14 November 2013 (Day 318) – Use Your Illusion[s] Revisited

My latest delivery of books from Better Word Books arrived yesterday from the States.  Among my purchases is a copy of Mick Wall’s biography of W Axl Rose, he of Guns N' Roses.

Although it will probably be a considerable period of time before I get around to actually reading Wall’s book, just looking at the cover was sufficient to remind me of the one time I saw the band play live.  It turned out to be their infamous gig at the Calder Speedway on the outskirts of Melbourne in 1993.  For once, the infamy wasn’t caused by either Rose or the band but for the appalling suffering imposed on most of the estimated 75,000 crowd.  On an incredibly hot and humid 38 degree celsius day in a venue utterly devoid of shade, punters were forbidden from bringing in their own food or drink into the venue only for organisers to charge exorbitant prices for junk food and water.  To make things worse, an afternoon storm drenched everyone and there was a nasty surprise for those who went by public transport who found themselves stranded in the city at midnight when the trains stopped for the night because the transport authorities refused to put on extra services.  When asked about it afterwards, I remember transport authorities blaming the fans for not leaving the show early and arguing that it was not their role to put on extra services for a rock concert. (It led to an Ombudsman's inquiry which was quite critical of the transport authorities.)   Fortunately, I was one of the lucky first 20,000 to who bought tickets which put me in the specially designed and spacious mosh pit.  This meant I could arrive later in the day (I was able to park my car at a colleague's place a few hundred metres from the venue), miss the downpour, and still not miss out on either Rose Tattoo or Skid Row’s set.  I also found that mosh pit holders were able to obtain free water provided you purchased a bottle of something else and kept the empty container. 

Three things redeemed the day.  One was Rose Tattoo’s blistering set to an indifferent audience largely ignorant of their influence on the headliners, the second was seeing Skid Row’s Sebastian Bach slipping on the wet stage and landing on his arse and the third was the Gunners’ over the top performance which showcased their then recent twin releases;

(# 711) Guns ‘n Roses -  Use Your Illusion I (1991)

(#712) Guns ‘n Roses -  Use Your Illusion II  (1991)

These two albums were released on the same day and, it’s fair, to say weren’t all that enthusiastically received at the time.    They certainly were not what the audience, primed for more of the hard rock mayhem of Appetite For Destruction, wanted.  Instead they got Dylan and McCartney covers, piano based ballads and even industrial metal spread out on albums that each was over 75 minutes long.  In retrospect it was simply too much music of a challenging nature (at least for Gunners’ fans) to absorb at once and the overblown video clip for November Rain added to the sense of a band that seemed to have lost its way.

And yet, this is not how I see these albums 20 years later.  Certainly, there is too much material here; 30 minutes could have been easily cut out of the combined releases but there is plenty to admire.  Illusuion I starts off magnificently.  Right Next Door To Hell is a blistering opener, Dust N’Bones a fine Izzy Stradlin contribution with some honky tonk sounding piano, a cover of McCartney’s Live And Let Die is suitably bombastic and the original version of Don’t Cry is an underrated ballad.  The rest of this disc is the most problematical of the two discs.   Some tracks, notably, You Ain’t the First and Bad Obsession sound like conscious attempts to copy the Stones circa Exile on Main Street, Back Off Bitch wastes strong music on stupid lyrics, The Garden is a solid enough ballad and the closing trio of Bad Apples, Dead Horse and Coma is pretty good.  And then there’s November Rain, a song that appears to be universally hated by fans and critics alike.  Personally, I think most people have reacted negatively to the video more than the song itself; stay away from it and the bloated live versions and what you have is a grand ballad with an epic sweep that incorporates and culminates in some of the most incredibly fluid soloing in Slash’s career.  It also would have benefitted from being placed at the end of the disc rather than at its midway point.

