Free Records!

The P found these records leaning against a telephone pole today and hauled them home for me JUST IN CASE there was some incredibly rare treasure lurking in their midst (that’s called love). In spite of the fact that you often get what you pay for, I just can’t help myself when it comes to free records. That doesn’t mean that I don’t kick 85% of them back to the curb after I’ve siphoned off anything that might have the slightest chance of finding its way to my turntable. Most free records add up to little more than dead weight and a bad case of hives, but I’ll never be able to just walk by a stray pile of wax. Good thing I’m not a fish…

*****

A few highlights from today’s ‘haul’:

The Rolling Stones | Through The Past, Darkly (Big Hits Vol. 2)
Grateful Dead | Grateful Dead [the self-titled debut]
The Monkees | The Monkees Greatest Hits
Barry White | Stone Gon’ [great elaborate fold-out cover on this one]
The Who | Magic Bus/My Generation [deluxe two-album set!]
Steely Dan | Countdown To Ecstasy
Jimi Hendrix | Electric Ladyland [thrashed, but I'll try to find a home for it]
Cat Stevens | Numbers (A Pythagorean Fairy Tale) [we'll see about this one... although the title has pretty good comedy value]

*****

And a few that will be going back to the curb:

Carly Simon | Anticipation
Tchaikovsky | Best Of
Pavarotti | In Concert
Dolly Parton | All I Can Do
America | A Horse With No Name

*****

Total cost = $0

A Dozen Great Album Titles

Some album titles just roll off the tongue and sound like rock and roll. Here are a dozen that catch my ear…

Eddie Hazel | Game Dames & Guitar Thangs – The album title that inspired this post is part funky goodness and part gumshoe badass. Bonus points for not rhyming…

The Beatles | Revolver – A triple entendre (gun/record/revolutionary) that works on every level.

Jimi Hendrix | Electric Ladyland – Perhaps still the best two-word description of Jimi’s music.

Bob Dylan | Blood On The Tracks – The perfect title for an album of such emotional carnage.

Iggy & The Stooges | Raw Power – If only we could tap into Iggy Pop circa 1974 – the world’s energy crisis would be solved.

Stevie Wonder | Songs In The Key Of Life – Most music couldn’t possibly live up to a title like this, but these songs have exactly that kind of depth and feeling.

Funkadelic | America Eats Its Young - True, that.

The Rolling Stones | Sticky Fingers – Filthy good.

Traffic | The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys – I’m not sure what the hell it means, but it sounds great…

Pink Floyd | Piper At The Gates Of Dawn – Not my favorite Floyd album, but the title’s got all the mystery, madness, and mythology of their best music.

Frank Zappa | Sheik Yerbouti – Zappa was a master of album titles, and this was one of his most clever creations.

The Cramps | Bad Music For Bad People – Yep, it sure is…

*****

And a dozen more good ones…

Led Zeppelin | Houses Of The Holy
The Who | Quadrophenia
Neil Young | On The Beach
Bob Marley & The Wailers | Rastaman Vibration
Van Morrison | Astral Weeks
Nas | Illmatic
Joy Division | Unknown Pleasures
Tom Waits | Swordfishtrombones
Queens Of The Stone Age | Songs For The Deaf
Talking Heads | More Songs About Buildings And Food
Neutral Milk Hotel | In The Aeroplane Over The Sea
Spinal Tap | Smell The Glove

Buried Treasure: Mazurkas and Polonaises

[Today: Artur Rubinstein and Frederic Chopin throw a rave...]

To the modern ear, classical music sounds nothing like dance music, but that’s exactly what most of it was. The mazurka and polonaise, for instance, were Polish folk dances that were all the rage throughout Europe and the United States in the 19th century. Mazurkas are played in a lively triple meter, while polonaises are slower (3/4 time) – but both were composed for solo piano.

Irving Kolodin’s original 1956 liner notes describe the mazurka as “the loud thud of boots striking the ground, followed by their sibilant slide along the polished floor, then the swift springs and sudden bounds, the whirling gyrations and dizzy evolutions, the graceful genuflections and maddening movements.” And even if that sounds like a square description of the happenings inside the Fillmore West in 1968, it at least conveys the idea that people weren’t just sitting around watching the piano player through opera glasses – they were out there moving to this stuff.

