SRC

How musically influential was Detroit in the 60s? The city produced Motown, which would forever color pop aesthetics. It produced some of the groups from which punk rock and heavy metal would later claim lineage - most notably the Stooges and the MC5. Detroit would also produce its own brand of psychedelia that has since been largely forgotten. The most famous of these psychedelic acts was the Amboy Dukes, which featured a young Ted Nugent on guitar. Apparently, the arch-conservative Nuge was unaware that his band's first hit, "Journey to the Center of the Mind," was about drugs. Go figure.

However, of all Detroit's psychedelic acts, my personal favorite is SRC - Scott Richardson Case. Powered by the guitar/Hammond organ pyrotechnics of Gary and Glenn Quackenbush and the vocals of Scott Richardson, the band made a name for itself as one of the finest Detroit live acts of the era. Frequenting the Grande Ballroom (the venue where the MC5 recorded Kick Out the Jams) and opening for national touring acts such as Jimi Hendrix, SRC was rather well-liked by the local scene. Like most of the era's Detroit rock, the band's music was more "acid rock" than feel-good psychedelia - its darker themes, feedback-laden guitars, and rawer aesthetic provide a nice counterpoint to the contemporaneous hippy-dippy West Coast fare. Today's track is "Black Sheep," SRC's biggest hit from their self-titled record. Note the menacing sustained guitar during the breaks in the song - you won't be finding anything like that on a Scott McKenzie record.

SRC's first record. Apparently, it sounds great on vinyl. No surprises there.

Nowadays, things have changed in Detroit. We've traded Motown and the Stooges for the Insane Clown Posse and Kid Rock - pennies on the dollar, as far as I'm concerned. Regardless, we still have old records as proof of Detroit's moment in the sun - a time when the Motor City was a hub for forward-thinking music.

Black Sheep

Ronnie Von Gets His Due

Today in musical circles outside of Brazil, Ronnie Von is best remembered as the man who introduced Os Mutantes to the masses. Certainly, he is deserving of such credit - his late-sixties television show, O Pequeno Mundo de Ronnie Von featured Mutantes as weekly performers during the band's infancy. However, the depth of Von's influence is far more significant than that of a mere television host.

Ronnie Von was a musician himself, and a rather successful one at that. While Brazilian musical sophisticates in the 60s typically opted either for Tropicália (Caetano Veloso, Gal Costa, Gilberto Gil, Os Mutantes, etc) or Bossa nova (Jobim, João Gilberto, Vinicius de Moraes) as their preferred genres, the mainstream masses were listening to "iê iê" - essentially the equivalent of teen pop. The genre's lyrics were uncomplicated, romantic, and inoffensive. Its music drew heavily from early American and British rock. It was within this genre that Von was a leading musical figure - so much so that he is still regarded by many as one of Brazil's finest popular singers ever. However, like much teen pop, "iê iê" was never regarded as being artistically substantive. While the Tropicalistas pushed the envelope, "iê iê" artists were candy makers, providing the masses with light pop.

From this milieu, Ronnie Von delivered his 1968 self-titled record. It was not his first record (nor his first self-titled record, for that matter), but it marked an interesting step for both him and the "iê iê" movement - it was an attempt to add more modern (well, modern for 1968) aesthetics to a genre that seemed to be stuck in the recent past. The album still sounds mainstream - it does still carry with it the schmaltz and cleanliness of big-budget pop. This said, it is nonetheless rather experimental for a straight pop album. Musically speaking, the arrangements and production are spotless. The record seems well informed by the symphonic pop of the era (The Walker Brothers being a point of comparison that comes to mind), and perhaps also the early work of the Tropicalistas. Regardless of the interesting leap forward, the record did not sell well - perhaps it was too "out there" for mainstream listeners, but too "inside" for the art scene. Indeed, the record seems to straddle such a line - it is unquestionably a pop record, though it carries some hallmarks of a more progressive effort.

When teen pop met Tropicalismo.

Today's post is "Esperança De Cantar," a track from the record. Note that the typical (though very competent) arrangement is punctuated by a fuzz guitar - a feature at home on a Gilberto Gil or Mutantes record, but surprising in a teen pop context.

Esperança De Cantar

Sly Stone

Perhaps nobody better embodied the rise and fall of the 60s dream than Sly Stone. From idealistic and brilliant beginnings to a gradual burnout, Sly is best remembered for either his heyday or his downfall. Personally, I am most fascinated with his transitional period.

Following his success with Stand! (1969) and a memorable Woodstock performance, the demands began to pile up. Record executives demanded Sly's next big hit. Activists in the Black Panther Party demanded that he make his music "blacker" - starting with the de-integration of his band (similar pressure was also being placed on Jimi Hendrix at the time). Combined with the normal inter-band tension that constant touring and recording brings, these demands would start to wear on Sly.

