Genesis / Motown

Back when Peter Gabriel was still with Genesis, the band was quoted as saying one of their big influences was Motown.  Right.


However, when Watcher of the Skies recently popped up on my iPod during a shuffle, I noticed how tight the rhythm section of Michael Rutherford and Phil Collins sounded.  Not exactly the Funk Brothers, you know, but still, I thought, maybe there is something to that...



Now, almost 40 years later, Phil Collins has recorded an album with the surviving members of the original Funk Brothers.  OK, so maybe they were serious about the Motown thing after all.

The Who’s Greatest Hits (2009).

Not being a fan of The Who I, however, readily admit to absolutely loving their early singles.  I must say, I prefer these guys in shirts adorned with targets and arrows, rather than fringe.  The first 8 cuts of the latest version of their greatest hits (there are about 5 compilations) have lots of chiming Rickenbacker guitar pushed through brilliant Vox and Marshall amps  It’s pure mid-sixties, and Pete Townshend primarily invented that sound.  Even though The Beatles also made use of the Rickenbacker 6, and 12 string guitars, George Harrison’s approach was more “composerly,” and studied, than Pete’s extroverted strumming.  One might assume his thrashing was to make up for lack of technique as a soloist.  Maybe so, but his sense of time is impressive.  Check out his playing in I Can’t Explain, The Who’s first single, released way back in ‘64.  The guitar solos are mostly rhythmic, with a few licks thrown in.  In the second solo, Pete works in a quarter note triplet riff that is pretty startling as a device for that time.

The video is quite stunning as a depiction of what looked cool in the clubs in London, 1964.  But there are so many creepy boys doing freakish dance moves, it leaves me rather speechless.  Where are all the girls?  Unspeakably odd. Halfway through the video the band is in another club, and Roger looks exactly like David J from Bauhaus.

The Kids Are Alright, from their 1965 album, was released as a single in 1966, reaching #41 in the UK and #85 in the US.  Townsend said their “greatest hits” should be more properly be called their “greatest flops.”  The video is priceless, showing the band in très chic mod styles, and a somewhat awkward lack of stage presence.  Note Roger’s shirt, buttoned down, and buttoned up to the throat.  And check out his mod hairdo: that little puffed up bouffant where the hair is brushed back from the crown of his head is so very au courant.  Keith has his Union Jack shirt on, and Pete is in that long Edwardian jacket. These boys really knew how to dress.

Amelia Fletcher

With degrees from Oxford University (DPhil, MPhil and BA with honors), Dr Amelia Fletcher is the Chief Economist and Senior Director of Mergers for the UK’s Office of Fair Trading, which is a non-ministerial government department set up to protect consumer rights.  

Oh, and  yes, she’s also that girl from Talulah Gosh/Heavenly/Marine Research, and currently, Tender Trap.  While Amelia shows no sign of leaving her day job, she has earned the status of true legend as a leading light in the world of alternative British Pop.  Tender Trap’s last album, Dansette Dansette, came out just last year, and Fletcher still makes quality music 25 years after her debut. In fact, Amelia seems blessed with an unending stream of melodic ideas, always sounding effortless, full of cheer and wit. Her music stays inventive and fresh while dwelling inside the stylistic confines of jangly Indie Pop.

Talulah Gosh (the band and the song) from way back in 1987:

Talulah Gosh   Talulah Gosh
 
 Vezi  mai multe  video    din   muzica

Here’s Amelia’s band, Heavenly, as seen in 1990:

At the age of 45, a respected professional, wife and mother, Amelia is still able to pull off being as twee as she wants to be.  This is good news for all of us of a certain age; that is, you can grow up, be an adult, and still be a nerdy dweeb with loads of cuteness:

The Rolling Stones. Their Satanic Majesties Request (1967).

You have to be of a certain age (okay, you have to be old) to remember that before being the “world’s greatest rock and roll band,” the Rolling Stones were for a time restlessly looking for an identity, going broke, and repeatedly facing ridiculously harsh penalties for possession of pot. And then they lost the leader of the band. (Sadly, who today remembers that musical genius and multi-instrumentalist, Brian Jones, actually started the Stones?). The Rolling Stones began as an R&B cover band forced into writing their own material by their manager, who actually quit during the making of Their Satanic Majesties Request because the band insisted on producing themselves.

Viewed at the time as the Beatles’ only competitors, in reality, Lennon and McCartney barely took a look over their shoulders to see what the Glimmer Twins were up to. Rather, they were taking notes on Brian Wilson’s latest vocal miracles with the Beach Boys.

So, in 1967, as The Beatles were dropping Sgt. Pepper, Jimi was unleashing Are You Experienced, and we saw the debut albums by The Doors, and The Velvet Underground, the Stones released their contribution to 1967, Their Satanic Majesties Request. Long thought to be the nadir of execrable self indulgence, few admit to having any regard for this most anomalous of Stones releases.

But is it really all that bad? Let’s talk about "Sing This All Together (See What Happens)." No, we really can’t talk about that one. Mick said, “Anyone let loose in the studio will produce stuff like that.” Maybe, but no one would release it. As Keith put it, in an absurdly obvious understatement, "There is a change between material on Satanic Majesties and Beggars Banquet.” Oh, you think?