Illusion II is the better of the two albums.  It starts with the band’s undisputed high water mark.  Civil War is a magnificent tune incorporating inspired soundbites from the movie Cool Hand Luke, more impressive work from Slash and lyrics which, for once, actually meant something.  Little wonder that Rose’s vocals had never sounded so natural or committed.  14 Years gamely takes up the challenge of following it; Yesterdays is quite effective but their cover of Dylan’s Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door lacks the subtlety I heard in other versions.  Get In The Ring is notable for the band’s attack on a number of muso journalists (including Wall, I think) and Shotgun Blues is an exhilarating blast.   The final four tracks are uniformly brilliant.  Estranged justifies its length and unorthodox approach and acts as a superb introduction for the locomotive thrills of You Could Be Mine.  The alternative version of Don’t Cry improves on the original and the industrial sounds of My World just about signals the eventual dissolution of the band and the long, long wait until Chinese Democracy.  All in all these are albums worth revisiting.

 

13 November 2013 (Day 317) – 21st Century Hardcore, Texan Style

Still feeling uncomfortable being back at work, I thought I’d give vent to more personal frustration via my boom box.  Oddly, though strangely predictable in my fractured mind, it had an oddly calming effect and before long I found myself exploring the world of Texan rockers, At The Drive In and its two reasonably well known off shoots.

I first saw and heard At The Drive In when they appeared at the 2001 Big Day Out.  Their extremely frenzied and acrobatic performance kept me sufficiently mesmerized to follow their subsequent career.  Melbourne too fell under their spell with able support from community radio station 3RRR. Apparently the band members felt the same way; I once read an article that stated the band was considering moving from their hometown of Austin Texas to Melbourne, apparently impressed by the live music scene here.  I’m not particularly sure I believe this quote given Austin has a live scene that is better than ours and the more salient fact that the band broke up not all that long after I saw them.  Both of the main offshoot bands, Sparta and The Mars Volta, debuted here at subsequent Big Days Out and were greeted with even greater favour. 

What all three bands do brilliantly is play their own variation of hardcore with a passion that almost defies description.   That all three bands are able to do so utilising reasonably conventional song structures (well, not so much The Mars Volta!) and more than a degree of melody has resulted in some of the more adventurous and memorable music recorded this century starting with the final At The Drive In album;

(# 708) At The Drive In – Relationship Of Command (2000)

This is truly one of the best albums released during the last 15 years, a superb blending of sheer power, melody, intriguing lyrics and lots of little left field touches to keep the whole thing constantly interesting.  Arcarsenal and Pattern Against User forms a useful one two punch to open proceedings but are almost quickly forgotten as soon as the jerky start/stop intro to One Armed Scissor kicks in. It is one of those absolute classic slow verse/raging chorus tune that Nirvana loved but here is almost raised to an art form  especially with the repeated chorus chants of Cut Away/Cut Away/Send transmission from the one armed scissor.  I have absolutely no idea what it means but it is memorable and fun to chant along with.  It segues nicely into the equally schizophrenic Sleepwalk Capsules before the tempo, but not the intensity or power, is slowed by Invalid Letter Dept with yet another memorable chorus.  Mannequin Republic restores the manic pace before an eerie phone car heralds the throbbing bass and tom toms that power Enfilade, another slow/fast/slow/fast number. Iggy Pop guests to lend his vocals to Rolodex Propaganda and a lengthy Hollywood sounding intro leads into the heady Quarantined whilst Cosomonaut, Non-zero Possibility and Catacombs attempt to musically summarise the album in just three cuts.  

(# 709) Sparta – Wiretap Scars (2002)

After At The Drive In’s break up, drummer Tony Hajjar and bassist Paul Hinojos and guitarist Jim Ward and this was their full length debut.  The band’s sound is essentially that of a streamlined At The Drive In shorn of the left field excursions but keeping the essential power of the band. As a result, they come across as a slightly more commercially sounding version of hardcore veterans Fugazi.  Indeed of the tracks on this album, Air could pass for At The The Drive In while  Mye and Sans Cosm  could easily be mistaken for Fugazi.   Catacract and Red Alibi is the sound of the band finding its own style, whilst RX Coup adds a vague reggae sensibility and Echodyne Harmonic suggests band members had been listening to Krautrock.

