5 June 2013 (Day 156) – Indigenous Voices

When I got to work today, I realised that I’d forgotten to bring my copy of Yothu Yindi’s Tribal Voice.  How was I going to pay tribute to Mr Yunupingu? The most obvious thing will have been to play something by his nephew Gurrumul Yunupingu who is the aboriginal singer most known around the world.  Then I realised that in addition to him I had at least three other acts on my iPod and others in my collection in a non digital format. If I did, Yothu Yindi’s Tribal Voice, Coloured Stone’s Black Rock From The Red Centre and No Fixed Address’ From My Eyes, would be automatic walk up starts.

Coloured Stone and No Fixed Address were practically unique in that they incorporated reggae music into their sound.  Indeed, No Fixed Address were one of the acts that helped me appreciate reggae music and for a while in the early 80s were popular among promoters who frequently used them as a local support act for visiting overseas bands.  I’m reasonably sure they were the support act on The Clash’s only Australian Tour (or at least they were in Melbourne) cementing the link between reggae and punk that had developed in Britain.  Their brilliant song We Have Survived (from the From My Eyes mini album) is a tune that by all rights should have been a massive worldwide hit especially with its infectious hook “ We have survived the white man’s world/And you know, you can’t change that.”

But for the most part, the great majority of Aborigines who entered the Australian music industry did so via country and western music.  In his great book Buried Country – The Story Of Aboriginal Country Music, Clinton Walker identified a number including Herb Laughton, Dougie Young, Auriel Andrew, Vic Simms, Bob Randall, Bobby McLeod, Isaac Yama and Roger Knox.  I can’t remember how well known these acts were to the general Australian population – certainly they would have been reasonably well known on the Australian (bush) country circuit – but I do remember world champion boxer Lionel Rose having a top 10 hit via the country tune “I Thank You” and also the incomparable:

(# 404) Jimmy Little – Messenger  (2002)                 

Although this is not a country album, Jimmy was taken on a Johnny Cash journey and refashioned a number of well known, mostly alternative, Australian tunes from the previous couple of decades.  His aged yet honeyed to perfection voice sat well with his reinterpretations of The Church’s Under The Milky Way, The Reels Quasimodo’s Dream, Crowded House’s Into Temptation and  The Sunnyboys'  Alone With You. But the highlight is his take of the Warumpi Band’s  Blackfella/Whitefella where its refrain “Stand up/Stand up and be counted” is rephrased from a call to arms to a dignified request that daren’t not be missed.

(# 405) The Warumpi Band – Big Name, No Blankets (1985)

Formed in the Northern Territory, The Warumpi Band eventually moved to Sydney where they caught the eye of Midnight Oil.  As a result of this association came this debut album which, for the most part consists of straight ahead rock on aboriginal themes.  Fitzroy Crossing is a nod the country music origins.  But its big selling point is as the home to Blackfella/Whitefella one of the finest and catchiest calls to action. If you get a chance, try to find the documentary of their tour of inland Australia with Midnight Oil.   It ends with the band playing Blackfella/Whitefella with members of the Oils singing to one side.  As the song proceeds each member gives up his instrument to one of the Oils that by the end of the tune the latter has already begun playing The Dead Heart.

(# 406) Kev Carmody – Cannot Buy My Soul [disc 2 only] (2007)

Carmody is a singer songwriter from far north Queensland who has released only a handful of albums.  But each of these contained enough gems for long-time advocate Paul Kelly to put together this compilation.  (Disc 1 of this set consists of versions of the same songs as performed by a range of present day [white] Australian acts.)  Just the song titles should be sufficient to alter listeners to the likely lyrical content – I’ve Been Moved, Thou Shalt Not Steal [about the British colonists who insisted on instilling Christianity and the 10 Commandments in the Aborigines whilst simultaneously stealing the country from them], River of Tears and the title track.  Comrade Jesus Christ is a powerful spoken word piece in which Carmody makes a convincing case that Christ would today be regarded as a communist if he were to arrive and preach his basic messages.  Naturally, it contains his best known and frequently covered number From Little Things Big Things Grow.