However, we do have "She’s A Rainbow." Ingeniously arranged, it features prominent piano work by Nicky Hopkins, who plays beautifully articulated sections of swirly, filigreed Baroque figures. The silly but stylish lyric is about a girl arrayed in lots of different colors. They nailed the zeitgeist on that one. And who can forget the fractured string quartet at the end playing like some parody of a Ligeti nightmare? The strings were arranged by John Paul Jones, who would become the bass player for Led Zeppelin the following year. Great stuff.

Then there’s "2,000 Light Years From Home." A palpable description of alienation with the sound of a rocket engine slowing down and some of the best creepy Mellotron ever recorded, as played by Brian Jones.

So, Their Satanic Majesties has some classic highlights, among a few missteps symptomatic of the times.  One would have thought Jagger was responsible for the experimentation here, as he often admitted to being bored by sticking only to rock & roll.  But, oddly enough, accounts have suggested Keith leading these sessions, most often aided by close collaboration with Brian Jones, who apparently was able to play any instrument he could lay his hands on. 

The truth is, the badass Stones never fit into the hippy dippy flower power era of the 60’s. Just look at the cover of Satanic Majesties.  They seem to be saying, "Yeah, we're down with all this groovy psychedelic stuff.  Well, actually, no, we're not."

The Stones didn’t really come into their period of greatness until the brackish dawn of the sleazy, disenchanted 70’s, after the disillusionment of the Altamont tragedy. Suddenly, with the Beatles disbanded, and the death of 60’s idealism, it seemed nobody did naughty better than the Stones, and they found their niche just by being themselves.

Every Stones fan and rock critic will tell you Exile On Main Street is their masterpiece and pinnacle. Seeing things differently, I would call Exile the beginning of the end. For me, Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed, and Sticky Fingers were the unbeatable trio of albums from conception to execution that they would never surpass. On Exile, I can hear them start to imitate themselves, which is usually the first glimpse of creative downturn. But I’m probably alone there.

I love their now more neglected work from 1966, like "Mother’s Little Helper", "Paint It Black," and "Lady Jane," all from Aftermath, as well as "Ruby Tuesday," from Between The Buttons. These were baroque, chamber pop songs based in social commentary on the hip, new middle class trends in London. It was the pithy and unflinching criticism and fashionable depictions of the latest empty fads in these tunes that made the Stones seem like enlightened and intelligent observers.

But would anyone, I wonder, agree that perhaps their greatest achievement was "Gimme Shelter?" It’s a portrayal of desperation overcome at the very last moment by redemption (“Love, sister, is just a kiss away”). Here, the Stones pull off a brilliant and heartfelt balance between the dark and the light that remains remarkably mature and untouchable. It summarizes for me what the Stones, at their best, were really all about. The studio recording features the harrowing vocal by Merry Clayton, which takes the performance into a realm of profound spiritual terror.

"Gimme Shelter" live (live vocal anyway, but a fine performance nonetheless by Mick):

The Bird and The Bee. Diamond Dave (2009).

Here's a band I never give a thought to, which is unfair because every time they show up in a shuffle play on my iPod I remember how much I like them.  They epitomize much of what I esteem in music I most cherish: beauty and style, humor, and skillfully meticulous arrangements.  Greg Kurstin has worked with some of my most favorite artists, such as Kylie, and Sophie Ellis-Bextor.  Inara George's voice is rare; utterly relaxed but precise as a laser.

The duo wrote an implausible tribute to David Lee Roth, which is hilarious:

Japan

After the Punk movement reduced popular music to its essential building blocks, bands were free to design their new sounds from scratch.  They could be post-punk, new wave, new Romantic, whatever, as long as they weren't Prog (of course).  

One of the bands ahead of that curve was Japan.  They were already glamming it up during the Punk explosion, so they were not initially successful, except in, well, Japan!  Luckily, they stuck with it until everyone else caught up with them.  It didn’t hurt that the band was full of musical geniuses.  The lovely David Sylvian stole the show, looking like a wax mannequin of Warhol, and sounding like Bowie with seasonal allergies.  But one cannot possibly speak of Japan without acknowledging the fluid and idiosyncratic fretless bass work of Mick Karn.  Karn was a self-taught bassoon player who actually won an audition to a symphony orchestra without knowing how to read music. He made his own fretless bass in the 1970’s simply by removing the frets.

Here’s the band performing The Art of Parties (the groove here is absolutely wicked, and it’s live!):



From the same concert, Still Life In Mobile Homes:



Sadly, Karn lost a battle with cancer in January of this year at the age of 53, having only been diagnosed about six months earlier.  Safe journeys, Mick.

Beaumont. this is... Beaumont (2000).

Keith Girdler, who had recorded originally with the band Blueboy, on Sarah Records, and subsequently in Arabesque, Snowdrops, and Lovejoy, put together Beaumont in 2000, with Lorraine Carrol (vocals), Dick Preece (keyboards), Leigh Saunders (trumpet, keyboards), and two former members of Blueboy: Martin Rose (drums, percussion) and Cath Close (vocals).

Unspeakably twee, the songs refer to plimsolls, tank tops, teardrops, and sipping cherry soda through straws.  Brief instrumentals punctuate the disc, sounding like outtakes from the soundtrack of some lost Julie Christie film.  It evokes, but does not directly imitate, the mid-1960’s, and it drips with wistful charm and beauty.  

Keith Girdler was diagnosed with cancer in 2004 and died three years later, at the age of 46.

For those of you who feel even Belle and Sebastian is too testosterone-fueled and macho for your delicate sensitivities, Beaumont might be just what you’re looking for.

Girls and Maths: