Friday 29 November 2013

3 – 10 November (Days 307 – 314) – The otis.youth 2013 North Queensland tour

At 8.30, “M” and I are on our Virgin Australia flight to Cairns for a well deserved week long break.

As seasoned overseas travellers, we’re used to making full use of the various entertainment options on board a plane.  But this is a relatively brief flight of only three hours and so our choices are somewhat limited. Whilst our plane doesn’t contain the back of seat entertainment system I love using on overseas flights, Virgin did provide (and at no cost too – bravo!) iPads loaded with options including movies and complete albums.
I’ve yet to spend quality time on a plane listening to music.  I suspect this might be due to the fact that the playing time of a complete album or the specific song lists the airlines market as radio stations doesn’t take up a great amount of time.  When I’m on 13 hour leg, say Singapore to Frankfurt, I want to be totally immersed in something that not only makes me forget I’m on a plane but also eats up a significant period of time by the time that period of immersion has ended.  Believe me it’s almost better than sleep.  And so, I pass up the opportunity to listen to the new Queens Of The Stone Age album, among others, in favour of the magic/crime caper Now You See Me.

My ploy works.  By the time the movie finishes, I can see we’re flying over the Northern Queensland coastline and point out locations such as Mission Beach to “M” who has never been to this part of the world.  After landing we get into our car and begin the 70 kilometre drive to our ultimate destination, Port Douglas which contains a stunning 35 km stretch alongside the sealine.   We cruise into town, load up on some tasty calamari and then find our hotel.  The remainder of our time is spent either alongside the pool, eating, walking on the 4 Mile Beach and exploring the nearby area, taking in the Daintree Rainforest, Cape Tribulation, Mossman Gorge,  the Atherton Tablelands, Kurandra, Palm Cove and Cairns.  There was also a memorable – at least for me - sunset cruise on a catamaran.
Although I took my iPod with me, I end up barely using it at all.  I suspect this was due to the weather which during each day peaked around the 30 degree Celsius mark with barely a hint of rain.  When faced with weather like that I have a tendency to want to vegetate and lay on couches or beds watching stuff.  Even when engaged on my selected holiday reading (see below), I didn’t use the iPod, possibly fearful that the combined act of reading and listening whilst on holiday would be too much for my out for lunch brain to cope.

But there was another reason and, no, it’s not just because “M” was with me.  Rather, Port Douglas comes with its own built in soundscape which anyone would be a fool not to adopt as their temporary soundtrack.  Basically the town stretches back from the tip a peninsula which juts out into the Coral Sea.  The developers appear to have left as much of the basic vegetation as they could and a significant number of the hotels and resorts are placed so that they’re within 100 meters or so of the 4 Mile Beach.  This means, assuming one isn’t locked into an iPod, the sound of the sea rolling into the beach is an ever present with the birds flying in and out of the treetops adding to nature’s symphony.  In that environment, I can understand how anyone can be demotivated to listen to anything resembling loud music.  That evidently includes rock stars; Port Douglas is a favourite spot for touring overseas rock acts to spend a week or so after the rigours of their tour.
It therefore came as no surprise that whatever music I did get to hear – usually background music in pubs or restaurants or the times I did listen to the hotel or car radio - could be easily described as chill out music.  The noisiest track I heard during the entire period was in hippy haven Kunandra when Steely Dan’s Rikki Don’t Lose That Number came on, certainly the only time I’ll ever be tempted to head bang along to that tune.

And so the one time I did hear loud music came as a jarring shock.  It was whilst we were in Palm Grove, an even quieter and laid back version of Port Douglas about half way between it and Cairns.  We’d gone into a Leagues Club, hoping to find a cheap[er] lunch alternative than that offered by the restaurants.   Waiting for our orders, I saw a TV set had been tuned to a cable television station and a program entitled 20 Essential Hair Bands was on.  This was one of those programs where inexplicable selections are counted down and well known figures (at least in the minds of the producers) talk about the merits or otherwise of each act.  The definition of “Hair Band” left much to be desired – what should have been full of those mostly LA spandex type acts from the 80’s such as RATT, Warrant, Poison, Motley Crue, W.A.S.P, Guns ‘n’ Roses, etc   were also joined by acts including Black Sabbath and others I was too blissed out to remember.  But I didn’t really care.  Sitting over my seafood burger, I was content to be merely amused by knowing who got nominated, preferring to gaze out over the beach and the jellyfish nets and listen to the sounds of sea.  It reminded me of a time I saw Atari Teenage Riot at a Big Day Out (I think) on a very hot day.  As BJ said to me later, on a day like that who’d want to listen to noisy Germans dressed in black scream about politics?  (For the record, the no. 1 “hair band” was deemed to be Bon Jovi.)  Even more jarring was coming across the movie version of the stage show Rock Of Ages on the hotel cable.  A "celebration" of 80s music, it contains a collection of the horrible big rock hits (such as We Built This City) that have made it arguably the worst decade in the history of rock/pop.  All I could do was watch in morbid fascination, intrigued as why fine actors such as Alec Baldwin or Catherine Zeta-Jones would agree to appear in such utter tripe.
The end of the trip came all too soon.  I finally pulled out my iPod at Cairns airport when our return Jetstar flight was delayed.  There were no movies on the return home as Jetstar charges $12 for the privilege and so “M” contented herself by going through the 450 odd photos we’d taken and I wrapped up my holiday reading.