4 June 2013 (Day 155) –Black & white?

After overcoming yesterday’s grey day, I’d thought that I’d play a bit of jazz and blues today.  But I only got as far as;

(# 399) Earl Hines – In Paris (1971)

If Hines has a place at all within today’s pop culture consciousness, it would no doubt be due to the presence of a gig poster of his that adorned the staircase wall of the Malibu beach house set of Charlie Sheen’s character in Two And A Half Men.  Hopefully, its spurred some souls into investigating his music.  Hines is one of the great jazz pianists having fronted his own orchestras, played with other acts, solo or in small combos.  This album is an example of latter and was recorded relatively late in his career.  It is a brilliant set of jazz instrumentals, the most known of which is the George and Ira Gershwin Foggy Day.  My copy of the album is a 2004 reissue that also includes the standard Almost Like Being In Love in which Hines also contributes vocals.

By the time this ended I was in need of a caffeine fix.  As I was sourcing this, I came across a copy of The Age and discovered that the former leader of Yothu Yindi, Mr Yunupingu, had died aged 56 of kidney disease brought about by alcohol misuse.  His death was not a shock; his recent poor health had been widely reported and, unfortunately, his death is still typical of the health fate that still awaits a significant proportion of Australia’s indigenous population.   

But what stunned me was a statement that Yothu Yindi’s famous track Treaty in 1991 made them the first Aboriginal musicians since Jimmy Little in the 1950s to have made the Australian music charts.  (This doesn’t mean that Aborigines didn’t chart at all in the interim.  The boxer Lionel Rose, for example, charted in the 1970s with his song I Thank You, but I suspect he did not meet the definition of musician.)  However, the song only charted when the track was remixed as dance music by white Australian DJs.

 Nevertheless it was the first song in an Aboriginal language to ever chart.  And it has helped in registering in the minds of white Australians that there were (and still are) barriers between our indigenous and non-indigenous populations that require bridging.  Certainly Yothu Yindi showed that music is a tool that can bring this about.  The only time I saw them live was when they supported Santana at Rod Laver Arena in April 2003.  In addition to their support set, they later appeared alongside the headliner for a spirited and deeply felt run through Bob Marley’s Exodus which incorporated snatches of Treaty and I think One World One Voice.

But the irony remains that their success was aided by the DJs who somehow were able to make the song “palatable” to the white mainstream.  It’s also an illustration of rock music’s rather complicated relationship to race relations.  This is also something it shares with jazz.  Music essentially developed by black people that was embraced by the white population.  Popular jazz musicians like Earl Hines got to experience this first hand especially when his orchestra was the first major black one with sufficient popularity to tour the Southern States.

And it was this factor that guided my listening – in the absence of any Yothu Yindi on my iPod – for the rest of the day, starting with the recordings by the man whose voice really shook things up:

(# 400) Elvis Presley – The Sun Sessions (1954/5 released as album 1976)

One of the most famous quotes in the history of rock belongs to Sam Phillips, the owner of Sun Records and Presley’s first producer.  It went something along the lines that he would earn a million dollars if he could find a white man who could sing like a black man.  It’s a sentiment I cannot even begin to comprehend.  Music is something that is heard and felt; how the skin colour of the person performing the music can influence that feeling is mystifying, particularly in the 1950s when most people’s discovery of music would have still been over the radio.  Does this mean that some of the basic rock ‘n’ roll texts found on this compilation of his recordings at Sun, such as Mystery Chain, That’s All Right, Baby Let’s Play House and Good Rockin’ Tonight, would never have been embraced by the white audience if he were black?  

