30 August 2013 (Day 242) – Sandinista!

I couldn’t be bothered having to go through the bother of selecting a theme or albums for todsay and so decided to immerse myself in a single work.  Thus it came to be that I ploughed through one of my favourite triple albums:

(# 570) The Clash – Sandinista! (1980)

In some respects, Sandinista! is very much like George Harrison’s mighty All Things Must Past being that each album combines an initial double album of brilliant new material and a third disc of more experimental stuff.  In both cases, I’ve always been intrigued by the third disc but ultimately felt that these have done both artists a huge disservice in obscuring the sheer brilliance of the two discs.  Had only these discs been released, it is no doubt in my mind that both double albums would today be regarded as out and out masterpieces. 

In terms of Sandinista!, I would go a step further.  Track by track, the first two discs are more consistently brilliant than London Calling, their acknowledged masterpiece.  Although both albums are sprawling epics, the tracks on Sandinista! appear to share more of a theme.  The way I hear it, the album seeks to make sense of Britain’s declining place in the world as revolutions in third world nations start to take root (as clearly heard in tracks such as The Call Up, The Equaliser and Washington Bullets) in the face of American political and cultural dominance (refer to tracks such as Hitsville UK, Junco Partner, Ivan Meets GI Joe and Something About England.)  As such, the album incorporates a great deal of what we could now describe as “world music”, incorporating reggae and dub, calypso, gospel, jazz and soul elements.  More importantly the album’s rockers such as Somebody Got Murdered and Police On My Back hit harder than anything on its predecessor. 

The third disc is fairly ramshackle and this might very well have been the point.  Containing a number of dub versions of tracks for the first two discs, and tracks like Version City, Kingston Advice and The Street Parade, this disc seems to be referring to the chaotic state of displaced persons either within their own nations or as poor immigrants to the United Kingdom where chances for what Australians would call “a fair go” a either fairly limited or non existent (Career Opportunities). And this sense of chaos comes across most forcefully in the, unfortunately, close to unlistenable, Mensforth Hill which is Something About England played backwards with dubs placed on top. Overall, the entire package is an album that has fascinated me for decades, and will continue to do so for a long time.  The next time race riots erupt in Britain, take out this album and play it and a great many things will suddenly become clear.

29 August 2013 (Day 241) – Two Turntables A Microphone And 2 Albums

With lots of things happening at work today, opportunities to play stuff were rather limited. As I started on my daily iPod scroll, it dawned on me that I’ve haven’t played much rap or hip hop. 

I’m not entirely sure why so many rock fans appear to hate rap or hip hop.  From what I’ve observed it would appear this is based on an assumption that somehow the music is not capable of being played live because there are no instruments involved or as Beck put it on Where It’s At, “I’ve got two turntables and a microphone”.   In other words, because the music is mostly voice and found sounds, it is somehow not authentic.

Such a view, if I’ve interpreted it correctly, doesn’t make much sense to me.  Certainly the early rappers such As Afrika Bambaattaa, the Sugarhill Gand or RUN-DMC didn’t use much in the way of instruments at all.  But how does this differ all that much from barbershop quartets, doo-woppers,  60’s social protest acts such as the Last Poets or in 70’s Britain and beyond, the inspired work of John Cooper Clarke.   There were also the 70’s Jamaican “toasters” such as I-Roy, Sound System DJs who released tracks of them doing their routine over popular reggae numbers released by other acts.  And yet these acts seem to be celebrated rather than dismissed.

If anything the early rappers were arguably smarter than these other form of mostly acapella music in that their lyrical constructs were made up live on the spot in response to those around them.  One of the most educational and, it must be said memorable, musical experiences I’ve had was when I caught about 30 minutes of an Afrika Bambaattaa set at a Big Day Out.  On stage, was Afrika and about another 25 or so would be rappers, two turntables and a single microphone.  The DJ sampled away as the mic was passed from rapper to rapper who built on the number.  Indeed go to any number of European countries and you will find many of these will have a “folk music” tradition which basically involves older members of the community telling sad or funny stories which, if performed over music at all, will probably be some form of established traditional number.  And then there is “The Blues” as expressed by African American slaves and later sharecroppers who were essentially giving voice to their situation with minimal, if any, musical backing.   But all of this is irrelevant when considering present day rap/hip hop which has expanded beyond its origins with many acts today, The Roots being the best example, utilising instruments on record and in live performance.

