I was listening to American Routes on NPR last night while washing the dishes. Over the years, host Nick Spitzer has opened my ears to all kinds of American roots artists I’d previously found boring. Not everything he plays works for me (I still can’t stand most of that accordion-driven music from Louisiana), but as great DJs can do, there’s something about the way he sets up and frames the music he plays each week that often works wonders.
While I was scrubbing a roasting pan last night, Spitzer introduced Robert Johnson‘s original recording of “Crossroads.” Because there’s so little blues music I’ve liked over the years and because I’ve never previously found anything that interesting about Johnson, the most legendary bluesman ever and probably an inspiration for not only the movie Crossroads but my favorite blues-based movie, Black Snake Moan, I put down the scrubber and let the pan soak a few minutes longer, so I could pay full attention to what Spitzer announced was probably Johnson’s most influential recording.
“I couldn’t believe it,” recounted popular Rock Town Hall moderator Mr. Moderator to an anonymous RTH Labs Hotline operator, “I was painting our upstairs bathroom while playing the ‘Elvis Costello’ channel on Pandora when a jangly song came on that sounded like something The Smiths might do…but it wasn’t the slightest bit annoying!” Mr. Moderator quickly placed the paint roller back in the tray, washed his hands, and ran to his bedroom stereo to see what was playing. Sure enough it was The Smiths’ “Is It Really So Strange?”, a song he couldn’t place ever having heard before, not even in women’s dorm rooms from his college days.
[audio:https://www.rocktownhall.com/blogs/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/The-Smiths_01_Is-it-Really-So-Strange-John-Peel-session-12-2-86.mp3|titles=The Smiths, “Is it Really So Strange”]
Mr. Moderator stood before the speakers and used all of his immense powers of concentration and critical thinking to see if he could determine that the song, like all previous Smiths songs he’d heard before, did in deed suck thanks to Morrissey’s whiny vocals and ill-defined melodies. But the song in no way sucked. He couldn’t even demean the song as “wimpy.” That’s when he called the RTH Labs Hotline.
“I’d tried liking The Smiths—even the slightest bit—over the years,” Mr. Mod explained, “but I was always put off by Morrissey’s aimless vocals and resentful of the mystifying ‘guitar god’ status granted to Johnny Marr.” He continues, “One week I even immersed myself in solo Morrissey records and found I liked them better than the stuff he did with The Smiths.” He then tried listening to The Smiths again but still couldn’t understand what people heard in those records. “The solo Morrissey stuff wasn’t too bad, though. Maybe it was the influence of Mick Ronson that gave him some focus,” he muses. “This Smith song, however, is as solid as the best of those solo records. Morrissey within the song’s rhythm, and I even like Marr’s guitar playing!”
RTH Labs is currently investigating why this particular Smiths song is so much better than anything else the Moderator has ever heard by the band. Your input will be added to the investigation.
Happiness Stan, I’m counting on you and your eccentric countrymen to explain the origin of this video. Is this part of a larger promotional film covering the entire Boulders album, by any chance? Please tell me it is. Thank you.
I tend to do most of my music listening while driving to and from work. This nice half hour drive gives me a chance to get through most of an album or a collection of singles. Today, I was listening to a mix of recent music that Mr. Royale had compiled for me, and it included a song from St. Vincent‘s most recent album, Strange Mercy. The song is “Surgeon” and features David Cronenberg/JG Ballard-like lyrics, some Yes-style guitar work, and a grand Prince finale. Despite this odd assortment of styles, I sort of like this song. On my second listen this evening, it dawned on me: Annie Clark is today’s Kate Bush. Both reveal a great deal of emotionality through somewhat breathy singing, and their music is lushly produced.
So tonight, I looked up a video for the song:
Now I’m confused. First I had to suspend the image of doe-eyed, guitar-strumming folk singer whom I saw open for Stephen Malkmus a few years ago. Then came her next album, Actor, which included a couple of good songs but was ultimately too complicated for me to really embrace. And now in this video, young Annie appears to be getting in touch with her inner and outer PJ Harvey.
I don’t have a firm grasp on St. Vincent. Rewind even further and there she is in the identical choir robe worn by all the members of The Polyphonic Spree. Is she now making up for lost (wardrobe and makeup) time by adopting a series of Bowie-like personae? What’s your take on St. Vincent?
