getLevitation

Still got an itch...

2005-08-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

...that needs to be scratched?

getLevitation may be dead (at least for now), but that doesn't mean it's over.

Try this on for size.

Technical difficulties

2005-06-28T21:22:00.000-07:00

We were "offline" for a few days due to Blogger erasing part of our template without our permission. Bad Blogger.

Anyway, we'll have a new post up shortly. Thanks for your patience. And in the meantime, enjoy our MP3s of the (last) Week. (See below.)

MP3s of the Week: Dumb and the Ugly

2005-06-19T16:07:00.000-07:00

I was first hipped to Dumb and the Ugly sometime last year, via the following blurb from the good folks at Aquarius Records, who had just stumbled across a hidden stash of their 1992 disc, Atmospheres of Metal:

In our experience a lot of the best (and, of course, worst) cds released end up languishing in a forgotten corner of some distributor's warehouse, or under the label owner's bed... It's quite possible for something great but obscure to get released in an edition of 1,000 and then ten years later there's still 700+ copies gathering dust in a closet somewhere. We suspect that this Dumb And The Ugly cd is an example of this (though that's just a guess, maybe it sold well and has been re-pressed). What we do know is that this came out in 1992 in Australia and we liked it then and it's still great and we somehow just got a hold of a few copies. Despite the title, this isn't a "metal" album per se. It IS quite atmospheric, its eight tracks almost alternating between sheer sinister ambience (shortwave sounds, distorted operatic singing, underwatery drones) and heavy-duty guitar riffage a la Helmet or Circle. It's lumbering thud-rock with definite weird arty dark psychedelic pretensions, successfully so. We've only got a few but presumably there's more where these came from...

At the time I was absolutely obsessed with the mighty Circle (who by the way are touring the States this fall!!!), and so jotted this down as a disc to watch out for. Well lo and behold, some three months later, while diggin' around the more obscure corners of ebay, I too stumbled across a copy.

Atmospheres of Metal is powerful stuff, sounding very much like what you might expect from its title. It's atmospheric as hell, loaded with heavy, lumbering, repetitive riffs that cut through the ambience and bludgeon their way into your head. In other words, Earth fans--rejoice!

As a tremendously interesting side note, lead guitarist David Brown was once a member of AC/DC for three weeks in 1976, before being kicked out for "excessive artistic endeavour." I'd love to get some more details on that spat! Nowadays, Brown pals around with KK Null and kicks it with other folks in Melbourne's experimental community.

Check out the songs in the sidebar, hear more samples at Aquarius, or buy the CD direct from Dr. Jim's Records!

N/P Thin Lizzy - Bad Reputation

MP3s of the Week: Beard-Folk Cult Grows Larger

2005-06-12T18:44:00.000-07:00

While we're on the topic of favorites of the year-so-far, let me throw out the self-titled album by the peculiar-named Akron/Family. They're not a family--rather, four guys--and they're not from Akron--instead, Brooklyn. (Okay, in fairness, they could be from Akron; their bio simply says they migrated to NYC from "rural America".) Their album blew me away on first listen, and continues to do so with repeated spins. It's layered in captivating sonic textures and diverse and often-times subtle, really a perfect summer record for fans of The Microphones, Iron & Wine, and Sufjan Stevens. The fact that they're labelmates to Devendra Banhart on Michael Gira's Young God Records comes as little surprise. Their folk manifesto endorses an organic, homespun music that seems to blossom in big, beautiful bouquets with but a drop of rain. Hear for yourself (in the sidebar to the right).

Oh, how I'm a sucker for the ballad of any and all varieties--traditional, power, period, "thin man", and acoustic. It gets no better than "I'll Be on the Water":

Thinking of you
there's lightning bolts in my chest.
I know you know
I think our love's the best.
If you have to stay
I'll be on the water
catching the next wave.
You can meet me where it breaks.

Couple the lyrics with the simple, walking folk guitar line (very John Fahey as simpleton) and the washed-out electronics, and you have the making of a woozy wonder of a love song.

But, if you like your folk of the Animal Collective variety, check out "Running, Returning", a stunning, percussive number with an interesting background vocal arrangement. Just when you think things can't get more out-of-this-world, we hit the mellow, acoustic bridge which is as gentle as a kitten awaking from a midday nap. Then, cue the Palace Music influence as we head into the homestretch.

Last, but not least, is "Afford". I really could have chose just about any song off this album to wrap up this post. But, I plucked "Afford" because it really plays up the quietness that Akron/Family are capable of. They're the only contemporaries of Sam Beam that I've found to be successful with music so still and vulnerable.

They'll be playing a string of dates along the eastern seaboard in mid-July. I've read that their live show is to die for. Read more about Akron/Family here. But not here.

Songs of The Year, So Far

2005-06-09T13:33:00.000-07:00

Though we're not even to the midway point of '05, my record-geekin' mind has already begun thinkin' 'bout best-of lists...though I know it's WAY too early for these things, I can't help myself...I have no self-control...

Anyway, I blame the following two songs:

The Raveonettes - "Ode to LA"
Feist - "Inside and Out"

I know that the Raveonettes track, at least, has been posted quite a few times on a number of mp3 blogs. So shoot me. This song rules the effin' planet! Without a doubt the drivin'-with-the-top-down song of the summer, this is one of those songs that you can sing along to the first time you hear it, and by the end of the first spin it's already an old friend. Much has been made of the fact that Ronnie Spector lends her mighty vocals to this number, and for good reason. She'll always be a goddess in my book, and her "whoa oh oh oh"'s will never grow old.

As for the Feist track, I picked up her much-ballyhooed record, Let it Die, not too long ago and promptly fell--HARD--for this song in particular. The rest of the album has some sparkling moments, but to my ears everything comes together right here. This song has an eighties AM radio feel to it and ultimately comes across like a Sade hit updated for the indie rock '00s...that's right--Sade--you heard me right. You'll know what I mean when you kick this tune over. Seriously, this has the sweetest chorus I've heard in quite some time. Can't get enough!

***THIS JUST IN***
Well don't I feel like an idiot. The Feist song is a cover of a goddamned Bee Gees tune! Obviously I need to fire my research staff and get a new fact-checker!!! =) Thanks to T-Bon for enlightening me. Looks like I got a Bee Gees record to pick up! Gulp...

Both the Raveonettes' and the Feist records receive my high recommendations, yet neither album as a whole can sustain the brilliance of these two standout tracks. That's why, even though these two songs may very well end up at the top of my '05 singles chart, their respective albums will chart well below that. As for full-length releases, I'm still hooked on the Black Mountain and Antony & the Johnsons records--those would probably be at the top of my list so far--with some serious competition from the new Springsteen and the new Spoon (another band I finally "get"...).

N/P Sandy Denny - Twentieth Century Masters

Mick Farren's Iggy Pop Impersonation

2005-06-07T06:18:00.000-07:00

Mick Farren - "Half Price Drinks"

By 1978, Mick Farren was looking for a different sort of thrill--possibly even turning a buck from this music thing. He'd spent a lotta time away from the stage in the '70s, working as an underground journalist. Vampires Stole My Lunch Money was his return to the recording studio after an eight year layoff. Coming off the success of Iggy Pop's one-two punch from 1977--Lust for Life and The Idiot--Farren's brooding guitars and guttermouth as heard on "Half Price Drinks" seem right at home with the times. This isn't to say that Farren didn't deserve to borrow from someone else for a change; afterall, his original group, The Deviants, more or less jumpstarted England's punk scene in the late-'60s with their brand of amateurish, haphazard, psychedelic blues.

If you're keeping notes at home, that's ex-Pink Fairies axeman Larry Wallis on guitar and Chrissie Hynde on background vocals during the bridge of "Half Price Drinks". As a whole, Vampires--which features some memorable cover art to say the least--is a bit varied, but remains a rock and roll record through and through. It bounces from the Chuck Berry-inspired "I Want a Drink" to the bizzare, Richard Hell-ish "Zombie Line" to the hard-nosed, harmonica-laden blues of "Let Me In, Damn You". For the fan of '70s blooze rock-cum-punk, this one is a must.

MP3s of the Week: More from the Aussies...

2005-06-05T15:09:00.000-07:00

Darknerd, my friend, you gots ta be lovin' this kick we're on here at getLevitation. Today's post marks the third in a row from Australian bands of one sort or another. First the fabulous Moles, next the almighty Saints, and now, a number of artists from a spectacular comp called Tales from the Australian Underground: Singles 1976-1989. This Aussie thang wasn't planned in any way, it just sorta happened, and you gotta love the synchronicity. Are there future posts in the works on Men at Work and Kylie Minogue? Uh, stay tuned...

So anyway, I drove down to Champaign again this morning for a Sunday powwow with the noiseboy. Tonight we'll catch a show by The Living Blue, just after we take in some T. Rex videos and the Russ Meyer flick Mudhoney, from which I assume the band took their name. Right now, he's in the other room recording some of my Deviants records while I post these mp3s of the week. And without further adeiux, here are some of my favorite songs from Disc One of one of my all-time favorite comps...we will most likely tackle Disc Two at some point in the future.

Download the songs from the sidebar-->

The Riptides - "Sunset Strip"
A wonderfully catchy song with the revved-up, garage-R&B-meets-pop-punk sound of Stiv Bators' solo stuff. These cats from Brisbane were huge admirers of The Saints, like just about everybody else at the time.

The Scientists - "Frantic Romantic"
The Kim Salmon-led Scientists are probably the fourth-biggest classic Australian punk band, after Radio Birdman, The Saints, and The Birthday Party. A classic in the land Down Under, the vocal harmonies evoke the poppier punk of The Undertones, with a healthy dose of a Johnny Thunders-gone-British for good measure.

Tactics - "Standing by the Window"
One of the noisier and more discordant of the bands featured, Tactics were heavily influenced by the off-kilter art-punk scene in Cleveland (i.e. Pere Ubu), and it shows. This reminds me of the singer from the Crucifucks fronting an early version of Polvo. Genius.

Fun Things - "When the Birdmen Fly"
An ode to who else but Radio Birdman, featuring a 19-year old Brad Shepherd, later to find fame with the Hoodoo Gurus. A light touch of piano in the background adds some melody to the punk crunch. Nice guitar solo.

Makers of the Dead Travel Fast - "Taels of the Saeghors"
A five-piece art collective with the coolest band name ever, Makers of the Dead Travel Fast put forth some truly bizarro shit, totally unlike anything else you've heard. It's like the soundtrack to a John Hughes film played in an aquarium. Oh, and the bubbles, the bubbles! And this song was actually a hit!

This excellent two-disc compilation can still be ordered from Forced Exposure.

N/P Entrance - Wandering Stranger

The Saints Come Marching Back

2005-06-03T08:01:00.000-07:00

The Saints - "(I'm) Stranded"

If you haven't yet met Australia's other punk rock princes--cousins in spirit to Radio Birdman--then it's time to get the introductions outta the way. The Saints were every bit as relevant as the more heralded Birdman, and their legacy was sealed in 2000 with the release of a two-CD compilation, Wild About You: 1976-1978 Complete Studio Recordings.

Boosted in confidence by the arrival of The Ramones debut record, which only solidified the group's opinion of itself, The Saints booked themselves studio time in June of 1976 and came out on the other side with the single, "(I'm) Stranded". By February of 1977, their debut full-length of the same name dropped and became a small international hit after receiving rave reviews in Melody Maker and Sniffin' Glue. The attention paved the way for the group to bolt for London that summer. Their timing was impecable, even though guitarist Edmund Kuepper didn't care much for being lumped in with Britain's "punk" rockers.

While The Saints never officially broke up, they did become a shell of their former self, all but abandoning their original sound as the band's core members moved on until all that was left was singer Chris Bailey. Fast forward 28 years and we find Bailey performing with a new group of musicians on WFMU's exceptional rock and roll variety show, The Cherry Blossom Clinic. The old tunes--like "(I'm) Stranded", "No Time", "Nights in Venice", and "Know Your Product"--still sound pretty fucking good. Click here, and scroll down to the bottom of the page to listen in.

Retune the Moles

2005-06-02T11:44:00.000-07:00

With Cardinal's lone self-titled 1994 record just recently reissued, and compatriot Eric Matthews having just released his first collection of new songs since 1997, now seems like a good time to revisit their work, alongside that of that other half of Cardinal, the Australian-born Richard Davies. I worked at a local record store for 2 1/2 years in the mid-nineties, so I was familiar with both of these gents, and actually owned the Cardinal record for a brief time, but never did delve into their work extensively, being too preoccupied with noisy indie rock of the Touch & Go/AmRep variety at the time.