The other thing that appears to routinely ignored by critics of rap who bemoan the use of instrumentation, is how a great many rock acts through history have constructed classic tracks by simply placing voice over found sounds.  The Beatles with their use of tape loops, such as on Tormorrow Never Knows, or on Being For The Benefit Of Mister Kite did this.  Massive soundscapes or effects used as the backdrop to many prog rock pieces also fall under the same category.  And if all that isn’t enough, where do tracks like The Verve’s Bittersweet Symphony fit, with a backing consisting solely of a sample of previously recorded music repeated for its duration.

Once you accept that the creation of music from found sources or sampling is a valid way of creating music, there is much to explore and enjoy in the world of rap and hip hop.  Due to today’s limited opportunities, I’ve ended up playing a rap/hip hop album with rock influences as well as a rock album that incorporates hip hop techniques.

(# 568) The Beastie Boys – Hello Nasty (1998)

I was a massive fan of this album when it was originally released, although I now know it was then premature to rank this as the equal of Paul’s Boutique, Check Your Head or Ill Communication.  The opening few tracks are fairly unremarkable by their lofty standards but the quality of the album starts to increase with the hits Body Movin’ and the hugely underrated Intergalactic.    This leads to a number of old school style rap tracks that anticipate the direction they were to take on their next full length album before ending in a brace of slower numbers including the reggae influenced Dr. Lee Ph.D and  the lullaby instrumental Death.

(# 569) Beck – Odelay (1996)

Beck Hansen first started to attract mainstream notice with his previous album Mellow Gold and hit Loser but it was this that really put him on the map.  It has also defined his career in a sense as subsequent albums have seen him deliberately seeking to step back from this level of general acclaim.  This album incorporates a brilliant melange of styles ranging from the neo soul of Devil’s Haircut, the hip hop masterpiece Where It’s At, the country styling of Sissyneck , the Beastie Boyesque thrash of Minus and the beat heavy The New Pollution.

28 August 2013 (Day 240) – Interesting Concepts

Everyone has ideas.  Some are good others are bad.  Then there’s this blog which I fear fits under the category, “Good idea at the time”.  In my defence, it was the product of a clearly focused mind operating at maximum capacity completely unfettered by any negative thoughts.  Or, put another way, the idea came to me whilst I was on holiday and I didn’t think through the ramifications of my bright idea.  Don’t get me wrong; writing this blog has been a satisfying experience but I didn’t count on the strain of finding a different angle for each day, the need to set aside time to write my posts or the ever present fear I would accidently play an album I’ve already played this year. 

This was my thought process this morning as I struggled to think of an album to kick start my day.   As I scrolled through my iPod artist list, I came across a band that is practically one of a kind.  I wondered how this band came together and wondered whether it was the product of a deliberate thought process.  Irrespective of how this occurred, I concluded that at some stage, someone must have thought “Mmm. Interesting concept”.  Certainly I did when I first heard about and then heard;

(# 564) Morphine – Cure For Pain (1993)

Morphine was a band that comprised a 2 string slide bassist, a saxophonist and a drummer.  They recorded about four albums of what could only be described as propulsive low hi alternative epics topped off by the distinctive deep vocals of bassist Mark Sandman.  Cure For Pain is their best album and showcases a remarkable diversity of tunes, highlighted by the turbocharged Thursday, the extremely smooth title track and the hit that should have been Sheila.  Unfortunately, Sandman died in 1999 but not before leaving some of the most intriguing music ever recorded.

(# 565) The Polyphonic Spree – Live From Austin, Texas (2004)

Take a band, add a horn section, add a 12 person choir, dress everyone in flowing robes and record songs that sound like an indie version of the Hair soundtrack and you have The Polyphonic Spree.  Live From Austin Texas is a CD of a DVD of their appearance on the show of the same name, which cherry picks the best tracks from their first two albums, The Beginning Stages Of and Together We’re Heavy.  The result is a show that is almost impossible to resist especially with such trippy and relentlessly “happy” tracks such as It’s the Sun, Two Thousand Places and the epic closer When The Fool Becomes A Man.  If you ever feel the urge to torment a Goth, put this on and which ‘em squirm.

(# 566) Dread Zeppelin – Live.  The Song Remains Insane (Disc 2 only) (1998)

Just how do I put this?  Dread Zeppelin is a Californian band that, at this stage of their career, played reggae versions of Led Zeppelin songs with vocals courtesy of their lead vocalist Tortelvis, an overweight jump suited Elvis Presley impersonator.  Apparently this album of live recordings was only released in Australia, but I only play disc 2 which mostly consists of a 3JJJ Live At The Wireless studio gig.  And it’s a hoot.  A version of Las Vegas era Elvis See See Rider kicks off proceedings leading into their peerless covers of Immigrant Song, Black Dog, and Heartbreaker.   A couple of self penned songs, Do The Claw and the hiliarious Big Ol’ Gold Belt continue things marvellously before Viva Las Vegas provides an appropriate closer.  Non JJJ tracks on this disc includes a version of Crosby Stills and Nash’s Woodstock and a snippet from US radio were Robert Plant rang in during a live Tortelvis interview.

(# 567) Hayseed Dixie – A Hillbilly Tribute To AC/DC (2001)
In case you misread the above, yet me repeat that this album consists of bluegrass versions of AC/DC tunes.  For the most part they sound fine, Highway To Hell, You Shook Me All Night Long, Hell’s Bells and Money Talks faring best.  There really isn’t much else to report other than to say that if you like this, try Beatallica, a Canadian band that plays Beatles songs, Metallica style.

27 August 2013 (Day 239) – Some Of My Most Played Albums

The Spiritualized live album I played yesterday is one of the heavily played items in my entire collection.  My idea for today’s playlist was to play some of the other albums that I frequently play.

The term “frequently” needs to be defined and qualified here.  After all, anyone keeping track of this blog will realise that I’m not in the habit of playing the same album many times in a row.  Or twice even.  But there are albums that are guaranteed to get a minimum of one play each and every year and a select few that got a flogging for a considerable period of time after I first obtained them.  Some albums fit both definitions.  These are also some of the albums that I will invariably turn to on those rare days where I cannot settle on anything to play. 

On so on a day spent almost exclusively behind my desk, here is a selection of what are effectively some of my favourite albums.

(# 558) Camper Van Beethoven - Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart (1988)

This is a rare example of a fiercely indie band making the dreaded leap to a major record company …. and then releasing their very best album.  Incredibly the band did not shy away from shovelling all forms of musical influences into their wonderfully crazed songs; if anything they went out of their way to celebrate this with a batch of truly memorable and unique numbers.  It starts with the up tempo Eye Of Fatima (Part One) a wonderfully descriptive and hilarious romp about, I think, Government agents watching the effects of acid tests on unsuspecting cowboys holed up in hotel rooms. Part Two of the track that follows is an instrumental that I suspect tells the story from the victim’s addled point of view and is suitably deranged. O Death, a mournful version of the American traditional tune, seems as likely a choice as anything to follow that, leading into the absolutely inspired She Divines Water which undergoes a dizzying amount of time changes.  Turquoise Jewelry sees them using ska music to brilliant effect, Waka a demented instrumental based on Middle Eastern sounds and My Path Related is just about the most convincing up tempo rocker you’re likely to hear featuring a fiddle.  But the absolute highpoint is the closing trio of numbers; The Fool another instrumental that sounds like a theme for an evil clown, Tania, a love song to Patty Hearst (opening lyric: O my beloved Tania/How I love to see your face photographed at 15 second intervals/In a bank in San Leando) and the wonderful Life In Grand, a jaunty little number where the band scolds other bands for their dark takes on life.  

(# 559) Urge Overkill – Saturation (1993)

Saturation is a magnificent example of everything that was great about the American alternative scheme of the early 1990’s; simple catchy songs played with great intensity.  The slashing guitar dominated one-two punch of Sister Havana and Tequila Sundae started this album brilliantly.  Positive Bleeding and Crackbabies maintained this attack, Bottle Of Fur (complete with mid track vibes solo) provided pure melody and Nite And Day offered the last of a series of catchy hooks.  The slower numbers are all convincing and Heaven 90210 ended the bulk of the album (there’s a hidden track) on a memorable note incorporating, Love Is All Around, aka the theme to The Mary Tyler Moore Show.  It’s one of those albums that simply makes you want to replay it as soon as it finished and this has happened just about every single time I’ve played it (even today).

