when a rock and roll clown is nancing around in front of them.

Final conclusion: bands who rely on makeup as a crutch are not worth your time.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Another Concept Album

I do not recall where I first heard of Miss Butters (1968) by the Family Tree, a short-lived band featuring Bob Segarini (who later became popular in Canadian rock circles). I was probably browsing somebody's internet list of "psychedelic records you've never heard" and decided to track down the record.

Miss Butters is a rather interesting record from a number of perspectives. The record is a one-off from the band - this is particularly impressive, as very few artists debuted with concept albums (the one I can think of, off the top of my head, is Frank Zappa's Freak Out), and even fewer artists released concept albums as their sole statements. Musically speaking, it's clear that the band had some "big budget" ideas, but were not provided with the money necessary to realize them properly. The orchestral parts on the record sound rather thin and poorly recorded. Listen, for example, to the horns around that come in around the 23 second mark on "Birthday" (posted below) - clearly, the band had envisioned them as a grandiose fanfare to herald the birth of Miss Butters, the eponymous hero of the concept album - they sound underwhelming and flaccid. It seems that the band lacked the means to rent out entire orchestral sections, and instead had to rely on individual players to flesh out its vision. Nonetheless, that doesn't take away from the fact that it is a very focused vision. On the parts that they could flesh out properly, the band shined brightly. The harmonies are particularly impressive, suggesting that there was some significant arranging talent behind the Family Tree. The song itself is also very well written, with several twists and turns running seamlessly into one another.

"Birthday" is the first track on the record (which, like all concept albums, should be experienced as a whole to fully appreciate it), and is fair representative of the whole work.