(# 401) Led Zeppelin – BBC Sessions [disc 1 only] (recorded 1969/released 1997)

In the late 1960s there were plenty of British acts that paid tribute to American black and, mainly Chicago, blues acts.  Whereas The Rolling Stones have been portrayed as middle class white boys displaying an enthusiasm for the genre, an act like Led Zeppelin were reviled for essentially doing the same thing.  The key point here seems to be that Led Zeppelin was thought to not grant appropriate song writing credits to the black acts whose music they were revamping.  (Although one should never rule out the influence of their late manager Peter Grant here.) But all that the early Stones  did was to cover tracks by black artists and thus the attribution  of songwriting credits was an easy task.   Led Zeppelin were trying to create original music in a genre that recycles basic riffs, etc.   This disc shows evidence of their earliest work, comprising in studio BBC sessions recorded during 1969.  (Disc 2 is a live show from 1971).   It effectively distils the essence of the first two Led Zeppelin albums and contains all of the key tracks. Yet the criticism of Led Zeppelin becomes supremely ironic for two reasons.  First, even if they were guilty of misappropriating credit on these tunes, how different would such a practice have been when compared to how the black acts were treated by the companies for which they recorded?  And even more ironically, Led Zeppelin’s songs, alongside that of a number of similar pioneers, were to create a form a music – hard rock/heavy metal – that is noticeable in part for its failure to be embraced by black audiences.

(# 402) Living Colour – Time’s Up (1990)

Ask most people to mention a black hard rock or heavy metal act and chances are they will cite either  The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Bad Brains or Living Colour.  The latter is a superb band, with a stand out guitarist in Vernon Reid, that is adept in playing a range of styles.  This is their second, and probably best, album containing the slamming title track, the hit single Love Rears Its Ugly Head and the brilliant rocker Type.  But the standout here is Elvis Is Dead.  On this they quote from Public Enemy’s  Fight The Power and twist a line from Paul Simon’s Graceland to read “I have a reason to believe that we all won’t be received at Graceland”.  On top of this Little Richard delivers a rap pointing out that a black man taught him how to sing only for the band to point out that essentially died as a [black] slave strung out on those interminable dates in Las Vegas.

(# 403) Eminem – The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)

In my opinion, Eminem is the current day version of Elvis Presley, being the artist most responsible for opening up rap music to the American white population.  He did this by proving that white boys could rap and was then clever enough to strike a chord with those that shared the same poor backgrounds as himself.  Forget about the skits and the foul language; this is a howl from the streets from a man hell bent on communicating with his, mainly fellow Americans, that all is not well and that for some people even satisfying personal relationships are impossible let alone glimpsing the American Dream.  And for people like me who have never experienced the type of upbringing or lifestyle he sings about, there’s also the brilliance of Stan and The Real Slim Shady to keep things interesting musically.

3 June 2013 (Day 154) – Mysterious Sounds For Grey Days

I wake up this morning and don’t want to get out of bed.  As we approach the winter solstice, mornings are cold and dark.  Eventually I make my way to the kitchen and “M” has the coffee ready and hot.  We sit at the kitchen table and have breakfast but for all intents and purposes it’s still night time.  By the time we’ve showered and dressed, light has begun to filter through but the outside world still seems dark.

As we drive into town the rising sun alters that world to a dark shade of grey, a sense not helped by the number of new towers and concrete elevator shafts of skyscrapers under construction.   Surely it must have dawned on someone to paint the new buildings, I grumble.  “M”, who knows how dispiriting it is to grow up in a city dominated by grey concrete buildings, agrees.  Then comes the moment I least look forward to each week, as I drop “M” off at her work, marking in my mind the formal end of the weekend. 

I get to my Office and sit at my desk.  I turn on my computer and look at of the window to its left and take in the view of my workplace car park.  I don’t notice other staff members as they arrive.  All I notice is the grey.  I look down at my iPod and decide that I must have music.  Whilst my computer turns on the various programs I need to work I try to find something to match my mood and the outside world.

(# 395) Slint – Spiderland (1991)

Acknowledged as an underground classic this was this band’s second and final album.  Almost the entire album consists of slowish guitar numbers  with lots of space.  In parts the guitars are so low you can barely hear them; you know they’re there, you can sense they’re there but you have to strain to hear them.  Yet everything is audible – guitar string licks, faint reverberating strums, glistening cymbals and lyrics mostly about an alienating existence.  Only on the middle track, Don Aman, does the tempo accelerate with almost all of the remaining tracks sounding like variations of the same ghostly track.  The other exception is the final number, Good Morning, Captain, one of those masterful tracks, such as the final track on Sigur Ros’ (   ) album, that appears to have been inspired by Stairway To Heaven.

