14 June 2013 (Day 165) – Listening, Forgetting and Appreciating

Although it’s the Friday at the end of a shorter working week thanks to the Public Holiday for Iggy’s Birthday, the day seemed the same as yesterday.  But I was in the mood in listening to albums with a much fuller sound;

(# 432) The Church – Priest = Aura (1992)

As the years go by, this album is increasingly being regarded as just about the best album in the band’s lengthy career, although I personally still rate Starfish and The Blurred Crusade ahead of it.  What’s not in doubt is how the band’s career artistically turned on this. Indeed the band announced their break up on the Australian tour that supported this album but this resulted only in the departures of guitarist Peter Koppes and this album only drummer Jay Dee Draugherty (of the Patti Smith Group).  Church albums since have, more or less, adopted the same musical outlook pioneered as the majority of tracks on this.  The Byrds type jangly rock of previous albums is largely gone replaced by tunes that place a great deal of emphasis on evocative widescreen moodscapes.  The tone is set by the keyboard driven Aura, an incredibly lush track with the usual enigmatic lyrical musings of Steve Kilbey and the guitars of Marty Willson-Piper and Koppes poking around in the background.  The seven 7 minute Ripple which follows is one of arguably two signs of past guitar glories.  The other is the penultimate track, the ten minute Chaos, which suitably describes the guitar noise that erupts within it.  But most of the remaining tracks are mood pieces like Aura with tracks like Swan Lake, Feel and Dome standing out. 

(# 433) Cabaret Voltaire – The Original Sound Of Sheffield ’83-’87 (compilation 2001)

Cabaret Voltaire existed for over 20 years and released at least 18 albums.  And yet the compilers of this “Best Of” have done a sensational job of demonstrating how the act developed from produced post-punk industrial soundscapes to sensational techno dance tunes in the space of only 14 tracks.  The early tracks are an acquired taste but once catchy tunes such as Nag Nag Nag, Silent Command and No Escape kick in, there was no looking back.  The relentless nature of Split Second Feeling is sensational and Yashar adds some Arabic influences into the mix.

After I played this, something quite bizarre occurred.  It didn’t occur to me to play anything else for the rest of the work day.  I have no idea why this happened and can’t account for it.  All I can say is that sometimes you just enjoy the silence.  After work, I joined “M” at a nearby pub with some of her workmates to celebrate the weekend and we proceeded home. Even more strangely I developed the urge to play something and so, whilst “M” threw dinner together, I thought I’d play something she would like, provided she identified the songs;

(# 434) Easy Star All-Stars – Thrillah (2012)

I really love the All-Stars reggae version of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side Of the Moon album.  Their version of The Beatles Sgt. Pepper’s is acceptable but I could never bring myself to purchase their take on Radiohead’s OK Computer.  This is the latest attempt at covering a musical landmark and, as the title implies, its Michael Jackson’s Thriller that is the subject.  It’s a reasonable attempt but my main concern here is that some of the tracks, notably Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’, Beat It and Pretty Young Thing barely pass muster as reggae tunes.  Baby Be Mine, Human Nature and, incredibly, The Girl Is Mine fare much better.  A second go at Beat It, a dub version titled Dub It, is the album’s stand out.

(# 435) Bettye LaVette – I’ve Got My Own Hell To Raise (2005)

This is an unbelievable album.  After a long and fairly undistinguished career, R&B singer LaVette hooked up with musician turned producer Joe Henry who helped turn her into a star.  Having assembled a crack band including Doyle Bramhall II and former Prince keyboardist Lisa Coleman, Henry and LaVette considered over 100 contemporary songs before settling on a sensational  selection of 10 tracks, none of which, ironically are R&B tunes and all written by female songwriters.  Sinead O’Connor’s I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got followed by Lucinda Williams’ Joy began the album sensationally.  After that there was no let up with inspired treatments of songs as diverse as To The Limit (Joan Armatrading), Little Sparrow (Dolly Parton) and Sleep To Dream (Fiona Apple).  LaVette so commands the material that anyone unfamiliar with the original tunes would not have reason to think these are covers.

13 June 2013 (Day 164) – Just The Basics

It was just another day at my desk as I worked through a number of tasks.  In fact, even now as I write, it’s hard to think of a noteworthy moment, mood or comment.  All that’s recorded in my music journal is the list of the albums I played and some comments about them.  And yet, as I look over this list, I can see a kind of linkage between the albums I’ve played although I’m not entirely sure what to make of it. 

What I have noticed is, in a day singularly lacking in detail, nuance and uniqueness, I’ve selected music that, to this ear, sounds very basic.  Or put another way, music played with very few instruments or, if a few are involved, just the basic ones (i.e combinations of voice, guitar, bass, drums, keyboards or saxophone). No exotic instruments are involved, production values are relatively simple and the music is something I imagine that could easily be reproduced live without having to haul much equipment on stage, that is assuming a stage is even needed. That is certainly true in the case of jazz which is where I started my day with a true classic;

(# 427) John Coltrane – A Love Supreme (1965)

Along with Miles Davis’ Kind Of Blue and Norah Jones’ Come Away With Me, this is the jazz album most likely to turn up in the collections of people who don’t profess to have anything more than a passing interest in the genre.   It is a wonderful 33 minute composition that is broken up into three phases of varying lengths.  Coltrane doesn’t even play his saxophone for significant portions, gracefully allowing soloing time and space for his pianist, drummer and bassist.  His saxophone playing effectively bookends the album and consists of the same graceful playing that marked the majority of this work until this stage of his career.  Nonetheless, when it comes, it’s incredibly expressive and effective.

(# 428) The Cure – Seventeen Seconds (1980)

Don’t ask me why, but the final flourishes of A Love Supreme brought this album into the forefront of my mind.  It might have been due to A Reflection, the sparse piano and guitar instrumental which opens this album and sets the tone for a collection of relatively quiet and fragile though very dark songs.  The albums power has not been diminished over years and, if anything, tracks such as Play For Today, A Forrest, the title track and In Your House have gained added intensity.

(429) Kraftwerk – The Man Machine (1978)

Men with computers.  What could be simpler.  This was Kraftwerk’s seventh album sitting between the glorious Trans Europe and the utterly human Computer World.  Obviously, the amount of hardware needed to create this music would have been quite significant when this was recorded, but it is a mark of progress that the remnants of the band can now tour the world and play this exquisite music essentially from laptops.  I’m not suggesting for a second that either you or can can now create this; a keen musical mind is still essential to create the sheer melodic marvels that are Neon Lights, the title tracks and, of course The Robots and The Model.

(# 430) John Lee Hooker – That’s Where It’s At (1969)

One man, his electric guitar, an unbilled bassist and some wonderful examples of delta blues.  This gem is not often mentioned in many of the overviews of Hooker’s career but it is unhesitatingly recommended to any fans of the great man.  Please Don’t Go lacks only the Baby from its title, the final track, Grinder Man, is obviously admired by Nick Cave and Feel So Bad, a duet with the bassist is one of the most overlooked songs in his entire catalogue.  As always, Hooker’s guitar playing is a treat, full of dark menace.

(# 431) Beck – One Foot In The Grave (1994)

Apparently, under the terms of his contract with Geffen records, Beck Hansen was allowed to record and release some of his more experimental efforts on independent labels.  The wonderfully weird StereoPatheticSoulManure was one such release and this album, released between Mellow Gold and Odelay, is another.  Originally released on Calvin Johnson’s K Record Label, the album originally consisted of 16 tracks although I think I might have originally obtained a Japanese edition of 19 tracks.  (The album has since been rereleased with a whopping additional 19 tracks to the original 16.)  Whatever it composition, it still contains a number of lo fi, kind of modern version of folk blues with a number of instantly memorable tracks such as I Get Lonesome, Ziplock Bag, Asshole and Girl Dreams. 

12 June 2013 (Day 163) – Musing re Home Taping

It was such an incredibly busy day that I barely was able to sit at my desk.   This was a shame because I was in the mood to listen to albums by the so called Los Angeles “Paisley Underground” acts of the mid-1980s.  But over the course of the day, I did manage to listen to an album by arguably its most important band at a significant point in its, and thus the movement’s, history;

(# 426) The Dream Syndicate – The Day Before Wine And Roses (live 1982/released 1994)

This live album was originally a live in an LA studio radio show in September 1982, just a week before the band went in to cut their debut album, The Days Of Wine And Roses (hence the title).  It is an intense but short (no more than 45 minutes) gig of a band in its earliest days and so it is no surprise that there are a number of covers in the set including, Buffalo Springfield’s Mr. Soul.  This comes just after the opener, Some Kinda Itch, both tracks rendered in a low key but brooding style increasing the musical tension until the band explodes into Sure Thing.  (It was such an effective combination that the three numbers were subsequently released in sequence on a vinyl EP I have somewhere at home.)  The guitar orgy continues into the classic That’s What You Always Say followed by a return to covers, this time a reasonable reading of Dylan’s Outlaw Blues.  Open Hour, the early title of what was to become their best known work, John Coltrane Stereo Blues, comes next and is comparatively sedate but no less effective compared to some of the wilder versions captured on subsequent albums or bootlegs.   When You Smile and cover of Donovan’s Season Of The Witch return to the nature of the opening couple of tracks before the explosive closer of The Days Of Wine And Roses. 

