Op-ed: Flossing Is Fun

Of all the dumb New Year’s resolutions I’ve made in my life, one finally stuck: I’ve started flossing regularly. I don’t take a lot of pride or pleasure out of the act of flossing, but once I got a foothold on the gunk camped out between my teeth, it became impossible to go back. Like chiropractic treatments, mafia work and smoking crack, regular flossing is something that you don’t just “give up.” I’m suddenly acutely aware of every particle of food caked in my chompers, and while my dentist and wife will probably be delighted about this development, I can’t help but feel a bit neurotic about the whole thing.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go run a string through my teeth…

Listen: Mr. Tooth Decay [from the When We Were Kings soundtrack]

Doubleshot Tuesday: Fun House/1999

[Today: Music to flip your calendar by...]

New Year’s Eve is one of those nights when anything upbeat on the jukebox sounds great. That may be down to the festive occasion, or the fact that everyone around has plenty of booze and/or good cheer in their systems, but anecdotal evidence suggests it’s true. On Fun House, Iggy Pop certainly sounds like he’s on the prowl with a drink in his hand. He yelps and yips, growls and snarls while the band lays down one dirty, funky groove after another. “Down on the street where the faces shine/Floatin’ around I’m a real low mind” goes one couplet from ‘Down On The Street’, an epic ode to overindulgence. This album might be about a party at the edge of the world, or it might take place in a loony bin, but December 31st is one of those nights when such minor distinctions blur anyway.

1999 is the record that made Prince a star, and it plays out like a loose concept album about the world’s greatest bash. The title track is an infectious party manifesto: “I was dreamin’ when I wrote this, so sue me if I go 2 fast/But life is just a party and parties weren’t meant 2 last.” But no party with the artist formerly known as The Artist Formerly Known As would be complete without some nookie, and Prince delivers the goodies repeatedly throughout the album. With ‘DMSR’ (Dance, Music, Sex, Romance), ‘Let’s Pretend We’re Married’ ‘Little Red Corvette’ and more, this an album that sizzles and grinds like aural Spanish Fly. And in spite of thick synthesizer lines and that dated title, this still makes the perfect soundtrack for your next year end blowout.

Listen: Down On The Street [The Stooges]

Listen: D.M.S.R. [Prince]

Masterpiece: Siamese Dream

[Today: Billy Corgan is killing me softly with his song...]

“Smashing Pumpkins were meant to be an ambitious project, and I want our recordings to be perfect,” group mastermind Billy Corgan told Guitar Player magazine in 1992. With their sophomore effort, the Pumpkins came close to realizing Corgan’s grand ambitions. Siamese Dream rolls seamlessly back and forth between intense, buzzing guitar solos and peaceful, light melodies – often within a single song. It’s the kind of album that stereo salesmen use to win over potential clients.

This music sounds like the work of a group that’s totally on the same page, but in truth the band members were barely speaking during these sessions, and legend has it that Corgan played everything but Jimmy Chamberlain’s drum kit. Some songs on Siamese Dream contain upwards of 100 guitar tracks, and Corgan and co-producer Butch Vig (who also produced Nirvana’s Nevermind) carefully layered raw solos, sizzling feedback, and the occasional splash of strings and mellotron. As Rolling Stone noted in its original review, “…even the most chaotic pileups of distortion are painstakingly orchestrated.”

Smashing Pumpkins were considered part of the grunge movement, but mainly because they had a key track on the genre-defining Singles soundtrack, and Billy Corgan’s vocals are dripping with angst. The lyrics here reflect some of his personal issues at the time, and most of the songs center around phrases (“The killer in me is the killer in you” or “Today is the greatest day I’ve ever known”) that sound like fortune cookies for profoundly anxious people. Corgan and company perfectly combined the technical flatulence of Prog with the fire and brimstone of Metal and the confessional self-probing of a Singer/Songwriter, and the result was one of the very best albums of the 90′s.

This group has a history of punishing live audiences with ear-splitting decibel-levels, but Siamese Dream is an album that reveals its inner dimensions – and is best enjoyed – when played as loud as possible.

Listen: Cherub Rock

Listen: Today

Buried Treasure: American Poet

[Today: Lou Reed and The Tots score...]

“Welcome to the Ultrasonic Recording Studios in Hempstead. It’s the day after Christmas, the 26th of December. Hope you all got exactly what you had coming to you yesterday because, uh, tonight we’ve got something very special for you, a concert we’ve all been waiting a long time for, something I think you’re going to enjoy. The man who was formerly the main energy center behind the Velvet Underground, Mr. Lou Reed…” With that introduction, and a polite round of applause, Lou Reed launched into perhaps the finest performance of his life.

The year is 1972, the setting is a radio broadcast for WLIR-FM in Hempstead, NY, and the backing band is a group of unknown New York teenagers called The Tots. Reed had spent most of the year touring with the group in support of his album Transformer, but his solo career hadn’t taken off at this point. The warmth of his vocals and ease of manner here may shock long time fans – he’s engaging, jokes around during the introduction to songs, and sings like he’s got something to prove.

