https://i.canvasugc.com/ugc/original/5c85df2a48069765638e9d775f64f064fa9ad829.pngAKA 1970-1979 WTF - The Hard 'n' Heavy 'n' Loud + Krautrock, Arty, Noisy, Weird, Funky, Punky Shit - Albums Poll!
BOOKMARK THE THREAD!
A poll that does sorta cover a multitude of genres and bands in actual fact and not just RAWK before anyone asks. All of ilx was given the chance to nominate and vote. We received over 1000 nominations, 94 ballots (many of whom were the full 100)
The purpose was to have a poll that would have different results to the previous 2 polls. Stay tuned for the ride! There will be a Spotify playlist hopefully if someone volunteers to do it.
ps the top 100 comes later as we're starting at...
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:33 (thirteen years ago)
501 Scorpions - Tokyo Tapes 408 Points, 3 Voteshttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QNq0NdpCuCQ/SUDCN8YPzdI/AAAAAAAACVk/Gw4vCdEtk9A/s1600/Scorpions+-+Tokyo+Tapes+(1978).jpg RYM #18 for 1978 , #751 overall
hahaha a classic Top 100 poll starting with #501... love ya AG!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:35 (thirteen years ago)
are we doing spotify links?
Lol. You just wanted to start with Scorpions as some kind of symmetry, right?
― emil.y, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:35 (thirteen years ago)
well the tracks poll started with Scorpions so it made sense. Plus it was a sign from God. Pope Francis looks like Bullseye (UK tv darts gameshow ) presenter Jim Bowen so it clearly was a sign to start at 501!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:36 (thirteen years ago)
He doesn't look that much like Jim Bowen.
― emil.y, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:37 (thirteen years ago)
emil.y otm
viceroy yes but this album wasn't available (in the UK at least)
Would you like to do the playlist?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:37 (thirteen years ago)
If anyone wasn't looking there was a tracks poll. Full list of results direct link - Rolling Stone Eat Your Heart Out: The Greatest Rawk Trax of the 1970s ILM/ILX Poll RESULTS
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:39 (thirteen years ago)
10 min interval between album postings ok?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:41 (thirteen years ago)
RYM = http://rateyourmusic.com. Rankings are based on an algorithm using scores submitted by users, number of ratings and other factors. Thanks for doing that AG! I'll be helping with getting info and informative goodies on most of the rest after #450.
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:42 (thirteen years ago)
i'm looking forward to this one ...
― mark e, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:43 (thirteen years ago)
I don't think I can do a playlist for this, its gonna be too huge!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:44 (thirteen years ago)
but It's not on spotify US either.
Actually I'll just post whenever but it will usually be around 10 min intervals as its a lot of effort to find album covers,spotify,rym.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
why is the albums list longer than the tracks list? shouldn't it be shorter? there were fewer albums nominated!
― C: (crüt), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
fnb is doing that stuff from 450 down so he will provide rym and acclaimed music rankings and other surprises.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:46 (thirteen years ago)
no there wasnt there was over 1000 albums nominated. plus twice as mant voters
oh, ok. idk why I thought there were more tracks than albums.
― C: (crüt), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:47 (thirteen years ago)
Consider that the 2012 albums rollout was 77, which seemed like a good number that people were happy with. But that was just for one year! The equivalent for a decade poll would be 770 albums, so 501 is a fine compromise.
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:50 (thirteen years ago)
yeah, and after all, what else has AG got to do ...
― mark e, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:52 (thirteen years ago)
I haven't peeked at any of the album results so this is all gonna be fresh for me. I wonder how it will compare to the tracks one where Post-Punk seemed to dominate pretty hard.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:54 (thirteen years ago)
This being albums, perhaps Prog and Krautrock will get higher marks?
I guess I am just saying what I hope lol.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:55 (thirteen years ago)
a lot more genres represented for the nominations in this poll than the tracks poll
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:55 (thirteen years ago)
TIE499 Cheap Trick - Live At Budokan 408 Points 4 Voteshttp://blogs.phoenixnewtimes.com/uponsun/cheaptrick.jpg RYM #54 for 1979 , #2847 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5ttDbNMKXczvp0Z8QRgKs6
499 Bang - Bang 408 Points 4 Voteshttp://i132.photobucket.com/albums/q23/metalmark1/BANG.jpg RYM Ranked #276 for 1971http://open.spotify.com/album/0gC4htPlxAEjXdcFOPuG0F
I just want to point out that albums rule
― wk, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:55 (thirteen years ago)
BANG!!! It made it!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:56 (thirteen years ago)
I just hope the one Popol Vuh album that was nominated gets enough votes to place. That's all. The rest will be ok with me if that happens.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:56 (thirteen years ago)
there was only one???
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 20:56 (thirteen years ago)
yup - i just checked the list! coeur de verre/heart of glass/herz au glas
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:57 (thirteen years ago)
I don't really have the foggiest notion what Bang is. Someone care to spill the beans?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:58 (thirteen years ago)
ONE Popul Vuh album got nommed?! Insanity this is what I get for focusing on other things to nominate.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 20:59 (thirteen years ago)
IDK much about Bang but it was campaigned for in the nom thread and I liked it.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:00 (thirteen years ago)
oh man this is gonna cause extra work
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaSigned by Capitol Records on a wave of goodwill toward heavy rock following the gang buster success story that was Grand Funk Railroad, the members of Bang were hastily ushered into the nearest studio while the ink on their contract was still drying and essentially asked to "show us what you got" by their new backers. What they had, as exemplified by memorable opening gambit, "Lions, Christians," was a hard rock style that tempered the sheer bombastic doom and gloom of Black Sabbath with a less oppressive, blues-reliant sound redolent of most every other proto-metal band out there at the time (think Toe Fat, May Blitz, Dust, etc.), to be quite honest, and therefore lacking in the uncontrolled danger of a Blue Cheer or Sir Lord Baltimore. In fact, such outright savagery was only momentarily threatened here on a few subsequent tracks, including the biting staccatos of ""Come with Me" and Neanderthal plod of "Future Shock," but by the arrival of lead single "Questions" and its undeniably infectious sibling "Redman," some measure of civility had largely been restored. And, sprinkled amidst these angrier moments lay a few curious stylistic diversions like the gentle Arthurian fingerpicking of "Last Will and Testament" and the hippie-dippy sentiments of "Our Home," each of which respectively veered into art rock and the sort of post-flower power whimsy that Altamont should have categorically nailed to a tree a few years earlier (and which had dominated Bang's ambitious but flawed first effort, Death of a Country, which was shelved upon delivery). Having thus heard Bang's best shot (if you catch our meaning) and then watched "Questions" flounder on the charts, the bean-counting suits at Capitol Records apparently and perhaps prematurely deemed their new charges to be anything but the perfect marriage of Sabbath and Grand Funk they were hoping for. The naïve musicians in Bang were barely given another chance to build upon this solid debut's abundant promise, and, as would be shown by pair of flawed and confused follow-up albums, their career was to be thrown into a tailspin before hardly getting off the ground.
Signed by Capitol Records on a wave of goodwill toward heavy rock following the gang buster success story that was Grand Funk Railroad, the members of Bang were hastily ushered into the nearest studio while the ink on their contract was still drying and essentially asked to "show us what you got" by their new backers. What they had, as exemplified by memorable opening gambit, "Lions, Christians," was a hard rock style that tempered the sheer bombastic doom and gloom of Black Sabbath with a less oppressive, blues-reliant sound redolent of most every other proto-metal band out there at the time (think Toe Fat, May Blitz, Dust, etc.), to be quite honest, and therefore lacking in the uncontrolled danger of a Blue Cheer or Sir Lord Baltimore. In fact, such outright savagery was only momentarily threatened here on a few subsequent tracks, including the biting staccatos of ""Come with Me" and Neanderthal plod of "Future Shock," but by the arrival of lead single "Questions" and its undeniably infectious sibling "Redman," some measure of civility had largely been restored. And, sprinkled amidst these angrier moments lay a few curious stylistic diversions like the gentle Arthurian fingerpicking of "Last Will and Testament" and the hippie-dippy sentiments of "Our Home," each of which respectively veered into art rock and the sort of post-flower power whimsy that Altamont should have categorically nailed to a tree a few years earlier (and which had dominated Bang's ambitious but flawed first effort, Death of a Country, which was shelved upon delivery). Having thus heard Bang's best shot (if you catch our meaning) and then watched "Questions" flounder on the charts, the bean-counting suits at Capitol Records apparently and perhaps prematurely deemed their new charges to be anything but the perfect marriage of Sabbath and Grand Funk they were hoping for. The naïve musicians in Bang were barely given another chance to build upon this solid debut's abundant promise, and, as would be shown by pair of flawed and confused follow-up albums, their career was to be thrown into a tailspin before hardly getting off the ground.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:00 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks K. "the gentle Arthurian fingerpicking" wtf?? I do like May Blitz so maybe I'll give this thing a whirl.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:02 (thirteen years ago)
tl;dr - The boys really only had one album worth of songs in 'em.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:06 (thirteen years ago)
I came here for a nice tidy 100 countdown and I get 500
" too much *clap clap* time on my hands..."
:D
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:07 (thirteen years ago)
Weren't there three krautrock tracks in the top 10 of the tracks poll?
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:08 (thirteen years ago)
haha true, there was.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:09 (thirteen years ago)
Nice start with two iconic live albums recorded in Japan. Was that tradition started by Deep Purple or does it go back further?
Hoo boy, I won't be able to do it for most of this first round cuz I'll be commuting home from work, but...
Cheap Trick - Acclaimed: #964 | RS: #430
As a result of Cheap Trick's burgeoning Asian popularity, the band's Japanese label recorded a pair of April 1978 Tokyo shows and released a live album, At Budokan, proof of the band's supreme stage power and an opportunity to introduce several previously unreleased tunes ("Need Your Love," recorded for the next studio disc, whose release was held up by the live album's unexpected success, is amazing). The live version of "I Want You to Want Me" was picked up by American radio programmers, who turned it into a Top 10 hit. A dynamic rendition of Fats Domino's "Ain't That a Shame" also got play, and the platinum-bound album was finally released in the US the following year. -- Trouser Press
Bang
If you dig: Black Sabbath, Hard Rock, Classic Rock. Bang is a quintessential Heavy Rock album, very influenced by early Black Sabbath, but the band waivers off any over-adventurism or Psychedelic meanderings with only one song to break the five-minute barrier..."Questions" was even a minor radio hit in the States... Loved it? Try: Jerusalem, Hard Stuff, Buffalo, Lucifer's Friend, Pentagram. -- R. ChelledAgain, we're talking holy grails of fledgling metal magic here (see Sir Lord Baltimore... a sort of sickly anemic Sabbath trudge with excellent screechy, Ozzy Byron vocals and handicapped drums, more like traps. Rating 8/7 -- M. Popoff
Again, we're talking holy grails of fledgling metal magic here (see Sir Lord Baltimore... a sort of sickly anemic Sabbath trudge with excellent screechy, Ozzy Byron vocals and handicapped drums, more like traps. Rating 8/7 -- M. Popoff
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:10 (thirteen years ago)
TIE497 The Vibrators - Pure Mania 411 Points 3 Votes http://images.uulyrics.com/cover/t/the-vibrators/album-pure-mania.jpgRYM #105 for 1977http://open.spotify.com/album/1FSQBoO0bABGyl4nQssw2E
review[-] by Mark DemingWere the Vibrators real punks? Maybe not, but then again, were the Stranglers? Or Eddie and the Hot Rods? Even more to the point, was Steve Jones? Plenty of rock careerists jumped onto the punk/new wave bandwagon in the wake of the Sex Pistols' success (and more than a few folks, like Jones, stumbled into the new movement by accident), but unlike most of them, the Vibrators took to the fast/loud/stripped down thing like ducks to water, and both Knox (aka Ian Carnarchan) and Pat Collier had a genius for writing short, punchy songs with sneering melody lines and gutsy guitar breaks. If the Vibrators were into punk as a musical rather than a sociopolitical movement, it's obvious that they liked the music very much, and on that level their debut album stands the test of time quite well. Pure Mania boasts a bit more polish (and less politics) than many of the albums from punk's first graduating class (such as Damned Damned Damned or The Clash), but if you're looking for a strong, satisfying shot of chugging four-square punk, cue up "Yeah Yeah Yeah," "No Heart," "Petrol," or "Wrecked on You" and you'll be thrown into a gleeful pogo frenzy. Maybe Pure Mania isn't purist's punk, but it's pure rock & roll, and there's nothing wrong with that.