(Book 2) Prince by Matt Thorne (2012)
This is an epic 531 page (including footnotes) survey of the life and times of the Purple clad genius from Minneapolis.  Englishman Thorne can rightly claim to be regarded among the hard core Prince followers.  Indeed, one of the chapters in the book is devoted to his reviews about Prince’s 21 night stand at London’s O2 arena in 2007 where he attended 19 of the shows and most of the aftershows as well.   He has an encyclopaedic knowledge of his work and is able to discuss the origins of many of his songs which is important given the sheer percentage of his work that has created from versions of songs he had recorded years previously and which he had retrieved from has fabled vault.  Additionally, his knowledge extends beyond Princes’s own albums.  Each of the records released by acts he championed and for whom he acted as songwriter or producer (such as The Time, The New Power Generation and a bevy of female muses) is also included.  Fortunately, for a hard core fan, Thorne has developed a keen critical eye on this massive output and is prepared to indicate when something is not up to par. 

Essentially, the thrust of Thorne’s overview is that Prince’s creativity peaked with the Lovesexy album and subsequent tour.  Since then Thorne infers that Prince has been compromised since then, obsessed with attempting to find new ways to distribute his music without having to overly rely too much on record companies.  Initially someone who embraced new media and the internet as such a means to do so, Prince has now turned his back on the latter having closed down the websites he had created, thus explaining why there hasn’t really been any new product released via traditional means of purchase for a considerable time now.  The free giveaway of the Planet Earth album with an English newspaper is but one attempt to find a new way.  Thorne also feels that Prince is fairly contemptuous of his mass fan base, especially for its general refusal to embrace his various stylistic changes and experiments and has what I can only term to be an ambivalent view about his classic catalogue.  What seems to emerge is that Prince now relies on his always spectacular live show to draw in the punters by playing his classic material but by interposing songs from the more recent material, hopes to trigger interest in it.
In terms of Prince’s recorded output, Thorne praises most of the albums up to and including Lovesexy and is one of the few writers prepared to see merit in some of the tracks from the Batman soundtrack.  After Lovesexy, Prince’s output has become variable but what I personally liked about the survey of the latter albums is how closely they appear to resemble my own views.  He rightly points out how the Diamonds And Pearls album hasn’t really stood the test of time, cannot fathom the favourable critical reaction to Musicology and recognises the brilliance of The Rainbow Children.  He doesn’t value The Gold Experience as much as I do but, on the other hand, I think Emancipation is overpraised.  His overview of the non Prince recordings, as well as the recent hard to obtain Prince albums such as The Slaughterhouse And 20Ten is especially valuable and is recommended to anyone wishing to dip their toe into this aspect of his career.

Thursday 21 November 2013

2 November 2013 (Day 306) – On The Couch With Pete And Robert

For once I have a legitimate reason for lounging on the couch for most of a Saturday as I seek to keep pressure off my leg and calf.  Time to get lost in a lengthy music DVD.

(AV 31) The Cure – Festival 2005
Unbelievably this is the first time I’ve ever watched a live Cure performance on DVD.  I did see the band live around 20 years ago, I think.  It was an epic show made memorable by a set that rambled all over their catalogue and had a clear but incredibly loud mix. 

Fast forward to 2005, and it would seem that little had changed.  This DVD is a 2 and a half hour extravaganza that pulls in a range of performances from 9 festival performances in different European locales with vision collated from fans in the crowd, the crew on stage and footage taken for the big screen at the festival venues.  As the band wore the same stage gear, everything blends seamlessly.   However, despite the best intentions of guitarist Porl Thompson, The Cure are fairly static on stage but overcome this on DVD with frequent editing between the film sources and with some post production effects.   
The music selection concentrates on those tracks that did not require keyboards with the guitars cranked to the max.  Fascination Street is an early highlight, but for the first hour only the ever reliable Never Enough truly stands out.  A few tracks later, the entire show turns on enthusiastic renditions of hit singles Just Like Heaven and In Between Days and then the floodgates open rather dramatically.  An absolutely thunderous From The Edge Of Deep Blue Sea is then followed by awesome versions of Faith’s The Drowning Man, the B-side and aptly named Signal To Noise, The Baby Screams from The Head Of the Door and Pornography’s magnificent One Hundred Years.  The encores are hugely satisfying, encompassing 4 tracks from Seventeen Seconds (including the inevitable A Forrest), Disintergration’s Plainsong and title track before Faith brings everything to a highly satisfying conclusion. 

At some point during this gig, I figured I could listen to the music whilst completing the reading of my first music book this year.  I mean, just how much footage of Robert Smith can you view in a single sitting?   But it did give me the opportunity to finish off:
(Bk 1) Pete Townshend – Who I Am (2012)

The title says it all.  Townshend’s autobiography is a warts and all self-portrait that simultaneously acknowledges that he cannot escape from the spectre of his band.  (Much like the way the band’s 1978 album was titled Who Are You; no questions marks, just a statement, Who- Are-You.)  And this is a key issue.  Townshend argues that The Who’s supreme  moment was their performance at Woodstock and ever since the morning sun the sun rose as Roger Daltery sang Hear Me See Me there, the band went into a downward spiral.  The death of Keith Moon further consolidated this feeling and he spent about 10-15 years attempting to keep the band out of his life before finally realising that it – and Daltery – are the key factors in his professional life that he can never escape.  His private life, on the other hand appears to be largely one, until recently, of great regret and was certainly something that spilled over into his professional life causing him on many occasions to doubt his worth as a father, husband, musician and songwriter.  He doesn’t appear to miss anything of importance but, even at its great length, you get the impression  (which he does acknowledge at one point) that it’s been cut down from a still greater length. (Let’s face it, if a rock star’s autobiography merited a two volume job, it should be Townshend’s.)   It certainly does get frustrating to get to some asterisks in the text that refer you to his or The Who’s websites for lengthier writings on those points.  But overall it’s a good read, though more self critical than you would normally expect from a major rock figure.
Book read, I needed to take stock, select another book and pack, because tomorrow I go on tour.

Wednesday 20 November 2013

1 November 2013 (Day 305) – My Favourite Album[s]

I limped into work today determined to get some work done and to finally play my favourite album.  But I have a problem.  I don’t have one.  In fact, I have three that I find almost impossible to separate.  Incredibly all are by the same band and were released in succession during a period of great upheaval as they gradually eased out their founder and, technically, most gifted musician. 

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the greatest rock ‘n’ roll band on the planet, The Rolling Stones. 

 (# 700) The Rolling Stones – Beggar’s Banquet (1968)
After the relative disaster of Their Satanic Majesty’s Request, the heat was on The Stones to deliver the goods.  Expectations couldn’t have been high after it was revealed the opening cut was named Sympathy For The Devil.  Yet it just took a single play for everyone to realise this was music of the highest order right down to the “woo hoos”.  Having suckered the audience, it made sense that the next track would be titled No Expectations, a delicate, sparse ballad featuring the first of the classic tired sounded Jagger vocals.  Dear Doctor and Parachute Woman continued this vibe, albeit with increasing and more intricate arrangements, before a  return to the refined sounds of Sympathy via  Jig-Saw Puzzle.

Side 2 is absolutely perfect.  It starts with Street Fighting Man, one of their greatest songs, which would subsequently gain even greater power and force in live performance.  A deceptively driving  cover of Robert Wilkins’ Prodigal Son provides the perfect lead in for the grand trio of closing tracks.  Stray Cat Blues is a sleazy number brilliant emphasised by Jagger’s vocals, Richards guitars and the hit of Sympathy style rhythms towards its end;  a similar rhythm powers the delicate Factory Girl as almost a form of apology and the majestic Salt Of The Earth builds on that to form  its stately, powerful crescendo  generated largely the product of  the band’s vocals, a choir, drums, piano and snatches of slide guitar.
 (# 699) The Rolling Stones – Let It Bleed (1969)

In some respects it could be said that this follow up was an attempt to follow a formula established by Beggar’s Banquet.  For most acts, this would have meant certain death, but The Stones neatly sidestepped the issue by having material that was just as good or even better.  And in the case of opening cut Gimmie Shelter they came up with no less than the greatest track ever recorded.   A superlative version of Robert Johnson’s Train In Vain provided the blues legend cover, Midnight Rambler provided the sleaze factor and You Can’t Always Get What You Want produced the magnificent finish.  The remaining tracks wandered all over the musical map.  Country Honk sees them cover their own Honky Tonk Woman, Live With Me is a driving rock number, the title track sees them return to the musical style of Beggars tracks such as Parachute Woman, You Got The Silver is another delicate ballad and Monkey Man is simply explosive with faint echoes of Sympathy For The Devil.
 (# 701) The Rolling Stones – Sticky Fingers (1971)

Sticky Fingers is a real surprise.  It comprises ten tracks containing only two out and out rock numbers.  Strategically these, Brown Sugar and Bitch, are placed at the start of each side.  Each is an example of The Stones at their most brutal and yet, somehow these are then overwhelmed by the slower tracks that follow them.  Brown Sugar ultimately proves no ,match for mid tempo masterpiece Sway, the absolutely beautiful Wild Horses, the lively Can’t You Hear Me Knocking  and the blues holler of You Gotta Move.  But the absolute highlight are the four tracks that pounder Bitch into submission -  I Got The Blues, the harrowing Sister Morphine (with arguably Jagger’s finest ever vocal), the rollicking Dead Flowers and another perfect closer in Moonlight Mile. 
So there you have it my favourite album.  I can’t split these really, but on this year’s listen (and this year’s listen alone), I’ll anoint Let It Bleed as the winner, just ahead of Beggar’s. 

Not that this means much.  Ask me again next week, and I’ll probably give you a different answer.   In the meantime I have a Saturday on the couch to look forward to and some reading to complete.

29 – 31 October 2013 (Days 302 – 304) On The Couch With Lou Reed

After I got over the shock of Lou Reed’s death yesterday, I managed to see a doctor who prescribed three days off.  For the first two days I was to keep my leg in an extended position and to ice the calf for 20 minutes every two hours.  After that, on the Wednesday, I was ordered back for a review visit.  My doctor indicated I had iced the calf well and then ordered two days of keeping the calf warm; quite a difficult thing to do with our poor Spring weather.