By the time There's a Riot Goin' On came out in 1971, Sly Stone was a changed man. His optimistic dreams of the late 60s had deflated, and the drug problems that would characterize his later career had started to surface. Indeed, There's a Riot Goin' On is regarded by many as one of the ultimate "death of the 60s" records. I have characterized it in the past as sounding like a drug den, complete with poor lighting, scattered debris, and interjections of alternating pain and joy. Today's offering, "Love n' Haight" is the first track on the record. The album is completely worth tracking down, and is my favorite by Mr. Stone.

In addition, I am posting two videos from Sly's later period. The first is an interview with Mike Douglas in which he appears quite lucid (which is rather surprising for 1974). The second is a performance from the same television show - note that despite the years having taken their toll on him, Sly's immense talent still shines through.

Love the guy on the right.

Great song, brilliant man.

Love n' Haight

Thank You, Lou Pearlman

Today in the "no surprises" department, Lou Pearlman will plead guilty to fraud. For those of you who aren't familiar with Mr. Pearlman's work, he is the "mastermind" behind such boy bands as the Backstreet Boys, N'Sync, LFO, O-Town, and a litany of other less successful "legitimate artists."

Looking like a plumper and more jovial version of Karl Rove,

Lou Pearlman is to blame for the late-90s boy band craze.

I can't say I'm shocked by this development. After all, Lou made his living (outside of creating businesses on paper and defrauding investors over a 20 year period, that is) by manufacturing musical acts, most of which had no actual talent, and none of which were organically formed. Much of the artificial shit-pop I was subjected to as a high school student had its genesis in Pearlman's bald head.

While I must say I'm tickled that he's being convicted of actual fraud, I'm somewhat upset that he cannot be tried for cultural swindling as well. This is an individual who convinced millions of screaming teenagers that five dancing boys with nominal vocal ability constituted music. This is an individual who stripped music of its spontaneity and dynamism, replacing it with carefully scripted contrivance and market-tested sheen. Teen pop has been a cultural phenomenon since the birth of the record industry, but never did it stoop as low as it did during the Pearlman era. The man had a key role in severely cheapening the art form most dear to me, and for that I can never forgive him.

Lou Pearlman's plea bargain will incriminate several other individuals involved in his web of lies. It will expose him to the public as the corrupt and immoral businessman that he is. On the same token, it will likely spare him extensive jail time. It may allow him to get back on his feet, sell his story, and live out the rest of his life comfortably before he finally succumbs to hypertension and/or congestive heart failure.

Most unfortunately, it will never repair the damage done to an entire generation of music consumers.

A Celebration of Kevin Ayers

I first discovered Kevin Ayers in a fairly roundabout manner. When I was a freshman in college, I was desperate for information about a relatively new band at the time: the Walkmen (it was early 2002). I was searching the internet for examples of the band's music when I came upon a streaming radio show on which they had been guest DJs. I hoped that the band would have played a song or two of their own. As I recall, they did nothing of the sort - they were just playing a bunch of their favorite records. The Walkmen closed the show by spinning a song that I instantly fell for: "Song for Insane Times" by Kevin Ayers.

I remember being fascinated by the track. It was the first time I had heard an electric organ through a wah pedal. The drummer was playing what I considered to be the perfect hybrid between "jazz drums" and "rock drums" (he turned out to be Robert Wyatt). The musician in me was impressed by the chord changes. Finally, I was captivated by Ayers' voice - a rich baritone that seemed nonchalant to the point of sloth.

Indeed, Kevin Ayers' career (and his life as well) has been marked by meted doses of insouciance. Ayers was the son of a BBC producer. His parents divorced when he was young, and his mother remarried a British civil servant. He spent much of his childhood in Malaysia, where he developed a taste for the easygoing tropical lifestyle very early on. Eventually, he would move back to Canterbury, UK, where he fell into the burgeoning music scene. He was a founding member of the Soft Machine, leaving the group after recording one album and touring the US in support of Jimi Hendrix. Burned out by the hectic schedule, he would move to Majorca to decompress (the Softs would write a song about this, "As Long as He Lies Perfectly Still"). Only after an extended absence did he return to the music world to record his debut record, Joy of a Toy (1969).

Here's a song for 'clean machine Kevin Majorca'
He's found his own way to live in Majorca
Don't walk, don't drink
Don't talk, just think
Heaven on earth, he'll get there soon.

Kevin's highly unlikely to get ill
At least as long as he lies perfectly still
He eats brown rice
And fish, how nice -
Heaven on earth, he'll get there soon.

- from "As Long as He Lies Perfectly Still," The Soft Machine Volume Two (1969)

Joy of a Toy is a lovely record. Some of it is pleasantly pastoral ("Town Feeling," "The Clarietta Rag"), some of it ridiculously absurd ("Joy of a Toy Continued," "Oleh Oleh Bandu Bandong"). However wonderful the record is, the greatest highlight for me remains "Song for Insane Times" - backed by his former Soft Machine bandmates, Ayers lets rip with a beautiful piece of psychedelic-jazz-pop perfection.