This is an album that is among the relatively select few in my collection I make a point of playing each and every year.  And every time I play it, I end up musing about the “evils” of home taping and now illegal downloads.  The trigger comes just after the band is introduced for its set.  Its leader and lead vocalist Steve Wynn states that he has been told he has to read a statement that starts with the phrase “Home taping is ruining the industry” before seemingly dissolving into laughter. I would have laughed if I was placed in Wynn’s position too. 

Why? Consider this scenario; here is a band that has only released an EP on an independent label being asked to broadcast a statement that the taping of a live performance (which, by the way, the album’s liner notes state started at 2 am in the morning!) would contribute in some way to ruining an industry run by huge multi nationals.  Surely it would have dawned on someone that the band was hoping there would be fans out there prepared to tape the show so they can play it to others would might be sufficient enthused to buy the band’s recordings, attend their gigs and purchase their merchandise.   

And this is the point that the recording agency completely and consistency never considers in its total opposition to the duplication of music.  Think about your first exposure to many of your favourite acts; no doubt there are some occasions where that first exposure has come because you’ve borrowed an album or received a copy of it on a tape or USB stick from a friend.  Sometimes you might heard a track or gossip about an act and download something to determine whether you’d like to purchase it.  By way of example, the very first AC/DC album I ever owned was a taped copy I made of the TNT album owned by someone else.  At the time I didn’t have money to purchase albums which were luxury items after all.  I did scrape up enough money to get the Jailbreak single (now just where is that?) but I lived with that tape  for a very long time.  But since then I’ve bought most of their albums, the Bonfire and Backtracks box sets and see them every time they roll into town.   And it all stems from that one little tape I made.  Sometimes you have to give a little in order to gain a lot.

But the industry does not think in those terms.  I don’t know about you, but I’ve never received a freebie from a record company other than the occasional sampler.  (Even then a label sampler will contain the acts on the roster you’ve never heard of or wouldn't want to hear.)   Usually when something extra is provided, such as a bonus disc or DVD with an album, it will now be in the form of a special edition for which you have to pay extra.  Even worse is when the special edition comes out a discrete period of time after the album has been released and all the hard core fans have purchased it.  You’re then left with the decision of effectively having to buy the same item again in order to obtain the bonus material.   It’s even worse these days with the differing versions of anniversary recordings.  Take, for example, The Who’s magnificent Live At Leeds album.  I first purchased a cassette version of it in the pre CD era in its original 6 track incarnation.  Eventually the CD version was released and I got that.  Then came the 25^th Anniversary Edition in which the album was extended to a full length CD and I got that.  I drew the line when the 30^th anniversary 2 disc edition was released containing the entire show.  And as for the super deluxe edition containing the full Leeds show and the gig the following night in Hull, forget it.  Fortunately sanity has been restored and the Hull set is now available separately which I've since purchased.  But the bonus live disc that came in the Collector's Edition of Who's Next has not been released separately.  Given that I originally bought the album on vinyl, then CD and the then CD edition with the bonus tracks (effectively the forerunner to Disc 1 of the Collector's Edition), I figure I'm entitled to make a copy of the live disc from the Collector's Edition should I choose to do so.

And this is not a rant against The Who.  There are plenty of others out there.  The question remains, what other industry does this?  (I know the movie industry releases special edition DVDs, but usually this means the addition of documentaries and commentary tracks not wholesale changes to the basic project. The number of Director's Cuts of movies is really not that great.)  I don’t know about you, but if I’m being forced to buy an album for the second, third or fourth time in order to access new material which the label doesn’t deem fit to release separately, I tend to think in terms of duplication.

And this brings me back to the Dream Syndicate. Steve Wynn has authorised special editions of their albums, notably the expanded The Days Of Wine And Roses and the expanded version of their brilliant Live At Raji's album.  But the former, which had only a very limited initial CD release, now has all of the singles and the EP attached to it and The Complete Live At Raji's provides the entire show.  Thus in both cases there is now no scope to produce a third or fouth generation release of these albums.  But even then there has been the deliberate reissue of the stop gap, This Is Not The New Dream Syndicate Album...Live and the Medicine Show albums onto a single disc.