(# 560) Jo Jo Zep And The Falcons – Loud And Clear EP (1977)

(# 561) Jo Jo Zep And The Falcons – Screaming Targets untitled live disc (1979)

In the late 1970’s Jo Jo Zep And The Falcons ruled Melbourne’s pub scene with their absolutely heady mix of blues, soul and r&b.  Many people, myself included, felt the band never really got its sound down pat in the studio (the Screaming Targets album came close) but this was probably because they were such a potent live act more than anything else.  These release explain why.  Loud And Clear was their first live release and is sensational despite the basic live sound.  Side one comprises peerless covers of Joe Liggins’ The Honey Dripper, Don Covey’s Young Girl and the standard Aint Got No Money featuring some scorching guitar work.  Side two comprises band original, the infectious Girl Across The Street and Riding In The Moonliught.   The other item is a live disc that was released with the initial copies of Screaming Targets with tracks coming from a radio broadcast from a Melbourne pub venue before an absolutely rabid audience.  The band comes out spitting fire.  Opening cut is a raging version of Otis Redding’s Security which has barely ceased before the band charges into their best known number, So Young, a track recorded by Elvis Costello and The Attractions.  A fine Not A Woman Not A Man leads into a Creedence like makeover of Oh Mona.  Side two is devoted to a single track, the near 10 minute Cuthulu, an inspired blow out jam.  Neither of these releases has ever made it to CD but some of the tracks, including Cuthulu, are to be found on various compilations.  But I wanted the real things as originally intended.  To this date these two items are practically the only vinyl albums in my collection that I’ve had converted into digital form.  Can we have these, and the Let’s Drip Awhile album released this way?  Please!!

(# 562) Soundgarden - Superunknown  (1994)

This is Soundgarden’s masterpiece, one of the high water marks of the entire grunge movement and quite simply one of the finest hard rock albums ever released. My copy also spent the best part of its first 5 years in the six CD stack of my CD player.   70 minutes long and barely containing anything resembling filler, it contains an astonishing variety of material.  Let Me Drown and My Wave begin the album authoritatively.  Mailman, 4^th Of July and Like Suicide are fine homages to Black Sabbath.  Fell On Black Days and The Day I Tried To Live provided brilliant showcases for Chris Cornell’s never better vocals, Kickstand is an extremely short sharp rocker and Spoonman was an effective single.  As good as these tracks were, the album will forever be revered for its two spectacular set pieces.  The title track is an incredibly propulsive tune that maintains the momentum of a runaway train for its length but even that is topped by the magnificence of Black Hole Sun with its clear psychedelic influences and its wonderous climax of Cornell’s screaming and Kim Thayill’s epic soloing.  (We’ll just put its incomprehensible lyrics to one side.  OK?)

(# 563) Keith Richards – Talk Is Cheap (1988)

Superunknown may have lasted about 5 years in my CD player stack but this must have resided there for a decade.  Born due to his frustrations with getting Mick back to the Stones, he released this, the first of two solo albums.  Big Enough is a curve ball, a funky opener that no one could have possibly seen coming.  Take It So Hard follows, surely the greatest Stones number written by a Stone and not recorded by them.  I Could Have Stood You Up is the best Chuck Berry homage he’s ever committed to vinyl and Make No Mistake is a wonderfully tender ballad.  You Don’t Move Me proves why Mick should never mess with The Stones, or rather, Keith’s commitment to it.  Whip it Up is a grossly underrated rocker and the closing numbers of Locked Away and the seriously funky It Means A Lot wrap things up nicely.

26 August 2013 (Day 238) – Waiting For Bruce With J. Spaceman

It’s a big day.  Tickets for the 2014 Springsteen Australian Tour go on sale today and I’m on tenterhooks as I await for Mulder to advise me that he has obtained them.  In a fairer world, he should have got the tickets last Thursday when some presale tickets were made available to the online club associated with the tour promoter.  However, there was a limit of 4 tickets per transaction placed on these and a sibling of Mulder’s is coming lifting our number to 5. 

Eventually, Mulder rings to tell me that we’ve got reasonable tickets, closer to the stage than the March show at Rod Laver Arena, but about 10 rows higher.  Now the wait comes to see how quickly that show sells out before obtaining tickets, this time for just the two of us, for a second and any other subsequent shows.