Were the Vibrators real punks? Maybe not, but then again, were the Stranglers? Or Eddie and the Hot Rods? Even more to the point, was Steve Jones? Plenty of rock careerists jumped onto the punk/new wave bandwagon in the wake of the Sex Pistols' success (and more than a few folks, like Jones, stumbled into the new movement by accident), but unlike most of them, the Vibrators took to the fast/loud/stripped down thing like ducks to water, and both Knox (aka Ian Carnarchan) and Pat Collier had a genius for writing short, punchy songs with sneering melody lines and gutsy guitar breaks. If the Vibrators were into punk as a musical rather than a sociopolitical movement, it's obvious that they liked the music very much, and on that level their debut album stands the test of time quite well. Pure Mania boasts a bit more polish (and less politics) than many of the albums from punk's first graduating class (such as Damned Damned Damned or The Clash), but if you're looking for a strong, satisfying shot of chugging four-square punk, cue up "Yeah Yeah Yeah," "No Heart," "Petrol," or "Wrecked on You" and you'll be thrown into a gleeful pogo frenzy. Maybe Pure Mania isn't purist's punk, but it's pure rock & roll, and there's nothing wrong with that.
497 Focus - Focus III 411 Points 3 Voteshttp://www.buffalomail.com/image.php?mime=image/pjpeg&destacados=1&idFoto=100070RYM #84 for 1972 , #2439 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3N4wCf74U6Ye2c2MbLr9hv
review[-] by Ben DaviesRiding on the success of their hit single "Hocus Pocus" from the revolutionary Moving Waves album, Focus got to work on this, their third LP in four years. While the debut album featured a style not too dissimilar to the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, Focus' second LP, Moving Waves, was purely instrumental and wholly serious-minded. Focus III kept this same sound, but approached it with a jollier, more accessible tone. As with its predecessor, Focus III featured only one tune that would have a chance of being a hit single. The enjoyable rhythm of "Sylvia," partnered with Jan Akkerman's victorious guitar solo, some of Van Leer's finest organ work, Bert Ruiter's tight basslines, and Pierre Van Der Linden's mellow drumming, assured the track classic status. "Sylvia" found worldwide success and gained the band valuable radio and press exposure. The song remains one of the most loved and best remembered songs from Focus' catalog. The consistency in musical quality throughout Focus III is enough to merit any listeners' respect. To be frank, this LP has it all: diverse songs, astounding musicianship, one of the finest singles ever released -- Focus III should unquestionably be ranked alongside the likes of Revolver, Dark Side of the Moon, and any others of rock's greatest.
Riding on the success of their hit single "Hocus Pocus" from the revolutionary Moving Waves album, Focus got to work on this, their third LP in four years. While the debut album featured a style not too dissimilar to the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, Focus' second LP, Moving Waves, was purely instrumental and wholly serious-minded. Focus III kept this same sound, but approached it with a jollier, more accessible tone. As with its predecessor, Focus III featured only one tune that would have a chance of being a hit single. The enjoyable rhythm of "Sylvia," partnered with Jan Akkerman's victorious guitar solo, some of Van Leer's finest organ work, Bert Ruiter's tight basslines, and Pierre Van Der Linden's mellow drumming, assured the track classic status. "Sylvia" found worldwide success and gained the band valuable radio and press exposure. The song remains one of the most loved and best remembered songs from Focus' catalog. The consistency in musical quality throughout Focus III is enough to merit any listeners' respect. To be frank, this LP has it all: diverse songs, astounding musicianship, one of the finest singles ever released -- Focus III should unquestionably be ranked alongside the likes of Revolver, Dark Side of the Moon, and any others of rock's greatest.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:11 (thirteen years ago)
496 Sparks - A Woofer In Tweeter's Clothing 412 Points 3 Voteshttp://cdn.7static.com/static/img/sleeveart/00/003/411/0000341167_500.jpgRYM Ranked #464 for 1973http://open.spotify.com/album/65RIlZ4KlLzX2MxzV7A4hQ
review[-] by Ned RaggettWoofer... starts with another killer opening track, musically and lyrically, with "Girl From Germany," a chugging number detailing the problems the narrator has with his parents over his girlfriend, given their lingering wartime attitudes. The album builds upon the strengths of the debut to create an even better experience all around. The same five-person lineup offers more sharp performances. Album engineering veteran James Lowe takes over production reins from Rundgren, with, happily, no audible sense of trying to make the album more commercial. If anything, things are even wiggier this time around, from the naughtily-titled sea chanty which turns into a full-on rocker "Beaver O'Lindy" and the strings-plus-piano "Here Comes Bob," to the album's completely wacked-out, dramatic centerpiece "Moon Over Kentucky." Melodies start approaching the hyperactivity level which would flower completely on the band's subsequent releases. Ron and Earle Mankey trade off or play against each other, while the rhythm section of Jim Mankey and Feinstein executes the kind of sharp tempo changes which would become de rigueur for thrash-metal bands of the '80s, but fit in perfectly here with the spastic pop being played. Russell soars and croons over it all like an angel on deeply disturbing drugs, wrapping his vocals around such lines as "We surely will appreciate our newfound leisure time" from "Nothing is Sacred." The long-time live favorite "Do-Re-Mi" -- indeed a cover of the number from The Sound of Music -- first appears here as well, taking Rodgers and Hammerstein to a level Julie Andrews might be hardpressed to follow. Anyone wondering why Faith No More appeared on Sparks' self-tribute album Plagiarism need only listen to Woofer to understand -- as a full-on purée of musical styles in the service of twisted viewpoints, it's a perfect album.
Woofer... starts with another killer opening track, musically and lyrically, with "Girl From Germany," a chugging number detailing the problems the narrator has with his parents over his girlfriend, given their lingering wartime attitudes. The album builds upon the strengths of the debut to create an even better experience all around. The same five-person lineup offers more sharp performances. Album engineering veteran James Lowe takes over production reins from Rundgren, with, happily, no audible sense of trying to make the album more commercial. If anything, things are even wiggier this time around, from the naughtily-titled sea chanty which turns into a full-on rocker "Beaver O'Lindy" and the strings-plus-piano "Here Comes Bob," to the album's completely wacked-out, dramatic centerpiece "Moon Over Kentucky." Melodies start approaching the hyperactivity level which would flower completely on the band's subsequent releases. Ron and Earle Mankey trade off or play against each other, while the rhythm section of Jim Mankey and Feinstein executes the kind of sharp tempo changes which would become de rigueur for thrash-metal bands of the '80s, but fit in perfectly here with the spastic pop being played. Russell soars and croons over it all like an angel on deeply disturbing drugs, wrapping his vocals around such lines as "We surely will appreciate our newfound leisure time" from "Nothing is Sacred." The long-time live favorite "Do-Re-Mi" -- indeed a cover of the number from The Sound of Music -- first appears here as well, taking Rodgers and Hammerstein to a level Julie Andrews might be hardpressed to follow. Anyone wondering why Faith No More appeared on Sparks' self-tribute album Plagiarism need only listen to Woofer to understand -- as a full-on purée of musical styles in the service of twisted viewpoints, it's a perfect album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:17 (thirteen years ago)
Well Focus 3 sounds pretty good if Mr. Davies is to be trusted!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:19 (thirteen years ago)
Don't know about the ramblings of this Raggett fellow, though...
the focus album is great
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:19 (thirteen years ago)
Wow, I didn't think that Sparks album would get even 3 votes. Such a great record.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:22 (thirteen years ago)
495 Alternative TV - The Image Has Cracked 415 Points 3 Voteshttp://991.com/newGallery/Alternative-TV-The-Image-Has-Cra-497104.jpgRYM #410 for 1978
review[-] by Ned RaggettStarting with a nuttily bombastic synth intro (courtesy of Squeeze's Jools Holland!) which sounds just like the music punk was supposed to be destroying might seem an unusual move for a band founded by the guy who chronicled the original London explosion. But it's that very contrariness in Mark Perry which made the original Alternative TV such a thrilling prospect, and which makes The Image Has Cracked an unfairly neglected classic from the late-'70s upheaval. Seizing on the promise of punk as being a new means of expression rather than a new set of musical rules to be adhered to, Perry, along with a solid-enough band, whip up a series of incendiary pieces that explore as much as they thrash, caught somewhere between the Fall's divine ramalama and three-chord snarls. "Alternatives" captures the tense spirit of the band's work perfectly, a live recording where over a gentle groove Perry invites audience members to come up and "use the soapbox," only to have a bunch of chancers and screamers talk a lot about nothing much at all, until Perry spits vitriol at a pair of people in a punch-up and complains about "diluted sh*t." As an expression of going down defiant while punk became a new fashion, it's fierce and brilliant. A good half of the album comes from the same concert, including the harrowing final track, "Splitting in Two," as perfect a capturing of nails-dug-in-flesh paranoia and indecision as anything in music history, revived as a live favorite years later by the Chameleons. The studio cuts include a solid run-through of Zappa's "Why Don't You Do Me Right?" and the closest ATV ever came to an anthemic single, "Action Time Vision." The 1994 CD version adds 11 extra tracks to the original album, including the reggae-inflected "Love Lies Limp" and "Life After Life" singles, among many others, making it the edition of Image to look for.
Starting with a nuttily bombastic synth intro (courtesy of Squeeze's Jools Holland!) which sounds just like the music punk was supposed to be destroying might seem an unusual move for a band founded by the guy who chronicled the original London explosion. But it's that very contrariness in Mark Perry which made the original Alternative TV such a thrilling prospect, and which makes The Image Has Cracked an unfairly neglected classic from the late-'70s upheaval. Seizing on the promise of punk as being a new means of expression rather than a new set of musical rules to be adhered to, Perry, along with a solid-enough band, whip up a series of incendiary pieces that explore as much as they thrash, caught somewhere between the Fall's divine ramalama and three-chord snarls. "Alternatives" captures the tense spirit of the band's work perfectly, a live recording where over a gentle groove Perry invites audience members to come up and "use the soapbox," only to have a bunch of chancers and screamers talk a lot about nothing much at all, until Perry spits vitriol at a pair of people in a punch-up and complains about "diluted sh*t." As an expression of going down defiant while punk became a new fashion, it's fierce and brilliant. A good half of the album comes from the same concert, including the harrowing final track, "Splitting in Two," as perfect a capturing of nails-dug-in-flesh paranoia and indecision as anything in music history, revived as a live favorite years later by the Chameleons. The studio cuts include a solid run-through of Zappa's "Why Don't You Do Me Right?" and the closest ATV ever came to an anthemic single, "Action Time Vision." The 1994 CD version adds 11 extra tracks to the original album, including the reggae-inflected "Love Lies Limp" and "Life After Life" singles, among many others, making it the edition of Image to look for.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:23 (thirteen years ago)
494 Bang - Mother/Bow To The King 416 Points 4 Voteshttp://sinistersaladmusikal.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/100_3957.jpgRYM #372 for 1972http://open.spotify.com/album/5WFIHWa1WyhmrTmVhevQZR
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaBang's sophomore album, 1972's Mother/Bow to the King, probably raised quite a few eyebrows in its day based on its curious cover art alone (is that "mother" herself serving the band a very large pie, and is that one dude wearing a cape?), but it was likely the two-for-one title intended to represent each of its vinyl sides that was most revealing of the young band's impending crisis of artistic direction. Until recently, the Philadelphia natives had been just another inexperienced power trio aspiring to become the next Cream, Mountain, or Grand Funk Railroad; then they were plucked out of obscurity by the latter band's parent label, Capitol Records, and asked to deliver in kind, so one can only imagine the sort of pressure and uncertainty tormenting the members of Bang once their first LP failed to set the world on fire. All that being said and notwithstanding the unnecessary sacking of drummer Tony Diorio, there was nevertheless a lot of musical continuity between that debut and the sophomore Mother/Bow to the King, both halves of which were still dominated by high-energy proto-metal exercises like "Humble," "Idealist Realist," and "Feel the Hurt," among others. The folky handclaps of "Mother," the funky guitar of "Keep On," and the proggy ambitions of "Bow to the King" showcased the band's broadening songwriting interests in a positive light; but it was Capitol's insistence that Bang cover the Guess Who's "No Sugar Tonight" (which needless to say stuck out like a sore thumb) that told the real and rather unhappy story behind these sessions -- a sign of bigger problems yet to come. For the moment, however, Bang seemed willing and able enough to tackle these various setbacks and compromises in the interest of developing its career for the long haul. Circumstances would sadly quickly scuttle any chance for them to achieve those long-term goals, but at least for the moment, Mother/Bow to the King saw Bang churning out a decent amount of fledgling heavy rock with which to gain a few new fans.