It wasn't until last year, actually, that I finally got around to examining their respective non-Cardinal catalogs. I think I picked up Matthews' first solo record for a buck somewhere, and was a wee bit surprised at how good it sounded after all these years. My time in LA last spring then turned up a number of Davies' solo records for similar prices, and all of a sudden I had a collection going.

From there, it was time to check out Davies' previous band, The Moles. I managed to land a copy of Untune the Sky on ebay for, again, a ridiculously low price, and I was certainly not disappointed. Featuring material recorded between 1991 and 1992, these eighteen songs bounce around the guitar-based indie pop map, mixing up catchy melodies with occasional feedback and some noisy experimentation. Here's a couple of numbers from that record that I really dig.

The Moles - Bury Me Happy
The Moles - Wires

N/P Salamander - Bent Hemlock

MP3s of the Week: Spring Cleaning

2005-05-30T16:36:00.000-07:00

My Memorial Day took on a different meaning after I completed the cleaning of my spare closet, thus providing a walkway to get to my 7-inch collection. I haven't listened to my singles--let alone purchased one--in some time. A quick flip through them turned up some memorable slices of wax from my younger years. (Listen to these tunes by clicking on the appropriate title in the sidebar to the right.)

Man or Astro-Man? - "The Carbonated Comet": Taken from The Estrus (Records) Cocktail Companion, which was released in 1994. The comp is a triple 7-inch collection packaged in a fancy little box complete with a plastic stirring straw and a coaster. Also features songs from Jackie & the Cedrics, The Apemen, The Cowslingers, Southern Culture on the Skids and Teengenerate, among others. Oddly enough, I don't remember much about the only MOAM concert I witnessed, since I missed over half of their performance. I also don't own any of their other records, although listening to this tune makes me yearn to hear one.

The Sundowners - "The Summer Song": Nice cover, eh? On the back of the sleeve is a "key" of sorts to help you identify just who our male protagonist is having his way with. (In case you're wondering, the upper left would be Pat Benatar, while the lower right would be Valerie Bertinelli. You'll never guess who The Sundowners are. If you're thinking a Chicago country & western band from the '60s then you're dead wrong. Actually, it's Bill Callahan from Smog, along with some "Palace Folk". The exact members who recorded this particular single are probably never going to reveal themselves to us. However, Will Oldham and Callahan teamed up for the first Sundowners single, which I don't own. This was released in January of 1996 on Sea Note, a subsidiary of Drag City.

Beat Happening - "Sea Hunt": I love me some Beat Happening from time to time, don't you? Until the Crashing Through box set was released three years ago, this little nugget had gone sadly forgotten. Taken from the seven inch of the same name released in 1991 on K Records in conjunction with the British indie Bi-Joopiter. Indie music sure has come a long way since the early '90s, when tiny indie pop labels like Bi-Joopiter could exist in peace and release their Beat Happening singles. Anyone remember Harriet Records? Sigh...

M.O.T.O. - "It Tastes Just Like a Milkshake": A year ago I picked up the latest M.O.T.O. full length, Kill M.O.T.O., and was sadly underwhelmed. I guess I just miss the good old days for Paul Caporino, he the Master of the Obvious. Like, for example, this song released on the Jacuzzi for the Dead seven inch around 1994 on an obsure German label.

Los Marauders - "Slicker than Snot": Don't blink, or you'll miss this one-minute rockabilly barage from these rock stars from Mexico? Nah! Texas? Nope! Try Iowa (I think!). I don't really enjoy rockabilly, but this is more like thrashabilly. It's also the only tune from Los Marauders that I own compliments of the TeenBeat 100 compilation seven inch from 1993. Ten bands, ten songs, ten minutes total. Also features such throwbacks as Blast Off Country Style, Eggs, Bratmobile, Butch Willis, Unrest and Tsunami.

The Coctails - "Road Hog": I recently put a different Coctails songs from this seven inch--Songs for Children (1991, Hi-Ball Records)--on a mix for my friend Mary, who had just given birth to a bouncing baby boy. So, technically, I've listened to this recently. But, whatever. I'll never forget the first (and only) time I saw The Coctails on the side stage at Lollapalooza. Was the year 1995, maybe? I believe it was the same year I saw Brainiac AND Yo La Tengo on the side stage as well and got to talk to James McNew for a bit after Tengo's set. I miss 1995. What a good year for the side stage.

The Makers - "It's Your World": Now this little ferocious cut of garage punk is how I will choose to remember The Makers, who rocked my world a decade ago. Also on this single (Music to Suffer By; Estrus Records, 1995) they do a darling rendition of "Baby Let Me Take You Home", popularized by The Animals.

Have a good week everyone, and enjoy the tunes!

Anecdotes from the Skyway

2005-05-27T14:48:00.000-07:00

No time for mp3s right now, but I wanted to share this email taken from the latest edition of Skyway, the Replacements Internet Mailing List. Good ol' Bob Stinson, you just can't beat a Bob Stinson story. A true rock n' roll legend.

Date: Thu, 03 Feb 2005 12:02:58 -0500
From: Reigst@aol.com
Subject: Bob Stinson, Lyndale Legend

In the spring of 1986 Bob Stinson asked Reipo (John Reipas) and I (Ray Reigstad) to stand up for him at his wedding. He was marrying a girl from Long Beach, California whom he'd met through our roommate Tom 'TC' Cook. Up until then she (the bride to be) had been dating a guy name Earth (a.k.a. Mark Lauer) who was playing in a band with TC, Go Great Guns.

Anyhow, Bob fell in love with 'Bunny' (as he referred to her) and Bunny dumped Earth for Bob and the wedding was held at the Blaisdel Manor on 24th and Blaisdel in South Minneapolis. Reipo and I wore white retro tuxedo jackets we'd bought at Tatters on Lyndale, and black Southern ‘Colonel Sanders' ties. When everybody asked Bob who we were, he shrugged and unwaveringly answered; "They're fishing buddies from Florida." It was a freaky scene. The band he'd founded, The Replacements, were at the zenith of their popularity and about 400 people attended the ceremony. Standing up there under that stuffed elk head and looking out at the audience was farcical at best and hilarious at most. It felt and looked like a movie set. A comedy movie set. Lots of rockers (all dressed up) interspersed with family members, distant relatives, friends, fans and media people. I remember seeing Bob's brother Tommy in the front row wearing an all red outfit with white shoes, hair coifed up as always. He looked like one of The Romantics. About two seconds after the official "I do," Old Bobby Stinson, Paul Westerberg (singer for The Replacements) and I went into the men's room. (Name deleted) produced a packet and proceeded to draw out long rails of blow on the aluminum tray that ran the length of the mirror. This is the guy who once said on stage (pointing to Bob first) "He's got a drinking problem and I've got a big nose." Side note: Later that year, Prince released Sign of the Times and the title track's lyrics were published on the back of The City Pages. One of the verses went: "Back home there are seventeen year old boys and their idea of fun, is being in a gang called The Disciples, high on crack and totin' a machine gun." Over in a basement practice room, on Garfield Avenue South, I'd changed the words in a briefly lived derision to: "At home there are CC patrons and their idea of fun, is being in a band called The Mats, high on coke, and totin' a Gibson." I would sing it to Stinson when he'd come over to our duplex. He'd say, "That's," pause, "not entirely untrue."

Anyhow, back at the wedding of the century, Reipo and I briefly quibbled over who was to sign the marriage certificate as neither of us wanted the friggin' huge-ass responsibility. I ended up autographing it before going into the men's room. The photos that were taken that day out on the front steps are classic. As soon as they were processed they already looked about thirty years old, at least. Nine years after that wedding Bob died and many of the same guests showed up at his funeral. In January of 2000, Reipo, Mike Josephson and I finally got the Static Taxi CD "Stinson Blvd." mixed, mastered and pressed. I will now put the liner notes here and hopefully that will fill in some of the gaps. Anybody who has a copy of Stinson Blvd. might want to skip this part. June 1st, 1988, 1 a.m. We're sitting in my graffiti covered Monte Carlo at 24th and Blaisdel (coincidence?). We have two 1-gallon jugs of keg beer from a party sloshing around on the back floor of the vehicle. I just ran a red and the cops have us pulled over. Me, John, Bob, and Chris. The policeman comes back to my window to give me back my license. "You're living on borrowed time, get lost." He says, all cockey and flips the plastic card at me. We had just picked up Chris "The Cub" Corbett moments earlier at MCAD. John knew him from art school and told Bob and I that this kid could really play bass.

Anyhow, we went into the basement of Uptown Pizza and played all night. Bob, John, and I had been hanging around together since 1985, and had been jamming together since before his departure from The Replacements. Now we were four. Now, we were Static Taxi. The next few weeks were spent in the musician's greenroom in the Minneapolis Art Institute. When that free ride expired, we were forced to find a place of our own. John got a hold of a guy in the classifieds named Ed Larson. He was a Minneapolis old-timer, and he had an old warehouse/grain elevator over by the University of Minnesota, behind Williams Arena. We rented the office of the otherwise abandoned building. A rather spacious room that was carpeted and even had a bathroom. Along with the new rehearsal space came drinking buddies. Since the Scarehouse was located along the train tracks it had become a meeting place for transients, winos, Vietnam vets, drifters, dropouts and people with no other place to go. A loose community galvanized by cheap vodka and beer, camaraderie and a general appreciation for freedom. A forgotten demographic constituting "The Compound," Kerone was the one in charge with Charlie 'Hillbilly' Buchanon right by his side. The two head honchos were from Ireland and Corothers, Kentucky respectively. Honorable mentions: Brother John (WW II POW) Jim (a lost alcoholic kid about our age from California) Cherokee Lee (the part-time repo man, from Cupertino, CA) Michael Target (crack addict and petty thief) King Ed of the Tramps, Packrat, Leo... We became friends with these guys. They were at most of our rehearsals. Our audience.

After we‘d unloaded a hundred rounds of .25 caliber bullets into one of the clothes bails that didn't get sent to Africa, Ed's wife Lorraine, insisted on booting us out. So Larson put us in one of the five boxcars he had outside on a piece of track that had been cut off from the rest. He often bragged that the aluminum inside the refrigerator cars made him seven times the money he had spent on acquiring them. "The boxcar Kids!" He'd say, laughing. Throughout 1989, fueled by LSD and beer, we, as Bob put it 'Forged our sound' in that boxcar. "Art blues!" He added enthusiastically. Some rehearsals went into the next day. Chris and I were both driving cabs for a living, and many Blue & White drivers took breaks to have a cold one and listen to us practice. There would be taxis parked outside the huge, safe-like sliding door. And inside there was red carpet that had been thrown out from the Radisson, colored lights and friendly conversation between assorted displaced persons. And always, there was music; Kerone screaming, "Take a walk on the wild side!"

We battled two cold winters in the boxcar with four kerosene heaters. Got it up to about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. That was nice when it was -20 outside. Then in the summer of ‘90, in August, the warehouse burnt down, along with it went our power supply and Static Taxi's spirit. From that day on things unraveled. The party was over. We tried to hold the band together but nothing could stop the bleeding. We decided to fold in the summer of ‘91, Mike Laheka playing bass on the last few shows. As we watched our friend Bob kill himself we felt helpless and scared. We were always saying it would be a dream come true to kidnap Bob, bring him to an island to clean up, and then record the ultimate rock album. I guess this is as close as we'll get, 'living on borrowed time'. And that's pretty much the story of our band Static Taxi. The Boxcar Kids. On the side of our boxcar were the letters WWTX, painted in white on maroon. We always called it ‘World War Texas' .

Bob's old band, The Replacements, folded in 1991 as well. In July, at a gig in Chicago. Bob had been replaced with Slim Dunlap, who happens to be a real stand-up guy and The ‘Mats drummer (and Bob's friend had quit and been replaced by Steve Foley). Since then their music and myth has achieved legendary proportions, sort of like a flower that keeps blooming. People are always asking me to tell them stories about Bob. The funny thing is, when I met him-when my friends and I met him-we were not big ‘Mats fans. Reipo and I met Bob in the summer of 1985. Musically, we were more into local acts like The Suburbs and The Urban Guerrillas at the time. Of course, we had heard most of the albums that The Replacements had put out, but the band was not that huge back then.