(# 396) Bitch Magnet – Umber (1989)

Bitch Magnet utilised an approach similar to that which Slint were to use, (the track Douglas Leader would not sound out of place at all on Spiderland) only much more consistently louder and faster.  But the crisp production, on admittedly my remastered version of the album, means that even the feedback on tracks like Americacrusier and Navajo Ace can be clearly picked out by the listener. 

(# 397) Codeine – The White Birch (1994)

This is another album that reminds me greater of Spiderland but with a lusher guitar sound.  The guitars on this, in turn, also remind me of the warmer sound Sonic Youth were to generate on latter period albums such as Murray Street and Sonic Nurse.  Indeed Vacancy on this album could pass for a Thurston Moore track especially with Stephen Immerwahr’s  soundalike vocals.

(# 398) The Sand Pebbles – A Thousand Wild Flowers (2009)

The Sand Pebbles are a guitar driven psychedelic band from Melbourne.   Whilst not exactly in the same mode as the previous three albums, I played this owing to some superficial similarities, notably the emphasis on guitars and the relatively clean production.  This is a compilation album for the international market with tracks taken from their three albums up to this point and some live material.  Full of tunes with marvellous clear guitar lines that twist in and out and around each other, the best way to experience this band is in concert as the live tracks on this attest.  But the real gem here is the epic 12 minute Black Sun Ensemble, the equal of any guitar heaven track you’d care to name.

1& 2 June 2013 (Days 152 & 153) – Ch-Ch-Changes

I don’t know why but I was feeling really fine on the weekend despite the miserable weather.  

Maybe it was because “M” favoured a weekend at home.  Maybe it was my doing some handyman work around the house and effectively repairing a door that was coming off its hinges.   Maybe it was hearing the news that a tree right behind our house that was forever blocking our gutters was going to be felled by the house’s new owners.  Or, maybe it was the Bulldogs making it 2 wins in a row with another 9 point wing over Port Adelaide in Darwin.

All I know is that full of happiness, joy and bravado, I thought I'd take on the challenge of jazzing up this very blog.

First I needed to come up with a visual representation of myself given my wish to remain anonymous.  Easy one, I parted my collection of vinyl and inserted a bio of Otis Redding and a copy of the Deluxe Edition of Sonic Youth’s Dirty alongside each other adding a hastily scribbled biro dot.  For some reason, I added my reading glasses.  I should have added my trusty iPod.

Next, I went looking for a more dynamic presentation and colour scheme.  I tested a number of the template models that Google has on offer and settled on the watermark version.  After arranging the format, I took out my camera and spent a couple of hours composing the most magnificent watermark image.  I created a space and into it placed a number of vinyl albums, visible by their spines.  Next to this I organised a pile of my favourite CDs with all of the titles visible.  A pile of some of my favourite music book titles spine out again was topped by a number of DVDs, also spine out.

My goodness!  The amount of effort that went into composing that image was enormous.  I wanted to have all my bases covered in terms of what was readable.  So in choosing the various items I kept asking myself questions such as; do I have a reggae album?  What about a blues, item?  Jazz?  A pile of Springsteen?  Where Neil?  Patti Smith? ……….

Finally I was satisfied and I took the image.  It was brilliant.  Next I stuck the memory card into my computer for uploading onto the template which promptly rejected it.  The photograph was too big.  Disgusted, for the first time in my life I felt like an artist who had produced his finest work only for it to be spurned. And so [il]logically, I deleted the image.  Stuff this, I thought.  I’ll use one of their images for now and settled for a black and white shot of an empty stage taken from the back of a band venue.  Damn, it looks pretty good!

After doing all of this, I discovered these things called gadgets and found one that allows you to set up images.  I inserted this as a page and then spent an hour going through the images I took at the gigs I’ve attended this year.  Then I uploaded them , placed them into a logical sequence and annotated them.  Mmm! Not bad.  That’s given me another idea but I need to do a fair bit of work before I can pull that off. 