(#710) The Mars Volta – De-loused In The Comatorium (2003)

The remaining members of At The Drive In, vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez formed The Mars Volta using the power of their previous band as the basis for what could only be described as a version of prog rock with hints of jazz.  They also attempted to bring some respectability to the notion of a concept album, this (their debut) apparently being about the degeneration of a mind due to drug use.  The lengthier tracks all hit the mark.  Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of) employs the ATDI slow/fast template to thrilling effect with some great percussion, ominous keyboards and an out there vocal by Bixler-Zavala.  Drunkship Of Lanterns  is early Santana retooled for the new millennium and the 12 minute Cicatriz Esp covers so much ground musically that by its end its scarcely believable it was contained within the one track.  Televators  slowed the tempo down effectively and the closing Take The Veil Cerpin Taxt could have fitted snugly on any number of 60’s Haight-Asbury albums.

12 November 2013 (Day 316) – Non-Expendable

It must have been an aftershock of having returned to work, but last night I found myself watching the Sylvester Stallone all-star action flick The Expendables.  One scene in the movie was soundtracked by a song I’d hadn’t heard for a while and, for once, I knew just what album I’d be playing first up today.

(#705) Georgia Satellites – Self Titled (1986)

The track I heard was this band’s best known track, Keep Your Hands To Yourself, a classic serve of Southern US rock topped off by the booming voice of Dan Baird.  Most of the rest of the album is very much in the same vein.  If you heard Keep Your Hands To Yourself, then Railroad Steel sounds exactly as you would image.  Battleship Chains has a thumping great tune and singalong chorus and was a deserved second hit; Can’t Stand The Pain is even better incorporating some stinging slide guitar and Nights Of Mystery slows things down just a touch to great effect.  As if to underscore the fact this is good time old fashioned rock band that would go down a treat in pubs just about anywhere in the English speaking world, the final track is a killer version of Rod Stewart’s Every Picture Tells A Story. 

(#706) Boris – Smile (2008)

Boris is a three piece band from Japan that makes very loud, feedback and drone drenched rock.  They are especially loved by just about any act that had ever experimented with such music;  I remember once reading a quote attributed to the late Lou Reed who proclaimed them to be the most important band in the world and they frequently attract other musicians to guest on their records.  This album starts with the mid tempo Flower Sun Rain that sort of lulls the listener into a false sense of security.  Buzz-In which follows immediately snaps the listener alert, a three minute rocker playing at maximum speed and overloaded with effects to the point of derangement.  Laser Beam is more of the same sans effects;  Statement wouldn’t sound all that out of place on albums by Australian alternative rockers such as God, The Powdermonkeys of The Hard Ons and My Neighbour Satan alternates between quiet moments and fuzz guitar orgies.  The ambitious  Ka Re Ha Te Ta Sa Ki (or No Ones Grieve) starts off with slow heavy riffling as if in tribute to label mates Sunn O))) before exploding into a wall of feedback, sung vocals, some effective heavy metalesque soloing and found sources.  But even this, and everything else on the album, is trumped by its final 23 minutes.  You Were Holding An Umbrella starts off as a slow gurgle with softly sung lyrics, faint drums and delicate touches.  Midway through its 8 minute length, a glorious guitar solo emerges, seemingly from nowhere, and the remainder of the track alternates between increasingly louder versions of its first half and the solo. It then segues into the brilliant closer identified only as [   ] on the album cover.  The opening section is reminiscent of first half of the previous track; about three minutes in the vocals start and the drumming becomes more assertive.  At the half way mark an incredibly loud and slow guitar line drops in and is repeated for the remainder of the track, seemingly getting slower and heavier as it proceeds until the track collapses into dark sheets of noise.  By the time the track has ended, the fact 15 minutes has elapsed barely registers such is its intensity.  It almost goes without saying that it’s one of my favourite pieces of modern music.