This brings me back to the statement Steve Wynn was asked to read.  Taken quite literally the prediction was ultimately proven to be false.  Home taping did not ruin the industry.  Indeed it’s the tape industry that’s now in trouble. ( Seen many blank cassettes for sale in shops these days?) And who knows, it was probably all those tape copies that were made of the show that mutated into bootlegs that probably convinced a record company that the show could be released on CD.

Is the internet killing the industry?  Steve Wynn certainly doesn't appear to think so.  Like many acts, you can go to his website to purchase a number of his albums that are difficult to obtain anywhere else.  Yet he also approves the uploading of audience tapes of Dream Syndicate and solo shows on the Archive.com live concert website.  (Indeed some of the shows come from his own tape archive.)  Obviously here is at least one act that doesn't think that the internet is a threat to his own livelihood.

Yet how did the recorded music industry respond to the internet?  Well it appears they took the same attitude as they did to home taping and it was only after they realised that a) they couldn’t ban it and b) suing the consumers who used it to download songs was not a good thing that they’ve embraced it.  But this slowness to act has come at a cost.  For starters, way too many of the superstar acts have realised that they can make much more money by selling live discs and even albums via the net, free of record company interference.   Even more importantly they have lost the means to control consumers by forcing them to buy albums.  In many ways we’ve now reverted back to the 1950s where the emphasis is now on individual songs.  But it is a new frontier, with consumers are now increasingly thinking in terms of favourite songs for their smartphones, iPods, iPods, etc.   In some ways the industry has got what it wanted – for consumers to treat music as something that is disposable – and for it to constantly purchase the same song repeatedly in the form of soundalike acts.  And if they educate consumers to delete tracks from their devices when they tire of it, they will eventually succeed in getting them to literally repurchase the same songs when they yearn for it again.

But are they proceeding along the right path? If one thinks about online streaming services, I’m not too sure, mainly because if have absolutely no interest in ever using them.  I look at it this way; just how much of the annual fee each subscriber pays actually gets back to the artists and is the service economically sustainable at current rates?  All I know is that the industry would not want to have me for a customer.  Consider this; so far this year I’ve played a total of 426 albums.  Assuming an average quantity of 10 songs per album (which I suspect understates my listening significantly) I’ve listened to 4,260 tracks.  If I’ve paid a $100 subscription for one streaming service for one year, that has already translated to an outlay of 0.023 cents per track which, of course, will halve by the end of the year assuming I maintain my current listening rate. So, just who will benefit from this, the artist or of the record company?  Clearly, its in the interests of the record industry to continue to purchase albums, but what incentives are they providing me other than the incentive to copy?
But there are two aspects about the whole home taping/downloading issue that one needs to be careful about.  One is the need to look after up and coming acts.  By this I don’t mean the new acts being foisted on the public by the record companies which I think is now being achieved exclusively though these so called reality TV programs such as The Voice and Idol…..this is a matter, I’ll expand upon next week.  What I refer to here are the acts like The Dream Syndicate in September 1982 as these are the acts that we’ll need to nurture and encourage if the music is to continue to develop.  Similar considerations apply to those acts who have consistently provided fine music over the years without ever hitting it big.  As one’s definition of who these acts are will invariably differ according to taste, I won’t single these out other than by noting that you know the sort of acts I’m thinking about.  These are the acts – and the real industry  -  whose products we should be purchasing. 

11 June 2013 (Day 162) – Thinking Music

I return to work after a long weekend mentally refreshed.  I need to be.  My Manager has written the shells for three policies we’re developing and wants me to review them.   An article I’ve written for a professional journal has returned from the editor and I need to review his changes and attend to the issued raised.  And then there’s the usually stuff that I handle.  It’s time for thinking music and I know just where to go:

(# 422) Frank Zappa and the Ensemble Modern – The Yellow Shark (1993)

The last album released during Zappa’s lifetime also happened to be one of his very best.  In true Zappa fashion, he doesn’t play a note on it.   This is not all that surprising because this is one of his classic music outings, the album containing live recordings of a variety of Zappa classics and new material performed by the Ensemble Modern in  Frankfurt, Berlin and Vienna in 1992.  Zappa was involved in the rehearsals process but was too ill to perform at (or even attend many of)the shows due to the cancer that eventually claimed him.  He was able to introduce one of the performances in typically humorous manner which is included here, but the real star is the orchestra.  The first half of the album is thrilling stuff, even for a rock pig like myself.   The closing track, G-Spot Tornado, is nothing short of magnificent, a track played at full throttle, and which is ranked by many Frankophiles as among his very best tracks.  The remaining tracks, from Food Gathering In Post Industrial America 1992 through to Get White sounds very much like a suite for a movie documentary that might be a bit too eclectic and fragmentary for many tastes.  If you’ve considered buying a Zappa classical album, fret no more.  This is definitely the one to get.