In addition to "Song for Insane Times," I have also posted a video of "May I," a track on Ayers' second album, Shooting at the Moon (1970). Among the members of his band are Lol Coxhill (saxophone) and Mike Oldfield (bass).

Interesting group of guys...

Song for Insane Times

Epilogue: Subsequently, I did track down the Walkmen's debut record and loved it. They remain one of my favorite contemporary bands. In addition, "Song for Insane Times" inspired me to seek out the Soft Machine's first two records - both of which have since eclipsed Joy of a Toy for me. But that's a story for another day...

A Chronology of Music Piracy

Since the beginning of the mp3 era, people have sought to use the internet as their own personal music library. Yet, it seems that every time the masses have "figured it out," the recording industry has showed up and put an end to the fun. What happens in the wake of such an event is always the same: after a month or two of lamenting that things will never be the same, music consumers discover a new means of file-sharing and the cycle starts anew. It's a game of cat and mouse that leaves the music industry fuming and consumers' hard drives clogged with mp3 files and obsolete file-sharing programs.

Today, I thought it would be nice to have a requiem for these obsolete applications/networks that brought us so much joy.

USENET (1979 - Present)

In the days before Napster, one of the few places to find pirated music and applications was on Usenet newsgroups. Newsgroups were essentially gigantic bulletin boards on which one could leave messages as well as large files. Unfortunately, Usenet peaked in popularity during a time before the widespread use of cable modems and DSL. This was fine if you were downloading a 10 mb rip of King's Quest V, but it was the kiss of death if you wanted to download entire albums. Nobody wanted to deal with 3+ hours of dropped connections and inconsistent download speeds.

Usenet is still very much alive, though not in wide use.

Things we learned: If this whole "internet" thing was going to catch on, the connections were going to need to be quite a bit faster.

Key tracks discovered: None. I was working with a 56K modem, and didn't have a profusion of hard drive space to begin with.

NAPSTER (1999 - 2001)

Introduced around the same time that high-speed internet started becoming commonplace.Napster was the first program that introduced the masses to the idea of free (albeit illegal) music. It was also the first program that brought the file sharing problem to the attention of major labels. The program worked very well before it became clogged with users, at which point, the main Napster servers became slow and unreliable. Third-party Napster servers sprung up to remedy this problem. Eventually, the recording industry shut down the program. It would later return as a legal version (a subscription service), though never experienced the success or popularity of its original incarnation.

Things we learned: Not only was file-sharing a viable means of obtaining records, but it was easier (and cheaper) than going to a record store. Furthermore, the selection was far better than your average Sam Goody. We also learned in the wake of the recording industry's anti-Napster campaign that Metallica just wasn't cool (though for the record, I had already known that for a very long while). Further proof of Metallica's lameness came with the release of 2003's St. Anger.

Key tracks discovered: Through the program, my initial interest in post-rock was sparked. The Swords Project's debut EP (which would have been impossible to obtain on the east coast at the time) and tracks from Mogwai's Ten Rapid (suggested to me by some Brits in a Napster chatroom) stick out in my mind. I also found "Fazon" by Sopwith Camel - a track that has since become a favorite - and got into surf rock for the first time. Most notably, I obtained an advance copy of Radiohead's Kid A about three months before its slated release - and bought it on the day it finally came out.

GNUTELLA (2000 - Present)

Following Napster's demise, Gnutella was promoted as the new frontier for file-sharing. Decentralized, massive, and supposedly easy to use, the program was supposed to be the savior. Unfortunately, it had its problems. For one, the searches never quite turned up as many results as Napster did. Furthermore, many (if not most) of the transfers were either slow or impossible to start in the first place. The network's inefficiency made it undesirable for serious music collectors.

Things we learned: Some degree of centralization is necessary for most P2P applications. Without it, we are faced with slow transfer speeds, fewer search results, and general inefficiency.

Key tracks discovered: None. Gnutella never really worked all that well for me, despite my best efforts. The only music I was able to find was mainstream pop. If I wanted that, I could have put on the radio.

AUDIOGALAXY (2001 - 2002)

To this day, I still miss Audiogalaxy. It may have been my favorite file-sharing program of all-time. The site's concept was excellent: the program itself was a little satellite application that ran in the background. All of the searching was done on the Audiogalaxy site. Users would select files for download in a queue, and Audiogalaxy would automatically connect them to the fastest possible download option. It was an extremely efficient and extensive database. Unfortunately, it was also perhaps the most blatantly illegal of all the P2P networks to date.

Things we learned: The greater the centralization, the more efficient and successful the network. Unfortunately, centralization was also the fastest way to being sued by the RIAA.