The first time I laid eyes on Bob he was in Bunny's red pickup truck (he'd met her at our duplex one night at an after hours party and I was somewhere else). Anyhow, he was stretched out across the seat of Bunny's truck, in our driveway at 1202 West 28th Street. His face was gray. His face was actually fucking gray, like ashes. My first reaction was to call 911 if you want to know the truth. He looked awful; one of those three day benders of his. Later that week, Reipas, Mike Josephson, Bob, and I walked over to The Uptown Bar to get some beers. On the way there we cut through an alley behind Lagoon and Hennepin. Bob kicked in a garage window and yelled, "Run!" I guess that's a fair way to describe his nature. He seemed to live for those existentially out-of-place, self inflicted/induced moments. Always doing the wrong thing, on time.

I remember him telling Bunny this real sketchy story one time about his whereabouts. He had been on another binge and went missing for a few days. When he resurfaced, he claimed that he'd ridden up to Duluth with a guy who had a truck-load of explosives, and that he (Bob) had to ride along and talk to the driver to keep him from falling asleep, driving off the road, and consequently blowing everything up. The Replacements were recording their album Tim at the time for Reprise, a Warner Bros. subsidiary label, and Bob spent a good deal of the time at our house when he wasn't in the studio. One evening in July, Reipo and I were sitting at the kitchen table reading The City Pages when we saw an ad for a Replacements show at First Avenue, in downtown Minneapolis. It had started, or was supposed to about twenty minutes ago. We woke up Bob who was passed out on the couch and drove him downtown. The place was packed and the other guys were milling about onstage, probably wondering if their lead guitarist was going to not show up again or what. That was typical Stinson behavior. Not tell us about the concert and arrive late. It was a great rock show, one of the best I've ever seen. About as rock-n-roll as it gets.

Another time he urgently dragged us to the Uptown Bar, no explanation. Once inside he said that we had to meet a friend of his. We walk into the room where the stage is and there sitting at a booth is Weird Al Yankovic. Bob had had a beer with him earlier and I still cannot believe how fucking bizarre it was to be introduced to Weird Al by even Weirder Bob. Once in 1986, John did a cartoon drawing of Bob on the back of a long sleeved military shirt someone had given me. In the rendition, there was an eight ball and chain hanging from a shackle on his ankle. Looked exactly like him. It was in a basement room called 'Rhythms' at 3017 Garfield that Bob would come over and do Guess Who covers like "No Sugar Tonight" and "Hand Me Down World" and other oddball stuff like "Radar Love" when he was still a Replacement. I was singing and playing bass. Reipo was drumming on a chrome kit he bought at the pawnshop at Lake Street and Grand, and of course Bob was playing guitar and singing backup. "La la la la la la la la la la la la la" in a super-high voice. I believe the principal reasons Bob instantly took to us is because, one; we were not fans of his, did not want anything from him, and two; we all shared the same oddly defined yet sophisticated cavalier sense of humor, sort of a highly illuminated light-heartedness. Adroit, fast-paced but thought out humor was consequential to the old boy.

Standing at the little wooden podium, speaking at his funeral in 1995, I laughed and cried at the same time. As crazy as it sounds I always sort of thought of Bob Stinson as the older brother I never had. Some oddball connection I could never really define. Reipo and I called him Neil Winston. Sometimes it was Neil Lyndale. I'm not glamorizing him or anything, he could piss me off to no end sometimes. He didn't try to, but he didn't try not to either. It was just Neil Lyndale's brain. Complex to the point of simplicity, and back around. He always looked older than he was too. The doctor who did the autopsy on him said he had the body of a seventy-year-old man. Just like Charlie 'The Bird' Parker. They were both thirty-five years old at the time of death and they were both musical pioneers with their respective instruments. Guitar and Alto saxophone Puissant players. They both died broke and they both drank a lot of booze. They both liked heroin toward the end too. To Neil Lyndale, Static Taxi's boxcar must have been the ultimate hide out, as much as he loved trains and beer and rock and amplifiers. There were nights when I'd think to myself, "I can't fucking believe the wild sound in here." At times it was utterly inestimable. But of course it was totally sloppy sometimes, nowhere near alchemic.

Occasionally, we'd see Paul Westerberg staggering down Lyndale Avenue on our way to pick up Stinson for band rehearsal (we all knew how to play so it wasn't called ‘band practice'). "Saw Paul on the way here..." We would say to Bob in the backseat.

"Was he drunk?" Bob would in turn ask.

"Yeah, it looked like it, he looked pretty fucked up." And he'd just roar laughing.

Static Taxi's first official gig was July 25, 1988, at First Avenue in the main room. It was a twenty-minute cameo and they lowered the curtain back down when we started playing "Light My Fire"! November of 1999 saw the authorized bootleg release "Take City" by Mark Lindquist's Duluth punk label, Shaky Ray Records and we (John and I) put out "Stinson Blvd." in April of 2000. We had 1000 copies pressed. Then, in April of 2003, LA based Birdman Records released Static Taxi's 'Closer 2 Normal'. That's a whole other story. A lot of people try to sound like Bob but no one ever will. You have to realize how intensely complicated of a person he was to even begin to understand his playing. He was an eccentric, friendly, too-smart fruit in the truest form. At one point, I heard a writer sum up his style saying something like: Everything Stinson ever listened to as a child and in his early teens, all of his musical influences if you will, filter through that weird mind of his and come out as his own style/sound, the way he wants to hear it, or wanted to hear it the first time.

Back in the late 80's, Bob and I used to go into The Knut Koupe Guitar Shop, when it used to be on 28th and Hennepin in Uptown Minneapolis. First we would slam a few cans of cold beer down on the nearby railroad tracks in the afternoon sun. Usually PBR or Special Export. Anyhow, once inside the store he'd take down a Firebird or a new Les Paul (always something really nice and kind of expensive) casually plug into a Marshall amplifier and start tweaking knobs. If you ever saw Stinson play guitar, you know what I'm talking about. While jamming out "Mean Town Blues" by Johnny Winter (really fucking loud, mind you) he'd incessantly be twisting, turning, flipping switches, volume, bass, treble, mids, amp/guitar, one pick-up/two/pick-up/all pick-ups/one and three, tweaking and concentrating; yet appearing to be effortlessly running up and down the neck with his other hand. His face sort of gave the impression that he was after a particular tone and when he found it, it would be somewhat elusive. Almost like somebody trying to put their finger on something, some sound, that keeps moving and changing shapes and disguising itself as something else. But he kept ripping at the mask, sometimes just running his fingers affectionately over the contours and other times brutally abusing the instrument, trying to get to the fucking truth, if there was one. By now, a substantially large crown has gathered around us and people are turning to one another, "Hey, that's Bob from The Replacements, seriously!" or "Is that really him? No way, that guy looks like a bum! That ain't Stinson!" Lots of pimply-faced wannabes looking for a first amp or the usual Wedge crowd of local musicians, all pushing to get a closer look but simultaneously acting like they're too cool to care. The guys working at the counter let Bob Stinson blast the Marshall and pound on the guitar as long as he wanted to. It was always about ten or twenty minutes before he would unplug and carefully hang the guitar back up on the wall. If it was, say, $1,200.00 he'd turn to one of the employees and ask, "You don't think that's a little steep for that guitar?" or else he would say something like, "Those necks are made in Russia, did you know that? I'm not kidding. Those are Russian. You didn't know that did you?"

Then we'd go down to Lake of the Isles and sit on the train bridge, have a couple more beers, and look at the sunfish. Saturday July 9th, 1989: Las Vegas, Nevada. Static Taxi played last night at a club called T-Mex and we have another show tonight at a redneck bar named Doc & Eddy's. Bob and I are sitting around our motel room. Room 19. I'm asking Bob stupid questions. He's flipping through those free stripper newspapers. He really digs them. He collects them. He's got three it looks like, and he looks at them constantly. The only time he ever looks up is to the race on TV or when one of my questions is extra preposterous.

"Anything in them things?" I ask.

"All it is advertising, that's all it is." He informs me, eyes dead set on the paper.

"All ads?" I question, over from the second bed.

"Uh-hmm." Bob replies earnestly. He puts one down, picks up another, puts that down, picks up the first one again, puts down the first one just for a second, picks it up again, etc. Then sometimes he picks up the third one and appears to be making some kind of comparison with the first. "Do you think you're weird Bob?" I ask, laughing.

"Nuh-uh, but I don't think I'm normal either." He says innocently.

Talk atcha soon.

I've gone to heaven...

2005-05-23T19:20:00.000-07:00

...the simultaneous collision of a record fair, a BYOB concert and my good friend and fellow skullblogger Jon visiting will do that to me.

Jon and I hung out together for the first time in over two years this weekend. He's back in P-Town, Illinoise, and so he traveled down to Champaign after work on Friday night. I'm not going to recap the entire day we spent together--for obvious reasons--but I will say that the magical pull of the stars aligned in such a way that we had some memorable, music-related events worth discussing.

First of all, Friday night we headed to a BYOB, all-ages venue in downtown Champaign--just a ten-minute walk from my apartment--whose existence was news to me. It was an odd choice of venue, considering that the small warehouse is the home to a pottery business, Boneyard Pottery. The pottery barn turned out to be a good space for a show, though, and maybe the music aided in massaging some of the pottery into top-dollar form before it headed off to the kiln. At any rate, a pair of local bands opened the evening, and we made it in time to catch a full set from headliners the Tractor Kings, also a local product who has released a pair of solid albums under the Parasol Records umbrella.

The Tractor Kings have always been a country-folk tinged rock band, which for central Illinois is surprisingly a rare breed. They started out as a duo with heavily-affected twelve-string acoustic guitar and primal drums, then morphed into a full band with pedal steel before ending up where they're at now, as a more rocking country act in the Uncle Tupelo tradition with wonderful electric guitar leads provided by Steve Ucherek (frontman of The Living Blue). The one constant throughout this process has been singer-songwriter Jacob Fleischli, whose knack for sounding like the step-child of Bob Dylan and Jeff Tweedy makes for an interesting pairing with the wall of sound he achieves with his chorus-drenched twelve-string. They went through a set of ten or so songs--including my favorite country song of the new century, "Gone to Heaven"--while Jon and I finished off our brown bag PBR six pack.

~~Tractor Kings - "Gone to Heaven"~~

The night was still a young 12:30 by the time we made it back to my place. We had been out drinking for the previous six hours, however, so we were both feeling a bit under the influence. We threw on some records and chatted away for another couple hours before calling it a night around 2:30. We needed some sleep, after all, if we were going to be bright-eyed for the record sale tomorrow morning.

It just so happened that Jon arrived the same weekend as the annual WILL record sale. WILL is a university-run radio station which supports the local arts, and each year they have a sale of donated albums. How many they actually received is beyond me, but I would have to place the number at a couple hundred thousand, easy. Almost all are marked at a dollar, with a handful set aside in the "collector's corner" and priced, for the most part, over what they're actually worth. The show started at 8 a.m., but we didn't make it out there until almost 10 due to our hangovers.

I made quite a significant haul for $44. One of my biggest catches was a copy of Dino, Desi and Billy's 1965 debut on Reprise, I'm a Fool. The rock and roll trio featured three incredibly young-looking lads from L.A., essentially a call and response to the Monkees. They obtained a record contract on the strength-of-name of member Dino Martin, son of Dean Martin. None of the kids were even 15 years old when their debut dropped. The record was produced by Lee Hazlewood and scored the band a Top 20 hit with the title track and a Top 30 hit in "Not the Lovin' Kind". (I'd hope not at that age!) They recorded a few more records thereafter, but failed to achieve another sniff of success. Richie Unterberger sums the group up best: "Dino, Desi & Billy anticipated the bubblegum fad with records that usually featured none of their own contributions, except their characterless vocals. That may be phrasing matters too kindly." But anyway, they've gone down in history as sort of a cult curiosity, and I was psyched to pick up a copy of their record for just four bucks. Most of the record is comprised of fashionable covers of the day--including four Dylan tunes--but I've chosen a Lee Hazlewood-penned number to share with you.