On January 17, 1971. Robert James Ritchie was dragged from his mother’s womb kicking and screaming into this world. Little did he loving parents know that this was the same technique their son would employ to forge a career in music for himself. The self styled “rock-rapper” would not achieve his desire until the release of the 1998 album Devil Without a Cause, released by Atlantic Records, which sold a whopping 11 million albums, apparently. It was followed by a slightly less successful album: History of Rock, in 2000, which featured the hit single “American Badass.”
Now let me make one thing perfectly clear. I am no fan of raining on the parade of a dude or dudette that is making a living out of “Living The Dream”; good luck to them. And even if I had the means to go back in time and undo such atrocities I don’t think I would because at the end of the day it’s only rock ’n roll, and I like it. But there is a but.
The unholy fusion of “Cock-Rock” with “Gangsta-Rap” produces a sound that I can only be likened to listening to a migraine headache. I only say this because I am convinced that Kid Rock takes himself seriously, which on the face of it seems impossible, but nevertheless I fear it to be true. The worst crime that Kid Rock is guilty of is the crime of fraud: he is a teeny-bopper in rocker’s clothing no matter how good his credentials are and no matter how many truly hard rockin’ amigos he has. So here’s my question: Why do people like “The Kid” exist? Are they genuine musicians trying to carve their way in the world or are they walkin’ the walk and talkin’ the talk to bag the cash? Whatever the popular vote favors I accept, but with no prejudice at all. Guy’s like Kid Rock leave a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe I need to be educated in this musical area.
So I say that Kid Rock is guilty of “sucking up to the man.”
Among our regulars, I’m calling on Happiness Stan to help explain England’s late-1960s skinhead movement. If there are other Townspeople out there who have something to add that I haven’t already learned from that beacon of accurate and original reporting, Wikipedia, please chime in.
How did a rock subculture rooted in an appreciation of Jamaican and African-American music become associated with right-wing politics? Did anyone who lived through this era note a shift in how skinheads were perceived within the rock community? I’ve read that the skinheads were an outgrowth of the mods. How did that shift take place?Continue reading »
I’ve scheduled a trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame in February. I can’t wait to get there. I was there once when I was about 12. I don’t remember much about the place, but I remember loving it. You may recall, I love baseball as much as I love music.
As much as I love music I have only mild interest in one day visiting the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame. Each year the list of inductees gets more ridiculous. I no longer pay much attention or spend much time complaining about who gets in, but today I noticed that Laura Nyro is being inducted. I love the song she did with LeBelle, “The Bells.” Love it! It’s sad and beautiful, like my memory of seeing Braves pinch-hitter Mike Lum put an end ot Steve Carlton‘s 15-game winning streak in his magical 1972 debut season with the Phillies. Lum broke up an 11-inning tie game with a flare to right. I was seated along the first base line with my uncle, the same one who turned me onto rock ‘n roll. In ’72 he began taking me to Phillies games. When Carlton got on that roll, my lefthanded uncle knew it was special. He took me, his lefthanded nephew, to as many home games during that streak as possible. He always got us tickets along the first-base line, to better view the motion and wicked pickoff move of the sad-sack 1972 Phillies’ one shining beacon of hope.
I also love the big hit song she wrote for the Fifth Dimension, “Wedding Bell Blues.” Love that Fifth Dimension version! It’s sad and beautiful, which judging by photos and her music the late Laura Nyro seemed to be herself. Have you ever heard Nyro’s version of that song? It’s nowhere near as good. She also wrote “Stoned Soul Picnic.” Her version of that song is fine, although not quite as good as the Fifth Dimension’s. I won’t hold her writing of “And When I Die” against her. Her version is as bad as the hit version by Blood, Sweat & Tears. The entire conceipt of that song is bad to the bone. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
What the hell else did Laura Nyro do of note, of Hall of Fame note? She wrote “Eli’s Coming,” a hit for Three Dog Night that was unintentionally funny enough to avoid being as bad as “And When I Die.” I see references to her having written hits for Barbra Streisand. Am I forgetting some especially smokin’ Streisand tracks?
Please explain Laura Nyro’s induction in the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame. And please see if you can do so while avoiding beefs about the induction of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Beaver Brown Band, or whatever other dopes qualify these days. I know Nyro’s always been a critics’ darling for a certain generation, but who will understand her induction when the current crop of 70-year-0ld rock critics finally dies off? Shouldn’t future generations have some way of understanding her induction?