Key tracks discovered: Lots of odds and ends. Tons of post-rock and math rock, particularly from Chicago. I first heard tracks by Don Caballero, June of 44, the Shipping News, and the Mercury Program on Audiogalaxy.

SOULSEEK (2001 - Present)

The source for obscure music. Soulseek started as a community sharing avant garde and undergound music - particularly electronic music - and it has retained its independent edge. It was developed by Nir Arbel, a former member of the Napster team. The application isn't exactly the best place to find the new Linkin' Park record - though you're able to find mainstream material, there are far more efficient ways to do so from a file-sharing perspective. Perhaps Soulseek doesn't belong on this list, as it's not yet obsolete - nonetheless, I felt the need to address it.

Things we learned: The community aspect can make or break a file-sharing network. There are few people looking for mainstream pop on Soulseek's servers, and thus the server isn't clogged with junk.

Key tracks discovered: Lots of old music (psychedelic, soul, soundtrack) that hasn't been released on CD. Many vinyl rips. If you can't find a record in stores or on any other networks, chances are you'll eventually find it on Soulseek. You just need to know where (and when) to look.

BITTORRENT (2001 - Present)

On its own, the Bittorrent client does nothing. But coupled with a good tracker (OiNK and Demonoid were my favorites before they were shut down), it can be a force to be reckoned with. As such, Bittorrent itself does not seem to be in an legal danger - only the trackers that supply its users with content. The beauty of Bittorrent is that while there is no one centralized network, the client provides the opportunity for many different trackers to cater to their own specific user bases.

Things we learned: This one is still up in the air. OiNK and Demonoid have been shut down, but both look as if they may be back sooner rather than later (providing they find server space in a country sympathetic to their respective plights).

Key tracks discovered: I found an advance copy of TV on the Radio's Return to Cookie Mountain several months before its release on OiNK. This is probably my most significant Bittorrent coup.

LIMEWIRE (2001 - Present)

A traditional centralized P2P network, Limewire is most famous for its allowing users to download a file from multiple users at once. This technology makes for blazing fast download speeds. Unfortunately, the Limewire network is populated almost exclusively with mainstream pop, and its users have been targeted by RIAA lawsuits. Furthermore, due to the network's popularity, there are often viruses and irrelevant download links on its servers.

Things we learned: If you don't want to get sued, don't share your copies of Britney Spears albums on Limewire. Also, don't download any executable files.

Key tracks discovered: None. You don't look on Limewire for new music, you look for songs that everybody already knows.

Zappa vs. Mainstream Radio

Given Frank Zappa's penchant for making unconventional music, it is no surprise that he never scored any smash hit singles on mainstream radio. This didn't stop him from attempting, however. He described the situation during a 1968 concert in Boston (I've added boldface type for emphasis):

Now we got desperate a few months ago and uh, because we thought nobody liked us. And uh, we're also pissed off at the fact that people won't play our records on the radio, and we didn't know whether or not it was 'cause our music was crappy or because somebody really knew what the words to the songs meant... However boys and girls, the people who run the radio stations are on the watch, you know, for our records, when they come in as soon as somebody sends a single to the radio station with our name on it they either melt it, break it, stomp on it or send it in an envelope directly back to the record company from which it came with a threatening note. But we said, "What the heck? Why can't we be just like other teen-age rock & roll bands -- outside of the fact that we're all over thirty -- and go and cut a single record and try and get the sucker on the radio?" So what we did was we went into a professional recording studio in New York City in the middle of the night for two nights in a row and also a Saturday afternoon for mixing and cranked out two miserable teen-age type records with words that couldn't possibly offend anybody and uh they're reasonably singable -- by any group other than the Mothers Of Invention -- and uh, they're teen-age boy-girl type songs. And so they're being released this week. I would expect to be able to add these to our list of smash flops very shortly.

- Frank Zappa, The Ark, 1968

The single Zappa was referring to was "My Guitar"/"Valarie," and it did in fact tank as he had anticipated - though not in the form he had anticipated. "Valarie" would never be released as a B-side - "My Guitar" would be accompanied by "Dog Breath" on 45. Later, a reworked version of "My Guitar" would appear on Zappa's classic 1970 album, Weasels Ripped My Flesh, as "My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama." "Valarie," in the meantime, would appear unaltered as a bookend to the heavily instrumental Burnt Weeny Sandwich (1970).

Anyone wishing to get on my good side can do so by purchasing me a pristine copy of this 45.

Today's post is the original single version of "My Guitar," which is radically different from the album version of the song. First of all, the tempo is slower. The horns that characterize the Weasels version are absent. Zappa's guitar is also featured in more of a prominent role on the 45 version. Overall, the single version sounds a lot more like standard 60s pop than the album version. No surprise, given that this is what Zappa was going for.

My Guitar