The set list is a purist’s dream, featuring an equal helping of Velvet Underground classics and Reed solo gems. “Here’s the rock version,” he intones by way of introducing ‘Heroin’, and it’s a revelation. Vinnie LaPorta’s guitar figures replace John Cale’s screeching cello, providing a mellow yet intense vibe that feels much more narcotic than the VU original. Reed and company also tear through ‘White Light, White Heat’ and turn in a surprisingly gentle reading of ‘I’m Waiting For My Man’. From his early solo works we get a well-sung version of the usually-spoken ‘Walk On The Wild Side’, as well as fragile takes on ‘Sweet Jane’ and ‘Berlin’ and a sassy ‘Vicious’.

This oft-bootlegged show was finally given official release in 2001 under the title American Poet, and it’s an essential addition to Reed’s solo catalog. If you’ve ever found his music or manners to be too abrasive, this is the place to start giving Uncle Lou another chance. “It’s okay, you can clap,” Reed says midway through ‘Rock & Roll’ and clap you will.

Listen: White Light, White Heat

Listen: Vicious

Listen: Heroin

Merry Christmas!

Best wishes for a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

dk + The P

The P Speaks: Chant & Be Merry

Monks generally do good things. Some of them brew fine Trappist style ale, and I thank them for that. And other monks sing, which can be equally intoxicating.

In the childhood house of P, music was ever-present. Designed well ahead of its time, the walls of our house intentionally didn’t reach the ceiling, so music was unavoidable – it wafted from room to room. And that worked out just fine for me: one sibling blasted the Paul McCartney, another Carole King or Three Dog Night. And my father just turned the volume up a little louder on the classical offerings…

Gregorian chants crept into the earways of our house near the end of November, just as soon as we’d all recovered from Thanksgiving. If you aren’t wearing robes and upholding the Rule of St. Benedict (pax, ora et labora) Gregorian chants may be an acquired taste.

Given the season, I thought it would be interesting to see what’s topping the charts in Gregorian chants as this art form celebrates its 10th century…

Chant I + Chant II - Performed by the Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos in Northern Spain. Originally released on vinyl in 1974 (Santa?), this is the best-selling album of Gregorian chant ever released. Another worth a listen from the same abbey is The Mystery Of Santo Domingo De Silos – Gregorian Chant From Spain.

Chant Music for Paradise - Featuring the Cistercian Monks of Stift Heiligenkruez (near Vienna), this album was released in the last year to great acclaim. Their PR monk sent a weblink in to a competition sponsored by Universal, and they won a record contract without ever having to soil themselves in front of Simon Cowell. World fame followed – here is their Dancing With The Stars video. 

Lost in Meditation: Meditative Gregorian Chants II by Capella Gregoriana. Released in 1994.

 
Salve Regina: Gregorian Chant – Performed by Benedictine Monks of the Abbey of St. Maurice & St. Maur of the Abbey of Clevaux, France. This recording is unadorned and – to its credit – sparsely produced. Highly recommended by Gregorian purists, it came out on vinyl in the 60′s and was released on cd in 1990. 

  

Eternal Chant - This French three-disc box set features a variety of performers, um, I mean monks, including Les Ambrosiniens of the Fontenay Abbey, Venance Fortunate Ensemble, Chevilly Choir of the Fathers of the Holy Spirit, Children’s Choir of the Dijon Cathedral. It’s a bit of a mishmash, and not all Gregorian. What’s up with the cover art? I’ve placed it last for a reason…
 
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So get in touch with your inner Latin-speaking choirperson and have yourselves a Kyrie or two…

Doubleshot Tuesday: How The Grinch Stole Christmas/A Charlie Brown Christmas

[Today: Enduring characters from Christmas past...]

Dr. Seuss created many memorable characters in his decades as a cartoonist and author, but his most enduring invention might be the pea-green, pear-shaped mope who plots to steal Christmas from Who-ville. Driven mad by good cheer and caroling, The Grinch, (whose shoes and heart are both two sizes too small) sneers that “I MUST find some way to keep Christmas from coming!” To that end he builds a giant sleigh, puts reindeer antlers on his little dog Max, dresses up as Santa Claus, and proceeds to clean out Who-ville in a string of spectacular cat burglaries. The Grinch’s heart may be “full of unwashed socks” and his soul “full of gunk” but he’s a character I relate to more as I get older. If I lived next door to Who-ville, I’d probably want them to turn down the volume too (and yes, I’m talking to you, Cindy Lou Who). But of course, The Grinch goes soft at the end, returns all the presents and trees and fandanglers, and comes to the realization that “Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store – maybe it means a little bit more.” Boris Karloff narrates with venom, and this is a Christmas special that gets more special with each passing year.