(#707) Portishead – Third (2008)

I played this next because when it was originally released I remember reading interviews by the band’s musicians Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley that the album was heavily influenced by their listening of experimental music by the likes of Boris, Sun O))) and Om.  After hearing just how radically this album sounded from their first two, I resolved to seek out these influences.  On the surface it is barely discernible but it requires a few listens.  It’s most clearly heard in We Carry On which carries a drone throughout its length as well as a number of repetitious elements occurring simultaneously creating a barrage of sound which eventually sucks in Beth Gibbons vocals.  Machine Gun employs a similar device although this seems to have also been filtered though some Krautrock influences as well.  But ultimately, this is an album that, whatever the influence, has a distinctive presence that marks them as one of the more creative acts in the English speaking world.

11 November 2013 (Day 315) – Working Man Blues

Ordinarily, I would think of today being either Memorial Day marking the end of World War I or the anniversary of the execution of the bushranger Ned Kelly (played in one movie version by none other than Mick Jagger) or the anniversary of the 1975 dismissal of Australia’s democratically elected Whitlam Government by Queen’s Elizabeth’s II non-elected representative, the Governor-General.  Today is non of those things, at least until 11 am when a statement over our PA system at work leads to a minute’s silence for the war dead.  Instead it represents nothing more than a return to work. 

Naturally there’s briefings to obtain, banked up emails to go through and a number of meetings to attend.  None of this, understandably, brings  any joy in the immediate aftermath of a holiday.  Feeling more than slightly aggrieved, I turn to my iPod for solace and select the band who’s very name expresses my sense of frustration:

(# 702) Rage Against The Machine – Live At The Grand Olympic Auditorium (recorded 2000/released 2003)

RATH’s studio albums have frustrated me because I can sense that within the grooves is a seriously hard rocking band whose impact is diluted somewhat by their production.  A monolithic wall of sound envelopes these releases denying the songs the light, shade, space, time and hence power to truly shine through.  My copy of the Sleep Now In The Fire CD single, though, contains about 4 live renditions of the band’s finest songs sequenced faultlessly and played with maximum passion and impact.  It greatly raised my hopes for this live document of their final shows after their initial break up.  Whilst it’s still my favourite album of theirs (it’s effectively a greatest hits album of their original tunes) and showcases the formidable band’s live power, I still get irked by the track sequencing.  The version of Bulls On Parade here is the perfect opener with snatches of a low key drone before impressively exploding into the actual track. Although there is nothing wrong with most of the tracks that follow individually, unfortunately the audience noise between tracks is kept for too long duration and many of the initial tracks all come with little intros of their own preventing the momentum from being built, let alone maintained.  Additionally, there is something wrong with the basic recording which lacks the extreme power that was captured on the single I mentioned previously; some of the tracks have a hollow sound where certain elements of the mix sound louder than the other almost as though you were at a gig that took place at Festival Hall. 

(# 703) The Cruel Sea – This Is Not The Way Home (1991)

This was the album in which the Cruel Sea hit upon the formula that saw them become one of the most popular local acts in recent years.  Originally a band that played instrumentals a la The Dirty Three they gradually integrated the vocals and songs of Beasts Of Bourbon front man Tex Perkins to the point that the sound expanded to include Dale Hawkins/Creedence/Tony Joe White swamp rock, melodica flavoured reggae Augustus Pablo like instrumentals , soul music, blues and straight out indie rock.  The opener It’s Alright (‘Cause She Likes Me) appears to merge most of elements at once; Baby is an Hawaiian flavoured ballad; Cry For Me sounds like a great lost Roy Orbison track taken to a different locale by Perkin’s ragged vocals and the title track likewise brilliantly takes surf music off the beaten track.  The instruments are fun too, notably closing track High Plains Drifter that somehow marries reggae and surf music influences.