Widely considered to be the greatest Polish composer, Frederic Chopin (1810-1849) made his mark within a number of musical forms, including waltzes and sonatas. Before he died from tuberculosis in Paris at age 39, he created the mazurkas and polonaises that practically define those terms. Virtuoso pianist Artur Rubinstein (1887-1982) is regarded as the foremost interpreter of Chopin and one of the finest practitioners of his instrument. Rubinstein was also Polish, and lost most of his family to Hitler’s invasion of that country during WWII. He never forgave or forgot it, refusing to play in Germany for the rest of his life.

But historical facts and whirling dervishes aside, what lands this album in our ‘house favorites’ section is the sound of Rubinstein’s fingers striking the keys. It’s possible to hear the music coming right from the end of his fingertips – the piano just a conduit for the music that lived inside of him. Like Jimi Hendrix, John Coltrane, John Lee Hooker, Nick Drake, Billie Holiday, and a few gifted others, Rubinstein felt the music, and his touch makes it come alive in a way that ensures its immortality.

The 12 Best New Artists Of This Decade

This topic was suggested by reader “kicknz” and I thought it was a great idea. Like Z, I find myself listening to the old-reliables more and more, while it gets harder with each passing year to suss out the great new bands from a sea of chaff. But I’ve been keeping one ear to the ground, one eye on the music mags, and I’m never afraid to ask friends and acquaintances about music – so I actually have an opinion on this…

The ground-rules were pretty simple: to qualify, the artist must have released their debut album after Jan 1, 2000 (I made one noted exception). There are plenty of artists who emerged during this decade, but didn’t technically debut, most notably My Morning Jacket, Queens Of The Stone Age, The Coup, The White Stripes, and Spoon. If your favorite new artist isn’t listed here, I urge you to consult a trusted record almanac for release dates before ripping me a new one.

The Strokes exist in a unique category. They just don’t really belong here, because it seems like their career arc has already played out. Nonetheless, their debut album Is This It appeared in 2001 and love ‘em or (more likely) hate ‘em, it stands as one of the best albums of the decade. It was tempting to include them here, but more fun to talk about why I didn’t. Alas…

Ditto Amy Winehouse, who has crammed 10 careers worth of disheveled photo opps, bad tattoos, drug busts, and bustiers into a scant couple of years. Back To Black is a brilliant album, and hopefully not the last we’ll hear from her, but I’d like to discuss artists whose careers are on an upswing. So Amy, please have a seat in the green room with The Strokes.

Here then, in no particular order, are a dozen of the best new artists since Y2K:

Josh Ritter (recommended album: Golden Age Of Radio)

Ritter technically shouldn’t be on this list – his debut appeared in 1999. But 2002′s Golden Age Of Radio just may be the best album of the entire decade, and yet he remains relatively unknown, earning a waiver into this discussion. His followups haven’t been quite as powerful as Golden Age, but there’s no denying that Ritter is a talented singer-songwriter with a bright future.

Listen: Me & Jiggs

LCD Soundsystem (recommended album: LCD Soundsystem)

Clever beats, sly humor, superb music. But like a dude moonwalking around the room in a disco suit, it’s hard to tell if LCD Soundstystem’s James Murphy is just wildly kitschy, out for some laughs, or completely on the level. I suspect it’s a bit of all three.

Listen: Losing My Edge

Lyrics Born (recommended album: Same !@#$, Different Day)

East Bay MC supreme Lyrics Born (aka Tim Shimura) has mad flow, can sing like a 70′s soul star, and has put together a great live band. A longtime part of the Blackalicious/Quannum posse, LB has made a number of high-profile guest appearances recently, suggesting his career is on the upswing. He’s also a gentleman: The P and I spotted him at an Oakland taqueria and he was as polite as could be.

Listen: Do That There (The Young Einstein Hoo-Hoo Mix)

M. Ward (recommended album: Transfiguration Of Vincent)

Matt Ward has only spent this decade making one great album after another, touring relentlessly solo and with a variety of musicians, and establishing himself as one of the great ones. A once-in-a-generation talent, Ward has the voice of a 65 year old blues singer, the guitar stylings of a John Fahey disciple, and the courage to take chances.

Listen: Helicopter

Bon Iver (recommended album: For Emma, Forever Ago)

Jeff Buckley proved that sometimes one album is all it takes to achieve greatness. It doesn’t happen often, but Bon Iver’s (aka Justin Vernon’s) debut found aching, haunting and beautiful new terrain to explore within song. Like the best albums, For Emma, Forever Ago is utterly original, yet suggests dozens of musical references. It’s a work of art that lives in a time and space of its own devising, and it marks Bon Iver as a major talent.

Listen: re: stacks

Kings Of Leon (recommended album: Youth & Young Manhood)

Kings Of Leon came roaring out of Tennessee with their 2003 debut Youth & Young Manhood. Reviving the best aspects of 70′s Southern Rock, this group makes Lynyrd Skynyrd-sized songs that feature plenty of guns, girls and good times. Their recent albums have become more experimental, but this is still the sound of a hot summer night down South.

Listen: Red Morning Light

The Black Keys (recommended album: Thickfreakness)

Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney have been so amazingly prolific and consistent that it’s hard to believe their debut album appeared in 2002. This year’s Attack & Release saw them move beyond raucous blues and develop a more layered sound without compromising their core principals. It’s an album that proves there is still some exciting unexplored territory left within the blues.

Listen: Thickfreakness

Iron & Wine (recommended album: The Shepherd’s Dog)

With his 2007 release The Shepherd’s Dog, Sam Beam (aka Iron & Wine) fully realized his potential as a songwriter and music-maker. I&W’s previous albums were incredibly spare – just Beam and guitar – but Shepherd’s Dog added a host of textures, instruments, and sounds to the mix. With baroque lyrics laid against shimmering electronica and acoustic guitars, it’s an album that’s both retro and futuristic – a modern masterpiece from a musician coming into his own.

Listen: Lovesong Of The Buzzard

TV On The Radio (recommended album: Return To Cookie Mountain)

Good luck figuring out who influenced these guys. TV On The Radio sound like they sprung fully formed from thin air, without hearing any modern music whatsoever. This formula is wildly imprecise, but TVOTR = (Prince + Doo Wop + Peter Gabriel + No New York) with a splash of Jamaican dub and Curtis Mayfield. It looks like a train-wreck on paper, but it’s actually powerful stuff. Bonus points for the fact that their major label debut (Cookie Mountain) is also their most challenging album…

Listen: Wolf Like Me

The National (recommended album: Boxer)

Because Matt Berninger’s deep vocals are full of resignation, this group has found itself repeatedly compared to Leonard Cohen, of all people. As Berninger explained to Chimpomatic.com in 2006, “A lot of the lyrics are little pieces of embarrassing inner dialogue with a mixture of awkward melodrama and overconfident swagger.” The group’s last two albums (2005′s Alligator and 2007′s Boxer) are a pair of gems that successfully strip-mined beauty from loneliness and despair.

Listen: Mistaken For Strangers

The Black Lips (recommended album: Good Bad Not Evil)

Atlanta’s Black Lips (not to be confused with Akron’s Black Keys) make glorious music that sounds like it was conceived in a garage in 1967. Most of their catalogue could easily be mistaken for songs that just missed making the cut for Lenny Kaye’s legendary Nuggets compilation. In other words, loud, raw, and fully addictive. Their album Los Valientes del Mundo Nuevo (reportedly recorded in Tijuana) just might be the best live release of the decade.

Listen: It Feels Alright

Cee-Lo Green (recommended album: Cee-Lo Green Is The Soul Machine) Danger Mouse (recommended album: The Grey Album)

It would be easy enough to whang Gnarls Barkley in here and call it good, but you deserve better. Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse may have become well-known under Gnarls, but their individual work is much more interesting. Cee-Lo Green Is The Soul Machine is the rarest kind of hip-hop classic – an album that sounds better as time passes. Meanwhile, Danger Mouse has been involved in many high-profile projects, including his landmark mashup The Grey Album, and production work for Gorillaz and The Black Keys. Regardless of the duration of Gnarls Barkley, Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse will be making good music for years to come.

Listen: Living Again [Cee-lo Green]

Listen II: My 1st Song [Danger Mouse]

*****

Honorable Mention…

Arctic Monkeys
Black Mountain
The Kleptones
Living Things
Girl Talk
Spank Rock
Mylo
Kanye West
The Arcade Fire
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

*****

Obvious Question #1: Who did I miss??

Obvious Question #2: Got any suggestions for future articles?

George Carlin: 1937-2008

Hats off to one funny motherfucker…

Buried Treasure: Dino Valente

[Today: A would-be Quicksilver founder goes solo...]

San Francisco in the 1960′s was a place of lightning change, youthful energy, and social revolution. The psychedelic lamps that burned so brightly here drew young people like an unending flock of naive, day-glo moths. Among their number was Dino Valente, who had been earning a rough living on the Greenwich Village folk circuit. Valente had a non-charting single under his belt, but he had charisma to spare, and was known as something of a fast-talker. For instance, the man born Chester Powers claimed to have grown up working in the circus with his family. Those claims remain suspect, but there is no question that Valente fit right into the circus-like atmosphere of the burgeoning psychedelic movement.

In 1964, on the eve of his first rehearsals with the musicians that would become Quicksilver Messenger Service, Valente was busted with marijuana and eventually ended up doing a 9-month stint in Folsom Prison. By the time he finally freed himself of legal entanglements, QMS had released a full-length album and developed a sound that didn’t suit his balladeering style.

So instead of re-joining Quicksilver, Valente went into the studio by himself and recorded a solo debut album. Featuring just the man and his guitar, Dino Valente is awash in reverb and cryptic hippy lyrics. Valente wasn’t the world’s most gifted singer (many have commented on his nasal whine) so producer Bob Johnston’s decision to wrap the vocals in studio effects was a brilliant move. This record sounds like a hazy LSD daydream – all disconnected phrases, strummed guitars, and swirling moods. The over-the-top echo and plaintive vocals of ‘Everything Is Gonna Be OK’ works as a blueprint for My Morning Jacket’s music, while the fever dream of ‘Me And My Uncle’ sounds nothing like the Grateful Dead’s more popular version of the song.

Legendary San Francisco disc jockey Tom Donohue, a friend of Valente’s, famously said of this album, ” If every chick Dino’s ever known buys the record, it will be number one.” Unfortunately, the groupies didn’t come through, and it sank without a trace. And although Valente finally did rejoin Quicksilver in 1970 for a couple of albums, he would not record any more solo material before his death in 1994.

Listen: Me And My Uncle

Listen: Everything Is Gonna Be OK

Masterpiece: Happy Trails

[Today: The sound of the late-60's psychedelic ballroom scene...]

Quicksilver Messenger Service was the last ‘San Francisco Sound’ band of the late 60′s to sign with a major label. It wasn’t because they were lacking offers, or holding out for more money or creative control, as many then assumed – they held out because they were waiting for their presumptive lead singer, Dino Valente, to get sprung from jail on drug charges. As Valente’s legal troubles drew on, the group finally decided to press forward and record their self-titled debut without him. They included his tune ‘Dino’s Song’ as a sign of solidarity, but as fate would have it, Valente wouldn’t actually join the band until its original lineup was a distant memory.

Their second album, Happy Trails, stands as one of the finest documents of the late-60′s psychedelic ballroom scene. Portions of the album were recorded live at Fillmore West in San Francisco, and Fillmore East in New York, and the music here provides a fair idea of what an evening out must have sounded like at that time. Side One is given over to an extended jam on Bo Diddley‘s classic ‘Who Do You Love’. Divided into six parts, the song stretches Diddley’s musical theme in a remarkable number of directions without ever feeling tired or repetitive.

Much of that is down to John Cipollina – one of the most distinctive (and under-appreciated) guitarists in the annals of rock. His ringing, soaring guitar tone is as recognizable (to those in the know) as Jimi Hendrix or Eddie Van Halen. But Cipollina’s brilliance here is of a piece with the rest of the group, and his flights of fancy are a natural extension of their musical explorations.

Happy Trails was the last album to feature all four original Quicksilver members. Rhythm guitarist Gary Duncan would leave the band shortly after the album was released in March of 1969, and with him went the magic that drove the group to the frantic heights captured here. As my Uncle Henry (a huge fan of the band since back in the day) told me recently “Duncan was more than a rhythm guitarist – he was like a second lead guitar in the group. They were never the same after he left.”

This is the sound of a band at the top if its game, and an album that vividly conjures a specific time and place. However, unlike much of the pointless psychedelic noodlings of that time, Happy Trails needs no pharmacological assistance to reveal its brilliance. But by all means, smoke ‘em if you got ‘em…

Listen: Who Do You Love – Part 1

Listen: When You Love

On The Fence: Slippery When Wet

Bon Jovi’s brand of pop-metal has proven to be surprisingly durable in the marketplace. This group seemed like the flavor of the week in the late 80′s, but they’ve gone on to enjoy a long and successful career. Their biggest album by far was 1986′s Slippery When Wet, which spawned two number one hits (‘You Give Love A Bad Name’ and ‘Livin’ On A Prayer’) and another that reached the top ten (‘Wanted Dead Or Alive’). With more than 9 million copies sold, this wasn’t just the biggest hit of Bon Jovi’s career, it was one of the best-selling albums of the 1980′s.

The question: is this a worthwhile blast from the past, or an annoying reminder of a forgettable, bygone era?