In between all of this [in]activity, I caught up on some movies but also played some of my favourite Lou Reed albums.  This meant that some albums I’ve already spun this year got a repeat play, starting with the majestic The Blue Mask.  But there were other classics as well starting with:
(# 692) The Velvet Underground – The Velvet Underground (1969)

This was the VU’s third album and the first without John Cale, in other words, arguably the point where it could be said Reed’s solo career began.  Certainly just about everything here reflects Reed’s world view without any influence from Andy Warhol or distractions from Nico or Cale’s wild experimentation.    Instead, we have the first Reed album where his guitar work works in true sync with another, in this case of course, the late Sterling Morrison.  This is heard to best effect on the rockier What Goes On, Beginning To See The Light, the ominous Some Kinda Love and, in patches on The Murder Mystery.  The remaining tracks are all slower and feature some of the band’s most loved tracks including Pale Blue Eyes, Candy Says (the prequel of sorts for Walk On The Wild Side) and the Maureen Tucker sung After Hours.
(# 693) The Velvet Underground – Loaded (1970)

Lou’s last studio album with the band showed that he was ready to strike out on his own.  The original side 1 of this album was almost faultless -  Who Loves The Sun makes for a lovely understated opener particularly as it’s followed by Sweet Jane and Rock And Roll, tracks that were destined to feature in Lou’s solo live shows for practically the remainder of his life.  Cool It Down tries to douse the fire of these two tracks but is too catchy to really succeed although New Age rounds out the side rather nicely. Side 2 isn’t as good but Head Held High and Train Round The Bend are convincing rockers and Oh! Sweet Nuthin’ is a fine end to Reed’s involvement in the band.  Even then Reed couldn’t find space to include Tucker’s vocal demo on I’m Sticking with You and the absolutely sublime Ocean which can be found on the “Fully Loaded” two disc version.
(# 694) Lou Reed  - Transformer (1972)

It is now reasonably clear that only David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust is a better glam rock album than this.  Given that this record was produced by Bowie and his guitarist Mick Ronson, this is not all that surprising.  Opening cut Vicious is a perfect opener, although a bit too close to the Bowie template, but Reed was able to assert sufficient authority to ensure that songs as uniquely his as Perfect Day, Satellite Of Love and Walk On The Wild Side were included.
(# 695) Lou Reed – Berlin (1973)

A dark, brooding and tragic rock opera, this was the ambitious follow up to Transformer.  Certainly, no one seemed to expect the heavy orchestration and the use of horns and this might have contributed to the poor reviews it received on released.  Today it’s regarded as a classic, and for the first few numbers – Berlin, Lady Day, Men Of Good Fortune and the first version of Caroline Says – that claim could be made.  I’ve always felt that the subject matter weighs the album down over most of the remainder of the album but the absolutely superb closer Sad Song is such that it validates much of this.
(# 696) Lou Reed – Rock ‘N’ Roll Animal (1974)

One of the greatest live albums ever released, courtesy of the twin guitar attack of Dick Wagner and Steve Hunter, Reed’s deft selection or tracks and the original albums brief (40 minute running time). On this, Reed delivers a jolt to his fans, turning the VU numbers (Sweet Jane – with its elaborate guitar introduction, Rock And Roll and White Light/White Heat) into hard rock anthems whilst maintaining the relative solemnity of Heroin and Lady Day.  Another album of tracks from the same set was released as Lou Reed Live and another two tracks are on the remastered version; can we now have the complete original show released as some form of tribute or Collector’s Edition?
(# 697) Lou Reed – Street Hassle (1978)

I’ve always retained a fondness for this album due to pleasant shock it gave me when I first heard this.  Gimme Some Good Times was an effective opener and Dirt was typical Lou but it was the three part, near 11 minute epic title track that really grabbed me.  A largely string driven work is given an electrical charge when the completely uncredited Bruce Springsteen introduces the third part via a Born To Run quoting monologue that fits it to order.  The second half of the album is pretty good too, with I Wanna Be Black and VU era throwback Real Good Time Together among others.
(#698) Lou Reed – New York (1989)

This is a great rock album on which Lou gives a virtual state of the union address using his home city as a metaphor.  It also introduced the basic spacious twin guitar sound that he would employ on most of the albums he was to subsequently release.   If the album has a weakness it is that the topicality of the album has aged it a trifle but tracks such as Romeo Had Juliette, Dirty Blvd., Busload Of Faith, Strawman and Dime Store Mystery still retain their bite 25 years later.
I could have played more albums if I had time, especially the brutal Live In Italy with the band that made The Blue Mask, 2000’s hideously under rated Ecstasy and maybe even Magic And Loss.  But the moping must now stop.  After all I need to return to work.


 

Friday 15 November 2013

28 October 2013 (Day 301) – Lou Reed

With memories of Saturday’s festival sitting warmly in my memory bank, I breezed through Sunday.  Even waking at 5 am this morning didn’t seem to phase me.  Then I turned over in bed to generate more warmth and seconds later was screaming in pain as the calf in my one of my legs twisted and tore itself.  “M” did her best to initially treat it and an hour later I hobbled to breakfast wondering if I could find a doctor later in the day.

It was then that I turned on the morning news and discovered that Lou Reed had died.
This was not turning out to be a perfect day.  With his devotion to tai chi, etc, I was under the impression that Lou was one of the healthier rock stars going round.  He certainly sounded in great voice on the Lulu album with Metallica but the news he had a liver transplant in May came as a bit of a surprise.  It seems that in death, as in life, Lou had managed to maintain a distance between himself and his fans. 

I don’t mean this last statement to be taken as a negative one.   As a musician and a lyricist, Lou Reed was utterly fearless, prepared to peer into and report on and from some the darkest corners of his own life and that of his hometown New York City.  It sometimes didn’t make for pleasant listening but it was always compelling.  One of the very few rock musicians who should be regarded as a true poet, his words more often than not conveyed a dark realism (and dare I say sit, a beauty) that was usually matched by the music. 
Initially, this approach was hugely influential.  The work of his initial band, The Velvet Underground is today regarded as the wellspring from which most of today’s independent/alternative music has sprung.  Just about the truest cliché in all of modern music is probably the one about the VU not selling many records during their existence but that everyone who did manage to hear one was sufficiently inspired to form a band.  That some of the output of his subsequent solo career is viewed as falling short of the quality of that band is probably an indication of just who quickly the rest of the rock world came to understand the band’s approach and Lou’s insistence on telling true stories no matter how sleazy, gritty or unpleasant the circumstances.