(# 704) The Cult – Live Cult. London Marquee MCMXCI (recorded 1991/originally released in two parts 1993/released into current form 2000)

This album has a bizarre history, especially for Australians.   Half of this absolutely smoking live album was originally released with the Pure Cult compilation in 1993.  Fans were then invited to buy the rest of the show on a second disk by mail order.  At this point, I was not a Cult fan.  A few years later, I heard a BBC recording of an absolutely ferocious show from the same era that I fortunately taped.  By the time I got Pure Cult the window for buying the second part had closed but fortunately, the band’s Australian record company released a cut down version of the total show, with an emphasis on tracks from the second half, with The Cult’s self titled album.   Once I got access to a CD burner, I was able to assemble the track listing from the show which a decade later I imported into my iPod.  Although, I would love a digital copy of the BBC performance I have on tape, this is the ultimate Cult album with their best tracks , up to but not including the Sonic Temple album, played at maximum volumes.  The opening trio of tracks Nirvana, Lil’ Devil and Spiritwalker sees the band takes charge from the start and barely let up.  Subsequent  tracks include a raging Zap City, Revolution, Love, Rain and the killer finish of She Sells Sanctuary, Love Removal Machine, Earth Mofo and Fire Woman.  I suspect that had the band released this instead of the compilation in 1993, things might very much had turned out differently.  

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

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

As seasoned overseas travellers, we’re used to making full use of the various entertainment options on board a plane.  But this is a relatively brief flight of only three hours and so our choices are somewhat limited. Whilst our plane doesn’t contain the back of seat entertainment system I love using on overseas flights, Virgin did provide (and at no cost too – bravo!) iPads loaded with options including movies and complete albums.

I’ve yet to spend quality time on a plane listening to music.  I suspect this might be due to the fact that the playing time of a complete album or the specific song lists the airlines market as radio stations doesn’t take up a great amount of time.  When I’m on 13 hour leg, say Singapore to Frankfurt, I want to be totally immersed in something that not only makes me forget I’m on a plane but also eats up a significant period of time by the time that period of immersion has ended.  Believe me it’s almost better than sleep.  And so, I pass up the opportunity to listen to the new Queens Of The Stone Age album, among others, in favour of the magic/crime caper Now You See Me.

My ploy works.  By the time the movie finishes, I can see we’re flying over the Northern Queensland coastline and point out locations such as Mission Beach to “M” who has never been to this part of the world.  After landing we get into our car and begin the 70 kilometre drive to our ultimate destination, Port Douglas which contains a stunning 35 km stretch alongside the sealine.   We cruise into town, load up on some tasty calamari and then find our hotel.  The remainder of our time is spent either alongside the pool, eating, walking on the 4 Mile Beach and exploring the nearby area, taking in the Daintree Rainforest, Cape Tribulation, Mossman Gorge,  the Atherton Tablelands, Kurandra, Palm Cove and Cairns.  There was also a memorable – at least for me - sunset cruise on a catamaran.

Although I took my iPod with me, I end up barely using it at all.  I suspect this was due to the weather which during each day peaked around the 30 degree Celsius mark with barely a hint of rain.  When faced with weather like that I have a tendency to want to vegetate and lay on couches or beds watching stuff.  Even when engaged on my selected holiday reading (see below), I didn’t use the iPod, possibly fearful that the combined act of reading and listening whilst on holiday would be too much for my out for lunch brain to cope.

But there was another reason and, no, it’s not just because “M” was with me.  Rather, Port Douglas comes with its own built in soundscape which anyone would be a fool not to adopt as their temporary soundtrack.  Basically the town stretches back from the tip a peninsula which juts out into the Coral Sea.  The developers appear to have left as much of the basic vegetation as they could and a significant number of the hotels and resorts are placed so that they’re within 100 meters or so of the 4 Mile Beach.  This means, assuming one isn’t locked into an iPod, the sound of the sea rolling into the beach is an ever present with the birds flying in and out of the treetops adding to nature’s symphony.  In that environment, I can understand how anyone can be demotivated to listen to anything resembling loud music.  That evidently includes rock stars; Port Douglas is a favourite spot for touring overseas rock acts to spend a week or so after the rigours of their tour.

It therefore came as no surprise that whatever music I did get to hear – usually background music in pubs or restaurants or the times I did listen to the hotel or car radio - could be easily described as chill out music.  The noisiest track I heard during the entire period was in hippy haven Kunandra when Steely Dan’s Rikki Don’t Lose That Number came on, certainly the only time I’ll ever be tempted to head bang along to that tune.

