And this provided me with the theme for today’s
listening. There are a hell of lot
albums out there by established acts who go under assumed names as if to hide their
true identities. Obviously in most
instances, these identities can be determined by just as single listen,
especially if the artists involved have distinctive voices or playing styles. But from what I’ve been left to understand,
in many instances, this occurs at the insistence of one or more of the acts’ record
companies who have allowed them to record and release the results on the other act’s
label. The idea seems to be that if the
act releases the material under a different name, this would not divert too many
sales away from the act’s established catalogue.
If true, this is another example of how record companies truly
do not understand how music fans operate.
First, as I’ve already mentioned, if the acts have anything distinctive
about them, their presence in the new entity becomes immediately apparent. Second, it reveals a breathtaking naivety
about music fans, especially today. It
may come as news to them, but fans really do read music magazines, websites or newspapers and listen to radio stations etc that
will report on and review the eventual results.
Finally, and most importantly, the labels don’t seem to understand that
such an album amounts to free publicity for the act’s back catalogue.
And so today’s listening dips a toe into some of my
favourite examples of acts in disguise, starting with a partial one:
(# 493) The Chris
Stamey Experience – A Question Of Temperature (2005)
True identities: Chris Stamey and Yo La Tengo
The origins of this mindblowing album go back to 2004 when
the album was originally released (and credited to the true identities) in a very limited run as part of an anti
George W. Bush re-election effort. Fortunately, sanity prevailed and the album
was given a full release. Although Stamey is identified, very few of the
numbers here sound like the quirky tracks that would have been recorded by the
group with which he is most often associated, The dB’s. (One of their tracks, Summer Sun, is covered
here.) On the other hand, the album
sounds very much like a lost Yo La Tengo album with Ira Kaplan’s idiosyncratic guitar
playing very much to the fore. It starts
off with a brace of superb cover versions, the most well known being The Yardbrid’s
The Shapes Of Things, Cream’s Politicans and Television’s Venus. But the absolute highlight of this set is the
awesome 10 and a half minute MacCauley Street (Let’s Go Downtown). A classic slow/freakout/slow number of the type
often utilised by the latter day Sonic Youth (refer to Murray Street tracks
such as Rain On Tin or The Empty Page), this starts off with quiet half
sung/spoken lyrics that clearly position the song as a form of modern day homage
to The Velvet Underground. (Lou Reed is even
name checked in this part of the track.) The middle five minutes or so is an
inspired Yo La Tengo freakout with guitars and Kaplan’s e-bow exploding in all
sorts of directions as if trying to replicate the VU’s improvised workouts on
their live renderings of Some Kinda Love before fading to an organic end.
(Sonically speaking, all of the guitar and e-bow lines in the middle
section appear to have been allocated one channel or the other, and so fiddling
around with equalizers, speakers, etc, can produce varying results.) It is very close to the
finest single track I’ve ever heard from this veteran band.
(# 494) Hindu Love
Gods – Hindu Love Gods (1990)
True identities: Warren Zevon and R.E.M. minus Michael Stipe
This album consists of a number of cover versions knocked
out during the recording sessions for Zevon’s Sentimental Hygiene album. (Zevon’s band on that album was essentially,
Peter Buck, Mike Mills and Bill Berry.)
It’s not meant to be taken as anything other than an enjoyable romp
through a number of well known songs. Of
these the highlight is their barnstorming version of Prince’s Rasberry Parade. Close behind is a stomping performance
of Battleship Chains a track made famous by The Georgia Satellites, the blues
standard Mannish Boy and other blues classics such as Crosscut Saw and
Travellin’ Riverside Blues. A version of
Woody Guthrie’s Vigilante Man rounds things off nicely.
(# 495) The Dukes Of
Stratosphere – Chips From The Chocolate Fireball (1987)
True identity: XTC
Easily the most intriguing of these acts owing to its highly
ironic and totally unforeseen consequences, this is a compilation of
the debut 25 O’Clock mini album from 1985 and the full length 1987 release
Psonic Punshot. XTC recorded these
records as a homage of sorts to the British psychedelic acts of the 1960s
they loved and which also seemed to inspire much of their work at the time. XTC was not referenced on the original
releases with each member adopting a fictitious identity and certainly the 6 tracks which make up 25 O’Clock
are hard (at least to me) to pick out as them.
However, it was hard to miss distinctive XTC touches on Punshot,
especially on Collidescope, Vanishing Girl and You’re My Drug. Closing track Pale And Precious plays out as
an astonishing Pet Sounds era homage to The Beach Boys. Incredibly, despite the fact XTC were
releasing amazing albums under their own name simultaneously, they were
massively outsold by their alter egos.
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