But, by now “M” is complaining that I haven’t spent enough time with her.  I’m shocked into shame and call a halt.  After packing everything away another realisation hits me.  I’d been so engrossed in my work, I’d forgotten to play any music! 

And so after a weekend tinkering about on my computer in my home studio, I use the internet to present top you, my “audience” the results of my experimentation.   It amounts to a change in image or, if you will, my reinvention.

Hope you like the new direction.

31 May 2013 (Day 151) – Early grunge

Friday.  End of the working week.  There appears to be an unwritten rule at my place of employment that meetings are not held on this day.  If they must be held, it will generally be in the morning.  Friday afternoon meetings are generally verboten.  The great thing about this informal practice is that it gives everyone a chance to catch up on tasks that have emerged during the week.

I’m no different, but I have my own informal Friday practice.  It seems I use Fridays as the chance to play some of the louder elements of my collection at work.  Not louder as in everyone comes to my desk to complain about the racket.  If I’m using my boom box the sound level is still set to such a level that Jack can’t hear it.  (I know because I checked.)  In any case, I still need to hear my own phone ring.

But I’m not using the boom box today.  For some reason it has refused to play my CDs and I suspect a cleaning of the lens is required.  Scrolling through my iPod, I come across one of three bands in my collection  with claims to be regarded as the first true grunge act;

(# 391) Melvins – Houdini (1993)

Anyone familiar with the Nirvana/Curt Cobain story will know the integral role the Melvins played.  A three piece from Washington state in the United States, the Melvins were the band playing the type of music before the type of cult audience that Cobain craved.  But their influence goes deeper than that.  Their long time drummer Dale Crover drummed on the Nirvana demo tape that was instrumental in getting them signed to Sub Pop and it was their guitarist Buzz Osborne that introduced Dave Grohl to the band.  The similarities ended there. Whereas Cobain couldn’t stop himself from writing tunes full of melody (even when try to deny it on In Utero), the Melvins tendered to favour experimental or extremely heavy, slow moving sludge fests.  Houdini is an example of the latter and is arguably their finest album.   Ironically it was their first album for a major label, having been signed in the wake of Nirvana’s success.   In a way, the album almost sounds like a overview of grunge history.  Night Goat is a typical Melvins tune, full of throbbing menace.  Going Blind is seriously heavy, Set Me Straight is the best tune Alice In Chains never wrote and Capache contains feedback scrapings that were to heavily feature on In Utero. 

(# 392) TAD – Live Alien Broadcasts (1994)

TAD, named after front man Tad Doyle, formed in 1988 and played a melodic though extremely coarse sounding version of grunge.  Like the Melvins they were signed by a major label which dropped them after a single album.  Their next album was this, a collection of outtakes and tracks from previous albums recorded live in a studio , the two best being Stumblin’ Man and Throat Locust from their classic 8 Way Santa album.  The version of the former is track is especially notable for possibly providing the musical DNA that has effectively powered Slipknot.

(# 393) Green River – Dry As A Bone (1987)

(# 394) Green River – Rehab Doll (1988)

Almost every member of Green River is well known to followers of the grunge scene.  Original guitarists Mark Arm and Steve Turner have for the last couple of decades powered the mighty Mudhoney.  Their bassist was Jeff Ahment and when Arm decided to concentrate on being their lead vocalist, he was replaced on guitars by Stone Gossard.  Turner left the band before these items were recorded to be replaced by Bruce Fairweather.  This EP and 30 minute album have been released as a single disc with both items being recorded after Turner haddeparted.  For the most part, the music is the same sort of Stooges influenced rock sung by Arm that characterised Mudhoney’s early albums.  It is only over the last three tracks on Rehab Doll – Pork Fist, Take A Dive and One More Stitch – that you can start to head some of the musical ideas that Ahment, Gossard and Fairweather would pursue in their next band, Mother Love Bone and which Ahment and Gosard would refine in the band after that, Pearl Jam.

30 May 2013 (Day 150) – Brits With Guitars

I think you can generally tell when you’re listening to a British guitar act.  It’s got something to do with their guitars and what I suspect is an ongoing love affair with distortion or effects pedals. 