Bang's sophomore album, 1972's Mother/Bow to the King, probably raised quite a few eyebrows in its day based on its curious cover art alone (is that "mother" herself serving the band a very large pie, and is that one dude wearing a cape?), but it was likely the two-for-one title intended to represent each of its vinyl sides that was most revealing of the young band's impending crisis of artistic direction. Until recently, the Philadelphia natives had been just another inexperienced power trio aspiring to become the next Cream, Mountain, or Grand Funk Railroad; then they were plucked out of obscurity by the latter band's parent label, Capitol Records, and asked to deliver in kind, so one can only imagine the sort of pressure and uncertainty tormenting the members of Bang once their first LP failed to set the world on fire. All that being said and notwithstanding the unnecessary sacking of drummer Tony Diorio, there was nevertheless a lot of musical continuity between that debut and the sophomore Mother/Bow to the King, both halves of which were still dominated by high-energy proto-metal exercises like "Humble," "Idealist Realist," and "Feel the Hurt," among others. The folky handclaps of "Mother," the funky guitar of "Keep On," and the proggy ambitions of "Bow to the King" showcased the band's broadening songwriting interests in a positive light; but it was Capitol's insistence that Bang cover the Guess Who's "No Sugar Tonight" (which needless to say stuck out like a sore thumb) that told the real and rather unhappy story behind these sessions -- a sign of bigger problems yet to come. For the moment, however, Bang seemed willing and able enough to tackle these various setbacks and compromises in the interest of developing its career for the long haul. Circumstances would sadly quickly scuttle any chance for them to achieve those long-term goals, but at least for the moment, Mother/Bow to the King saw Bang churning out a decent amount of fledgling heavy rock with which to gain a few new fans.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:30 (thirteen years ago)
The write ups really add something, thanks for taking the time to put them on.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:39 (thirteen years ago)
Sweet cape that dude's wearing too.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:40 (thirteen years ago)
I'll vouch for that ATV album, one of my favourite albums from the first wave of UK punk. Love the doomy cavernous quality of their sound, big influence on lots of good 80s stuff like World Dom and Savage Republic.
Alternative TV - Viva La Rock 'n' RollAlternative TV - Splitting in Two
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:42 (thirteen years ago)
493 Hairy Chapter - Can't Get Through 422 Points, 4 Voteshttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WVo-Q9kDbzY/TxXYgbR_mGI/AAAAAAAABDo/8tqrOLB4mRk/s1600/front.jpgRYM #334 for 1971http://open.spotify.com/album/7J5HRighwhsSgZw5KaBvQs
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:43 (thirteen years ago)
I love sparks but not so bothered about that album, assuming kimono my house will do ok in this
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:47 (thirteen years ago)
Hairy Chapter's one of Julian Cope's favourites iirc. First track's a belter, can't remember much about the rest of it though.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:48 (thirteen years ago)
This is a pretty interesting album I've never heard of before.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:48 (thirteen years ago)
492 Slade - Slayed? 426 Points, 3 Voteshttp://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U__ix0AABJA/UFKrxDbKiDI/AAAAAAAADD4/iUMLVhDPyso/s1600/g1-12-album-slade-slayed.jpgRYM #239 for 1972
review[-] by Dave ThompsonSlade might have built its everywhere-but-America fame upon a succession of gut-tearing hit singles, but the band's true rocking credentials were on display elsewhere, in the second to none stage show that had already been preserved on the epochal Slade Alive! earlier in 1972 and across the chain of storming B-sides that had accompanied the smashes so far. Slayed? may have been only the band's second studio album in four years, but it reinforced that barrage with enough mighty stompers that the band could have taken the next year off and still not run out of steam. Even if one excises past hits "Gudbuy t' Jane" and "Mama Weer All Crazee Now" from the equation, Slayed? is a nonstop party, from the riotously self-fulfilling prophecy of "The Whole World's Goin' Crazee" to the down-key but still eminently stompalong-able "Look at Last Nite," the latter a reminder that, even at its loudest, Slade was still capable of some fetching balladry. Or should that be the other way around? The tomahawk riffing of "I Won't Let It 'Appen Again" is another highlight -- a similar arrangement was later borrowed, to excellent effect, for sometime support band Blue Öyster Cult's version of another Slade favorite, the rocker anthem "Born to Be Wild," while "Gudbuy Gudbuy" lurches like a battalion of tanks and matches a stirring Dave Hill guitar break to one of Noddy Holder's coolest-ever vocals. A couple of covers break the Holder/Lea songwriting domination. A bass-heavy blues boogie through Janis Joplin's "Move Over had graced a Slade BBC session earlier in the year, and provoked such a great response that they had no option but to re-record it, while the closing medley of "Let the Good Times Roll" and "Feel So Fine" was the closest you could come to the mania of a Slade live show without actually going out and buying a ticket. Of course, listeners don't have that option today. But stick on Slayed?, crank the volume well up -- and the whole world will be going crazee all over again.
Slade might have built its everywhere-but-America fame upon a succession of gut-tearing hit singles, but the band's true rocking credentials were on display elsewhere, in the second to none stage show that had already been preserved on the epochal Slade Alive! earlier in 1972 and across the chain of storming B-sides that had accompanied the smashes so far. Slayed? may have been only the band's second studio album in four years, but it reinforced that barrage with enough mighty stompers that the band could have taken the next year off and still not run out of steam. Even if one excises past hits "Gudbuy t' Jane" and "Mama Weer All Crazee Now" from the equation, Slayed? is a nonstop party, from the riotously self-fulfilling prophecy of "The Whole World's Goin' Crazee" to the down-key but still eminently stompalong-able "Look at Last Nite," the latter a reminder that, even at its loudest, Slade was still capable of some fetching balladry. Or should that be the other way around? The tomahawk riffing of "I Won't Let It 'Appen Again" is another highlight -- a similar arrangement was later borrowed, to excellent effect, for sometime support band Blue Öyster Cult's version of another Slade favorite, the rocker anthem "Born to Be Wild," while "Gudbuy Gudbuy" lurches like a battalion of tanks and matches a stirring Dave Hill guitar break to one of Noddy Holder's coolest-ever vocals. A couple of covers break the Holder/Lea songwriting domination. A bass-heavy blues boogie through Janis Joplin's "Move Over had graced a Slade BBC session earlier in the year, and provoked such a great response that they had no option but to re-record it, while the closing medley of "Let the Good Times Roll" and "Feel So Fine" was the closest you could come to the mania of a Slade live show without actually going out and buying a ticket. Of course, listeners don't have that option today. But stick on Slayed?, crank the volume well up -- and the whole world will be going crazee all over again.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:51 (thirteen years ago)
yeah the 1st track on the hairy chapter album is terrific
love Slade
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:52 (thirteen years ago)
oh yes ! i have totally fallen for this album in recent weeks ...
― mark e, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:53 (thirteen years ago)
Chop off one of their fingers, you get Sade.
― emil.y, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:53 (thirteen years ago)
Damn, where the heck was Janis's Move Over was in the tracks poll?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 21:56 (thirteen years ago)
ive met a fair few people who will rep for Slade and Sweet albums where they say the albums are quite different from the singles
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 21:57 (thirteen years ago)
491 Goblin - Goblin 430 Points, 4 Voteshttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/813/MI0001813304.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:00 (thirteen years ago)
nice
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:02 (thirteen years ago)
GOBLIN!!!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:03 (thirteen years ago)
Too low!!!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:04 (thirteen years ago)
490 Be Bop Deluxe - Axe Victim 431 Points 4 Voteshttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TA-Z3DnjheY/UHrrF_8uUrI/AAAAAAAAAuY/XY4YInNn3Hs/s1600/Be-Bop+Deluxe+-+Axe+Victim+-+Front.jpgRYM #444 for 1974http://open.spotify.com/album/7rOE5FXOZzhSvmPQn2mjHn
reviewby William RuhlmannWhen Be Bop Deluxe's first album was released during the glam rock wave in 1974 and the band (then comprised of Bill Nelson and Ian Parkin on guitars, Robert Bryan on bass, and Nicholas Chatterton-Dew on drums) turned up on the back of the record cover in heavy makeup, it was viewed as being in the David Bowie mold, which certainly took in Nelson's thin but confident tenor vocals and the uptempo rock approach, and even ballads like "Adventures in a Yorkshire Landscape" that sounded a lot like Bowie's "Rock 'n' Roll Suicide." But it was already obvious that Nelson was an unusually lyrical guitar slinger, and in fact the tunes often took a back seat to his sometimes jazzy, sometimes metal-ish excursions. He was, as he sang, "an axe victim," but at the same time, Be Bop Deluxe's musical identity was uncertain.
When Be Bop Deluxe's first album was released during the glam rock wave in 1974 and the band (then comprised of Bill Nelson and Ian Parkin on guitars, Robert Bryan on bass, and Nicholas Chatterton-Dew on drums) turned up on the back of the record cover in heavy makeup, it was viewed as being in the David Bowie mold, which certainly took in Nelson's thin but confident tenor vocals and the uptempo rock approach, and even ballads like "Adventures in a Yorkshire Landscape" that sounded a lot like Bowie's "Rock 'n' Roll Suicide." But it was already obvious that Nelson was an unusually lyrical guitar slinger, and in fact the tunes often took a back seat to his sometimes jazzy, sometimes metal-ish excursions. He was, as he sang, "an axe victim," but at the same time, Be Bop Deluxe's musical identity was uncertain.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:04 (thirteen years ago)
Haha what a terrible album cover.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:06 (thirteen years ago)
wait, what's the goblin? do the band goblin have an album just called goblin, or is that something else?
― wk, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:07 (thirteen years ago)
always loved that be-bop deluxe cover, still never heard the record
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:07 (thirteen years ago)
No idea about the Goblin
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:08 (thirteen years ago)
489 Buddy Miles Express - Them Changes 432 Points 4 Voteshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5_i8IPVbWL8/T1IsBvZktrI/AAAAAAAACJ0/U4foiUIb6cQ/s1600/Them%2BChanges.jpgRYM #281 for 1970http://open.spotify.com/album/5oZjIOwDlJ7DC1KQM2BjWz
reviewby Steve KurutzThis 1970 release by former Band of Gypsy's drummer Buddy Miles is, quite simply, one of the great lost treasures of soul inspired rock music. From the funky drive of the title track to Miles' plaintive singing on "I Still Love You, Anyway" and Greg Allman's "Dreams," the album is filled with the best qualities of both genres. Not only does Miles prove himself to be a great interpretor of songs, but with the title track and "Heart's Delight," he demonstrates his ability to write solid material on his own. Complimented by the Memphis Horns, Miles' songs soar and swing as hard as any Stax release, and his voice, underutilized when he played with the Electric Flag and Hendrix, combines the nuance of soul singing with the grit of rock. Them Changes is definately worth the extra effort to try to locate.
This 1970 release by former Band of Gypsy's drummer Buddy Miles is, quite simply, one of the great lost treasures of soul inspired rock music. From the funky drive of the title track to Miles' plaintive singing on "I Still Love You, Anyway" and Greg Allman's "Dreams," the album is filled with the best qualities of both genres. Not only does Miles prove himself to be a great interpretor of songs, but with the title track and "Heart's Delight," he demonstrates his ability to write solid material on his own. Complimented by the Memphis Horns, Miles' songs soar and swing as hard as any Stax release, and his voice, underutilized when he played with the Electric Flag and Hendrix, combines the nuance of soul singing with the grit of rock. Them Changes is definately worth the extra effort to try to locate.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:14 (thirteen years ago)
I have 2 bill nelson solo records but have never heard any bebop deluxe
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:20 (thirteen years ago)
now that's a drum kit!