~~Dino, Desi and Billy - "The Rebel Kind"~~

In the dollar bargain portion of my booty, I landed an incredibly warped copy of Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen's 1971 debut, Lost in the Ozone. These dudes from Ann Arbor were the oddballs of country rock in their time (in case you couldn't figure that out from the their chosen moniker). They scored a fluke Top 10 hit from their first record, "Hot Rod Lincoln", which doomed them to one-hit wonder status. Musically, they were a straight-forward country rock band, more a bar band than anything else. It was their subject matter which aligned them with the weirdo set. See songs from this record like "Beat Me Daddy, Eight to the Bar", "Lost in the Ozone", "Wine Do Yer Stuff", "Daddy's Gonna Treat You Right", and (a real shocker) "Family Bible". Gotta love a band of country misfits that included "West Virginia Creeper" on pedal steel and "Buffalo Bruce Barlow" on bass. Unfortunately, my copy is so warped that only about half the songs will play without skipping. Oh well, still a fun find for a dollar.

I also snagged a couple Chad & Jeremy records, a couple Kris Kristofferson records, no less than five Lynn Anderson records (she of "(I Never Promised You A) Rose Garden" fame), John Prine's 1971 self-titled album (on the recommendation of Jon), and a great find--Here Comes Bobby by late-'60s teen idol Bobby Sherman. That particular record featured a couple hits for Bobby, but the music isn't the reason that I picked it up. The artwork is simply brilliant, featuring a three-flap foldout which gives you a head to toe poster of Bobby. It's just too cheesy to pass up for a buck. (And, since there were two copies of the record on hand, I forced Jon to get the other as a memento of the record fair.)

I also scored some cool "motivational" records, which have always been of interest to me. Among the winners is the ten-inch Earl Nightengale Gives You "The Strangest Secret" (How to Enjoy Greater Happiness and Peace of Mind). The cover has seen better days, which isn't surprising since the record was released in the '50s. But, the record plays fine, and included in the sleeve was the original order form for additional records--including a self-addressed, postage-paid business reply envelope. How cool is that? Among many others, I also picked up Lessons in Ventriloquism by Edgar Bergen and The Lou Moses How to Sell Men's Wear Training Tool (produced by the Menswear Retailers of America). These will make great fodder for future mix tapes.

How to Sell Men's Wear sample

I really wanted to splurge and get a copy of Leona Anderson's Music to Suffer By, which years later inspired the cover art (actually an exact rip-off) for a Makers' seven-inch of the same name that I own. She was essentially William Hung before William Hung was born, i.e. "the world's worst singer". The LP was a steep $35 and well-worn, so I passed.

We spent the balance of the afternoon on Saturday listening to and swapping records. Overall, it was just good to be back in the same state with a like-minded friend. I'm sure there will be plenty more days like these in the future, and they'll go unwritten about as they become more commonplace. But for now...it's time to smell the roses.

--

Buy the the Tractor Kings' Gone to Heaven here.

MP3s of the Week: Shooby & Bingo Gazingo & The Space Lady

2005-05-23T06:36:00.000-07:00

Well alright ya'll, another week's gone by and it's my turn again to post the mp3s of the week. Due to the transitory nature of my current digs, this'll be another shortie, but I'm doing my best. My first week back in Illinois was a very good one...got to meet up with a number of old friends, including my podner in skullbloggery, the noiseboy, and his better half. We hit up one of those huge annual radio station record sales and each picked up a nice stack of random LPs for a buck a piece...plus I found an early Fairport Convention platter I didn't have and a nice copy of Young MC's Stone Cold Rhymin' on wax. Hearing that junior high fave for the first time in quite awhile brought back some memories, and I thought to myself: this is what's missing in a lot of contemporary hip hop these days...a sense of humor, an easy-going nature, the art of storytelling, the lack of fear at being labelled "soft." Props to you, Marvin Young.

But I digress.

Your mp3s of the week are brought to you from a compilation called Songs in the Key of Z: The Curious Universe of Outsider Music. Not everything on this collection of musical misfits is mere novelty...some of this stuff I truly love...

To the sidebar! For wonderful works of art by the one and only Shooby Taylor, Bingo Gazingo (with his special robot friend guest), and San Francisco's own Space Lady, with a bizarro cover of the Electric Prunes' gem "I Had Too Much to Dream Last Night"!!! Seriously, go read about these kooky cats!

Not sure if this is still in print or not, but you might try Aquarius....(by the way, these songs are from volume two of this series...haven't heard the first one yet. Have a great week kiddies!

N/P Feist - Let it Die

Guten Morgen, from the Radioactive World of Psychedelia

2005-05-19T10:06:00.000-07:00

Greetings everyone from my new digs in the Midwest! This'll hafta be a shortie, as I'm still getting settled in and I'm already on a deadline at my new job!! My new commute is rather lengthy, at least temporarily, but I've kept some good company in the form of the sole record from the sixties psych band Morgen. The 1969 album has been reissued twice in recent years, once by World Psychedelia and again by Radioactive Records. Both versions of this killer album are available from Forced Exposure, with the following different descriptions:

Radioactive:

"Singer/guitarist Steve Morgen and company originally hailed from Long Island, New York. Signed by ABC's short-lived Probe subsidiary, their 1969 debut Morgen teamed them with producer Murray Shiffrin. After this superb debut the entire band quite simply disappeared. If you're into heavy psych guitar, then this is for you. While Morgen had a competent, if limited voice, he was a truly amazing guitarist with the likes of Nick Saloman of Bevis Frond becoming a staunch advocate of Morgen's status as a 'psychedelic guitar hero'. Tracks such as 'Eternity In Between', 'Welcome To the Void', 'Of Dreams' and 'Beggin Your Pardon' (Miss Joan) were simply drenched with fuzz and feedback guitar. Underpinned by Maiman's powerhouse drumming (easily compared with Led Zeppelin's John Bonham) and suitably trippy lyrics and you're looking at a pseudo-classic slice of psychedelia."

World Psychedelia:

"ABC Record's valiant attempt at the 'hip/youth' market, Probe, released many memorable LPs by such groups as Saint Steven and The Litter along with debut offerings by Zephyr, Soft Machine and Rare Bird, but none generate the frenzy at this late date quite like the quartet led by guitarist/vocalist Steve Morgen, first unleashed in 1969. Even before dropping needle on groove, the stark black-and-white sleeve with inset Edvard Munch lithograph, in contrast to the multicoloured hues so prevalent then, makes an immediate statement. And then the music makes another immediate statement... A foreboding bass riff and staccato drumming introduce 'Welcome To The Void', and for the next thirty-eight minutes one is hurled headlong into a vortex of dual-guitar overload, lyrically woven with romantic and Victorian imagery residing on a tab of microdot. World Psychedelia has at last given this near-perfect album a proper presentation, reproducing the original insert with new transcriptions of the handwritten lyrics and, for the first time, including the rare 7" mono versions of 'She's The Nitetime' and 'Of Dreams'. Radio stations didn't bite on the single, Probe closed up shop, and the world became a decidedly sadder place."

Basically, the record rules. It's not yr typical tripped-out hippie-psych with loads of dated reverb and echo, nor is it garage rock in the Nuggets sense; rather, I hear a lot of Cream and Zeppelin, a little Hawkwind, a dash of the Doors, and even some Allmans in there. You'll probably hear something else. Whatever, enjoy!

~~Morgen - Welcome to the Void~~
~~Morgen - Eternity In Between~~

N/P Mercury Rev - Yerself is Steam

MP3s of the Week: Townes Van Zandt

2005-05-15T15:38:00.000-07:00

An amazing thing happened this week. I made a trip to the video store and actually remembered to rent a movie that was recommended to me. (That NEVER happens.) I was standing in front of the wall of music-related DVDs at That's Rentertainment, and lo and behold a light bulb flickered on above my head. A long time ago my friend Zac, knowing my love for Townes Van Zandt, recommended a documentary called Heartworn Highways. Sure enough, Rentertainment had it. So, I tacked it onto this weekend's viewing.

That's Townes on the cover with Uncle Seymour in the background.

Man, am I glad I did. Filmed in the mid-'70s by director James Szalapski, Heartworn Highways documents the burgeoning Americana movement that took country music by storm--okay, more like a light drizzle--in the 1970s. Thanks to the efforts of Merle Haggard, Gram Parsons and Willie Nelson, "outlaw" country artists all of 'em, the established music scenesters of Nashville at least temporarily entertained the notion of country music that wasn't based upon too-tall tales, glitzy costumes and cosmetic transformations. A good deal of this movement was sparked by songsmiths from Texas, specifically the city of Austin, which was home to the late Townes Van Zandt for a while.

The original movie--which was a bit of a cult film due partly to the fact that it was hard to find--is now available on DVD. It's hard not to find the documentary entertaining, as it has a down-home feel and is full of earnest dialogue and insightful cameos. The entertainers--from David Allan Coe and Charlie Daniels to Guy Clark, John Hiatt, and Van Zandt--are presented in a personal, behind-the-scenes fashion. Take a ride on Coe's tour bus, a greyhound with his name painted prominently along the side, or sit in on a recording session with Larry Jon Wilson or Barefoot Jerry. There's really no attempt on the director's behalf to provide the film with a wrote, narrative structure. Instead, he lets the performers' personalities speak for themselves, and simply cuts from one scene to the next. It's a bit hard to follow at times, as there are no text overlays to let you know who in the hell you're listening to. And, for the uninitiated, it's a bit puzzling to figure out that Guy Clark is the dude singing "That Old Time Feeling".

I could do without seeing the Charlie Daniels Band play a high school gymnasium. But, admittedly, they were a big part of the authentic roots movement in the '70s. As was David Allan Coe, aka the Rhinestone Cowboy. Watching Coe play the prison circuit a la Johnny Cash, induced a healthy does of pity. Coe's attempts to speak on the same level as the prison crowd went over like a sinking ship. JC did a much better job of relatin'. I suppose it's a bit difficult to appeal to the prison folk when you're wearing a tight black suit done up in Rhinestones, truly the definition of obnoxious and proof (as M pointed out) that bling wasn't invented by hip-hop. I would've suggested a white v-neck t-shirt--to show off Coe's tattoos--and a pair of Wrangler jeans. But, then again, I also would have recommended not performing a second time in the same prison that housed inmates who had once threatened your life. (A great anecdote, no doubt. Just watch the film.)

Mr. Van Zandt

When we first meet Townes, he's holding a BB gun, an open bottle of whiskey and a can of coke, with a cowboy hat on his head and a fleece-collared tan coat over his denim shirt. His sense of humor is evident as he takes us on a tour of his yard, which includes: a collection of loose dogs (that like to play fetch with rocks); an red Dodge truck from the '40s; and an old oak tree (complete with tree stand); his "champion buff chickens", Smith and Wesson; and the bunnies that he raises.

His old black neighbor, "Uncle Seymour Washington from Austin, Texas" stops by for a visit. Townes interviews "Unc" and we hear the story of "a walking blacksmith" born in 1896. Then, Seymour tells us his secret to putting on a horseshoe--in wonderful, descriptive language--and later his secret to life.

"Always keep doing something. If it ain't much, do a little," Seymour says. "Don't never forget to get down on your knees and pray to god and thank him for the time that he's given you on earth. And from there go on and talk to the lord just like you talk to us humans on earth. Live careful and eat three times a day. And eat common food--soul food--like beans, turnip greens, corn bread. Drink the best of bourbon whiskey. People condemn whiskey, but they have no right to. When god created the heaven and earth ... he also created barley, rye. And if he didn't think that was good for man, he wouldn't let those thing grow."

This particular tangent garners a healthy "AMEN!" from the small crowd in Townes' home.

The camera angle stays fixed on Townes and his neighbor as Townes breaks into a rendition of "Waiting Around to Die" (posted on the sidebar). Seymour is sitting there in his cowboy hat and jean jacket, legs crossed, hands clasped around his knees, as water begins to fill his lids. His lips pucker, he nods his head. Tears stream down his worn, hound dog face. As the camera tightens on Seymour, he wipes the tears from his eyes. To say the least, it's a powerful, unexpected moment which reminds of the cliche, "a picture is worth a thousand words".

The hour-and-a-half-long film itself is great, having been worked over thoroughly from the original 1975 version to make improvements to both the picture and the sound. But the bonus material is really where it's at. Who's that jamming at the table after a Christmas Eve dinner with Guy Clark, Richard Dobson, Rodney Crowell and Steve Young? Why, that's none other than a baby-faced Steve Earle. In the film we're treated to two songs from this eve, but the bonus material indulges us with six additional tunes, including Earle doing "Mercenary Song", which he wouldn't officially lay to tape until 1995.