If Mr. Grinch represents a cynical, adult take on the spirit of the season, then A Charlie Brown Christmas conveys the magic of the holidays through the innocence of children. Charlie Brown has to pick out a tree for the school Christmas pageant, and by choosing the scrawniest little sapling available, helps everyone understand the true, non-commercial meaning of Christmas. The plot’s a little thin, and frankly the characters kind of annoy me (my inner Grinch flairs up!), but there’s a magical sequence midway through where Snoopy goes ice-skating alone. His revelry in twirling across the ice evokes the joy of the holidays, and saves this special from the doldrums (as well as Charlie Brown’s incompetence, Linus’ thumb-sucking, and Lucy’s bitchiness). But the best part of all is the soundtrack, courtesy of the Vince Guaraldi Trio. The music has become indelibly associated with the images, but this is a jazz album that swings and sways, and far outshines the television special it was created for. In fact, it’s one of the very few holiday albums that sounds great all year ’round.

Listen: You’re A Mean One, Mr. Grinch [Boris Karloff]

Listen: Skating [Vince Guaraldi Trio]

Magic Moment: Otis Redding Rips It Up

On June 17th, 1967 Otis Redding electrified the audience at the one and only Monterey International Pop Festival. If you’ve ever wondered why Redding is so revered, check out this clip of him playing an amped-up version of ‘Shake’ to open his set that night. A star was born at Monterey, but Redding would perish in a plane crash less than six months later. For many music fans, his name is still synonymous with Soul…

Weekend Playlist

In spite of a weekend filled with last minute gift shopping, travel arrangements, and general holiday nuttiness, we found some time to spin a few albums. Here’s the latest batch to pass over our turntable…

Dr. John | The Sun, Moon & Herbs

Kings Of Convenience | Quiet Is The New Loud

AC/DC | Black Ice

Beck | Odelay [Deluxe Edition]

Them | Featuring Van Morrison, Lead Singer

My Morning Jacket | Evil Urges

Various Artists | Nicky Siano’s Legendary The Gallery

Hercules And Love Affair | Hercules And Love Affair

Lyrics Born | Same !@!#$, Different Day

Various Artists | Nigeria Disco Funk Special

Talking Heads | The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads

The Stanley Brothers | Good Old Camp Meeting Songs

The Black Crowes | Warpaint

Otis Rush | Cold Day In Hell

Son House | Father Of Folk Blues

Alabama 3 | Exile On Coldharbour Lane

The Byrds | The Notorious Byrd Brothers

The Greatest Gift Of All

On Christmas Day, 1978, I became the world’s first 9-year old music critic. That’s because this was the year my parents decided to give my 6-year old (please light that up in neon) brother a vinyl copy of KISS’ Hotter Than Hell. My bro ripped into the album, smiled happily, and flipped it over, revealing the band photos on the back. To the surprise of everyone in the room, Paul Stanley appeared to be having sex with a geisha girl, and Peter Criss, ever cat-like, sat on a throne in front of a nude woman sporting stars over her nether regions.

My brother and I were rabid KISS fans and card-carrying members of the KISS ARMY – drawn to the group no doubt as much by the blood and fire and explosions as we were by the music. At least one of their albums appeared on every Christmas list I drew up between the ages of 8 and 12. So for my folks, the purchase of KISS albums for birthdays and Christmases had become a mind-numbing ritual that lulled their internal censors into a long slumber.

Or at least that’s the conclusion I drew as I watched my brother tear the cellophane off his new, semi-pornographic treasure. The shocked look on my mom’s face confirmed that she hadn’t bothered to flip the album over before wrapping it up. But she rolled with it, he got to keep the album, and it promptly slipped to about 10th place in our hierarchy of KISS albums.

Here are five other memorable musical Christmas gifts I’ve received over the years…

Pink Floyd | The Wall and The Doors | Best Of – My brother bought me both of these albums on compact disc for Christmas my freshman year of college. I was familiar with songs on both albums, but listening to them all the way through on headphones revealed the depth of this music, and made me a serious fan of both groups.

Jimi Hendrix | Stages [Box Set] – Thanks to my step-father David for picking this up for me for Christmas, 1993. This set features four concerts, one from each year from 1967 to 1970, and it’s really the way that Jimi’s music should be heard. It’s also out of print, so it’s become something of a collector’s item. Thanks David!

House Of Records | gift certificates o’ plenty – One of my mom’s annual gifts is a $50 gift certificate to the House Of Records in Eugene. Gives me the kid-in-the-candy-store feeling every time.

Bob Dylan | Another Side Of Bob Dylan [Mono Pressing] – My niece Clara got this for me for Christmas the year before last, and she seemed strangely embarrassed to give it to me. But for a record geek like myself? Pure gold, baby.

The Stooges | Heavy Liquid [Box Set] – My lovely wife gifted me this set a few holiday seasons back. Six discs of Stooges outtakes, rarities, and live performances is the gift that keeps on giving…

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QUESTION: What’s the most memorable musical gift you’ve received?