― wk, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:21 (thirteen years ago)
488 Chrome - Read Only Memory 433 Points 4 Voteshttp://www.audiophileusa.com/covers400water/60555.jpg RYM #37 for 1979 , #4985 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0MinkKLxOwm97glvftpSO9
review[-] by Ned RaggettIntroducing their disembodied drummer John Q. Cyborg -- in reality a drum machine, publicity photos of the time to the contrary -- Chrome moved into the next phase of its existence with Read Only Memory. The five track release reconfirmed them as being some of the craziest musicians out there working with in a rock format at the time. Beginning with a rising swell of processed Creed guitar shooting towards the skies as Edge provides rumbling keyboard loops, before switching over to the varied cut-up format the early Edge/Creed partnership favored, Read Only Memory is, unsurprisingly, strange and eerily compelling. One curious thing about the release is that, rather that specifically highlighting separate songs, the same Cyborg beat continues relentlessly throughout, fading and reappearing from time to time. Edge and Creed make a variety of different noises over the top as they choose, from soft guitar chimes to punchy randomness, all to good effect. The most distinct number is "I Am the Jaw," if only because Creed's brief lyrical part at the start identifies it as such, while the two musicians add more guitar and keyboard moodiness all around.
Introducing their disembodied drummer John Q. Cyborg -- in reality a drum machine, publicity photos of the time to the contrary -- Chrome moved into the next phase of its existence with Read Only Memory. The five track release reconfirmed them as being some of the craziest musicians out there working with in a rock format at the time. Beginning with a rising swell of processed Creed guitar shooting towards the skies as Edge provides rumbling keyboard loops, before switching over to the varied cut-up format the early Edge/Creed partnership favored, Read Only Memory is, unsurprisingly, strange and eerily compelling. One curious thing about the release is that, rather that specifically highlighting separate songs, the same Cyborg beat continues relentlessly throughout, fading and reappearing from time to time. Edge and Creed make a variety of different noises over the top as they choose, from soft guitar chimes to punchy randomness, all to good effect. The most distinct number is "I Am the Jaw," if only because Creed's brief lyrical part at the start identifies it as such, while the two musicians add more guitar and keyboard moodiness all around.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:22 (thirteen years ago)
Definitely need to listen to more Chrome. What I've heard so far is really good.
― emil.y, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:24 (thirteen years ago)
Surprised you've never heard any albums
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:26 (thirteen years ago)
love buddy miles' cover of "down by the river". whole album's cool.
― brimstead, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:32 (thirteen years ago)
487 Free - Heartbreaker 434 Points 4 Voteshttp://991.com/newgallery/Free-Heartbreaker---Pi-130492.jpgRYM Ranked #172 for 1973http://open.spotify.com/album/0apoOp8hHx0ZD96CHdFyHS
review[-] by Dave ThompsonFree's return in 1972 was scarred by any number of traumas, not least of all the departure of bassist Andy Fraser and the virtual incapacity of guitarist Paul Kossoff -- one-half of the original band, and the lion's share of its spirit as well. But did their erstwhile bandmates let it show? Not a jot. The hastily recruited Tetsu Yamauchi, and vocalist Paul Rodgers himself, filled the breach instrumentally, and probably 50 percent of the ensuing Heartbreaker ranks among Free's finest ever work. Of course, any record that can open with the sheer majesty of "Wishing Well," Rodgers' so-evocative tribute to Kossoff, is immediately going to ascend to the halls of greatness, all the more so since Kossoff himself is in such fine form across both this cut and the next three -- completing side one of the original vinyl, "Come Together in the Morning," "Travellin' in Style," and "Heartbreaker" add up to the band's most convincing sequence of songs since the days of Fire and Water. Further into the disc, two contributions from another new recruit, keyboard player John Bundrick, fall a little flat, a fate they share with the previously unreleased "Hand Me Down/Turn Me Round," one of the 2002 remaster's six bonus tracks. But a pair of solo Rodgers songs, "Easy on My Soul" and "Seven Angels," close the album with as much emotion as it opened on, and one could well argue that, after such a treat, the aforementioned bonus tracks are all but unnecessary, especially as the first few simply offer outtakes, alternates, and B-sides from the sessions themselves. As the CD wraps up, however, two final tracks reveal what happened once the album was completed, peeping into the band's rehearsal room on the eve of their summer tour of Japan to catch "Heartbreaker" and "Easy on My Soul" in such rough but eloquently heavenly form that this most emotionally weighted of Free's albums could demand no deeper coda.
Free's return in 1972 was scarred by any number of traumas, not least of all the departure of bassist Andy Fraser and the virtual incapacity of guitarist Paul Kossoff -- one-half of the original band, and the lion's share of its spirit as well. But did their erstwhile bandmates let it show? Not a jot. The hastily recruited Tetsu Yamauchi, and vocalist Paul Rodgers himself, filled the breach instrumentally, and probably 50 percent of the ensuing Heartbreaker ranks among Free's finest ever work. Of course, any record that can open with the sheer majesty of "Wishing Well," Rodgers' so-evocative tribute to Kossoff, is immediately going to ascend to the halls of greatness, all the more so since Kossoff himself is in such fine form across both this cut and the next three -- completing side one of the original vinyl, "Come Together in the Morning," "Travellin' in Style," and "Heartbreaker" add up to the band's most convincing sequence of songs since the days of Fire and Water. Further into the disc, two contributions from another new recruit, keyboard player John Bundrick, fall a little flat, a fate they share with the previously unreleased "Hand Me Down/Turn Me Round," one of the 2002 remaster's six bonus tracks. But a pair of solo Rodgers songs, "Easy on My Soul" and "Seven Angels," close the album with as much emotion as it opened on, and one could well argue that, after such a treat, the aforementioned bonus tracks are all but unnecessary, especially as the first few simply offer outtakes, alternates, and B-sides from the sessions themselves. As the CD wraps up, however, two final tracks reveal what happened once the album was completed, peeping into the band's rehearsal room on the eve of their summer tour of Japan to catch "Heartbreaker" and "Easy on My Soul" in such rough but eloquently heavenly form that this most emotionally weighted of Free's albums could demand no deeper coda.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:33 (thirteen years ago)
Thank you AG for at starting at 501 because Tokyo Tapes!!
― brimstead, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:33 (thirteen years ago)
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus)
Think I had it in my top twenty. Great album, one of their eight masterpieces.
― Kitchen Person, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:37 (thirteen years ago)
I don't know most of the albums that have placed so far but I'm trying to check them out... This Free album starts off pretty good!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:40 (thirteen years ago)
I'm pretty sure that Goblin didn't have a self-titled album, so the list actually starts at an even 500!
― wk, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:41 (thirteen years ago)
well AMG lists it so i posted the cover from there.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:43 (thirteen years ago)
that album is actually goblin covering the whole of the tyler record fyi
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:44 (thirteen years ago)
Well AMG has it listed but no tracklist or anything about it. It allegedly came out in 1975 and was the first thing they released under that name, previously calling themselves Cherry Five.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:47 (thirteen years ago)
hiruko the goblin appears to be a japanese horror movie from 1991
― wk, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:47 (thirteen years ago)
Well I hope the only Goblin album to place isn't one that doesn't actually exist.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:48 (thirteen years ago)
argh I meant -- I hope more Goblin places.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:49 (thirteen years ago)
I'm sure Suspira will get more than 4 votes
― wk, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:50 (thirteen years ago)
who nominated it?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:51 (thirteen years ago)
not me.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:52 (thirteen years ago)
486 Buzzcocks - Another Music In A Different Kitchen 434 Points 5 Voteshttp://www.weareprivate.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/411Q7oH4+hL._SS500_.jpg RYM #45 for 1978 , #1764 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1tf86cbNXgFpRDntcj3EDb
review[-] by Ned RaggettGeneral judgment holds the Buzzcocks' peerless singles, the definition of punk-pop at its finest, as the best expression of their work. However, while the singles showcased one particular side of the band, albums like the group's long-playing debut Another Music showcased the foursome's other influences, sometimes brilliantly. The big secret is Shelley's worship of Krautrock's obsessive focus on repetition and rhythm, which transforms what would be "simply" basic punk songs into at-times monstrous epics. The ghost of Can particular hovers even on some of the shorter songs -- unsurprising, given Shelley's worship of that band's guitarist Michael Karoli. "Moving Away From the Pulsebeat" is the best instance of this, with a rumbling Maher rhythm supporting some trancelike guitar lines. As for the sheer rush of pop craziness, Another Music is simply crammed with stellar examples. Lead-off track "Fast Cars" starts with the opening of Spiral Scratch's "Boredom"'s intentionally hilarious two-note solo intact, before ripping into a slightly bemusing critique of the objects in question. Most of the similar tracks on the album may be more distinct for their speed, but Shelley in particular always seems to sneak in at least one astonishing line per song, sometimes on his own and sometimes thanks to Devoto via older cowritten tunes redone for the record. One favorite standout: "All this slurping and sucking -- it's putting me off my food!" on "You Tear Me Up." Top all this off with any number of perfect moments -- the guitar work during the breaks on "Love Battery," the energizing yet nervous coda of "Fiction Romance," the soaring angst throughout "I Don't Mind" -- and Another Music flat out succeeds.
General judgment holds the Buzzcocks' peerless singles, the definition of punk-pop at its finest, as the best expression of their work. However, while the singles showcased one particular side of the band, albums like the group's long-playing debut Another Music showcased the foursome's other influences, sometimes brilliantly. The big secret is Shelley's worship of Krautrock's obsessive focus on repetition and rhythm, which transforms what would be "simply" basic punk songs into at-times monstrous epics. The ghost of Can particular hovers even on some of the shorter songs -- unsurprising, given Shelley's worship of that band's guitarist Michael Karoli. "Moving Away From the Pulsebeat" is the best instance of this, with a rumbling Maher rhythm supporting some trancelike guitar lines. As for the sheer rush of pop craziness, Another Music is simply crammed with stellar examples. Lead-off track "Fast Cars" starts with the opening of Spiral Scratch's "Boredom"'s intentionally hilarious two-note solo intact, before ripping into a slightly bemusing critique of the objects in question. Most of the similar tracks on the album may be more distinct for their speed, but Shelley in particular always seems to sneak in at least one astonishing line per song, sometimes on his own and sometimes thanks to Devoto via older cowritten tunes redone for the record. One favorite standout: "All this slurping and sucking -- it's putting me off my food!" on "You Tear Me Up." Top all this off with any number of perfect moments -- the guitar work during the breaks on "Love Battery," the energizing yet nervous coda of "Fiction Romance," the soaring angst throughout "I Don't Mind" -- and Another Music flat out succeeds.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:54 (thirteen years ago)
there is a series of goblin compilations, i'm guessing this it's the first one of those that people were voting for?
http://www.radioapplepie.org/cinebis/86/goblin_collection.jpg
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:54 (thirteen years ago)
that Goblin "album" is on allmusic, as an image only. It's an unrelated movie poster. I tried to figure out what was actually intended, and all I could come up with is a possible greatest hits from 1979.
xp, that above cd is from much later.
― Zachary Taylor, Friday, 15 March 2013 22:55 (thirteen years ago)
The cd is from later obv, but it covers music from 1975 (i.e. Profondo Rosso) onwards
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 22:57 (thirteen years ago)
485 Cabaret Voltaire - Extended Play 436 Points 4 Voteshttp://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/b/bd/Cabaret_Voltaire-Extended_Play.jpgRYM Ranked #18 for 1978 , #1162 overall
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:02 (thirteen years ago)
What is Be-Bop Deluxe like? Kinda wish I could've been arsed to vote but well, I suppose I couldn't be arsed. Looks like you guys did a good job of the tracks poll though. Maybe I would've broken the tie on the Vibrators.
― Just noise and screaming and no musical value at all. (Colonel Poo), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:04 (thirteen years ago)
I don't know how I forgot to vote for Cab Voltaire. Hopefully Mix-Up will place a lot higher.
― wk, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:09 (thirteen years ago)
484 Tonto's Exploding Head Band - Zero Time 439 Points 6 Voteshttp://www.silverdisc.com/images/4/4753314800427.jpgRYM #566 for 1971
reviewby Jim BrenholtsZero Time is one of the first -- and perhaps best of -- all electronic albums. Robert Margouleff and Malcolm Cecil, under the alias of T.O.N.T.O.'s Expanding Head Band, created this analog marvel on T.O.N.T.O. -- "The Original New Timbral Orchestra." The pristine synth washes are crisp and clear. Margouleff and Cecil forged a new sound with a digital feeling. Oddly, this instrument was embraced and used extensively by Motown artists. Steve Hillage used it on Motivation Radio, and Devo used it quite often. (Cecil produced and engineered a number of their albums.) The rest of the rock & roll community ignored it. For historical purposes, this rare and collectible album is essential. For musical integrity, it still stands the test of time and is essential. It is a classic with no real peers, but it will appeal to fans of Mother Mallard's Portable Masterpiece Company, Jean Michel Jarre, Tangerine Dream, Wendy Carlos, and Fripp & Eno in terms of its uniqueness and legacy.