(# 423) Keith Jarrett – The Koln Album (1975)

This is one of the greatest and most dramatic live albums ever released.   It is a recording of a magnificent improvised solo jazz performance and so none of the tracks have formal titles, just part numbers.  What’s amazing about this album is that owing to problems with the piano provided at the venue, Jarrett ended up playing from only a small section of its keys.   Listen carefully and at times you can squeaks from the keys, of Jarrett hitting its pedals and, most significantly, his grunts of satisfaction as he hits a sequence that he likes.  Incredibly,  the first couple of tracks do not sound like improvised music at all, however, the last couple of tracks prove the audience was listening probably too intently as both end to agonising silence until the dawning realisation that the pieces had ended.

(#424) The Grateful Dead – Live/Dead (1969)

This is another of the greatest live albums ever released.  It is also the album to start with for anyone wanting to dip their toe into either their large catalogue or the thousands of bootleg taps out there.  The centrepiece of this album is, unusually, its opening cut, a hypnotic 23 minute version of Dark Star which many Dead critics claim has never been bettered.  Largely instrumental, the track never seems to run out of steam and the delicate interplay between the guitars, keyboards and bass is sublime.  This runs straight into a marvellous version of Saint Stephen something that was not possible on the original vinyl release.  The same applies to the next two tracks, The Eleven and Turn On Your Love Light, the latter sounding very much like the Allman Brothers.  The album ends with a magnificent 7.30 minute feedback excursion titled Feedback which, at times, almost sounds like an ambient music before concluding with the bands traditional set closer And We Bid You Goodnight.

(# 425) Sigur Ros – (   )  (2002)

A mysterious sound opens this album leading into a beautiful ballad.  None of the tracks have titles.  None of the lyrics make any sense because these are sung in the band’s invented language which it calls Hopelandic.  But none of this matters.  On this album, each track, combining piano, Jonsi’s voice, keyboards, understated drums and weird effects or found sounds is meant to be contemplative, stately and melodic.   Each track is long and slow until the seventh track when the tempo is lifted.  Then we arrive at the absolutely stunning eighth and final number.  Initially it reverts back to the slow tempo of the first six numbers seemingly incorporating musical motifs from the preceding tracks.  As it proceeds, the tempo starts a gradual increase driven, it seems, by Jonsi’s impeccably controlled vocals.  The intensity increases until it explodes into a jarring two minutes of controlled guitar chaos that borders on heavy metal until it comes to a screeching halt.  The same mysterious noise from the start is the last sound heard, suggesting this is a continuous piece of music intended to be played on a loop.  It is in my mind their masterpiece.

10 June 2013 (Day 161) – Happy Iggy’s Birthday!

It’s a public holiday today for the Queen’s Birthday.  The Queen as in Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and the Head of State of the Commonwealth of Australia. 

Now I’m a Republican, as in an Australian favouring we become a republic.  Nothing enrages my national sensibilities more than hearing monarchists here argue Australia doesn’t need to become one because we already have an Australian Head of State in the Governor-General.  The G-G is the Queen’s representative.  A substitute.  And so it is with this public holiday.   The second Monday on June is not the Queen’s actual birthday.  It’s just the day we celebrate it.  Given Her real birthday is 21 April,  the same as that for Iggy Pop, I’d like to have my own regal substitute.  So Happy Iggy’s Birthday everyone!

To celebrate Iggy’s Birthday, “M” and I went into town for a huge feast but not before I squeezed in one album:

(# 419)  Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion (2009)

One of the most lauded albums released in recent years is still a bit of a mystery to me.  Certainly it starts off at a cracking pace.   In The Flowers, is a suitably enigmatic and psychedelic opener which gives way to My Girls with its distinctive Beach Boys derived sound and vocals,  a vibe that is continued by Also Frightened.  The rest of the album sounds very much like the Beach Boys covering Flaming Lips B-sides and outtakes. 