Needing something to take the edge off, and mindful of the repetitive nature of my work today, I decided to inhabit the world of J. Spaceman (aka Jason Pierce). 

(# 556) Spaceman 3 – Performance (1988)

Pierce formed Spaceman 3 along with Peter Kember and specialised in an hypnotic form of psychedelica that incorporated drones in practically every track.  Tracks were invariably on the long and slow side but left a lot of room for variation ranging from light to touch pieces to incredibly loud guitar epics, kind of an English version of what Sun O))) were to eventually master.  Performance is a live recording that showcased loud guitars on almost every track.  The first three tracks, Mary –Anne, Come Together and Things’ll Never Be The Same lock together so tightly that they practically form a suite.  Other tracks provided an indication of what was to come with Pierce’s next band, Spiritualized; the epic 7 minute Rollercoaster appears to contain the seeds for that band’s live extravaganza Electric Mainline whilst the quieter, organ led Walkin’ With Jesus was to be transferred to their set in its entirety.  

(# 557) Spiritualized – Royal Albert Hall October 10 1997 (released 1998)

Pierce and Kember split acrimoniously during 1990 and the former remerged with Spiritualized.  Their initial albums, Lazer Guided Melodies and Pure Phase were received well by the English music press but it was their third album, the epic, Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Walking In Space that garnered worldwide plaudits and even a gold record.  Then this live album was released that contained the highlights of all three albums and effectively made them redundant. 

This is one of my favourite live albums of all time and just about the only one I can think of that seems to exist as a full blown artistic statement, as fully formed , structured and thought out than the most intricate of studio albums.  The opening 20 minutes is nothing short of spectacular.  An intro based on the hymn O Happy Day gives way to a noise storm that leads into Lazer’s delicate Shine A Light.  A looping Pink Floydish electronic collage heralds the start of Pure Phase’s Electric Mainline, an instrumental that keeps accelerating so that, by its end, the listener is exhausted only for the intense 3 minute rush of Electricity to completely finish the job. From there the album and performance is dominated by Ladies And Gentlemen tracks although Walkin’ With Jesus fits nicely into the mix.  On the run home a crunching Come Together (not the Spaceman 3 track I think) makes way for a 10 minute I think I’m Love and its 16 minute cousin Cop Shoot Cop complete with strings.  The show ends on a perfect note with a full on O Happy Day employing the band along with the string section and the 19 person London Community Gospel Choir.  In some respects the album is too perfect; I keep unrealistically measuring all Spiritualized albums against this instead of appreciating them for their own merits.

By the time this has ended Mulder has rung back and announced we’ve got tickets to a second Springsteen show.  I hope for a third show but it doesn’t materialise.  But I’m content.  I’ve heard one of my favourite live performances and I’ve tickets to see my favourite live performer.  Life is grand (and, for once, I know what album I’m playing first tomorrow).

24/25 August 2013 (Days 236/7) – The Miseducation of otis.youth (cont)

It was another weekend without opportunities to play music.  “M” and I splurged out on a massive dinner on Friday night, spent Saturday in recovery mode watching movies and devoted Sunday to the magnificent Monet exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria.   But never mind.  Friday’s playlist was a reminder that I better get a move on explaining how my musical taste developed and so here is:

Chapter Two*

By the time I started primary school, my taste had been set on its course by my father but lots of other forces were conspiring to thwart its progress.   Radio was fairly conservative.  At one stage there was even a ban on playing British and Australian music due to a dispute, I believe, on airplay royalty payments.  Television was even worse; as video clips had yet to be invented many hits from overseas artists were performed by local acts.  There was some great innovative stuff on TV such as GTK (an acronym for Get To Know) a weeknightly 10 minute show on the Government run ABC that focused on local acts (there’s lots of clips from it on YouTube) but this was a station we never watched. In any case it clashed with the nightly news bulletin on the commercial stations. 