Zero Time is one of the first -- and perhaps best of -- all electronic albums. Robert Margouleff and Malcolm Cecil, under the alias of T.O.N.T.O.'s Expanding Head Band, created this analog marvel on T.O.N.T.O. -- "The Original New Timbral Orchestra." The pristine synth washes are crisp and clear. Margouleff and Cecil forged a new sound with a digital feeling. Oddly, this instrument was embraced and used extensively by Motown artists. Steve Hillage used it on Motivation Radio, and Devo used it quite often. (Cecil produced and engineered a number of their albums.) The rest of the rock & roll community ignored it. For historical purposes, this rare and collectible album is essential. For musical integrity, it still stands the test of time and is essential. It is a classic with no real peers, but it will appeal to fans of Mother Mallard's Portable Masterpiece Company, Jean Michel Jarre, Tangerine Dream, Wendy Carlos, and Fripp & Eno in terms of its uniqueness and legacy.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:10 (thirteen years ago)
http://open.spotify.com/artist/1EAuonSn6FGXejwZS6EU9Z
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:15 (thirteen years ago)
Are you ready for some funk?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:15 (thirteen years ago)
483 Fela Kuti - Roforofo Fight 441 Points 4 Voteshttp://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y-JMAu-xy1w/TdJiXdM0cHI/AAAAAAAABZ0/rpK83Y--Ssc/s1600/Fela%2BKuti%2B-%2BRoforofo%2BFight.jpgRYM #22 for 1972 , #540 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6F9klNzRwcs3yk40DEUh3l
review[-] by Thom JurekThis is essentially a CD reissue of Fela Kuti's 1972 album Roforofo Fight, with the addition of two previously unreleased tracks from the same era. It's true that Kuti's early-'70s records tend to blur together with their similar groupings of four lengthy Afro-funk jazz cuts. In their defense, it must be said that while few artists can pull off similar approaches time after time and continue to make it sound fresh, Kuti is one of them. Each of the four songs on Roforofo Fight clocks in at 12 to 17 minutes, and there's a slight slide toward more '70s-sounding rhythms in the happy-feet beats of the title track, and the varied, yet rock-solid drums in "Go Slow." There's just a hint of reggae in "Trouble Sleep Yanga Wake Am," in the pace, vocal delivery, ethereal keyboards, and lilting yet dramatic minor melodic lines. The James Brown influence is strongly heard in the lean, nervous guitar strums of "Question Jam Answer," and the horns cook in a way that they might have had Brown been more inclined to let his bands go into improvisational jams. The two bonus tracks -- "Shenshema" (from 1972) and "Ariya" (from 1973) -- comprised the segment of the CD titled "Fela Singles" a curious phrase given that they were previously unreleased. "Shenshema" is a nine-minute cut that is heavy on go-go-like percussion and cool, responsive chants from the band. The ten-minute "Ariya" is a real discovery, its urgent spy theme-like melody and Kuti's haunting, driven vocals making it a highlight even relative to the generally high quality of his recordings during this period. The same set was remastered and licensed to the venerable Wrasse Records label. The package is deluxe, in a slipcase. There is a biographical essay included and notes on individual songs by Mabinuori Idowu, the author of the excellent biography Fela, Why Blackman Carry Shit.
This is essentially a CD reissue of Fela Kuti's 1972 album Roforofo Fight, with the addition of two previously unreleased tracks from the same era. It's true that Kuti's early-'70s records tend to blur together with their similar groupings of four lengthy Afro-funk jazz cuts. In their defense, it must be said that while few artists can pull off similar approaches time after time and continue to make it sound fresh, Kuti is one of them. Each of the four songs on Roforofo Fight clocks in at 12 to 17 minutes, and there's a slight slide toward more '70s-sounding rhythms in the happy-feet beats of the title track, and the varied, yet rock-solid drums in "Go Slow." There's just a hint of reggae in "Trouble Sleep Yanga Wake Am," in the pace, vocal delivery, ethereal keyboards, and lilting yet dramatic minor melodic lines. The James Brown influence is strongly heard in the lean, nervous guitar strums of "Question Jam Answer," and the horns cook in a way that they might have had Brown been more inclined to let his bands go into improvisational jams. The two bonus tracks -- "Shenshema" (from 1972) and "Ariya" (from 1973) -- comprised the segment of the CD titled "Fela Singles" a curious phrase given that they were previously unreleased. "Shenshema" is a nine-minute cut that is heavy on go-go-like percussion and cool, responsive chants from the band. The ten-minute "Ariya" is a real discovery, its urgent spy theme-like melody and Kuti's haunting, driven vocals making it a highlight even relative to the generally high quality of his recordings during this period. The same set was remastered and licensed to the venerable Wrasse Records label. The package is deluxe, in a slipcase. There is a biographical essay included and notes on individual songs by Mabinuori Idowu, the author of the excellent biography Fela, Why Blackman Carry Shit.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:19 (thirteen years ago)
First Fela of the poll. I doubt it will be the last!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:26 (thirteen years ago)
Known about the Tonto's record since forever but am only just listening now. It's great! Some nice synth tones there. This is possibly slightly off-putting, but it makes me think of really chewy toffee - I think it's the really slow-moving thick rubbery core with all this sweet sugary drool squelching all around about it.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:27 (thirteen years ago)
482 The New York Dolls - Too Much Too Soon 442 Points 4 Voteshttp://covers.box.sk/newsimg/dvdmov/max1156707326-front-cover.jpgRYM #131 for 1974 , #4734 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7fSPQODyyLrutYRPIPxgR9
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineAfter the clatter of their first album failed to bring them a wide audience, the New York Dolls hired producer Shadow Morton to work on the follow-up, Too Much Too Soon. The differences are apparent right from the start of the ferocious opener, "Babylon." Not only are the guitars cleaner, but the mix is dominated by waves of studio sound effects and female backing vocals. Ironically, instead of making the Dolls sound safer, all the added frills emphasize their gleeful sleaziness and reckless sound. the Dolls sound on the verge of falling apart throughout the album, as Johnny Thunders and Syl Sylvain relentlessly trade buzz-saw riffs while David Johansen sings, shouts, and sashays on top of the racket. Band originals -- including the bluesy raver "It's Too Late," the noisy girl-group pop of "Puss N' Boots," and the Thunders showcase "Chatterbox" -- are rounded out by obscure R&B and rock & roll covers tailor-made for the group. Johansen vamps throughout Leiber & Stoller's "Bad Detective," Archie Bell's "(There's Gonna Be A) Showdown," the Cadets "Stranded in the Jungle," and Sonny Boy Williamson's "Don't Start Me Talkin'," yet it's with grit and affection -- he really means it, man! The whole record collapses with the scathing "Human Being," on which a bunch of cross-dressing misfits defiantly declare that it's OK that they want too many things, 'cause they're human beings, just like you and me. Three years later, the Sex Pistols failed to come up with anything as musically visceral and dangerous. Perhaps that's why the Dolls never found their audience in the early '70s: Not only were they punk rock before punk rock was cool, but they remained weirder and more idiosyncratic than any of the bands that followed. And they rocked harder, too.
After the clatter of their first album failed to bring them a wide audience, the New York Dolls hired producer Shadow Morton to work on the follow-up, Too Much Too Soon. The differences are apparent right from the start of the ferocious opener, "Babylon." Not only are the guitars cleaner, but the mix is dominated by waves of studio sound effects and female backing vocals. Ironically, instead of making the Dolls sound safer, all the added frills emphasize their gleeful sleaziness and reckless sound. the Dolls sound on the verge of falling apart throughout the album, as Johnny Thunders and Syl Sylvain relentlessly trade buzz-saw riffs while David Johansen sings, shouts, and sashays on top of the racket. Band originals -- including the bluesy raver "It's Too Late," the noisy girl-group pop of "Puss N' Boots," and the Thunders showcase "Chatterbox" -- are rounded out by obscure R&B and rock & roll covers tailor-made for the group. Johansen vamps throughout Leiber & Stoller's "Bad Detective," Archie Bell's "(There's Gonna Be A) Showdown," the Cadets "Stranded in the Jungle," and Sonny Boy Williamson's "Don't Start Me Talkin'," yet it's with grit and affection -- he really means it, man! The whole record collapses with the scathing "Human Being," on which a bunch of cross-dressing misfits defiantly declare that it's OK that they want too many things, 'cause they're human beings, just like you and me. Three years later, the Sex Pistols failed to come up with anything as musically visceral and dangerous. Perhaps that's why the Dolls never found their audience in the early '70s: Not only were they punk rock before punk rock was cool, but they remained weirder and more idiosyncratic than any of the bands that followed. And they rocked harder, too.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:28 (thirteen years ago)
Acclaimed: #918
The legendary Shadow Morton produced the second album; though the results don't match Rundgren's, the Dolls come roaring through nonetheless. There are fewer originals, but the songs they covered have never been the same. "Stranded in the Jungle," "Showdown," "Bad Detective" and "Don't Start Me Talking," reflecting the band's live repertoire at the time, affirm the Dolls' R&B roots. -- Trouser Press
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:31 (thirteen years ago)
I'm sure I wont be the only one surprised at that low placing. Still dont think its anywhere near as good as the 1st though.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:34 (thirteen years ago)
Glad to have heard this Tonto record, this is really good. Was stuff like Klaus Schulze nommed for this poll?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:39 (thirteen years ago)
I wanted to but think Balls vetoed it? I think his compromise for allowing it was to be the krautROCK end of krautrock.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:41 (thirteen years ago)
I shoulda sneaked in one tbh
roforofo fight has one of my favorite fela jams: "trouble sleep yanga wake am". it's a relative slow jam by fela standards, but it's awesome
― ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (Z S), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:42 (thirteen years ago)
480 Tony Allen - No Accomodation For Lagos 445 Points 4 Voteshttp://www.recordsale.de/cdpix/t/tony_allen_plays_with_afrika_70-no_accomodation_for_lagos(1).jpgRYM Ranked #198 for 1979
review[-] by Marisa BrownTony Allen, drummer for Fela Kuti's band Africa 70 and one of the innovators of Afro-beat, has spent much of his solo career exploring other genres, melding them with his distinct percussion style and showing its, and therefore his, diversity. In Lagos No Shaking, however, Allen returns -- literally and musically -- to where he first started. Recorded during ten days in June 2005 in Nigeria's largest city and Allen's hometown, the album is pure Afro-beat, drawing from Kuti's sax players Baba Ani and Show Boy and local singers Fatai Rolling Dollar and Yinka Davies, among others, to complete his band. And what results is a good -- even great at moments -- album, and while it might not take you back completely to the days of Kuti's dominance, it's a lot closer to it that any other contemporary recording. The two guitars, one on rhythm and one on choppy, tinny riffs, and a bass -- probably the actual funkiest instrument on the album -- work in and out of the polyrhythms that Allen and percussionist Yinka Ogunye create as the foundation of the songs. The horns -- sharp and brassy yet slightly muted, just like they should be -- fill in when necessary, generating movement while everything else stays relatively mellow and controlled. Not that Lagos No Shaking is a relaxed record: there's still plenty of punch and swing in the arrangements, but it doesn't have the biting sarcasm and provocativeness that Kuti's music had, focusing more on feeling and continuity instead. Still, it moves, and it moves well. The band is always tight, with thoughtful, interesting grooves, and when Rolling Dollar adds his world-weary vocals, it's almost impossible not to be transported to a hot, bustling Nigerian street. "Ise Nla," the album's opener, is fun and busy, while in "Aye Le," despite its rolling horns, there's a melancholy in the scratchy vocals as he sings about the hardships of life, and the percussion and voice version of the traditional "Awa Na Re" is stunningly profound in its simplicity, the two sounds working together to bring the best out of the others without compromising their own importance. There's a genuine warmth to everything in Lagos No Shaking that comes from Allen's dexterous hands, a sincerity, and soul that can't be faked or duplicated, proving very much why he is such an important figure in Afro-beat, and why his albums should absolutely be listened to.