Not that any of this seemed to matter to him.  Lou, especially in his solo career, refused to be pigeonholed and if you didn’t agree with what he was doing I suspect he would muttered “tough shit” (or something to that effect) and left you behind.   It has led to an amazingly diverse body of work, one that constantly challenged his audience’s expectations, left a trail a of emotionally or intellectually battered music journos and bemused or infuriated just about everyone else.  How many rockers could possibly have sustained a career that took in glam rock (Transformer), a junkie rock opera (Berlin), a meditation about death (Magic And Loss), a musical adaption of the works of Egdar Allen Poe (The Raven), songs about his own personal happiness (the New Sensations album and Hooky Wooky on Set The Twilights Reeling), an attempt at rap (The Original Wrapper on Mistrial), a double album of sheer noise (Metal Machine Music) and the collaboration with Metallica?  Some, indeed most of these excursions were derided at the time of release, yet today some of these, especially Berlin, are now regarded like the VU as visionary classics.  So there is a lot to celebrate, and as I spend the next few days recovering, I’ll be hitting the highlights of his catalogue in tribute.
In doing so, there is an aspect of Lou’s death that has been the cause for much reflection.  It really hasn’t dawned on me until now, but with the recent deaths of icons such as Ray Manzarek, J.J Cale, Chrissie Amphlett and now Reed, all seemingly of what others would describe as “natural causes”, I think we’ve finally entered a stage in rock history where the death of the major white rockers that had survived drugs/drink, misadventure, the perils or the road and the occasional psychopath is going to become a regular occurrence.  Certainly, a number of the major blues, jazz and soul masters have already died, but the key thing there was that the great number of these were not in their early 20’s when they embarked on their careers.    And for me Lou is just about the first major rocker to have died of natural causes after I spent decades following a career, purchasing albums and going to gigs that I found richly rewarding.  Whilst I’m not going to declare that I’ve lost a musical brother or some other form of hackneyed shit descriptor that he would have probably abhorred, I feel the loss of one the major figures who has helped shape my musical taste and outlook and encouraged, through his own example, the relentless exploration of new sounds and sensations. 

At least there are the records and the videos to sustain me, but ultimately, as I apply another batch of ice to my damaged calf, all I can do is mutter “tough shit” and carry on. 

Tuesday 12 November 2013

26 & 27 October 2013 (Days 299 & 300) – Gig No. 702: Release The Bats Festival


I awoke on Saturday and put my newly discovered feelings of mortality on hold as I contemplated the pleasures that the day promised.  I was going to spend it at the second All Tomorrow’s Parties  Festival to be held in Melbourne during the same year.   The first festival was held earlier in the year in a wedding reception and bingo centre in Altona.  This was the two day affair featured My Bloody Valentine, Swans, etc and was judged to be an artistic and financial success. 
Today’s show was always conceived as a one day Halloween themed affair at the same venue.  However, about 3 weeks ago the event was down sized to St. Kilda specifically The Palais Theatre and the band room at the Prince of Wales Hotel.  As the Palais holds less than 3000 people it’s probably safe to say that this occurred due to poor ticket sales. 

This was both good and bad news for me.  The good news was that start times were rearranged so that the entire event would be done and dusted by 11pm.  Very civilised.  It also meant that all of the major acts could be viewed from the largely comfy seats of the Palais.  Double tick.  Not only that, but the venue was divided into seating zones rewarding those punters (like me) who purchased tickets early received the best seats. Woo Hoo! 
The downside though was significant.  The Prince of Wales Hotel is about a 5-10 minute walk away from the Palais so I would need to really commit to seeing any of the bands programmed to play there.  As some of the bands playing times overlapped that at the Palais, any decision to commute would inevitably mean missing a fair chunk of the one or two sets without any guarantee of getting into the much smaller venue if it was full.  Reluctantly, I decided not to risk this, thus missing out on seeing parts of the sets by Geelong’s mighty Hoss and US stoner rock gods Sleep among others. 

And then a couple of weeks beforehand, one of the acts I was most looking forward to seeing again, the reformed Jesus Lizard, pulled out of the festival and their Australian tour. Watching David Yow and company take on the ornate Palais venue had threatened to be the day’s highlight.   But I wasn’t going to let any of this get me down.  After attending to shopping and sundry other duties with “M”, I headed off to the Palais intent on catching the “mystery act” occupying the 2.45 pm slot at the Palais assigned to the Lizard.
The mystery act turned out to be local indie darlings The Twerps. They are a four piece band with a compact sound not all that dissimilar to the first recordings made by The Go-Betweens with Lindy Morrison.  All of their tracks were relatively short, usually catchy, and full of youthful enthusiasm which will probably evolve into something extraordinary.  They are definitely one act to watch.