I started to get a hint of the riches that lay beyond that dictated by my family existence in my last year at primary school.  One of my classmates had an older brother with an album collection and he started to secretly borrow items to bring to school to play on the classroom record player usually at lunchtime.  It was there that I heard for the first time a lot of the glam merchants including T-Rex, The Sweet and Gary Glitter.  I preferred all of these acts to David Bowie who’s Hunky Dory and Ziggy Stardust albums failed to make any real impression.  The early Alice Cooper albums were a revelation, but the record that really excited me was Lou Reed’s live album Rock And Roll Animal, especially the duelling guitars intro to Sweet Jane.   Simultaneously I started playing tennis against a classmate who I shall call Dave.  He too had an older brother but, more importantly, had access to the family’s magnificent stereo system.  Even today I still remember his demonstrations of some of the more sonically interesting items in his brother’s collection.  Dave was fond of the early Santana albums, especially Abraxas and Caravenserai, but the album I always begged him to play was Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side Of The Moon and, in particular, the track Time.

It was through Dave’s influence that I began to realise I needed a record player of my own.  My parents eventually purchased one which I had to share with one of my sisters.  Her musical taste – The Bay City Rollers, David Essex and others of that ilk - was never going to influence me much other than in solidifying my own instincts.  But I did need items to play.  The Sweet Singles Album was the first record I purchased, followed I think, by Ol’ 55’s Take It Greasy and, possibly, The Eagles Hotel California.   Albums were expensive but fortunately the cassette player had been invented and tapes were cheaper.  The following Christmas I received my own cassette player which I started to use to record tracks off the radio or television.  The tape that included my copy of The Saints (I’m) Stranded I recorded off a Countdown repeat was to be made on this device.  I also started to use the few albums I had to obtain more material; I’d tape, say, The Sweet Singles Album, for someone who would tape something from their collection for me in return.  This is how I obtained my first couple of AC/DC albums, The Beatles Blue Album (i.e the 1967-1970 compilation) and, of course, The Dark Side Of The Moon.

Secondary school opened my eyes even further.  It was here that I met my long time friends and comrades in music, Mickey, Mulder and Derek.  Musically speaking I bonded with Mickey first via our love of Skyhooks.  In my mind Skyhooks were, and still are, the single most important local music influence.  They played original quirky songs on local themes, had lyrics that meant something (especially when not goofing off into deliberately lyrically silly territory) and via their original main guitarist Red Symonds skirted with some exotic musical genres such as jazz.  Today, I know that my love of artists as disparate as Frank Zappa, Fountains Of Wayne, Squeeze or jazz influenced rock originated from this one source. 

It was with Mickey that I went to see what I think was my first gig - Skyhooks at The Princess Theatre.  (The other candidate was an AC/DC school holiday show with Bon Scott at my local Town Hall.) I remember aspects of the day clearly; one of our fathers drove us into the city and the other was waiting afterwards to take us home.  The show itself was a blur, the audience of teeny boppers probably made more noise than the band, but then again we were towards the back of the theatre.  Beforehand we were entertained by support band Stars, a local rock band with country leanings.  As it was an odd choice, the audience made far less noise and I was able to listen.  I was reasonably impressed (after all I was Johnny Cash fan so I was an “expert” on country) and felt that I’d made my first personal discovery.  As an aside, last year I was thrilled to finally buy a CD copy of their debut album Paradise which I promptly transferred onto my iPod; that first personal discovery is now always within reach.

The rise of Skyhooks was important for two reasons.  First it seemingly set off a real explosion in high profile high selling Australian acts among them hard rockers AC/DC, The Angels and Rose Tattoo, Melbourne’s r&b merchants Jo Jo Zep And The Falcons and The Sports, 50’s revivalists ‘Ol 55, Brisbane punks The Saints, Adelaide’s gutsy Cold Chisel and the country influenced Stars and The Dingoes.  Acts from New Zealand also started to gain my attention including the weird looking and sounding Split Enz, the futuristic sounds of Mi-Sex and the pop smarts of Dragon.  Australian music lovers started to think in terms of an Australian scene that could take its place on the world stage.