Tony Allen, drummer for Fela Kuti's band Africa 70 and one of the innovators of Afro-beat, has spent much of his solo career exploring other genres, melding them with his distinct percussion style and showing its, and therefore his, diversity. In Lagos No Shaking, however, Allen returns -- literally and musically -- to where he first started. Recorded during ten days in June 2005 in Nigeria's largest city and Allen's hometown, the album is pure Afro-beat, drawing from Kuti's sax players Baba Ani and Show Boy and local singers Fatai Rolling Dollar and Yinka Davies, among others, to complete his band. And what results is a good -- even great at moments -- album, and while it might not take you back completely to the days of Kuti's dominance, it's a lot closer to it that any other contemporary recording. The two guitars, one on rhythm and one on choppy, tinny riffs, and a bass -- probably the actual funkiest instrument on the album -- work in and out of the polyrhythms that Allen and percussionist Yinka Ogunye create as the foundation of the songs. The horns -- sharp and brassy yet slightly muted, just like they should be -- fill in when necessary, generating movement while everything else stays relatively mellow and controlled. Not that Lagos No Shaking is a relaxed record: there's still plenty of punch and swing in the arrangements, but it doesn't have the biting sarcasm and provocativeness that Kuti's music had, focusing more on feeling and continuity instead. Still, it moves, and it moves well. The band is always tight, with thoughtful, interesting grooves, and when Rolling Dollar adds his world-weary vocals, it's almost impossible not to be transported to a hot, bustling Nigerian street. "Ise Nla," the album's opener, is fun and busy, while in "Aye Le," despite its rolling horns, there's a melancholy in the scratchy vocals as he sings about the hardships of life, and the percussion and voice version of the traditional "Awa Na Re" is stunningly profound in its simplicity, the two sounds working together to bring the best out of the others without compromising their own importance. There's a genuine warmth to everything in Lagos No Shaking that comes from Allen's dexterous hands, a sincerity, and soul that can't be faked or duplicated, proving very much why he is such an important figure in Afro-beat, and why his albums should absolutely be listened to.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:45 (thirteen years ago)
oh that was a tie with this:
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:51 (thirteen years ago)
Tonto!
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:53 (thirteen years ago)
Recorded during ten days in June 2005 in Nigeria's largest city and Allen's hometown, the album is pure Afro-beat
?
― ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (Z S), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:53 (thirteen years ago)
480 Flower Travellin' Band - Anywhere 445 Points 4 Voteshttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IED63-ftLbM/UEGyK8xt-TI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/wtm1CAVIk9Y/s1600/flower-travellin-band-anywhere.-180g-vinyl-lp-with-original-artwork-and-insert-708-p.jpgRYM #707 for 1970http://open.spotify.com/album/64SOkCNwrVJUEtdX5ZwJvl
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaBest known for its iconic, quite frankly hilarious cover art -- featuring the four bandmembers riding three motorcycles, Easy Rider-style, only buck naked (gulp!) -- the Flower Travellin' Band's 1970 debut album, Anywhere, unfortunately isn't as original where the actual music is concerned. That's because, with the exception of its minute-long, book-ending solo harmonica workouts, Anywhere was a covers album! And the second of its kind, technically speaking, following 1969's Challenge, which was recorded by the then simply named the Flowers with two different singers tackling Western rock and pop hits of the day by Janis Joplin, Cream, Hendrix, and the Jefferson Airplane. Come time for Anywhere, new singer Akira "Joe" Yamanaka had joined guitarist Hideki Ishima, bassist Joji "George" Wada, and drummer Jun Kowzuki in the newly renamed Flower Travellin' Band, and though they hadn't yet found time to come up with any original material, their often radical reworkings of the songs they covered almost qualified them as such. This is especially true of their 15-minute improvisation on Muddy Waters' "Louisiana Blues," which they render virtually unrecognizable while introducing numerous themes of the band' own devising; and, to a lesser degree, their extended jam on King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man," which breaks off into quite the freak-out halfway through. And, while not as engaging from a creativity standpoint, the band's relatively straightforward take on Black Sabbath's eponymous tune (surely the first time anyone covered the Sabs on record) comes off uniquely idiosyncratic enough, as does their mostly clumsy stab at the enduring folk ballad "House of the Rising Sun," which unfortunately falls apart due to Ishima's exaggerated and often off-pitch octave leaps, and distractingly accented pronunciations ("...rouse of the lising sun," etc.). In sum, a curious listening experience to say the least. But those familiar with the group's subsequent masterpiece, Satori, will recognize all of these elements as building blocks for that album's unique mixture of progressive daring, psychedelic eccentricity, and muscular, heavy rock austerity. Those who haven't heard Satori, on the other hand, will see little point in bothering with Anywhere's covers, no matter how interesting...unless they find it impossible to resist with that legendary cover photo, that is.
Best known for its iconic, quite frankly hilarious cover art -- featuring the four bandmembers riding three motorcycles, Easy Rider-style, only buck naked (gulp!) -- the Flower Travellin' Band's 1970 debut album, Anywhere, unfortunately isn't as original where the actual music is concerned. That's because, with the exception of its minute-long, book-ending solo harmonica workouts, Anywhere was a covers album! And the second of its kind, technically speaking, following 1969's Challenge, which was recorded by the then simply named the Flowers with two different singers tackling Western rock and pop hits of the day by Janis Joplin, Cream, Hendrix, and the Jefferson Airplane. Come time for Anywhere, new singer Akira "Joe" Yamanaka had joined guitarist Hideki Ishima, bassist Joji "George" Wada, and drummer Jun Kowzuki in the newly renamed Flower Travellin' Band, and though they hadn't yet found time to come up with any original material, their often radical reworkings of the songs they covered almost qualified them as such. This is especially true of their 15-minute improvisation on Muddy Waters' "Louisiana Blues," which they render virtually unrecognizable while introducing numerous themes of the band' own devising; and, to a lesser degree, their extended jam on King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man," which breaks off into quite the freak-out halfway through. And, while not as engaging from a creativity standpoint, the band's relatively straightforward take on Black Sabbath's eponymous tune (surely the first time anyone covered the Sabs on record) comes off uniquely idiosyncratic enough, as does their mostly clumsy stab at the enduring folk ballad "House of the Rising Sun," which unfortunately falls apart due to Ishima's exaggerated and often off-pitch octave leaps, and distractingly accented pronunciations ("...rouse of the lising sun," etc.). In sum, a curious listening experience to say the least. But those familiar with the group's subsequent masterpiece, Satori, will recognize all of these elements as building blocks for that album's unique mixture of progressive daring, psychedelic eccentricity, and muscular, heavy rock austerity. Those who haven't heard Satori, on the other hand, will see little point in bothering with Anywhere's covers, no matter how interesting...unless they find it impossible to resist with that legendary cover photo, that is.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:54 (thirteen years ago)
yeah it's a review for a different album xp
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:55 (thirteen years ago)
If you dig: Hard Rock, Blues Rock, Black Sabbath. Their covers of "Black Sabbath" and King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man" are worth mentioning, bu the best track in the album is the cover to Muddy Waters' "Louisiana Blues" which incorporates traditional Blues with strong Japanese influences...The cover art was outrageous this time as well and is quite possibly the coolest ever to grant an LP... -- R. Chelled
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 15 March 2013 23:55 (thirteen years ago)
late to this but: NEW YORK DOLLS <3 <3 It's like angry, garagey KISS without the corny come-ons. Johansen is one of my favorite frontmen ever, so much attitude. Goddamn they were the shit.
TMTS is awesome! I like the first album a lot because it's so noisy but TMTS is a better album overall for me personally
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Friday, 15 March 2013 23:59 (thirteen years ago)
479 Mother's Finest - Mother's Finest 448 Points 3 Voteshttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/283/MI0003283685.jpg?partner=allrovi.comRYM #324 for 1976http://open.spotify.com/album/2u7SLLZRvtRIPcKnYjMj0H
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaMacon, Georgia's answer to Sly & the Family Stone, Mother's Finest spent the first half of the ‘70s vying for work in bars and clubs across the American Southeast -- every last one of which probably possessed an unsigned local resident Southern rock act. And though they even got as far as releasing an oft-forgotten 1972 album that pleased neither their label RCA nor themselves, Mother's Finest would only be properly "discovered" by Epic Records staff producer Tom Werman (Cheap Trick, Ted Nugent, etc.) several years later. By then, Mother's Finest had evolved into a fierce live proposition, armed with an explosive combination of urban funk and heavy rock, and this goes a long way toward explaining why this self-titled second try from 1976 frequently sounds like Sly Stone being infected with a welcome case of Nugent's "Cat Scratch Fever." For proof, listeners need look no further than the snarling riffs of first single "Fire," but they may just want to stick around ‘til the iron-soul powerhouse "My Baby" rolls around, and probably even through to the very last crash of album closer "Rain," since there is very little filler to be found in between. That first single, for example, may have stalled at number 93 on the American pop charts, but that's difficult to understand once Mother's Finest's co-lead vocal team of Joyce "Baby Jean" Kennedy (as fiery as Tina Turner, as soulful as Chaka Khan) and her hubby Glenn Murdock (no slouch himself) start going toe to toe. Not to be outdone, the band's instrumental contributors proceed to stretch their wings to the fullest on an epic jam named "Give You All the Love (Inside of Me)," showcasing funky strums and crunchy chords from Hendrix-inspired guitarist Moses Mo, pulsing clavinet from keyboard player Mike Keck, and double-trouble rhythm mastery courtesy of bassist Jerry "Wyzard" Seay and drummer Barry "B.B. Queen" Borden. Another highlight is the confrontational "Niggizz Can't Sang Rock & Roll," which at the time managed to ruffle feathers on both sides of the racial divide, and featured Murdock displaying just as much passion and virtually as many vocal chops as his better half. Unfortunately, widespread success would continue to elude Mother's Finest despite this album's many strengths -- perhaps because their songs were ultimately built to pay bigger dividends on-stage than on the radio, perhaps simply due to bad timing -- and thus a star-crossed, uneven career would follow. But for those able to appreciate where the band and its unique musical vision were coming from, it doesn't get much better than this singular LP. [Rock Candy's reissue includes two bonus tracks recorded live in 1979.]