Better yet is the bonus Townes footage. Not only are we treated to a version of "Poncho and Lefty" in his living room, but we also get more interview footage with the Texan. It's easy to see why the footage ended up on the cutting room floor; from a content standpoint, it was a bit out there for the times. Townes' friend, Rex, makes an impressionable appearance in the bonus footage. Rex is a bassist who has each of his fingernails painted different colors. According to Rex, he learned how to play bass as a youngster from a book that he picked up. The book recommended that he paint colored dots on his fingernails to remember which one was supposed to go where--and, it just stuck through the years. Rex has a half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a BB gun in the other. Throughout the interview with Townes, he's firing the gun in the background.

Townes is sitting on the front steps of his unflattering home, petting his eager dog, Geraldine, as he begins to share a couple of anecdotes.

"I had this interview in North Carolina," Townes says, "with this guy who went to high school and worked part time for the local radio station. He was real nervous and didn't know how to work his cassette (recorder) and was running out of tape. I told him, 'I tell you what. I'll tell you a question to ask me, and you ask me that question. And right before you ask I'll flip on the cassette, and then you ask the question and as soon as I'm through answering you flip it off and we'll save tape.' He says, 'Okay, that's a good idea.' So he had it all ready, and I said 'Ask me if I have any interest in botany.' He says, 'Botany?' and I said, 'Yeah, botany. Ready, go!'

"And he says, 'Mr. Van Zandt, are you interested in botany?' And I said, 'Nope' and he flipped it off. I said, 'Ask me if I'm interested in aviation. Go!' 'Are you interested in aviation Mr. Van Zandt?' 'Nah.' It went on like that until the Baptist preacher whose office that was--we were using it as a dressing room--came and made me clean up all the wine bottles."

Then, the mailman delivers a registered letter--Townes' royalty statement. He opens the letter and remarks, "I made 9 cents outta Austria" as everyone laughs. "Huh. Look, it says, total income and then it says overpayment."

His girlfriend, a cute blond country girl named Cindy, is obviously embarrassed. "Ya'll quit filming this shit, man," she says. "This is personal shit."

In a remark that encapsulates Townes' personality to T, he says with a smile on his face, "This is not personal," and winks at the camera.

The interview cuts forward and Rex is still shooting the BB gun with the sandwich in his other hand. (He's a slow eater.) Townes continues with another anecdote.

"I had OD'd sniffin' airplane glue. First thing I remember when I came to, the guy asked me if I was hooked on airplane glue and I said, 'No, I'm stuffed.' (laughs) I had three tubes of airplane glue wedged in my mouth, so I could sniff and sleep at the same time. Course, my mouth was all stuck shut from the airplane glue. He took a ball peen hammer and said 'this is gonna hurt'. And then they charged me for it."

TVZ--all smiles!

I could go on, but you get the point. It's amazing to see footage of Townes from this era, and even more impressive to see this man who has humbled thousands of songwriters with his talent turn out to be such a down-to-earth fella. (Of course, I wouldn't expect anything else from listening to his music.) So, in honor of TVZ, here's a few songs from his earlier albums. "Waiting Around to Die" was originally released on his 1968 debut record, For the Sake of the Song, but this version is a re-recorded take from his 1969 self-titled record. "Colorado Girl" is from that album, too, and was selected with a nod to my fellow blogger, Jon, who spent his weekend driving from Denver to Peoria, Illinois. I've also selected a pair of tracks from Townes' fifth and sixth records, both released in 1972. "Highway Kind" is from High, Low and In Between; "Poncho & Lefty" is taken from The Late Great Townes Van Zandt. Most don't recognize that it was Townes who penned "Poncho & Lefty", which as a song should be a prerequisite cover for any country & western star worth their weight in gold records.

Read more about TVZ here. Purchase Heartworn Highways here.

Take my advice, or else!

2005-05-12T19:50:00.000-07:00

While I continue to attempt to wrap my mind around the new Oneida album, I'll offer up a few words on Spoon's new one, Gimme Fiction, which is a pretty easy read in comparison. I should just tell you the simple truth--if you've liked Spoon's last two records, 2001's Girls Can Tell and 2002's Kill the Moonlight, then you're going to enjoy a majority of the new one, too. (Has it really been almost three years since Spoon's last record? Man, time flies when you're going bald, suffering from hipster burnout, and spending all your free time watching the TLC channel.)

But I want to challenge any newcomers to check these guys out. A couple years ago, I convinced my friends Ben and Jen--a married, church-going couple who wished they were the coolest kids on their block--to purchase Kill the Moonlight from their local Circuit City. (Jokes aside, there was no other place to purchase a Spoon album in Decatur, Illinois.) So, they took it home on my sterling recommendation. But they failed to fall head over heels for Britt Daniel's clever lyrics and soulful voice or the surefire aphrodisiac that is his backing rhythm section. Matter of fact, I don't think the CD saw much play at all. Too bad. It's two years later and they're now divorced. (I guess I should feel partially responsible for the split, as I did not lock them in their bedroom and blare that record at full volume. If Spoon can't get a pair of lovers to put aside their differences and fuck like bunnies, well, then the world is doomed.)

So, yeah, if you don't want to end up with your life in total shambles, feeling sexless and stabbed through the heart with two dogs and a worn-out couch to show for it, then you best give this record the time of day. Gimme Fiction isn't as strong as Kill the Moonlight or Girls Can Tell, but it's still a solid record. If I was in to rating albums, I'd probably give it a 7 out of 10. I'm not entirely ready to follow Daniel down a couple of his chosen paths, like the Gary Numan-cum-Ric Ocasek "Was It You?". Missing in action is anything resembling the absolutely perfect walk down Elvis Costello lane that was "Anything You Want", or the houserockin' rhythm & blues of "Something to Look Forward to". And, Gimme Fiction suffers a bit from being fairly mid-tempo throughout. But, Daniel's voice still looks better in tight jeans than anyone else's that I can think of off the top of my head. And Spoon still hasn't lost its ability to absolutely deliver that glowing emotional core that has warmed over their previous best efforts like a jean jacket on a cool autumn night. Some would call that "soul", and I see no reason to disagree. Listen up:

~~"I Summon You"~~ -- Simply brilliant. I could listen to Jim Eno's drumbeat all day long. It's really the bestest best buddy to the strum of the acoustic guitar. And, I love that subtle, swirling keyboard figure that creeps in and out of the song.

~~"Sister Jack"~~ -- The classic arena rock number that you've come to expect on your Spoon record. This one features chiming guitars, some lovely hand claps, and the most humorous lyric on the album: "I was in this drop D metal band we called Requiem."

~~"The Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine"~~ -- Aw, look at our Spoon. All grown up, using big words and a backing string arrangement. It's kinda catchy, too.

You can also peep "I Turn My Camera On" from the band's site or Merge Records. If you like what you hear, pick up the record from whatever record store you fancy--even Circuit City! Act fast and you can get the "bonus" EP, too, which features two songs that you won't find anywhere else and two demos that are already available for download at Spoon's home on the web.

Puttin' On The Works

2005-05-10T18:41:00.000-07:00

While it will be transparent to most of you folks lurking out there in the pseudo-anonymity and geo-placelessness of cyberspace, my upcoming move back to the cornfields of central Illinois is naturally quite significant to me, and not least because it places me firmly within driving distance of my fellow skullblogger, the noiseboy. Increased hangout time with that genius is likely to bring bigger and better and more collaborative posts in the future.

But, for awhile at least, my ability to post at length on a regular basis may be somewhat hampered. I'll do my best, but I'll be relying on the noiseboy to cover my ass during these transitory times.

But I digress. On to today's tunes!

About a month ago I ordered a copy of the self-titled debut album from The Works, a killer new Swedish band, solely because of their close ties to last year's breakout band Dungen. (Lead singer/guitarist Andreas Stellan played bass for them on their last trip to the States, and several Dungen members guest on the Works' debut). Click here for the noiseboy's extended take on the spectacular Dungen record, Ta Det Lugnt, circa September '04.

While I don't find The Works' album to be quite as unique and creative as the Dungen record, it is one hell of an epic ride through the byways of sixties psychedelia. More accessible than Dungen (and not just because the vocals are sung in English), The Works truly live up to their name, piling on every sound effect and psychedelic trick from their mystery bag of goodies, layer upon layer. If you're like me, you'll be hooked from the first track, "Everybody" (think Lennon and McCartney fronting the Electric Prunes, noodling the Peanuts theme, maybe?)...so have a listen, but keep in mind that this is an album best taken as a whole...

~~The Works -- Everybody~~
~~The Works -- Speak Your Mind~~

Out now on Subliminal Sounds...pick it up at Parasol or Forced Exposure, and visit The Works here.

N/P Bruce Springsteen - Devils & Dust

MP3s of the Week: Illinois lands a big fish

2005-05-08T16:00:00.000-07:00

The idea for this post originated when someone on a web board posted an mp3 from the forthcoming Sufjan Stevens album, Illinois. Stumbling upon the post came as a surprise, mostly because at the time I was celebrating some good news that related to Illinois. In case you haven't followed Mr. Stevens to date, he's a mellow folkster who is attempting to record an album on each of the 50 States, which is either brilliant or ridiculous, or possibly both. He began in 2003 with Greetings from Michigan: The Great Lakes State. After taking a detour in 2004 with Seven Swans, which bore no state-themed obligations, he's releasing Illinois in July. The record isn't really a grand statement about Illinois, per say. That would be a bit difficult for Stevens to deliver seeing as how he's never lived here. (He did live in Michigan, however.) Rather, it's a private collection of musical snapshots of the Land of Lincoln. So, we get a song about serial killer John Wayne Gacy, poet Carl Sandburg, and Chicago. But, Stevens also mines the state for more obscure nuggets, looking downstate for inspiration from the city of Decatur and the dinky, western town of Bushnell. (Methinks that Stevens' familiarity with Bushnell stems from the fact that the town hosts one of the world's largest Christian musical jamborees every summer, Cornerstone.)

As they say in these parts: Go Illini!

Anyway, you can listen to a few samples from the record by checking out the sidebar to the right. I've only heard six of the album's 22 songs, so I can't really say with any certainty whether it's a keeper or not. However, what I've heard so far seems to alternate between warm, joyous music full of a million voices and cold, stark pieces that speak more of moodiness. I picked the ones that I like the best, including the wonderful two-part "Come on! Feel the Illinoise!" (How could The Noiseboy NOT like that one?)

But, getting back to that good news that I was celebrating--central Illinois (of which I am a part), has a real reason to rejoice this week! It was confirmed (no more drug tests pending!) that Jon--whom you know as my fellow skullblogger, Anti-Rove--is moving back to his hometown of Morton, Illinois. He and his wife have decided to flee Denver, Colorado, for the midwest. Some of you may be scratching your head at such a decision. Leave a gorgeous, bustling, mountain city for the somber, blue collar boredom of a downstate Illinois town? But, family has a way of bringing some folks together, and that couldn't be truer for Jon and his bride. They're moving back to be nearer to those they hold dearer, and I think that's just fabulous.

The bonus to me is that my longtime friend will now be a brief 75-mile drive away. That means I get easy-access to a Library of Congress-sized record collection! (Okay, that's actually second on the list of reasons that I'm happy to once again be within his immediate proximity--but it's a close second.)

Downstate Illinois really can be a great place to live. It all depends on your expectations, to a degree, and how you approach your surroundings. There are plenty of things that I bemoan about living here on a regular basis: there's no place to buy a tasty deli sandwich OR Krispy Kreme donuts; exciting concerts are typically a two-hour drive away; soy bean fields are far more common than a state park in which to hike in; the concept of effective public transportation seems lost on smaller Midwestern cities; and there's no grocery store or newstand within walking distance of my downtown apartment. Living in a small city places an emphasis on becoming at least social acquaintances with the urban sprawl that is Super Walmart, Barnes & Noble and Old Navy. There are little, if any, homegrown alternatives.

Still, all that aside, if you're open to adapting, then there's also plenty of good things about living in a small Illinois city. A couple weekends out on the town will provide any friendly newbie with more than an ample opportunity to get to know everyone who's "in the know". Cans of Pabst cost one dollar, and a pint of Guinness can often be had for three. More importantly, you can get a 1300-square foot, two-bedroom apartment with hardwood floors, two porches, and a washer/dryer for $700 a month--heat included! Also, it's much fun to drive past those soy bean fields while cranking My Morning Jacket. Plus, those fields also house the most interesting of dilapidated barns (good for rural photo opps). And, something that I'm sure appeals to Jon, there's that whole big fish in a small pond thing: those who think big can often achieve. Competition in a town of 100,000 isn't what it is in the big cities.

I'm certain that Jon has plenty of grand ideas of his own, so here's to hoping that his move back to Illinois helps him realize a few of 'em. Cheers!

Recent Web Digs

2005-05-04T20:04:00.000-07:00

Check this shit out:

The slick new Mastodon video for "Blood and Thunder". Hells yes! More ass-kicking from one of the great metal bands of our time.
And don't miss the new piece of work from black metallers turned sculptors of sound, Ulver. This video, from the upcoming Blood Inside album, is genius.
WFMU's Beware of the Blog turns us on to the only known video footage of Leadbelly. It's like watching a ghost. Killer stuff.
Jukebox Graduate's recent write-up on the New York Dolls reunion show at Irving Plaza. It sure sounds like this is one of the rare reunions worth catching. Good to know, as I’ve read mixed reviews of the recent Gang of Four shows.
MASTERMIX.ORG: Rare Mixes, Mastermixes, Remixes, Bootlegs, and Pirate Radio from the Mid 80s. "What we're gonna do right here is go back. Way back. Back into time..." Thanks to The Cool Out for turning me on to this one. Too damn hype!
Unreleased tracks from the vaults of the mighty Stax.
Links to 622 music videos. There's a number of things here worth watching. Thanks to The Entroporium for the heads-up.
This blog. So is it called Cake and Polka Parade, or Sweaty Steaks Sat Yapping Between Her Folded Lips?! Either way, Chicago's very own Fatty Jub Jub With Cheap Chicken Bone Attached is always worth a read if you're into bizarre outsider-type shit. Thank you Fatty Jub Jub for recent posts on The House on the Rock, Lionel Richie's dick, Japanese vomit videos, and the link to this strange Flash video.
By the way, did you know that Joanna Newsom is the niece of San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom? Small world...
Last but certainly not least, check this site out for an edited version of N.W.A's classic Straight Outta Compton album. But this ain't your typical edit. This version has everything edited out EXCEPT for the profanity! Hilarious! Here, take a listen to Fuck Tha Police, the edited version.

N/P Cul de Sac/Damo Suzuki -- Abhayamudra

I'm ready for Spring to stick, but first...

2005-05-03T17:44:00.000-07:00

The weather in Illinois as of late has inspired me to return to one of my favorite pop songs of all time. It's been a tad chilly (for May), getting down to the freezing point in the wee hours and barely topping 50 in the day. As a result, The Choir's "It's Cold Outside" has been stuck on repeat in my head. I think it snuck in there one morning last week while I was in the shower, and it's just stuck around. I've nothing to complain about--it's hardly a song that could wear out its welcome. It's a catchy slice of melancholic Merseybeat penned by Dann Klawon about the loss of a loved one. Nothing unique by mid-'60s standards, except for the fact that the vocal hook is absolutely killer on both the chorus and the verse. The song was later paid tribute to by a post-Dead Boys Stiv Bators, who, like The Choir, called Cleveland his home. His version is worth tracking down, which of course means that the original is worth owning, too. And if you own the first Nuggets box, then you've already got The Choir's version. I took things a step further and picked up The Choir's career-spanning collection, Choir Practice (on Sundazed).

The group's history, which is recounted in detail in the album's liner notes, is of some relevance to more mainstream '70s rock and roll fans. To review, we've got to start in late 1963, when a collection of teens from the outermost Cleveland burbs began gobbling up Merseybeat records. There's nothing too radical about this concept considering that The Beatles were breaking in America at this time, making their famed Ed Sullivan appearance in February of 1964. But Choir-founder Dann Klawon wasn't your typical Beatlemania nerd. Klawon was a wanderer who spent his free time hitching around the country--shaggy hair and all--to catch the Stones in the Motor City and The Beatles at Shea Stadium.

Klawon had a bit of musical talent himself, being serviceable on guitar, bass, harmonica and drums. He formed Choir-precursor The Mods in '64 while still in high school. Surely one of about 100 such-titled groups in the mid-'60s, Klawon's The Mods featured a 15 year-old kid by the name of Wally Bryson on guitar, Klawon on drums, and guitarist/vocalist Dave Smalley. Eventually, they stole their first bassist, Dave Burke, from a local greaser band and added drummer Jim Bonfanti, moving Klawon to the role of songwriter/part-time drummer.

Fast forward a few months of playing Pretty Things covers on the local Cleveland circuit, and the band was drawing a crowd thanks to a few TV appearances and opening for the likes of Chubby Checker and The Outsiders. This was a tough band, with hair creeping to Byrds' length, and as such they became popular with Cleveland's blue-collar population. By the winter of '66, they were set to release their debut single, "It's Cold Outside," the song that ultimately made The Choir a one-hit wonder (at least in Cleveland). The record was released on Canadian American Records (what the fuck?), a NYC label, and later reissued nationally on Roulette Records. Legal complications arose--not surprisingly--due to their common band name, and so the band changed their name to The Choir. Despite the record becoming a hit in Cleveland and peaking at #68 on Billboard's single charts, no one in the band saw a dime from the sales of the record.

At this point, the group began touring Ohio as band members came and went on a frequent basis, which became a common theme for The Choir. Also about this time, the group began the hunt for a keyboardist. The first to try out was a big-talker named Eric Carmen. Carmen could sing for certain, but his attitude--not to mention the wig he was wearing--was a turn-off. The Choir opted for the veteran Kenny Margolis instead.

Fast forward again to the summer of '67 and "It's Cold Outside" has fallen off the local charts. But, with a new keyboardist in tow, The Choir open for The Who, Blues Magoos, and Herman's Hermits in Cleveland. Wally Bryson, at this point a senior in high school, takes over most of the songwriting chores, but after a series of songwriting flops leaves the band in early '68. Original founder Dann Klawon rejoins the band only to quit the following fall and then rejoin yet again in '69 (only to quit again before the year was up). Oh, and Dann's brother Randy also joined the band for awhile. Confused yet? During this ever-evolving time, the band donned Choir robes on stage for a brief while (as they appear on the cover of the CD) and performed Jimi Hendrix covers, too.

Basically, The Choir spent a good deal of time spinning their wheels...until they finally sputtered to their closure in 1970. About that same time, Choir drummer Jim Bonfanti and former guitarist Wally Bryson joined up with once-snubbed Eric Carmen to form a new band, The Raspberries. You may have heard of 'em. They went on to record a few hits in the '70s, and eventually added another Choir-founder, Dave Smalley, to the group.

Getting back to Choir Practice... As with just about any collection of songs from an obscure '60s garage group, it's a mixed bag. But, there's some notable songs here. "In Love's Shadow" pays homage to The Zombies, and shows the band progressing into a more fashionable sound hip to the radio dial. (They also cover The Zombies' "Leave Me Be" here, but that's ultimately forgettable.) "I'd Rather You Leave Me" is a Byrds' influenced Wally Bryson-penned tune that once again shows the band's gift for backing vocals. Maybe that's where they got the idea to call themselves The Choir? It's worth noting just how significant a role backing vocals played not only for The Choir, but also for smooth-talkers The Raspberries. Speaking of smooth talkers, check out the cheesy "Anyway I Can," an unissued (and I can see why) demo from 1969.

I can't very well recommend buying Choir Practice, as many of the 18 tracks are duplicate takes and throwaways of poor fidelity. But, I suppose that's to be expected when one attempts to compile a career-spanning retrospective of a band that released just a few singles over the course of five years.

--

~~"It's Cold Outside"~~ -- The song that won over Cleveland's heart in 1967.

~~"David Watts"~~ -- Straight-up cover of The Kinks' classic recorded in 1969 and never released.

~~"I'd Rather You Leave Me"~~ -- They had The Byrds' haircuts, so why not try some of their folk-rock jangle on for size as well?

~~"In Love's Shadow"~~ -- Moody and introspective like The Zombies, but with far less-compelling lead vocals. Call it Zombies Lite.

~~"Anyway I Can"~~ -- Uh, yuck. Time to call it quits in 1969.

~~"It's Cold Outside"~~ -- Stiv's 1979 version is inferior, but still enjoyable. You can find it on the Bomp! release L.A. L.A. by Bators, Stiv.

Purchase Choir Practice on CD or LP from Sundazed.

MP3s of the Week: The Purloined Pages of the Lead Balloon

2005-05-01T10:53:00.000-07:00

Love him or hate him, guitar virtuoso Jimmy Page is one hell of an enigma. While I'm no Zeppelin obsessive, I do own all of their records, and even if I don't bust them out all that often, I enjoy hearing them from time to time and I definitely respect the band's place in history. And then there were the Yardbirds, easily one of the sixties' five most important bands. Most people know of Page's ace session work prior to his joining the Yardbirds, but did you know that it is estimated that he appeared on a whopping sixty percent of all music recorded in England between 1963 and 1966?! That is an astonishing statistic. Not even Page's biggest detractors can deny his skills--when it came to wielding an axe, he was a genius, no question.

Jimmy Page, with the balls to match his phallic surrogate
Yet when it came to songwriting, Page's legacy, along with those of his Zeppelin brethren, takes a murky turn into musical shysterism. It is no secret that the majority of the band's catalog was lifted from the back pages of the blues, a fact that is certainly not unique to Led Zeppelin. The entire history of rock n' roll, and all art, really, is a succession of reshuffling and repackaging of previous influences, tweaked in one way or another to create something new. And there can be no doubt that Zeppelin's take on the likes of Willie Dixon and Muddy Waters was tweaked. Bombastically so.

Neither was the band the first to steal from the blues and not give credit where credit was due. Just dial up Chuck D and he could surely recite a litany of such offenses. What sets Zeppelin apart is not merely the lack of credit given to their sources (unless forced to by lawsuit--big ups to Willie D), but the volume and scope of their crimes, the brazenness with which they got away with it, and the massive success and riches they earned because of it.

For a fuller accounting of this saga, click here for Will Shade's article, "The Thieving Magpie: Jimmy Page's Dubious Recording Legacy." Shade traces the roots of this phenomenon back to the latter days of the Yardbirds, just after the young session man Page joined the band:

The Yardbirds, while one of the most innovative bands ever, had always been quick to acknowledge their stone cold blues roots. As an example, their stratospheric adaptation of "I'm a Man" was properly credited to Ellas McDaniel, a.k.a. Bo Diddley. The same holds true for a slew of other covers the Yardbirds performed, both on stage and in the studio.

With Jimmy Page's ascendancy as lead guitarist, things began to change. Their final LP, 1967's Little Games, contained a number of traditional songs that the Yardbirds' names appeared on. Consequently, royalties wouldn't go to the American blues artists responsible for the songs, but rather to the English musicians themselves. Whereas in the past cover songs like "Smokestack Lightning" acknowledged the legitimate authors, non-original songs were now ascribed to the band. This was a procedure that would be repeated throughout Jimmy Page's career.

The story of "Dazed and Confused" is perhaps the most fascinating example of Page's shady modus operandi. In 1967, the Yardbirds played a show with Jake Holmes, a little-known Greenwich Village folk singer. After being blown away by this song of his, they rewrote and incorporated an expanded version of it into their act for the last six months of their existence. When the Yardbirds dissolved in July 1968, Page carried the song with him to his next project. It would end up the centerpiece of Led Zeppelin's debut album as well as the band's live act for their duration. And the songwriting credits for "Dazed and Confused"? "By Jimmy Page", of course.

But surely Page's much-lauded incorporation of a violin bow into the song's guitar solo was a totally unique, genius move, right? Maybe so, until you discover that Eddie Phillips, lead guitarist of The Creation (one of the greatest unsung bands of the sixties) employed a violin bow on two 1966 singles, "Painter Man" and "Making Time." (Download "Making Time" from the sidebar.) And while it can't be proven that Page stole this idea from Phillips, given the man's knack for...recycling, so to speak, and his proximity to the same British studios, it's more than likely.

Click here for more details on the lineage of "Dazed and Confused". For more info on Jake Holmes, and to hear a sample of his version of "Dazed", click here. And for the best summation of all, check out the companion to Will Shade's Jimmy Page piece, "Dazed and Confused: The Incredibly Strange Saga of Jake Holmes", here.