But, with the benefit of hindsight, I now think this was largely a mirage generated largely through the efforts of Ian “Molly” Meldrum, who came to be the face and host of Countdown. It was introduced in 1974 by the ABC just in time for the introduction of colour TV.  Placed in the plumb position of 6pm Sunday evenings, it held the nation captive until 1987.  Bands with personality, spunk and colour, like Skyhooks, were embraced wholeheartedly first by the show and eventually the Australian public.  Meldrum played the role of the pied piper to perfection, urging the audience to get behind the local industry, citing any sort of impact made on the world stage as evidence of an emergent musical force that was destined to take over the world.  Despite his undoubted sincerity, Meldrum had no alternative but to spruik the local industry.  If he couldn’t get the local industry onside he would have failed to find enough material to full out the program’s 55 minute running time.   Video clips had yet to make their mark and most Australian acts did not generate enough income to produce their own.  This meant that during the 70s, a typical Countdown episode would comprise those overseas acts that had released videos, local acts appearing live in the Countdown studios and an occasional appearance by whatever overseas act happened to be touring the country.  (It was via Countdown that I first saw Iggy Pop, miming to I’m Bored in the studio and conducting a hilarious “interview” with Meldrum.  This is also on YouTube.) 

Strangely, it was through Countdown and its reliance on video clips that I obtained my first exposure of anything smacking of alternative music and simultaneously to the most commercial material ever recorded.  The Saints were one of the few Australian acts that had produced a video and had refused to appear on the show.  It was for their first single (I’m) Stranded and as I wrote previously, it’s impact on me was electrifying but I didn’t know how to access this raw sound from any other source and it remained a form of one hit wonder.  Video clips also led Countdown to “discover” ABBA and, like most of the country, I fell under their spell, even purchasing their Arrival album.

But there was an alternative program that I started watching from 1977.  Nightmoves was, like Countdown, produced in Melbourne but was on the commercial Channel 7 on a Friday night and aimed directly at the serious music fan.  It was hosted by disc jockey Lee Simon who didn’t hype acts or talk down to his audience.  My first exposure to a whole range of acts started with that program starting with Steely Dan, whose Parker’s Band (from the album Pretzel Logic) provided the program’s musical intro.  I used to stay up until its starting time, roughly anywhere between 11pm and Midnight to hear Simon list the acts on the program during that intro.  Each episode contained a “special feature” which was usually about 30 minutes of music by the one artist, recorded live and probably sourced from British programs such as The Old Grey Whistle Test.  Often the choice of artist for the special feature would determine whether I would watch the entire program. 

Augmenting that was the album show on radio station 3XY overseen by the wonderful Billy Pinnell.  This went to air at 9pm on Sunday’s and Billy would simply play his favourite tracks from albums that had just been released.  For me it was the only forum on commercial radio where I could hear anything that was different but its late hour prevented me from taping tracks and I usually listened to it on a transistor under the blankets turned low so as not to interfere with anyone’s sleep.  By then, owing to a range of summer jobs, I had accumulated enough funds to purchase my first, and to date, only stereo.  An Akai system, I bought it at a shopping centre for about $500.  My mother argued against it but I knew I was investing in something that would last a lifetime.  The only component I’ve had to replace has been the cassette player as the heads were completely destroyed by years of taping and recording.   

Whilst this was a welcome development, my musical development was stagnating.  By the end of 1980, despite the efforts of Nightmoves and Billy Pinnell and my own instincts, Countdown was prevailing and the jolts I’d received courtesy of The Saints and a wild American called Springsteen  hadn’t provided me with sufficient confidence to buy or collect any of the new music to which I’d been exposed.  My idea of a rock band was The Eagles and that of a band pushing musical boundaries was the Electric Light Orchestra.  I went through a brief heavy metal phase but concluded so much of it sounded the same.  Another classmate who was into reggae loaned me his copy of Bob Marley’s Kaya, but I didn’t get it.  Unbeknownst to me, I was a prisoner of corporate music interests, intrigued by what was on the fringes, somehow willing only to purchase what was deemed to be popular.  I was, musically speaking, in dire straits, owning a copy of Sultans Of Swing, and mourning the death of John Lennon. 

Equally unbeknownst to me things were about to change.

* Chapter One forms part of my posting for 19 January.

 

23 August 2013 (Day 235) – The Battle Of The Divas

For rock pigs like myself, practically the musical term I despise most is diva.  It seems to me that the media today uses this term to describe any full voiced female vocalist who happens to court massive popularity and record sales.   But it also seems, at least to me, that these vocalists seem to misuse what are often God-given gifts in order to obtain this popularity.  For some reason it seems as though the (male dominated) record industry simply doesn’t know how to take these tools and use them to produce true works of art, settling instead on producing populist mush that is lapped up by the masses as though they’re some form of tranquiliser.