After lunch, “M” and I headed into town to take advantage of the mid-year clearance sales going on.  I strike music gold at, of all places, the David Jones Department store where I discover just about all CDs in what appeared to be a dwindling stock was marked to 50% off.  A run out perhaps?  I purchased about 5 discs and after returning home mange to play two of them starting with:

(# 420) Skyhooks – The Collection [disc 2 only]  (compilation 1999)

Skyhooks were easily the most important Australian band of the 1970s being the one that convinced record music execs that local product,  containing explicit references to Australian locations and themes, could sell in really big numbers and thus justify signing more than a couple of token acts to the major labels.  The Collection is one of a number of compilations that have been released and does a reasonable job of filleting through their first 4 albums whilst Graeme “Shirley” Strahan was their lead singer. But I have those albums and I bought this solely for the second disc which consists of music recorded in 1990 and 194 for a reunion album with Strahan that was never released.  Three of the 11 tracks were released as singles; Jukebox In Siberia was a catchy no. 1 hit in 1990 that hasn’t lost its charm.  Tall Timber was reasonable but Happy Hippy Hut left me cold.   There’s a couple of promising tracks in the remainder, especially My Girleen which sounds like a tribute to the Hoodoo Gurus, but unfortunately are testament to their wisdom in not released them as a separate entity.

(#421) Paul Simon – Graceland (25^th anniversary extended version) (1986/2012)

This will be forever remembered as the album which popularised “world music” to the extent that it could be seen as a viable genre.   I’ve always loved how the different musical styles on this album – the various streams of South Africa music, zydeco and Los Lobos’ unique brand of rock – all somehow meshed together musically but then contrasted against Simon’s lyrics and delivery.   And yet, there’s something not quite right about this rerelease.  Many of the songs sound very different to how I remember them.  It’s a complaint I have about so many of the reissued and remastered classic albums over the last 10 years or so; every note suddenly becomes crystal clear and in the process the music loses a lot of its mystery.  I find this incredibly distracting; I don’t want to hear each and every instrument in pristine sound separate from each other in much the same way that I hate watching remastered classic American sitcoms on High Definition digital clarity that rams home the fact you’re watching a set on a sound stage.  My other complaint is the additional tracks – all demos or unreleased versions as well as Simon himself talking about how the title track came to be written – tacked onto the end of the album.  They’re nice to hear but with an album as perfectly structured and arranged as this, they do ultimately detract from the finished product.  My version of the album also contains a DVD with the Under African Skies documentary and the videos that were released.  Having said all that, it is still the album that contains The Boy In The Bubble, Graceland, Homeless, You Can Call Me All and the Los Lobos track with the title that’s too long to repeat here, and as such deserves to be celebrated.

8 & 9 June 2013 (Days 159/160) – David and Dave

Despite extravagant sleep ins,  I found myself with sufficient time to listen to all three of the recent releases I bought on Friday as well another that had arrived from overseas.

(# 415) The Strokes – Comedown Machine (2013)

The first Strokes album, Is That It, was the product of a youthful band showing off their ability to knock off three minute new wave-ish gems.  Clearly they do not what to be accused of endlessly repeating the formula and have shown the urge to grow.  However, the most successful tracks on this, All The Time, Partners In Crime and Happy Ending are those that still remind me of that debut.  The problem appears to be here is that their sense of growth now seems be defined by putting a modern twist on 80’s song structures.  One Way Trigger appears to have been inspired by A-ha, whilst Tap Out and Welcome To Japan both seem to contain strong New Order touches and Chances contains fairly generic 80’s keyboard flourishes.  Rather than looking to the past, perhaps the band should trust their instincts and look to the future as they do on the ballad which closes the album, Call It Fate Call It Karma.

(# 416) David Bowie – The Next Day (2013)

Bowie, on the other hand, has reinvented his sound and image so many times that I think he gets confused who he is/was.  That’s why this album comes as such a surprise.  The lazy, amended version of the “Heroes” album packaging suggests that the music would be very much in same vein as that recorded in Berlin during the 70’s; instead what we have is a confident set of, for Bowie, straight ahead rock songs set to typically inscrutable lyrics.  Tracks are of a uniformly high quality, Bowie seemingly content to let the listener luxuriate in this unexpected comeback.  Then, just before the end of the album, he unleashes the twin bombs of How Does The Grass Grow? and (You Will) Set The World On Fire.   Both tracks, throwbacks to the catchy skewered rock on albums like Lodger and Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) are positioned to take you completely by surprise and keep you off balance.  The message?  Don’t count me out just yet.  

(# 417) Sleep – Dopesmoker (2003)

Sleep were one of the pioneers of what became known as stoner rock.  The album is called Dopesmoker and, when originally released, consisted solely of the title track which runs for 63 minutes and 34 seconds.  Or, put another way, 1 hour, three minutes and 34 seconds.  Do I need to say anything else?   If I was lazy – or stoned, dude – I’d leave it at this.  Actually, it’s an intricately constructed piece of music which, as a photograph included in my reissue copy of the album reveals, is no meandering jam.  My only complaint about it is that the main riff used to drive the piece and as a form of interlocking device between its sections is fairly undistinguished and this prevents the piece from scaling the heights that it really would have otherwise.  My reissue contains a second track, a poor quality, probably audience recorded, 11 minute live performance of Holy Mountain.

(# 418) Sound City – Real To Reel (2013)

This is the soundtrack to Dave Grohl’s documentary about the Sound City studios in California where, as a member of Nirvana, Nevermind was recorded.  To tell the history of the studio Grohl invited musicians who had recorded there (and some others) to record a new track with him, more or less on the spot within 24 hours.  It’s a great concept but unfortunately, it would appear that Grohl may have exercised too much control over the songwriting process with just about every track sounding like the Foo Fighters.  Only two tracks buck the trend.  One is the final track, Mantra, where Grohl deals with even the greater forces of Josh Homme and Trent Reznor.   The other is the absolutely brilliant rocker Cut Me Some Slack where the surviving members of the final version of Nirvana – Grohl, Krist Noveselic and Pat Smear – are joined by none other than Paul MacCartney. 

7 June 2013 (Day 158) – Aussie Albums 1979-1986

It is hard to work on the day before a long weekend.  Not that “M” and I have made any plans.  Actually we had made plans to use the long weekend as the start for a week’s vegetation on an island somewhere in the Pacific but her operation put paid to that.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.  There’s still a day’s work to negotiate which I throw myself into with gusto.  After work I collect “M” and we head off into the long weekend.  First stop is a shopping centre where I buy my weekend listening.  From there we head off to “M”’s sister for dinner.  In between starting work and getting to dinner, I’ve ended up playing six albums, all by Australian acts and all released between 1979 and 1986. 

For me this was a great era in Australian music.  The live scene in Melbourne was booming, FM stations that played album tracks were on the air, quality music shows were on TV, albeit late at night, and not many of the big overseas bands were coming to Australia.  This enabled punters to save their money to buy more records and, more importantly, support the local industry by going to gigs.  At this time we were in no doubt whatsoever that Australian acts could match it with the world’s best and it was felt that it would only be a matter of time before these acts would conquer the world.   

None of the acts I played today did indeed conquer the world. A couple of these did fairly well and just about every act that didn’t was able to carve out a niche somewhere in the world marketplace.  Listening to these albums again, I don’t think the music was much at fault although I think the production values were on occasion a little on the thin side. 

But looking back I think I can explain why.  My theory is the Australian acts that have made it reasonably big have usually been those with something different to offer at the time or were seen as a replacement for something that was relatively scarce.  Let’s face it, no one in the world comes close to offering what AC/DC does.  Nick Cave is probably viewed overseas as unique as is most likely The Avalanches, Goyte and the Dead Can Dance.  The Little River Band hit big in the States because The Eagles took such a long time between albums and Men At Work were one of the first bands to hit big through their ability to project a persona via their early videos.  Kylie Minogue had the advantage of her Neighbours popularity (the Aussies soap opera being something the Brits actually crave) to launch her attack on the British market as did Delta Goodrem.    

Ultimately I think that the world’s response to Australian music is a little bit its response to anything we produce; in other words it will be mass consumed only if the overseas marketplace sees a need for it.  For the British and American music marketplace, why would someone in say Leeds or Kansas City choose to buy a record by an Australian act when there are other artists in their home country producing the same style of music?  If so, I think that’s a shame as there is a great deal of fine music out there just waiting to be discovered,  such as;

(# 409) Midnight Oil – Place Without A Postcard (1981)

For a micro second during the 80s it did appear that the Oils were going to take over the world but ultimately I think they were just too Australian and confrontational  in outlook for the world’s music lovers and, let’s face it, Peter Garrett’s voice really is an acquired taste.  Place Without A Postcard is just about my favourite Midnight Oil album.  It is extremely parochial in outlook, especially over the original vinyl side 2 which contains Burnie, Quinella Holiday, If Ned Kelly Was King and Lucky County, all song titles rich in meaning to Australians and probably no one else.  It’s also the album that contains Garrett’s least convincing vocal performances, the a capella start to Love’s On Sale being a particular low point.  Additionally the production by Glyn Johns has its critics as being a little on the thin side.  And yet all of these factors have conspired to produce a great record.  Vinyl Side 1 contains the flat out rockers Don’t Wanna Be The One and Someone Else To Blame, the mid tempo Brave Faces that continually builds in intensity before culminating in barely controlled chaos and the sombre Armistice Day.   The Australian tracks along with Love’s On Sale on Side 2 basically amount to a suite about the 1980s Australia that is still relevant today.  Lucky Country is as good a summation on Australian life as has ever been committed to vinyl.