Macon, Georgia's answer to Sly & the Family Stone, Mother's Finest spent the first half of the ‘70s vying for work in bars and clubs across the American Southeast -- every last one of which probably possessed an unsigned local resident Southern rock act. And though they even got as far as releasing an oft-forgotten 1972 album that pleased neither their label RCA nor themselves, Mother's Finest would only be properly "discovered" by Epic Records staff producer Tom Werman (Cheap Trick, Ted Nugent, etc.) several years later. By then, Mother's Finest had evolved into a fierce live proposition, armed with an explosive combination of urban funk and heavy rock, and this goes a long way toward explaining why this self-titled second try from 1976 frequently sounds like Sly Stone being infected with a welcome case of Nugent's "Cat Scratch Fever." For proof, listeners need look no further than the snarling riffs of first single "Fire," but they may just want to stick around ‘til the iron-soul powerhouse "My Baby" rolls around, and probably even through to the very last crash of album closer "Rain," since there is very little filler to be found in between. That first single, for example, may have stalled at number 93 on the American pop charts, but that's difficult to understand once Mother's Finest's co-lead vocal team of Joyce "Baby Jean" Kennedy (as fiery as Tina Turner, as soulful as Chaka Khan) and her hubby Glenn Murdock (no slouch himself) start going toe to toe. Not to be outdone, the band's instrumental contributors proceed to stretch their wings to the fullest on an epic jam named "Give You All the Love (Inside of Me)," showcasing funky strums and crunchy chords from Hendrix-inspired guitarist Moses Mo, pulsing clavinet from keyboard player Mike Keck, and double-trouble rhythm mastery courtesy of bassist Jerry "Wyzard" Seay and drummer Barry "B.B. Queen" Borden. Another highlight is the confrontational "Niggizz Can't Sang Rock & Roll," which at the time managed to ruffle feathers on both sides of the racial divide, and featured Murdock displaying just as much passion and virtually as many vocal chops as his better half. Unfortunately, widespread success would continue to elude Mother's Finest despite this album's many strengths -- perhaps because their songs were ultimately built to pay bigger dividends on-stage than on the radio, perhaps simply due to bad timing -- and thus a star-crossed, uneven career would follow. But for those able to appreciate where the band and its unique musical vision were coming from, it doesn't get much better than this singular LP. [Rock Candy's reissue includes two bonus tracks recorded live in 1979.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:00 (thirteen years ago)
478 Shuggie Otis - Freedom Flight 449 Points 4 Voteshttp://fonkadelica.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Freedom_Flight_1.jpgRYM #244 for 1971http://open.spotify.com/album/7suTZDEkiDpzkouw300noM
review[-] by Thom Jurek1971's Freedom Flight is perhaps, in its own way, every bit as adventurous and regal as Shuggie Otis' masterpiece, Inspiration Information. Produced by Shuggie's father, R&B legend Johnny Otis, the album features seven stellar, genre bending cuts, most of which were written or co-written by Shuggie. Oh yes, he was 15 was the time. Shuggie not only arranged the date, he played everything from guitars and bass organ to various percussion instruments. Additional musicians include Wilton Felder, Stix Hooper, Aynsley Dunbar, Preston Love, George Duke, and a trio of backing vocalists -- Clydie King, Venetta Field, and Shirley Matthews -- all of whom would grace Bob Dylan's Street Legal a few years later. In addition, Johnny employed a full string section for these sessions. Upon listening to Freedom Flight, the influence of Jimi Hendrix is everywhere. Not so much in Shuggie's playing, but in its texture and production. He and Johnny had obviously spent a lot of time listening to Axis: Bold As Love and Electric Ladyland. In addition, the recordings of Taj Mahal, Fred McDowell, and Frank Zappa figure in here, too. Freedom Flight boasts Shuggie's single greatest composition: "Strawberry Letter 23," a monster platinum single for the Brothers Johnson. But it's Shuggie's version that stands the test of time best. It's slower, much more baroque and paisley than the cover. The tenderness in Shuggie's voice as he intones the lyrics is a real draw. "Me And My Woman," is one of the funkiest blues tunes ever recorded, with its dirty keyboard bassline that George Clinton stole wholesale three years later. In addition, two long instrumental works that end the album, "Purple" (just try to convince someone that Prince didn't listen to this tune in particular, and this album in general, over and over again before forming his aesthetic), and the title tracks are visionary and expansive with jaw-droppingly virtuoso guitar playing that is so tastefully, soulfully, and elegantly executed it' still hard to believe after all these decades that a 15 year old ever played them: Stevie Ray Vaughan had nothing on Shuggie. Freedom Flight is just as important as Inspiration Information. It's a bit rawer, not quite as lush, but it is every bit as visionary and groundbreaking.
1971's Freedom Flight is perhaps, in its own way, every bit as adventurous and regal as Shuggie Otis' masterpiece, Inspiration Information. Produced by Shuggie's father, R&B legend Johnny Otis, the album features seven stellar, genre bending cuts, most of which were written or co-written by Shuggie. Oh yes, he was 15 was the time. Shuggie not only arranged the date, he played everything from guitars and bass organ to various percussion instruments. Additional musicians include Wilton Felder, Stix Hooper, Aynsley Dunbar, Preston Love, George Duke, and a trio of backing vocalists -- Clydie King, Venetta Field, and Shirley Matthews -- all of whom would grace Bob Dylan's Street Legal a few years later. In addition, Johnny employed a full string section for these sessions. Upon listening to Freedom Flight, the influence of Jimi Hendrix is everywhere. Not so much in Shuggie's playing, but in its texture and production. He and Johnny had obviously spent a lot of time listening to Axis: Bold As Love and Electric Ladyland. In addition, the recordings of Taj Mahal, Fred McDowell, and Frank Zappa figure in here, too. Freedom Flight boasts Shuggie's single greatest composition: "Strawberry Letter 23," a monster platinum single for the Brothers Johnson. But it's Shuggie's version that stands the test of time best. It's slower, much more baroque and paisley than the cover. The tenderness in Shuggie's voice as he intones the lyrics is a real draw. "Me And My Woman," is one of the funkiest blues tunes ever recorded, with its dirty keyboard bassline that George Clinton stole wholesale three years later. In addition, two long instrumental works that end the album, "Purple" (just try to convince someone that Prince didn't listen to this tune in particular, and this album in general, over and over again before forming his aesthetic), and the title tracks are visionary and expansive with jaw-droppingly virtuoso guitar playing that is so tastefully, soulfully, and elegantly executed it' still hard to believe after all these decades that a 15 year old ever played them: Stevie Ray Vaughan had nothing on Shuggie. Freedom Flight is just as important as Inspiration Information. It's a bit rawer, not quite as lush, but it is every bit as visionary and groundbreaking.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:08 (thirteen years ago)
Better album than Inspiration Information, imo
― brimstead, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:10 (thirteen years ago)
This Tony Allen/Africa 70 is cool. here's the spotify link btw. doesn't show up under a search for Tony Allen for some reason.http://open.spotify.com/album/3Z7ezuax5xSnfEbeEuYFkh
― wk, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:14 (thirteen years ago)
Cover of that Shuggie Otis album always reminds me of John Cale's Vintage Violence - same font, same general layout. Good record anyhow.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:19 (thirteen years ago)
477 Destroy All Monsters - 1974 1976 451 Points 4 Voteshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/_US3OpuvDhiI/TVGTA9Koo4I/AAAAAAAAAHY/KZAZMwaCqXU/s1600/cover2.jpg
review[-] by Ned RaggettWho knows what exactly prompted it, but one of the most unlikely box sets/multi-disc collections ever put out surfaced in 1994 courtesy of a co-release between Thurston Moore's Ecstatic Peace! and Byron Coley's Father Yod label -- and even got distribution via Warner Bros. at that! Covering the years in question, 1974-76 is an exhaustive three-disc overview of Destroy All Monsters' little-known early days, when the original core quartet were doing music for themselves and nobody else and punk was an incipient scene no matter where one looked. Given that the Asheton years are the ones most people would know, it's thrilling to hear what was going on before he came along -- while the Stooges were an admitted influence on the band, it was merely one of many. Kelley assembled the package, providing the collage of band-created artwork and an informative history of the group, its ties to Ann Arbor, and the desire of the four to do something well beyond the surrounding milieu of post-hippie/frat row life in the town. Given that everything was recorded on cheap tape using often broken or run-down equipment, the sound is still quite good. The three discs clearly show that the band definitely had the same "try anything, screw the rules, and what is supposed to be quality" approach that fellow acts like Pere Ubu, Suicide, and Chrome were coming up with, only steering even further away from what rock was supposed to be. The inclusion of some free jazz guest performers from the area isn't surprising at all, squalling sax and other brass popping up here and there. With a rhythm box providing the percussion and everything from traditional guitars and bass to any number of appliances providing the other sounds, along with Niagara's alternately sassy and sweet singing and other odd spoken word bits, the end result is woozy weirdness of high quality. The occasional cover surfaces -- "Mack the Knife," "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" -- but otherwise it's all original, from the bad movie snippets to the drones and murky hooks throughout. Some of the Asheton tracks surface towards the end, and okay enough rock they are too, but it's the real band material that needs to be heard, and now finally can be, in spades.
Who knows what exactly prompted it, but one of the most unlikely box sets/multi-disc collections ever put out surfaced in 1994 courtesy of a co-release between Thurston Moore's Ecstatic Peace! and Byron Coley's Father Yod label -- and even got distribution via Warner Bros. at that! Covering the years in question, 1974-76 is an exhaustive three-disc overview of Destroy All Monsters' little-known early days, when the original core quartet were doing music for themselves and nobody else and punk was an incipient scene no matter where one looked. Given that the Asheton years are the ones most people would know, it's thrilling to hear what was going on before he came along -- while the Stooges were an admitted influence on the band, it was merely one of many. Kelley assembled the package, providing the collage of band-created artwork and an informative history of the group, its ties to Ann Arbor, and the desire of the four to do something well beyond the surrounding milieu of post-hippie/frat row life in the town. Given that everything was recorded on cheap tape using often broken or run-down equipment, the sound is still quite good. The three discs clearly show that the band definitely had the same "try anything, screw the rules, and what is supposed to be quality" approach that fellow acts like Pere Ubu, Suicide, and Chrome were coming up with, only steering even further away from what rock was supposed to be. The inclusion of some free jazz guest performers from the area isn't surprising at all, squalling sax and other brass popping up here and there. With a rhythm box providing the percussion and everything from traditional guitars and bass to any number of appliances providing the other sounds, along with Niagara's alternately sassy and sweet singing and other odd spoken word bits, the end result is woozy weirdness of high quality. The occasional cover surfaces -- "Mack the Knife," "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" -- but otherwise it's all original, from the bad movie snippets to the drones and murky hooks throughout. Some of the Asheton tracks surface towards the end, and okay enough rock they are too, but it's the real band material that needs to be heard, and now finally can be, in spades.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:21 (thirteen years ago)
Damn, still never heard that either. How available is it these days?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:25 (thirteen years ago)
476 Johnny "Guitar" Watson - Ain't That A Bitch 452 Points 5 Voteshttp://image.lyricspond.com/image/j/artist-johnny-guitar-watson/album-aint-that-a-bitch/cd-cover.jpgRYM #432 for 1976
reviewby Bill DahlObviously, the storming funk workout that gives this 1977 gold album its title is the album's principal draw (it's been covered countless times, but never duplicated). As was his wont by this time, the multitalented Watson plays everything except drums and horns.
Obviously, the storming funk workout that gives this 1977 gold album its title is the album's principal draw (it's been covered countless times, but never duplicated). As was his wont by this time, the multitalented Watson plays everything except drums and horns.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:30 (thirteen years ago)
wrong review
review[-] by Stephen CookComing out of Houston's fertile blues scene with Albert Collins and Johnny Copeland, Johnny "Guitar" Watson trod the same route to fame that his peers did in the latter half of the '50s and for most of the '60s. Unlike Collins and Copeland, though, Watson found his biggest success as a funkster in the '70s. And lest one thinks of an aging blues legend embarrassing himself aping the innovations of George Clinton and Sly Stone, Watson found a singular groove by slicking up his already urbane blues style with lots of tasty horn arrangements, plenty of fat basslines, and wah-wah-issue guitar licks. The latter element, of course, was to be expected from a virtuoso such as Watson. And whether reeling off one of his subtle solos or blending in with the band, the reborn blues star was never less than compelling. Ain't That a Bitch, from 1976, heralded Watson's new funk era with plenty of guitar treats and one of the best batch of songs he ever cooked up. The variety here is stunning, ranging from the calypso-based blues swinger "I Need It" to the quiet storm soul ballad "Since I Met You Baby." In between, Watson goes widescreen with the comic book funk of "Superman Lover" and eases into an after-hours mood on the organ-driven jazz and blues gem "I Want to Ta-Ta You Baby." Besides the fine Watson roundups on the Rhino and Charly labels, Ain't That a Bitch works beautifully as a first-disc choice for newcomers, especially those who want to hear the '70s funk material.