This seems to be a trend that goes all the way back to the greatest – and most listenable - diva of all, Aretha Franklin.  Her first real record label, Columbia Records, just didn’t seem to know what to do with this force of nature, seemingly attempting to mould her into a black version of Barbara Streisand.  It was only after she moved to Atlantic Records that her career took off.  Atlantic’s ploy was staggeringly simple; they ensured she had access to songs with which she felt some true empathy and then made sure sufficient control and musical accompaniment was imposed that allowed her to give true voice to her emotions whilst harnessing that power in the interest of the song.

It was a staggeringly successful approach.  But so has the approach of the last 20 years of so that gave rise to Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey and Celine Don among others.  All have (or in Houston’s case, had) magnificent voices that the public wanted to hear.  Yet they’ve been terribly easy to please.  Whilst Aretha’s audience refused to jump on board until the necessary adjustments were made, all the present day divas had to do was to thrill about at the upper ranges of their voices to impress.  It’s no coincidence that each of these women’s biggest hits, Whitney’s I Will Always Love You, that Titanic song of Celine’s and Carey’s impressive rendition of I’ll Be There are all numbers where their vocals were not allowed to show off and concentrated on the actual song.

From what I could hear, the failure to reign in these singers and the wannabees that have trailed in their wake, has had a number of major consequences.  First, many of the songs have been demolished by these voices.  The early Mariah Carey hits and most of Celine Dion’s are, in my view unlistenable today, owing to the songs falling apart under the eventual weight of all the vocal swoopings.  This, in turn, left the artists with precious little room to manoeuvre as they tried to stay relevant after their glory years and the audience tired of these vocal gymnastics.  Dion, for example, has effectively become a prisoner of Las Vegas; I suspect she knows she can maintain an audience there for past glories by putting on an elaborate floor show that disguises that changes that must be occurring to her voice.  It also prevents her facing the laws of diminishing returns if she were to continually release new studio albums or undertake world tours.  Whitney Houston attempted to do this and learnt the hard way.  Her live audience, seemingly with little or no knowledge about her private life or the gradual loss of power in her voice, arrived at her shows expecting the same vocal sounds of her younger days and generally did hold back on expressing their disapproval.  At least Mariah Carey had the good sense to change musical direction and attempt diversification into reality show judging, acting and motherhood.

Consequently, it should not come as any surprise that any of the present day divas figure in my collection or today’s listening.  I fitted in albums by three divas from the same era, each of whose careers have gone off into different directions.

(# 553) Lauryn Hill – The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill (1998)

Lauryn has not released an album since this and, as far as I’m concerned, doesn’t need to release another so securely is her place in music history due to it and her work in The Fugees.  Starting with a school roll call that establishes her absence, Hill produced a seamless album that, by rapping and singing about themes that are important to her, effectively tell her life story without having to give too much specific detail away.  This is a towering achievement by any measure blending most forms of black music along the way.  Even now, after owing the album for over a dozen years, I still cannot individualise its tracks.  Just put it on, let it wash around you and you’ll feel what I mean.

(#554) Macy Gray – Oh How Life Is (1999)

How times have changed.  When this album was released, it looked as though Hill had a major challenger for the crown.  And yet, despite a number of albums since, Gray hasn’t come close to matching this.  Indeed her last Melbourne performance a year or two ago was so roundly panned, that I doubt she’ll ever return.  That’s a shame because this album just had so much promise.  Caligula, the wonderful I Try, the crazed Sex-o-matic Venus Freak and the epic I Can’t Wait To Meetchu are showed different sides to someone who threatened to re define soul in her own image.

(#555) Queen Latifah – All Hail the Queen (1989)

The cover shows Queen Latifah at 19 years of age looking confident and all knowing. This, her debut album is so assured that I swore it was the work of someone much older.  No wonder she has since branched out into so many areas of the entertainment industry.  On this catchy album she makes the most of a number of collaborations.  Dance For Me is a memorable opener, deftly utilising her samples of Sly Stone’s Dance To The Music.  Mama Gave Birth To The Children sees her provide a female voice to what is otherwise a typical De La Soul track and Evil That Man Do is a socially aware number with Boogie Down Productions’ KRS-One.