(By the way, think you don't know Jake Holmes? You'd be wrong. After recording several records in the late sixties and early seventies, Holmes went on to work in the commercial industry and composed three of the most insufferably catchy jingles in the history of television: "Be All You Can Be" for the U.S. Army, "Raise Your Hand if You're Sure" for Sure deodorant, and "Be a Pepper" for Dr. Pepper. Life sure is funny like that.)

But back to Page and Zeppelin. It would require an encyclopedia to catalog all the bands and artists they ripped off through the course of their career. If you're interested, just do some googling. Take a listen to "You Need Lovin'" by The Small Faces (download from the sidebar) and then tell me with a straight face that "Whole Lotta Love" is properly credited to Page-Plant-Jones-Bonham on Led Zeppelin II. Here, Robert Plant takes the lead, pilfering every last scrap of Steve Marriott's wonderful vocal performance. Or, if you like your plagiarism a bit more subtle, take a listen to Eddie Cochran's classic rockabilly number, "Nervous Breakdown" with "Communication Breakdown" in mind, or rock out to Little Richard's "Keep A-Knockin'" and think: drum intro to "Rock n' Roll". Even rock's #1 anthem, "Stairway to Heaven", bears more than a slight resemblance in places to the Chocolate Watch Band's "And She's Lonely" and Spirit's "Taurus".

Again, this sort of stuff is not news to any student of rock history, but it is no less fascinating to compare these songs side-by-side and hear for yourself the extent of the thievery. And while it can be argued successfully that Zeppelin added more than enough to the songs they stole to deserve everything they achieved, it can just as easily put a bad taste in your mouth the next time you hear someone proclaim Led Zeppelin the greatest band of all time (as I overheard at a party just last night!).

N/P Led Zeppelin -- Physical Graffiti

No wow, indeed

2005-04-28T06:31:00.000-07:00

I had high hopes for The Kills new record, No Wow, released in March. I dug their 2003 debut, the gritty Keep on Your Mean Side. Their primal drums and snarly guitar packed a wallop that succeeded in modernizing the sleezy roots of Southern juke-joint blues. Like the Immortal Lee County Killers, except with a talented vocalist (two of 'em actually), The Kills had a knock-your-jaw-outta-socket swagger that was more than just token posturing. I mean, what is there not to like about a band that has the balls to cover Captain Beefheart's "Dropout Boogie" (on their debut EP no less).

When I heard the single, "Love Is a Deserter," from their new album, I was sold on first listen. Here was a song playing to their strengths, beefing up the bombastic guitar and pushing the tempestuous vocals--especially those of the sultry Alison Mosshart--more to the fore. And the coy guitar hook over the chorus is just a playful pat on the ass when no one else is looking. This duo is fucking with you just to show you they can. It's a great song, like P.J. Harvey's 4-Track Demos as remixed by Suicide.

But, the rest of No Wow is such a total letdown. Jamie Hince's Nic Zinner-ish guitar riffage often sounds tired. The not-so-subtle attempt at Velvet Underground simplicity on "I Hate the Way You Love, Part 2" sounds too much like flattery. Ditto that on the Suicide-like rumble of "The Good Ones". I miss the live drums of old; I could do without the drum machine, which sounds like it's actually the complacent percussive tracks of your mother's organ. A lot of the album just sounds like an unconvincing rehash of the sexy blues-rawk of vintage Harvey and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Somehow, the band managed to sound bigger on their sophomore album, yet less raw (and hence less dangerous). Chalk that up to the improved fidelity on this record, which is a double-edged sword.

There's plenty of sinister urban decay and restless emotion captured on No Wow, but unfortunately most of it just sounds like musical snapshots of the same old underpass graffiti that we've all walked past countless times.

For perspective, here's the Beefheart cover, a couple songs from their debut, and four songs from No Wow. (If you can't listen to these tunes with the volume cranked, then don't bother.)

From the Black Rooster EP:

~~"Dropout Boogie"~~ - Live take of the Safe As Milk standard. I love how the song is distilled down to the meaty guitar riff and the noisy open-mouthed high hat.

From Keep on Your Mean Side:

~~"Fried My Little Brains"~~ - The sort of a song I imagine pumping out of the 6x9s of a Cadillac convertible barreling through the New Mexico desert with a dead body in the trunk.

~~"Hitched"~~ - A filthy blues guitar riff that sounds like ZZ Top with slit wrists.

From No Wow:

~~"Love Is a Deserter"~~ - The single that hooked me on the new record.

~~"At the Back of the Shell"~~ - No Wow's second attempt at a saving grace. Nice staccato guitar riff and unusual percussive backing track (hand claps coupled with kick drum).

~~"The Good Ones"~~ - I suppose this would be the marketable single that gets played in the dressing room of every Gap in America.

~~"I Hate the Way You Love Me, Pt. 2"~~ - Somewhere Lou Reed is yawning. Been there, done that.

Purchase The Kills at any of the following retailers: Insound, Other Music, and Amazon.

Ask And Ye Shall Receive...Swedes, Please

2005-04-26T11:09:00.000-07:00

Hey kids--there's another new mp3 blog in town: swedesplease, dedicated entirely to Swedish artists and run by one Mr. Craig Bonnell, also of the much-lauded songs:illinois. How this man finds time to post on both sites every single day (!) is far beyond my comprehension, but my world is a better place for it. So kudos, Craig.

After reading his Sunday post, "I Know...I Know...Where's The Bear Quartet songs?!", I was inspired to share the wealth of perhaps Sweden's finest pop act, The Bear Quartet. Thanks largely to the efforts of Parasol Records, quite a few Swedish acts which would have previously been limited to regional Scandinavian acclaim have been making the scene in the States over the last few years. From The Soundtrack of Our Lives to Jens Lekman, these artists have become household names here (at least in my household).

Since their 1992 debut, the Bear Quartet has issued, by my count, some 13 albums and 16 EPs, a brilliant, eclectic body of work, constantly shape-shifting, yet grounded in pop ambition; a prolificacy of Pollard-esque proportions, yet markedly more consistently great. I have managed to pick up seven of their full-lengths and two other EPs along the way, so I have a pretty good feel for their catalog. Basically, it's all well worth owning, but it wasn't until 1997's Moby Dick that the band really came into its own.

Have a sample:

~~"Before the Trenches"~~ from 1997's Moby Dick

~~"Lights Out, Sound Off"~~ from 1998's Personality Crisis

~~"Old Friends"~~ from 2000's My War

~~"Fuck Your Slow Songs"~~ from 2001's Gay Icon

For more info (and mp3s), check out their main fansite here, or, if you are not privy to the intricacies of the Swedish language, you can read up on the band here. And you can pick up just about their entire catalog at Parasol, of course!

N/P The Modern Lovers - Precise Modern Lovers Order (Live in Berkeley and Boston)

MP3s of the Week: Coming in May...

2005-04-23T14:29:00.000-07:00

The month of May is bringing a slew of new releases of note: Smog, Spoon, Oneida, Caribou, The Coral, Mercury Rev, Stephen Malkmus, and Sleater-Kinney, to name a few.

Smog, er (Smog)

Smog (aka Bill Callahan) has always been a personal favorite of mine. Say what you will about his weird and wacky ways (folks love to refer to him as the yang to Chan Marshall's ying), but the man can carry a tune. I loved 2003's Supper to death, so I've been awaiting his newest offering, A River Ain't Too Much to Love, with anxious ears. It's due to drop on May 31, and the first of this week's offerings comes from this release. (No word on whether he has dropped the parantheticals from his name or not.)

Spoon

I can't get enough of the new Spoon song, "I Summon You," and luckily the local rock station has been spinning it. Gimme Fiction will be out on May 9; in the meantime, if you're one of the ten people left that hasn't sampled the demo version of the song available on Spoon's site, then here it 'tis. The actual version on the album features drums and bass, and is by far superior--but this'll give you the idea.

Animal Collective

Thanks to blog Cred Central for pointing out that the much-hyped collaboration between Animal Collective and Vashti Bunyan is coming out May 31. The four-track EP will be called Prospect Hummer. "It's You" is simply gorgeous in a way that Animal Collective is not on their own. Check it and others out at FatCat Records' official site.

Oneida

Finally, Oneida has a new album on Jagjaguwar that'll be out on May 3. The Wedding finds Oneida in rare form, as "Did I Die" will attest. Check it out. I'm sure that Jon will share his full thoughts with us once the album drops. By the way, if you've got a harpsichord or a clavinet to spare, Oneida would love to bum one off you forever.

(For MP3s, see the sidebar to the right.)

South of the border surprise

2005-04-22T18:00:00.000-07:00

Los Dug Dug's. Or, Dug Dug's for short. I didn't know anything about them, but thanks to Anopheles Records and their mail order, I do now. I purchased their first record solely for the name and the description provided by Karl Ikola on his inventory e-mail, which in short described the group's self-titled "monster fuzz" debut as "a must". I know, it's not much to go on, but I had a hunch. And I was right.

Los Dug Dug's was originally released in 1971, and served as the full-length debut for these psychedelic garage rockers from Mexico. For a more extensive history of the band, see this. But, long story shorter, the group began making a name for itself as teenagers playing the strip in Tijuana in 1966. They picked up a few gigs across the border in the States, and smuggled the sounds of American and British rock and roll back with them. The influence of outsider music went beyond simply chords and attitude--Los Dug Dug's also adopted the English language, becoming the first of their native brethren to sing in English. After gigging in Mexico City, the band--who was managed at the time by bandleader Armando Nava's father--was spotted and signed by RCA Mexico. Shortly thereafter, an American tourist heard them in Tijuana and offered to finance the band's attempt to break through in America's densely populated rock scene in the late-'60s. They flew to NYC, but ultimately failed to find success.

Back at home in Mexico, the group's music was received well and their fame began to rise as this album was released. Then, just as Dug Dug's had proven to be trendsetters in switching to English vocals, they sparked an interest among Mexican bands to return to their Spanish roots. By the group's second album, recorded in 1972, the band had shrunk from a quintet to a trio and had switched back to singing in Spanish in the process. They went on to record a total of four albums in the '70s. Today, they still retain some presence in Mexico as a "classic rock" band. Yet, in America, they're unknowns, apparently overlooked even by the reissue fools at Rhino.

Lyrically, there's not much to Los Dug Dug's, and I don't think that comes as a result of the translation. However, musically, these guys were on fire. On their debut, they switch between frenetic fretboard burners to airy pop to Latin-inspired funk with a sleight of hand that's rather remarkable. Try these on for size:

~~"Lost in My World"~~: A sexy, reverb-drenched garage rocker with cheesy effects-laden vocals and some memorable lead guitar.

~~"Eclipse"~~: This was a Latin-American hit, and it's easy to hear why. Hands down the best song on the album. A funky, fuzz-laden party tune that sounds like a long-lost cousin of Os Mutantes.

~~"Sometimes"~~: A mellow, trippy affair, with flute taking the lead.

~~"World of Love"~~: Another hit from the record. Flower Power dudes!

~~"Let's Make it Now"~~: Oh no! Drum solo! Who knew John Bonham was hiding out in Mexico? The band swipes the percussive guitar attack of the Easybeats ("Sorry") and picks up the pace.

Additional MP3s available here. Purchase Los Dug Dug's self-titled CD by e-mailing Anopheles here. The CD will run you $17, shipping included.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Mistranslations

2005-04-20T19:17:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago during a routine scan of the mp3 blogosphere, I came across the following photograph on a French blog and stopped dead in my metaphorical tracks.

Need I elaborate? Is anything in this ol' world creepier than these rosy, flesh-colored half-masks?

The band was called Lawrence Wasser. Never heard of 'em. A quick google offers little to the non-French-speaking, unless you're seeking out Lawrence Wasser, the American polygraph expert.

I decided to use a free, web-based French-to-English translation program, and that was how this:

Je suis d'accord avec marie pierre au sujet de lawrence wasser. Ca tue sa mère. Un peu comme si les 6 finger satellites ou Public Image Ltd s'étaient réincarnés avec les masques des béruriers noirs. Et hop .. ce soir je vais voir The Ex.

became this:

I agree with marries rock on the subject of lawrence wasser. Ca kills his mother. A little as if the 6 finger satellites or Public Picture Ltd had been reincarnated themselves with the masks of the black béruriers. And hop.. tonight I will see The Former one.

Are computer translations the shit, or what? I just love how Public Image Ltd becomes "Public Picture Ltd", even more how The Ex becomes "The Former one". Fantastic...