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

The end of the trip came all too soon.  I finally pulled out my iPod at Cairns airport when our return Jetstar flight was delayed.  There were no movies on the return home as Jetstar charges $12 for the privilege and so “M” contented herself by going through the 450 odd photos we’d taken and I wrapped up my holiday reading.

(Book 2) Prince by Matt Thorne (2012)

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

Essentially, the thrust of Thorne’s overview is that Prince’s creativity peaked with the Lovesexy album and subsequent tour.  Since then Thorne infers that Prince has been compromised since then, obsessed with attempting to find new ways to distribute his music without having to overly rely too much on record companies.  Initially someone who embraced new media and the internet as such a means to do so, Prince has now turned his back on the latter having closed down the websites he had created, thus explaining why there hasn’t really been any new product released via traditional means of purchase for a considerable time now.  The free giveaway of the Planet Earth album with an English newspaper is but one attempt to find a new way.  Thorne also feels that Prince is fairly contemptuous of his mass fan base, especially for its general refusal to embrace his various stylistic changes and experiments and has what I can only term to be an ambivalent view about his classic catalogue.  What seems to emerge is that Prince now relies on his always spectacular live show to draw in the punters by playing his classic material but by interposing songs from the more recent material, hopes to trigger interest in it.

In terms of Prince’s recorded output, Thorne praises most of the albums up to and including Lovesexy and is one of the few writers prepared to see merit in some of the tracks from the Batman soundtrack.  After Lovesexy, Prince’s output has become variable but what I personally liked about the survey of the latter albums is how closely they appear to resemble my own views.  He rightly points out how the Diamonds And Pearls album hasn’t really stood the test of time, cannot fathom the favourable critical reaction to Musicology and recognises the brilliance of The Rainbow Children.  He doesn’t value The Gold Experience as much as I do but, on the other hand, I think Emancipation is overpraised.  His overview of the non Prince recordings, as well as the recent hard to obtain Prince albums such as The Slaughterhouse And 20Ten is especially valuable and is recommended to anyone wishing to dip their toe into this aspect of his career.

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

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

(AV 31) The Cure – Festival 2005

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

Fast forward to 2005, and it would seem that little had changed.  This DVD is a 2 and a half hour extravaganza that pulls in a range of performances from 9 festival performances in different European locales with vision collated from fans in the crowd, the crew on stage and footage taken for the big screen at the festival venues.  As the band wore the same stage gear, everything blends seamlessly.   However, despite the best intentions of guitarist Porl Thompson, The Cure are fairly static on stage but overcome this on DVD with frequent editing between the film sources and with some post production effects.   

The music selection concentrates on those tracks that did not require keyboards with the guitars cranked to the max.  Fascination Street is an early highlight, but for the first hour only the ever reliable Never Enough truly stands out.  A few tracks later, the entire show turns on enthusiastic renditions of hit singles Just Like Heaven and In Between Days and then the floodgates open rather dramatically.  An absolutely thunderous From The Edge Of Deep Blue Sea is then followed by awesome versions of Faith’s The Drowning Man, the B-side and aptly named Signal To Noise, The Baby Screams from The Head Of the Door and Pornography’s magnificent One Hundred Years.  The encores are hugely satisfying, encompassing 4 tracks from Seventeen Seconds (including the inevitable A Forrest), Disintergration’s Plainsong and title track before Faith brings everything to a highly satisfying conclusion. 

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

(Bk 1) Pete Townshend – Who I Am (2012)

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

Book read, I needed to take stock, select another book and pack, because tomorrow I go on tour.

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

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

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

 (# 700) The Rolling Stones – Beggar’s Banquet (1968)

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

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

 (# 699) The Rolling Stones – Let It Bleed (1969)

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

 (# 701) The Rolling Stones – Sticky Fingers (1971)

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

So there you have it my favourite album.  I can’t split these really, but on this year’s listen (and this year’s listen alone), I’ll anoint Let It Bleed as the winner, just ahead of Beggar’s. 

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