Next up was the one off act Pop Crimes performing their tribute to the songs of the sadly departed Rowland S Howard.   The early part of the set was given to tracks recorded by These Immortal Souls and performed by former members Genevieve McGuckin, Harry Howard and Craig Williamson with J.P Shiloh recreating Howard’s signature guitar work with uncanny accuracy.  The remainder of the set was taken up by tracks from his two solo albums with Shiloh again starring alongside other luminaries including Mick Harvey and Brian Hooper.  It was a deeply felt and appropriate tribute to the musician in, appropriately, the suburb where he originally made his name with The Birthday Party, performed his final gig and where a street is to be named after him.
The Palais was about two thirds full for Pop Crimes but reached just about full capacity for the next act, the debut Australian appearance of legendary American act Television, and playing their revered debut album Marquee Moon no less.  The band line up was that which recorded that album except for Jimmy Rip who replaced Richard Lloyd and the album was recreated with a great degree of love and passion, albeit without the wild abandon that characterised live releases from the original era such that documented on The Blow Up.   Despite this, Tom Verlaine’s guitar work is as sharp as ever (although the same can’t be said of his vocals) as is the Fred Smith/Billy Ficca rhythm section.   The set consisted of the Marquee Moon album and wisely, the band did not play the tracks in the order they appeared on the record.  This allowed for tracks to be better arranged for the concert setting, keeping See No Evil as the opener and bringing the slower numbers together to create mood, light and shade.  However, the revelatory aspect of the performance was in (finally) determining which guitarist played which part on the tracks.  I was amazing to discover, for example, that the wonderful embellishments at the end of Guiding Light were the work of Lloyd/Rip rather than Verlaine as I had assumed for decades.  In the end the highlight was the set closer which was predictably Marquee Moon itself, spun out to 15 minutes and which had the entire audience enthralled.  The standing ovation they received at its end was a deserved testament to one of rock’s finest works and a damned fine performance than many in the audience never thought they would ever see live.

The nostalgic feel that Pop Crimes and Television engendered was simultaneously reaffirmed and yet comprehensively blown away by the next act, Australian legends The Scientists.   After a surprise cover of the theme to the James Bond film You Only Live Twice early on, they proceeded to blast through the cream of their catalogue, including Blood Red River, that has led to many a music critic claiming that they were the true inventors of grunge. 
The FxxK Buttons who followed then demonstrated that it was possible to blow away a crowd using keyboards and electronics.  They are an English duo who have a set up not that dissimilar to The Chemical Brothers but with the capacity to play live keyboards alongside the electronic attack.  Facing each other at right angles to the audience, the early numbers were astonishingly heavy with the keyboards emitting a droning quality that ultimately made them sound closer to bands like Ministry than anyone else.  The tracks appeared to suffer whenever the keyboard was taken out of the equation with the band then sounding like any number of Chemical Brothers clones.  For the most part, however, they were hugely impressive aided by their giant glitter ball and massive visuals on a specially erected screen.

The night culminated with headliners The Breeders playing their Last Splash album in sequence.  To my mind The Breeders are not a headline act and this is where I suspect this might have been one of the factors resulting in the poor ticket sales.  Not only that, the albums best track, the infectious Cannonball, is the second track on the album positioned a long way from the albums other signature track Divine Hammer.  In other words, however well sequenced the album may be it didn’t lend itself to live performance and perhaps they should have taken liberties with the running order as had Television.  Still they attacked the album with vim and vigour and Kim Deal was her usual engaging self with the audience.  
The Breeders set made for an odd end to what had been a tremendous day.  Hopefully the organisers have stumbled onto an alternative way of presenting a one day festival by utilising two indoor venues but hopefully closer to each than this.  Of course to turn a profit given the number of acts involved the main venue needs to seat more than The Palais.  I suspect that when the construction of the roof on Margaret Court Arena at the National Tennis Centre is complete, promoters will be able to do just that utilising it and the next door Rod Laver Arena.  Let’s hope they do, this festival was just too damn enjoyable an experience to let it go to waste.

25 October 2013 (Day 296) - What’s My Favourite Album Ever - Final Nominations [3]

It’s a very sad day for me today as I’m sure it marks one of the tipping points in my mind that forces me to seriously reflect on my mortality for one of the first times in my life. 

Today, I attended the funeral of the first person that I went to school with who has died of natural causes.  It is recognition that I’ve got very few weddings, other than nephews and nieces, to attend in the future and that afternoons like this one will occur with increasing frequency in the next 10-15 years.  Interspersed amongst the congregation I could see fellow classmates (or their now incredibly aged parents) but we all seem to be in no rush to reach out to each other.  Perhaps we are all thinking the same thoughts. 
Before I attended the funeral I went to work, but my mind is fractured by these thoughts of mortality that I actually appreciate the meetings I needed to attend.  Otehrwise, I only had time to play two shortish albums and go for fractured music.

(# 690) Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band –Mirror Man (1971)
This is four track album consists of lengthy tracks that feature bluesy guitars that intertwine amongst themselves and the Captain’s harmonica and occasional vocal.  These are not really songs in the conventional sense but free form jams (apparently Beefheart was inspired by the free flowing live improvisations of jazzman Ornette Coleman) that churn on for as long as the musicians were on the same page.  For the most part, the music on this album is inspired.  On opening cut Tarotplane, the band manages to wring out a basic blues riff for nineteen minutes with even coming close to boring the listener.  The near 10 minute 25th Century Quaker brings drums to the forefront which, with the harmonica playing provides a vague Arabic feel.   The 16 minute title track is dominated by country styled harmonica and slide guitars that give off a distinctly Grateful Dead vibe whilst the 8 minute closer Kandy Korn could almost be passed off as a Frank Zappa track.

(# 691) XTC – Black Sea (1980)
This was one of a series of albums on which XTC were able to marry 60’s psychedelic pop with 70’s  “new wave” styling to produce something which was truly appealing and popular, at least in Britain and Australia.  Black Sea is led off by two irresistible singles Respectable Street and Generals And Majors that are propelled by the pure force of melody, and in the case of the latter, infectious (human) whistling. Living Through Another Cuba merges a percussive attack with (referee) whistles to overcome the angular guitar shapes whilst Live At First Sight triumphs with the need for such embellishments.  Rocket From A Bottle and Burning With Optimism’s Flames both churn agreeably, Towers Of London impressively incorporates flutes and Sgt. Rock (Is Coming To Get Me) is nervously fun.

But otherwise this wasn’t a day for fun and I went to bed that night in a sombre mood.  But at least I had the following day in which to look forward.
 

24 October 2013 (Day 295) - What’s My Favourite Album Ever - Final Nominations [2]

If I was surprised by my playlist of albums I’d forgotten about in compiling a personal 100 favourite album list, I was stunned by the realisation of having left out the albums which made for today’s playlist. If this exercise proves anything at all, it is to question just what goes into people’s minds when they put forward their candidates; this is, what, my fourteenth (?) day of considering albums and it took me until now to recall these stunners. 

(# 685) Creedence Clearwater Revival – Cosmo’s Factory (1970)
Prevailing wisdom always seems to place either of the Green River or Willie And The Poor Boys albums ahead of this one but I disagree.  One of the great pleasures of listening to CCR are those occasions where John Fogarty  lets his guitar rip on some of their lengthier tracks and this album contains arguably their two best efforts.  The first is the opening cut Ramble Tamble which starts off as though its going to be over in a couple of minutes like Fortunate Son but which soon mutates into a heavy instrumental that I’ve always felt wrapped up far too early, even at seven minutes.   The other is a peerless interpretation of Run Through The Jungle containing long snaking guitar lines that perfectly fit the lyrics and, at eleven minutes, is perfectly judged.  The remaining tracks constitutes a master class in their patented brand of Southern influenced short, sharp rockers.   Travelin’ Band, Lookin’ Out My Back Door, Up Around The Bend and Who’ll Stop The Rain are all exemplary and Long As I Can See The Light is the perfect closer.  Beautifully chosen and performed covers – Before You Accuse Me, Ooby Dooby, and My Baby Left Me – all contribute to close to the perfect package.

(# 686) Pixies – Doolittle (1989)
Move forward 20 years and Boston’s Pixies proved that there was a market (at least in the alternative world) for albums teeming with shorter numbers.  Of the 15 tracks on this album, only three are longer than three minutes and two of these (No. 13 Baby and Hey) are among its not so memorable numbers.  Naturally, the third of these tracks, Here Comes Your Man, is one of the albums high points.  But this album’s reputation as one of the canons of alternative rock is well earned, containing a succession of enigmatic but incredibly catchy tracks that places the  focus firmly upon Frank Black’s words, his and Kim Deal’s singing, and most importantly, Joey Santiago’s influential guitar playing.  Debaser, Wave Of Mutilation, Monkey Gone To Heaven, and Mr, Grieves along with Here Comes Your Man are now all regarded as genre classics and closing track Gouge Away also features a memorable bass line that may very have provided the inspiration for Deal’s other band, The Breeders’ hit Cannonball.

(# 687) Tom Waits – Rain Dogs (1985)
I could have very easily devoted a day to Tom Waits as I have for a select range of other acts.  I could have included Heartattack And Vine,  Swordfishtrombones or Mule Variations just for starters but ultimately I always plump for this as it was the album that opened my eyes to his work in the first place.  It’s also just about the most accessible entry point for anyone wanting to explore his catalogue.  Singapore is a wonderful evocative opener which beautifully makes way for Clap Hands. Cemetery Polka. Jockey Full Of Bourbon, Tango Till They’re Sore and Big Black Mariah use a variety of musical forms to great effect, instrumentals Midtown and Bride Of Rain Dogs provide intriguing interludes and Hang Down Your Head, Gun Street Girl, the grand ballad Time, Downtown Train and the wonderful closer Anywhere I Lay My Head sound perversely commercial despite the exotica.  

(# 689) MC5 – Kick Out The Jams (1969)
For anyone wanting to know why, despite the plethora of absolutely brilliant live albums I’ve played this year, I haven’t yet suing the praises of this one, all I can offer is….err…oops!  The opening one two punch of Rambling Rose and the title track, interspersed by the legendary exhortation to “Kick Out The Jams Motherfxxxers! “ is one of the great starts to any live album.  Come Together ups the tempo to unimaginable levels and  Rocket Reducer No. 62 (Rama Lama Fa Fa Fa) maintains it.  Unsurprisingly the pace flags off a bit afterwards but is replaced by the incredibly heavy  sounds of Motor City Is Burning and I Want You Right Now.  Closing number Starship is an acquired taste but is fascinating  in how it foreshadows a number of subsequent musical developments.

October 22 & 23 (Days 295 & 296) – All Things Must Pass

I thought that I would hear a number of albums during this 48 hour period.  It involved travel to yet another country location for work and a night speaking engagement.  Unfortunately, the tool I use to hook up my iPod to my in car stereo system failed to work on either trip out of or back to Melbourne and so I entertained myself with listening to Melbourne’s sports news station.

By the time I returned to my office just before lunchtime on the Wednesday, I had time only to play a couple of albums.  As such I used it to get through the finest studio triple album ever recorded:
(# 685) George Harrison – All Things Must Pass (1970)

It was probably a measure of the deeply combative nature between John Lennon and Paul McCartney during the final couple of years of The Beatles that neither could recognise the sheer quality of songs that George Harrison was building.  (And that’s despite the fact he contributed both Here Comes The Sun and Something to Abbey Road, the last album the Fab 4 ever recorded.) Gathering together friends such as Eric Clapton and the musicians that would subsequently form Derek And The Dominoes, among others, Harrison released this magnum opus. 
On first listen, what surprises even the casual Beatles fan is the sheer number of classic tracks on this album.  Sides 1 and 2 alone contained mega hits My Sweet Lord and What Is Life as well as Wah-Wah, the first version of Isn’t It A Pity and his cover of Dylan’s If Not For You.   Later sides contribute tracks of the calibre of Beware Of Darkness , I Dig Love, the second version of Isn’t It A Pity and Hear Me Lord.  Even now these tracks dominate the selection in any given Harrison best of release you’d care to name.

Finally there is the third disc of material recorded during jam sessions, collection known as the Apple Jam.  Of these the most successful are unquestionably Plug Me In, I Remember Jeep and Thanks For The Pepperoni, all rollicking 50’s style instrumentals which borrows the central riffs from a number of well known tunes and features some stinging playing by Harrison and Clapton.

21 October 2013 (Day 294) - What’s My Favourite Album Ever - Final Nominations [1]

Over the weekend I found myself scrolling through my iPod and I realised, to my horror, that there were a great number of albums that could easily make my top 100 that I haven’t even mentioned yet.   Today’s playlist consists of such albums starting with;

(# 680) Lucinda Williams –Car Wheels On a Gravel Road (1998)
Lucinda Williams is another in the great long line of American singer songwriters. Initially known as a country songwriter due to successful cover versions by other artists of great early songs such Passionate Kisses and Changed The Locks, but for the bulk of her fans, it is Car Wheels On A Gravel Road that was her calling card.  It is a superb distillation of rock, country and folk, very much in the vein of Steve Earle who also appears on the album.  Unlike Earle she doesn’t write overly political or controversial material but, like him, does write deeply felt tracks about life and love.  And just about no one writes better material for themselves; however emotional the songs may read on paper, they take on an extra dimension when sung by her own voice.  There is not an inflection, gasp or swoon that is not meant and one can almost come to the conclusion that the, often exquisite melodies are written in the first instance to complement them.  Listen to the title track, Drunken Angel, Concrete And Barbed Wire and the sublime Still I Long For Your Kiss and you’ll immediately hear what I mean.

(# 681) Steely Dan – Pretzel Logic (1974)
This is the key album in Steely Dan’s history, marking the period of transition from the rockier sounds of their first couple of albums to the studio perfectionism of their albums from Aja onwards.  Opening cut Rikki Don’t Lose That Number explicitly points towards that future but there is enough passion and fire in both the band’s performance and Donald Fagan’s delivery to ensure that it remains the fave Dan track for a great many people.  Elsewhere variety of styles abound; Parker’s Band, a tribute to jazzman Charlie Parker, is fired by stunning guitar work, Barrytown is dominated by its lyrical content (a true Dan rarity) and East St Louis Toodle-Oo sees them tackling Duke Ellington. Most of side two is taken up by abstract works such as Through With Buzz, With A Gun, Charlie Freak and Monkey In Your Soul that work superbly ultimately tie this distinctive package together.

(# 682) Pavement – Crooked Rain Crooked Rain (1994)
This is Pretzel Logic as it would have sounded like had it been recorded 20 years later.  Undoubtedly Pavement’s most popular album, it carefully balances a hit single in the guise of the undeniably catchy Cut Your Hair, the even catchier Gold Soundz and the delicate Stop Breathing, with typically fractured Pavement tunes such as the opener Silence Kit,  instrumental 5 – 4 =Unity,  Newark Wilder and Hit The Plane Down.  As unlikely as it sounds, the closing number Fillmore Jive is a majestic epic.

(# 683) De La Soul – 3 Feet High And Rising (1989)
One of the rap albums that rock fans should own, 3 Feet High And Rising is a triumphant combination of humour, wordplay, inspired sampling and heaps of originality.  The album is distinguished by containing no examples of then dominant gangsta rap and even the social message of Ghetto Thang is cloaked in a positive message.  But even more crucially for rock fans, its best known tracks resemble rock numbers more than rap; best known track The Magic Number has now been covered by a number of rock acts.  Potholes In My Lawn, Me Myself And I and The ‘D.A.I.S.Y. Age are very much in the same vein. Even the various skits, most built around a fictional quiz program incorporating the worst attempt at an Australian accent ever recorded, add to the overall joyful feel. 

(# 684) Joy Division – Unknown Pleasures (1979)

Joyful is definitely not a word to describe Unknown Pleasures, arguably the key record to emerge from the post punk era.  Stark, dark and claustrophobic are more appropriate descriptors and despite what one might think about the sound of Ian Curtis’ voice or the state of his mind, it is music of the most compelling kind, an inscrutable work of art that demands repeated listening without ever yielding its secrets.  The spritely feel of opening track Disorder is almost a false start.  The walls start to close in with Day Of The Lords and it’s “Where will it end?” refrain whilst Candidate and Insight which follows consolidates that feel in word and sound.  New Dawn Fades then takes us to an even darker place consolidated by the unforgettable She Lost Control, Shadowplay and Wilderness.  Interzone appears almost as a respite but the darkness of closer I Remember Nothing ensures this is only temporary relief.