Amused, I pressed on. This page, google-translated into English, becomes this:

Primitive disco music by Lawrence Wasser

Since nearly one week, I emboucane all my entourage with LAWRENCE WASSER .

I rise Lawrence Wasser.
I fly Lawrence Wasser.
I takes the subway Lawrence Wasser.
I puts on tee-shirts Lawrence Wasser.

It is a trio based in Brussels which inserts with blow of low gross all the faded and hysterical young girls (with the idiot, therefore) of the électroclash.

I have finally make a Web page today with MP3 and all and all. My preferred: "Cream" (meta-boogy disco music with the exploded sound) and "The Cab" (for those which, like me, had evil to recover from the genius of the first EP 6 titles of Sonic Youth).

Blow one makes them play in Liege ( Rock'n'roll and love in Wallonia with the Counter), in Lille (via Steed), and a little everywhere in France for a price kiss.

Programmers of all the nations, hair short or long hair, you link!

Elsewhere, another gem:

It will not be a diesel engine which will begin the evening since MAXIMUM DJ CYCLOPS REVOLUTION will push our ears with end with a Rock'n'roll in evil of love... only Rock. LAWRENCE WASSER will foutra the souk with a gig primitive disco music/apocalyptic No wave. The evening will finish with one mix special of the MACAC SOUND SYSTEM which, when they do not carry masks of gorilla all bonnement alarming, can make dance the boys like the girls. To celebrate the exit of the new number of Minimum Rock' Roll (Disco music-Babel/Le Astral Beaver) devoted to the motors, dragsters and motorways of the hell, these Dj will powder their set with the most famous items of the rock'n'roll and the wheels (of "Fast Cars" of Buzzcocks with "I found the rare gasoline" of Gang of Four).

Just how, exactly, does one "foutra the souk" anyway?

Finally I found what appears to be their official bio page. I love how they give props to both Mark E. Smith and Donna Summer.

Oh yeah, the music. I wouldn't have bothered with this post if the music sucked. It doesn't. At all.

The whole dance-punk/death-disco thing could hardly be more played out, yet somehow these freaky French-speaking fuckers wormed their way into my heart and my mp3 player.

Listen for yerself.

~~Lawrence Wasser - "Cream"~~
~~Lawrence Wasser - "Ah"~~
~~Lawrence Wasser - "Piggy on a Rooftop"~~

More mp3s are available on their bio page. No idea where to buy their stuff, or if they even have releases available for sale.

N/P Fabienne Delsol -- No Time for Sorrows

Singles never steady

2005-04-18T22:03:00.000-07:00

The problem with singles bands from the '60s is that their sound often changed from single to single, depending on whatever the flavor of the month on the radio happened to be. Bands struggling to establish themselves were pressured by labels or producers to change their sound in a reactionary way. Without a comfort zone that enabled them to define their current sound--fleshing it out over the course of an entire LP--these groups often left behind one great single as their trademark, but little to back it up. Often, the b-sides were filler R&B covers, chosen from their live set list and thrown together at the last moment.

Mouse and the Traps

Mouse and the Traps is the perfect example. They displayed flashes of brilliance, but ultimately their catalog--a collection of singles--is so all-over-the-place that it's a bit befuddling when taken as a whole. We can thank the Nuggets and Pebbles compilations for shedding light on groups like Mouse and the Traps, whose "A Public Execution" and "Maid of Sugar, Maid of Spice" both appear on the first Nuggets box. But, unfortunately, such compilations do little to educate the listener on the rest of the group's catalog. In many instances, as the clerk at the record store told me when I picked up my copy of the Nuggets box some six years ago, the bands featured on these comps don't boast a catalog worth looking into. They are, by definition, "one-hit wonders."

However, Mouse and the Traps are the exception to that rule. Their collection, The Fraternity Years, is proof. Yes, technically, they were a one-hit wonder. However, unlike many of their one-hit wonder contemporaries, they should/coulda been more--if only this, that and the other had went their way. Despite the fact that The Fraternity Years finds the band's sound in constant transition, each stop along the way is well worth the visit. It compiles everything the band recorded over their first three years for the Cincinnati label, Fraternity.

The Texas quintet leaped from style to style quicker than listeners could spin the radio dial. They made their name with the 1966 single "A Public Execution," a dead-ringer for mid-'60s Dylan. But, stylistically, they were all over the sonic map, bouncing from dirty R&B to baroque pop to Merseybeat-inspired radio-rock to folk-rock. Amazingly, they were adept at each, which makes one ponder just what Mouse and company might have achieved if given a chance to build on their modest regional success in the South and Midwest. With a bit of breathing room and a few weeks in a recording studio, their popularity might have soared to the point where years later they would have been spared the Nuggets treatment altogether. Sadly, we'll never know.

The Fraternity Years is a fine document of a band living in limbo, complete with informative liner notes and 25 songs. Purchase it here or here.

Songs:

~~"A Public Execution"~~ -- Their first single from early '66. The organ/piano/guitar sounds are all typical of the times, but the chorus is pure Dylan counterfeit. Mouse does a pretty good facsimile on vocals, too.

~~"Maid of Sugar, Maid of Spice"~~ -- A nice, little garage rock rave-up that rivals 'bout anyone's best effort. Unfortunately, it flopped big-time as a follow-up single to "A Public Execution." Check out that guitar solo!

~~"Sometimes You Just Can't Win"~~ -- I told you they did baroque pop, too. This was later-period stuff for them, but was recorded just two years after they debuted. The group all thought that this would be their big breakthrough, but it failed, too, despite constant touring and TV performances on regional midwest shows. Sadly, the band's studio mate, a one-hit wonder by the name of John Fred, heard the tune and released his own version just prior to Mouse's take hit the shelves. Cut-throat, indeed.

~~"Like I Know You Do"~~ -- Getting back to the Byrds influence on this one. Mouse released this as a b-side, which shows in part how strong their material was, but also how poor their label's decision-making was regarding what tunes to push. The a-side was a novelty tune that the band would have preferred not to release.

~~"Lie, Beg, Borrow & Steal"~~ -- Again, this shows just how capable the Traps were as a backing band, here featuring Buggs Henderson on guitar and psychedelic banjo. Recorded in 1967, it's amazing that this tune hasn't garnered the band a bigger following among garage rock enthusiasts. In the liner notes, Mouse says that the group's recorded output wasn't always representative of their live show: "You would come to see us, and we would pin your ears back to the wall and be gettin' with it..." I gotta feeling that this was one of their favorites to play live.

~~"Cryin' Inside"~~ -- A completely infectious pop tune from 1967. How this song wasn't a fucking hit is beyond me.

N/P--Esquivel, Music from a Sparkling Planet

MP3s of the Week: (The) Mirrors and Velvet Elevator Worship

2005-04-18T08:02:00.000-07:00

We begin our journey with the most obvious of choices, the 13th Floor Elevators' "I've Got Levitation," which is not only the inspiration for the namesake of this here blog, but stands as one of the finest of classic late-sixties psychedelic treasures. This is the peak--it don't get better than this, folks. Scorching, pan-fried acid cut with electric jug, upchucked by Dick Dale's schizo stepson onto the garage floor of a Texas looney bin. From the Elevators' second record, Easter Everywhere, considered by many to be their best.

Next up are two bands which share nearly identical names, separated in time by almost three decades. Also from Texas, the Mirrors took up the mantle of the Elevators and other Lone State psychedelic heroes like Mayo Thompson and Sir Doug Sahm in the early '00s, greased up the aesthetic with the trashier side of punk rock and let loose. For a bunch of suburban kids still in their teens, they knew their shit and they did their best to live up to the lofty standards of the influences ripped into their sleeves. But it would all be mere hero worship if not for the fine songwriting of a young Greg Ashley, later a solo act and now of the Gris Gris--all of his work highly recommended. The Mirrors put out their only record, A Green Dream, in 2001; long out of print, it was resurrected by the Birdman label earlier this year. Download "My Lovely Lover" and "Ecstasy" from the sidebar.

Go back in time some twenty-eight years, take the Greyhound 1200 miles northeast to Cleveland, and you could be one of the lucky few to take in a gig by Mirrors (without the "The"). Having played the Cleveland area at least 14 times between '68 and '71, the Velvet Underground's influence can not be overstated on the scene here, from which would also sprout the Styrenes, the Electric Eels and the great Rocket From the Tombs, and later, the Dead Boys and Pere Ubu. Just as a young Jonathan Richman would funnel his Velvets worship into the (almost) equally influential Modern Lovers, so did Jamie Klimek channel his love into Mirrors, fusing hippie psych with Nuggets garage and avant-punk. Until the release of 2001's Hands in My Pockets, a compilation of their seventies recordings, the average joe punk couldn't even hear this stuff--thank you, Overground Records. Read more of Mirrors' story at AMG and download "Everything Near Me" and "Hands in My Pockets" from the sidebar.

Both The Mirrors' A Green Dream and Mirrors' Hands in My Pockets can be obtained at Midheaven.

N/P: Galaxie 500 -- Uncollected Galaxie 500

The Great Blog Merger of '05

2005-04-15T12:39:00.000-07:00

Greetings, and welcome to getLevitation, the latest and greatest of mp3 blogs, brought to you by the noiseboy and anti-rove, formerly of The Blank Generation and Unfinished Novellas, respectively. After some consideration, we two old friends decided it would make far more sense and a lot more fun if we were to join forces and combine our efforts. And thus, we give you...The Great Blog Merger of '05.

Our friendship goes way back, back to the days of baseball cards and hair metal. We've somehow managed not only to keep up our friendship, but to grow and expand it, even while living 1,000 miles apart. No small feat, that. Back in February, one post led to another and we each ended up writing odes of sorts to this unique friendship on our respective blogs. Click here for the noiseboy's "Thoughts on Bobby D and Jonny Too", and here for anti-rove's response, "The Ballad of the Noiseboy and Anti-Rove".

In so many ways, we're two of a kind, yet in so many other ways, we're as different as night and day. Perhaps it is this dichotomy that has sustained our friendship all these years. Regardless, we both hope that this chemistry shines through in this blog and that our musical tastes, again so similar yet so different, will complement each other and make the blog-reading experience that much better for our readers.

To give you some insight into just what kind of music we're into, look no further than the list of discarded names that we came up with while brainstorming for a blog title:

20th Century Boys; A Sonic Reduction; A Time of Our Own; Crazy Rhythms; Debris Slide; Dignified and Old; Dirth of Tilth; Dropout Boogie; Drunk at the Pulpit; Dum Dum Boys; Fairies With Booties; Good Moanin'; Hallogallo; Life's a Gas; Lucifer Shake; Maintaining My Cool; Manic Compression; Outside the Dream Syndicate; Perfect Prescription; Psychotic Reaction; Rebellious Jukebox; Red With Purple Flashes; Rock 'n' Roll Toilet; Shapes of Things; Some Weird Sin; Totally Wired; Wall of Sound; Yoo Doo Right.

The Fall. Can. T Rex. The Yardbirds. Phil Spector. Iggy Pop. The Count Five. Spacemen 3. Faust. Captain Beefheart. The Feelies. Pavement. The Modern Lovers. And those were just the bands whose song and album titles we thought about aping. That doesn't include the "original" names we came up with. (In case you're wondering, getLevitation was inspired by the 13th Floor Elevators...but more on that later.) Picking a name became a much more difficult process than either of us had envisioned, and nearly ended in a stalemate. But, if the two of us are anything, it's stubborn. So, we forged ahead until we found a name that we both felt was suitable.

That character trait--stubbornness--is probably one of our better suits. Or, at least, we hope to turn it into an advantage for our readers. Just as we sifted through our record collections in search of some inspiration for a title, we'll also wade through a good deal of shit in order to find some real musical gems. And, we promise to give you a listen once we've found them. We know that good rock'n'roll is hard to come by. Where once it was hanging out on street corners at intersections like 53rd and 3rd or Clark and Hilldale, nowadays it's hiding low in the tenements of the music industry. Oh, the industry and its press corps might send us an invite to a Bloc Party every other week, but that doesn't mean it's a shindig that we wanna be caught dead at.

So, allow us, if you will, to provide you with some guidance on your own musical quest. We'll be looking through rock's storied annals--and occasionally wandering down other paths, including folk, country, and rhythm & blues--in our quest for that ultimate musical drug to cure what ails ya. The elusive, perfect fix.

Thanks for bearing with us, and welcome to getLevitation.

--The Noiseboy & Anti-Rove