It’s strange because the early British guitar gods were very clean in their playing; think Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Peter Green, Jeff Beck, George Harrison, Brian Jones, David Gilmour, Hank Marvin and many others.  Then along came Pete Townshend and his distorted feedback genius which was promptly taken up a few notches or so when Jimi Hendrix came to town.  Since then distortion has generally ruled.  Sure Richard Thompson and Ian Squire are worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as their musical forefathers but it is the Americans that have long cornered the guitar hero market.

And it was a thought that was reinforced by today’s listening, starting with;

(# 388) Swervedriver – Mezcal Head (1993)

The early 90s was a great time for British music with Britpop in full swing along with the shoegazers and a number of veteran acts finding a second or third wind.  But falling through the cracks was Sweredriver.  Too energetic live to really qualify as a shoegazing act, too heavy to be mistaken for Britpop and definitely not veterans, they were just…different.  Mezcal  Head, their second album, positively drips with sweeping guitar driven numbers  of often epic proportions.  Duel, Last Train To Satansville, Blowin’ Cool and A Change Is Gonna Come are all wonderfully distorted, loud and as catchy as hell.

(# 389) Beady Eye – Different Gear, Still Speeding (2011)

Beady Eye was the band formed out of the ashes of Oasis, more or less containing the last version of the band minus Noel Gallagher.  On this Liam Gallagher has been given himself and the band (including Ride’s guitarist Andy Bell) full reign to indulge in their love of classic 60s British rock.  The Bell penned opener, Four Letter Word and Standing On The Edge Of Noise are great string driven rockers.  Close your eyes during the former and you’d swear you’re listening to a Let It Be outtake.  The Roller sounds like a modern version of The Beatles Getting Better and Beatles And The Stones contains elements that, naturally, remind me of The Who’s My Generation.   And it’s all wrapped up in a production sound that reminds me of my favourite Oasis album, the much maligned Be He Now. 

(# 390) Ned’s Atomic Dustbin – God Fodder (1991)

Just about the most undervalued British album released during the 90s, this is an album that’s chock full of melodic rock with an extremely thick bass sound played at maximum intensity.  Opening track is the wonderful singalong Kill Your Television, full of stops and starts.  Next up is Less Than Useful, an energetic rocker, topped a couple of numbers down the track by dizzying Grey Cell Green.  It’s a tremendous start and the remainder understandably doesn’t quite scale these heights although Capital Letters, Happy, Until You Find Out and You go damned close.  And as good as the album was, it was not a patch on hearing the same songs performed live.

29 May 2013 (Day 149) – More New Acts To The .Youth Collection

Nothing much happened today.  I had a full day at work, nice dinner wiith “M” and precious few opportunities to listen to stuff.  I was given access to couple of albums by acts I’d not heard about preciously starting with;

(# 386) Pony Face – Hypnotised (2012)

Pony Face are a band from Melbourne and this is their second album.  On first listen, I wrote in my music journal that they sound like a less claustrophobic version of Interpol.   It’s a reasonably valid comment but on second listen, I was entranced by the other musical influences that have been added to this basic template.  Opening track, Silver Tongue, initially uses a backing of the sort you would find on some of classic 70S German experimental bands such as Neu!,  Alabama has a distinct Joy Division feel to the way the vocals and bass are treated and Stripper employs a nice droney quality that makes you want to dig out your Velvet Underground albums.  This is destined for my iPod and I suspect it will bloom with repeated listening.

(# 387) Frightened Rabbit – Pedestrian Verse (2013)

This Scottish band can rightfully claim to have the very worst band name that I’ve ever heard.  “Frightened Rabbit”?  I’ve saw a few once when I went rabbiting with ferrets a few decades ago.  More often than not, the rabbits would simply hide deep within their burrows, relying on a complex web of tunnels to lose their pursuers.  Otherwise, they would shoot out of their hiding place like a shot from a cannon.  Either way, none of this describes this band’s music, a sonically dense sounding combination of British bands such as Elbow and Coldplay.  Backyard Skulls and Holy personify their approach.  It’s not bad but a little more light and shade across the entire record would be welcomed.