(# 410) The Celibate Rifles – Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang (1986)

The Celibate Rifles (the title is basically the opposite of Sex Pistols) are unquestionably my favourite Australian band.  This is the first of two live albums on the market, this one a recording of a show at CBGB’s in New York City in 1986 and showcases tracks from their first four albums.  The Vinyl Side 1 of this album contains the most hair raising punk you’re ever likely to hear as the twin guitars of Dave Morris and Kent Steedman go for broke.  Back In The Red is a ferocious opener, with the band barely stopping its attack as it careens into Temper Temper and JNS.  Pretty Colours features a scorching intro before settling down into a pleasing mid-tempo grove.  Nether World picks up the pace again and Some Kinda Feeling brings the side to an raging conclusion.  It is about as perfect a side of live music as you would ever want to hear.  Side 2 pales a little in comparison but does contain covers of City Of Fun (The Only Ones) and Burn My Eye (paying its stylistic debt to Radio Birdman).  Covers are a Rifles live speciality and an album full of those – especially their awesome take on Donna Summer’s Hot Stuff – would be greatly appreciated.  In a word, essential.

(# 411) Hunters & Collectors – Hunters & Collectors (1982)

This was the debut album for this Melbourne band that took their name from a track by German experimental band Can.  Their early albums, and especially this one, sees them trying to mesh 70s German (i.e “Krautrock”) song structures with heavy doses of percussion and Australian pub rock.  (After all they needed to have something that would enable bookings in Melbourne’s band venues.) For the most part the results are incredibly successful and surprisingly melodic, especially on the opening track, and unlikely hit single, Talking To A Stranger.  Alligator Engine and Skin Of our Teeth are very much in the same vein and Boo Boo Kiss betrays a debt to The Birthday Party.  But ultimately everything bows down before the mighty 9 minute closer, Run Run Run, where jerky post punk guitars, claustrophobic percussion and sheer melody all collide to magnificent effect.  Strangely, the next album, when they employed the producer most associated with Krautrock, Conny Plank, was nowhere near as effective.   Nevertheless this debut set the foundations for a two decade career and a formidable reputation as one of this country’s finest ever live acts.

(# 412) The Saints – The Monkey Puzzle (1981)

This was the fourth Saints album and the first without the mercurial Ed Kuepper and his patented buzz saw guitar sound.  Lead singer Chris Bailey was then free to pursue his vision of the band and with this release moved the band away from the raw punk on the early albums to a much more melodic slightly poppier sound.  It is one of the most overlooked Australian albums containing a number of gems including Let’s Pretend, the magnificently catchy In The Mirror, Simple Love and a ramshackle version of Dizzy Miss Lizzy to end proceedings.

(# 413) Ed Kuepper – Electrical Storm (1985)

After leaving The Saints, Kuepper formed The Laughing Clowns and released three great albums of jazz influenced rock.  Electrical Storm is his first solo album and sees him fronting a trio alongside pianist Louis Tillet and drummer Nick Fisher.  The album introduced a number of tunes that were to remain staples of the Kuepper live set for a long time including Car Headlights, Told Myself and the wandering title track.  When The Sweet Turns Sour also shows Kuepper’s mischievous streak incorporating snatches of what appears to the theme to Spiderman cartoon series.  It proved to be a nice low key introduction to a long and fruitful solo career, although he is today a member of Nick Cave’s Bad Seeds.

(# 414) Mondo Rock – Primal Park (1979/extended version 2009)

What’s this doing here?  I suspect anyone asking that question only has memories of the top 40 mainstream pop band this act mutated into.  But this is a rather wonderful debut set of footstomping rock, all overseen by one of Australian rock’s true pioneers, Ross Wilson.   The original album was split between a studio A side and a live B side.  Question Time, Searching For My Baby and the title track dominate the studio side all catchy tunes with taut guitar work and excellent vocals from Wilson.  The live side shows an unexpected tougher side to Wilson’s work although closer Live Wire – The Mondo Showdown is probably longer than needs be.   The extended version, released by Aztec Records brings together the singles which preceded the album’s release, including the great The Fugitive Kind, and additional though less impressive live tracks.