THUMBS UP: Slippery When Wet has one extremely powerful factor in its favor: nostalgia. I was a junior in high school when this album was released, and I spent countless hours driving around Springfield in my VW bug, exploring every dilapidated corner of town and dreaming of the time when I could leave the sawmills and taverns behind for a piece of the bigger world. Slippery When Wet was (along with AC/DC, Prince, INXS, and a few others) one of the soundtracks of those long drives. And even though the songs sound extremely corny today, I’m not embarrassed to say that I once did my daydreaming to this album. Corn like this was made for young, stupid dreamers – and all my hopes came true, so I’ve got reason to smile when I hear it…

THUMBS DOWN: Warm fuzzies can only take you so far before common sense kicks in. It’s easy enough to poke fun at the pretty-boy, MTV glam image of the group (Jon Bon Jovi sure could rock a scarf), but my beef with them is strictly musical. Bon Jovi was pioneering in the dubious field of power balladry, and for that they shall forever live on my shit list. One of metal’s endearing characteristics was its tougher-than-hell, take-no-prisoners swagger. But after Slippery When Wet, power ballads became ubiquitous radio fare, and 80′s metal would never regain its air of danger. I did a lot of dumb things during my teenage years that seemed really fun at the time. Listening to Bon Jovi was far from the most dangerous among them, but it certainly makes the list.

[If you have ears, and were past diapers by the onset of the Reagan Administration, chances are you have an opinion of Bon Jovi. So let's hear it...]

The P Speaks: What kind of music…

…is best for catching raccoons? 

It was hot in the Bay Area last night. We had all the doors open for a couple of hours and we knew there had been a raccoon visit to the cat food bowl around 10 pm – but we thought we’d scared them all back to the great outdoors.

Not.

The cats let us know about this oversight around 5 am, with a lot of warbling. The investigatory committee established that we had two raccoon cubs – maybe 8-10 weeks old – under the couch in the living room.

First report: Very cute. And very scared.

Second report: Well-armed with claws and teeth.

We opened all the doors and hoped they’d sneak out. 

Not.

We gently scared them toward the exits.

Nothing.

We left the room, to allow them to contemplate their next move.

They took this opportunity to scramble into the corner farthest from the open doors.

We took pictures.

They smirked for the camera.

We called our family wildlife expert in Rhode Island. 

The raccoons didn’t approve of – or fall for – her proposed solution. They napped in the corner as we contemplated our next move.

We thought about picking them up, wearing our falconing gloves. 

They snarled at the suggestion. 

We got busy with the longest handled brooms in the house. 

They split up. One went out the door.

There was premature celebration…

…while the other one snuck up the stairs to our bedroom.

There was extensive swearing amongst the committee. (Did I mention how extensive the swearing was?)

There was no swearing on the part of the raccoon. Just some grumbling.

More fun ensued, and ultimately we escorted the little man (or lady) back down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, down more stairs to the yard and hopefully the whole dang family has found each other and written a screenplay about their adventure. Meanwhile, we’ve been working on the soundtrack for their movie…

Twin Banjo Special

 

Buried Treasure: Human Remains

[Today: Terry Allen spins dark tales of the Southwest...]

Terry Allen is not your average cowboy. While his albums are generally classified as country music, the man himself is an accomplished painter, sculptor, and playwright who has netted a Guggenheim Fellowship and multiple grants from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Allen grew up in Lubbock, TX, and was high school classmates of Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, and Butch Hancock. Those three would go on to form The Flatlanders before becoming respected country singer-songwriters, but Allen would follow his own unique route to country cult-favorite status.

Indeed, while Allen’s songs chronicle the ups and downs of souls that are drifting through the Southwest, he often shows a painterly touch for the odd detail that makes a story compelling and brings a character to life. In ‘Peggy Legg’, Allen introduces the title character thusly “There’s a one-legged woman/On the dance floor/And that one leg’s so pretty/She don’t need no more.” In many ways his song writing style is more reminiscent of Tom Waits than Hank Williams.

“I don’t believe that there isn’t anybody that isn’t kind of an outcast” Allen told Perfect Sounds Forever in 1998. “We wear our masks and our costumes to pretend that we’re certain things but I think… all of us are pretty desperate in certain ways. I’d much rather write a song that addresses some of those kind of things than to write another Hallmark card.”

Despite a dearth of Hallmark moments, Human Remains sparkles from start to finish. With his casual wit and penetrating eye, Allen has created a vivid piece of art that deserves a place next to his paintings currently hanging in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, l’Espace Lyonnais d’Art Contemporain, and the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art.

The Renaissance isn’t dead, it’s just relocated to Lubbock.

Listen: Gone To Texas

Listen II: After The Fall