Coming out of Houston's fertile blues scene with Albert Collins and Johnny Copeland, Johnny "Guitar" Watson trod the same route to fame that his peers did in the latter half of the '50s and for most of the '60s. Unlike Collins and Copeland, though, Watson found his biggest success as a funkster in the '70s. And lest one thinks of an aging blues legend embarrassing himself aping the innovations of George Clinton and Sly Stone, Watson found a singular groove by slicking up his already urbane blues style with lots of tasty horn arrangements, plenty of fat basslines, and wah-wah-issue guitar licks. The latter element, of course, was to be expected from a virtuoso such as Watson. And whether reeling off one of his subtle solos or blending in with the band, the reborn blues star was never less than compelling. Ain't That a Bitch, from 1976, heralded Watson's new funk era with plenty of guitar treats and one of the best batch of songs he ever cooked up. The variety here is stunning, ranging from the calypso-based blues swinger "I Need It" to the quiet storm soul ballad "Since I Met You Baby." In between, Watson goes widescreen with the comic book funk of "Superman Lover" and eases into an after-hours mood on the organ-driven jazz and blues gem "I Want to Ta-Ta You Baby." Besides the fine Watson roundups on the Rhino and Charly labels, Ain't That a Bitch works beautifully as a first-disc choice for newcomers, especially those who want to hear the '70s funk material.
http://open.spotify.com/album/2p9rPoWItqbpjcmM1xOiz5
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:31 (thirteen years ago)
TIE474 Faces - First Step 455 Points 4 Voteshttp://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_oAl0zeNEg/TEV6DxqDOAI/AAAAAAAABXE/lTPXc4dkq7c/s1600/First+Step.jpgRYM #470 for 1970
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineThe notorious sloppiness of the Faces was apparent on their debut, almost moreso on the cover than on the music, as the group was stilled billed as the Small Faces on this 1970 debut although without Steve Marriott in front, and with Rod Stewart and Ron Wood in tow, they were no longer Small. They were now larger than life, or at least mythic, because it's hard to call an album that concludes with a riotous ode to a hand-me-down suit as larger than life. That was the charm of the Faces, a group who always seemed like the boys next door made good, no matter where next door was. Part of the reason they seemed so relatable was that legendary messiness - after all, it's hard not to love somebody if they so openly displayed their flaws - but on their debut, it was hard not to see the messiness as merely the result of the old Faces getting accustomed to the new guys. Fresh from their seminal work with Jeff Beck, Rod and Ron bring a healthy dose of Beck's powerful bastardized blues, bracingly heard on the opening cover of "Wicked Messenger," but there's a key difference here; without Beck's guitar genius, this roar doesn't sound quite so titanic, it hits in the gut. That can also be heard and Rod and Woody's "Around the Plynth," or "Three Button Hand Me Down," which is ragged rocking at its finest. Combine that with Ronnie Lane and Ian McLagan finding their ways as songwriters in the wake of the Small Faces' mod implosion, and this goes in even more directions. Lane unveils his gentle, folky side on "Stone," McLagan kicks in "Looking Out the Window" and "Three Button Hand Me Down." All these are moments that are good, often great, but the record doesn't quite gel, yet that doesn't quite matter. the Faces is a band that proves that sometimes loose ends are as great as tidiness, that living in the moment is what's necessary, and this First Step is a record filled with individual moments, each one to be savored.
The notorious sloppiness of the Faces was apparent on their debut, almost moreso on the cover than on the music, as the group was stilled billed as the Small Faces on this 1970 debut although without Steve Marriott in front, and with Rod Stewart and Ron Wood in tow, they were no longer Small. They were now larger than life, or at least mythic, because it's hard to call an album that concludes with a riotous ode to a hand-me-down suit as larger than life. That was the charm of the Faces, a group who always seemed like the boys next door made good, no matter where next door was. Part of the reason they seemed so relatable was that legendary messiness - after all, it's hard not to love somebody if they so openly displayed their flaws - but on their debut, it was hard not to see the messiness as merely the result of the old Faces getting accustomed to the new guys. Fresh from their seminal work with Jeff Beck, Rod and Ron bring a healthy dose of Beck's powerful bastardized blues, bracingly heard on the opening cover of "Wicked Messenger," but there's a key difference here; without Beck's guitar genius, this roar doesn't sound quite so titanic, it hits in the gut. That can also be heard and Rod and Woody's "Around the Plynth," or "Three Button Hand Me Down," which is ragged rocking at its finest. Combine that with Ronnie Lane and Ian McLagan finding their ways as songwriters in the wake of the Small Faces' mod implosion, and this goes in even more directions. Lane unveils his gentle, folky side on "Stone," McLagan kicks in "Looking Out the Window" and "Three Button Hand Me Down." All these are moments that are good, often great, but the record doesn't quite gel, yet that doesn't quite matter. the Faces is a band that proves that sometimes loose ends are as great as tidiness, that living in the moment is what's necessary, and this First Step is a record filled with individual moments, each one to be savored.
474 The Runaways - Queens of Noise 455 Points 4 Voteshttp://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5xlnixWJh1r19b3po1_500.jpg#515 for 1977
reviewby Alex HendersonThe Runaways didn't compromise a bit on their outstanding sophomore effort, Queens of Noise. Melodic yet tough and aggressive, this is hard rock that pulls no punches either musically or lyrically. Classics like "Neon Angels (On the Road to Ruin)," "Take It or Leave It," and "I Love Playing with Fire" wouldn't have been shocking coming from Aerosmith or Kiss, but suburban adolescent girls singing openly and honestly about casual sex, intoxication, and wild all-night parties was certainly radical for 1977. Joan Jett and Cherie Currie articulated the thoughts and feelings of the "bad girls" Kiss and countless others were describing, and they didn't hesitate to say that yes, women fantasized about sex. "Johnny Guitar" is a fine vehicle for guitarist/singer Lita Ford, who had solid chops before she was old enough to vote. Queens of Noise would be Currie's last album with the groundbreaking band.
The Runaways didn't compromise a bit on their outstanding sophomore effort, Queens of Noise. Melodic yet tough and aggressive, this is hard rock that pulls no punches either musically or lyrically. Classics like "Neon Angels (On the Road to Ruin)," "Take It or Leave It," and "I Love Playing with Fire" wouldn't have been shocking coming from Aerosmith or Kiss, but suburban adolescent girls singing openly and honestly about casual sex, intoxication, and wild all-night parties was certainly radical for 1977. Joan Jett and Cherie Currie articulated the thoughts and feelings of the "bad girls" Kiss and countless others were describing, and they didn't hesitate to say that yes, women fantasized about sex. "Johnny Guitar" is a fine vehicle for guitarist/singer Lita Ford, who had solid chops before she was old enough to vote. Queens of Noise would be Currie's last album with the groundbreaking band.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:39 (thirteen years ago)
473 Smegma - Glamour Girl 1941 458 Points, 3 Voteshttp://outofprint-store1.s3.amazonaws.com/store%2Fproduction%2Fwww.outofprint.be%2Farticle%2Fimage%2F34820_1_914.jpgRYM #491 for 1979
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:43 (thirteen years ago)
472 Iron Maiden - The Soundhouse Tapes 459 Points 3 Voteshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v0woHQ_nl68/TOPr_FxhZdI/AAAAAAAAAyY/rw_2o2-GPRI/s1600/iron_maiden_1979_the_soundhouse_tapes_front.jpg
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaReviewing a demo recording may seem like a completely pointless exercise. But when the demo in question is influential enough that the average fan knows it by name, its humble intentions transcend beyond the normal bounds of an imperfect pre-career statement. Such is the case for Iron Maiden's legendary Soundhouse Tapes, which became one of the linchpins of the then-emerging New Wave of British Heavy Metal upon its release in November 1979. Recorded nearly a year earlier and named after one of the group's regular early haunts, the rough recordings gave sympathetic DJs clamoring for Iron Maiden material something to spin while the band still waited for a well-deserved record deal to materialize. Containing three early day live favorites ("Iron Maiden," "Invasion," and "Prowler"), the original 7" vinyl's initial 5,000 unit pressing sold out via mail order in less than a week and offered conclusive proof of the band's potential appeal to EMI, which subsequently rewarded them with an impressive five-album deal. The rest, as they say, is history, and while quite impossible to find in its original pressing, occasional re-releases have kept Soundhouse Tapes' legend alive and well over the years. [When Sony Music reissued the entire Iron Maiden catalog (for the third time) in 2002 using a slipcase, mini-LP package, avid fans who purchased six titles were given the chance to remit the stickers inside, along with a check for six dollars and 66 cents (get it?) to receive their very own copy of Soundhouse Tapes on CD.]
Reviewing a demo recording may seem like a completely pointless exercise. But when the demo in question is influential enough that the average fan knows it by name, its humble intentions transcend beyond the normal bounds of an imperfect pre-career statement. Such is the case for Iron Maiden's legendary Soundhouse Tapes, which became one of the linchpins of the then-emerging New Wave of British Heavy Metal upon its release in November 1979. Recorded nearly a year earlier and named after one of the group's regular early haunts, the rough recordings gave sympathetic DJs clamoring for Iron Maiden material something to spin while the band still waited for a well-deserved record deal to materialize. Containing three early day live favorites ("Iron Maiden," "Invasion," and "Prowler"), the original 7" vinyl's initial 5,000 unit pressing sold out via mail order in less than a week and offered conclusive proof of the band's potential appeal to EMI, which subsequently rewarded them with an impressive five-album deal. The rest, as they say, is history, and while quite impossible to find in its original pressing, occasional re-releases have kept Soundhouse Tapes' legend alive and well over the years. [When Sony Music reissued the entire Iron Maiden catalog (for the third time) in 2002 using a slipcase, mini-LP package, avid fans who purchased six titles were given the chance to remit the stickers inside, along with a check for six dollars and 66 cents (get it?) to receive their very own copy of Soundhouse Tapes on CD.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:48 (thirteen years ago)
Faces! I'm flyyyyiiinnng
― brimstead, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:50 (thirteen years ago)
471 Thin Lizzy - Bad Reputation 460 Points 3 Voteshttp://distro.todestrieb.co.uk/images/large/covers12/thinlizzy-badreputation_LRG.jpgRYM #62 for 1977 , #3080 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2fF9jiuJYCq1jMpmNewzYi
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineIf Thin Lizzy got a bit too grand and florid on Johnny the Fox, they quickly corrected themselves on its 1977 follow-up, Bad Reputation. Teaming up with legendary producer Tony Visconti, Thin Lizzy managed to pull off a nifty trick of sounding leaner and tougher than they did on Johnny, yet they also had a broader sonic palette. Much of this is due, of course, to Visconti, who always had a flair for subtle dramatics that never called attention to themselves, and he puts this to use in dramatic effect here, to the extent that Lizzy sound stripped down to their bare bones, even when they have horns pushing them forward on "Dancing in the Moonlight" or when overdubbed vocals pile up on the title track. Of course, they were stripped down to a trio for most of this record: guitarist Brian Robertson (who'd injured his hand) had to sit out on most of the recording, but Scott Gorham's double duty makes his absence unnoticeable. Plus, this is pure visceral rock & roll, the hardest and heaviest that Thin Lizzy ever made, living up to the promise of the title track. And, as always, a lot of this has to do with Phil Lynott's writing, which is in top form whether he's romanticizing "Soldiers of Fortune" or heading down the "Opium Trail." It adds up to an album that rivals Jailbreak as their best studio album.
If Thin Lizzy got a bit too grand and florid on Johnny the Fox, they quickly corrected themselves on its 1977 follow-up, Bad Reputation. Teaming up with legendary producer Tony Visconti, Thin Lizzy managed to pull off a nifty trick of sounding leaner and tougher than they did on Johnny, yet they also had a broader sonic palette. Much of this is due, of course, to Visconti, who always had a flair for subtle dramatics that never called attention to themselves, and he puts this to use in dramatic effect here, to the extent that Lizzy sound stripped down to their bare bones, even when they have horns pushing them forward on "Dancing in the Moonlight" or when overdubbed vocals pile up on the title track. Of course, they were stripped down to a trio for most of this record: guitarist Brian Robertson (who'd injured his hand) had to sit out on most of the recording, but Scott Gorham's double duty makes his absence unnoticeable. Plus, this is pure visceral rock & roll, the hardest and heaviest that Thin Lizzy ever made, living up to the promise of the title track. And, as always, a lot of this has to do with Phil Lynott's writing, which is in top form whether he's romanticizing "Soldiers of Fortune" or heading down the "Opium Trail." It adds up to an album that rivals Jailbreak as their best studio album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:55 (thirteen years ago)
Impressive result for Smegma!
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:57 (thirteen years ago)
^ creepy tape fuckery btw, guess most people know them from the NWW list?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 16 March 2013 00:58 (thirteen years ago)
470 Magma - Köhntarkösz 461 Points 3 Voteshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WWIy23PK7tM/TJulmC09aKI/AAAAAAAAKao/8pkgOu0EUiw/s1600/cover.jpg RYM #53 for 1974 , #1808 overall
review[-] by Dominique LeoneMagma's famed "Kobaian" saga took a detour with this 1974 release. Drummer Christian Vander's band had heretofore specialized in a brand of progressive rock that had more in common with the Teutonic grandeur of Richard Wagner than the Baroque ornamentation of Yes or Gentle Giant. Kohntarkosz witnessed a change in sound to something altogether stranger, yet by many accounts, more conventionally beautiful. Vander is on record as saying he was worried that other artists had been "stealing" his ideas (most notably, Mike Oldfield, who had been a studio visitor during the sessions for Mekanik Destruktiw Kommanoh), and that may have been the impetus for the new direction. This album emphasized smoother, more textural arrangements than previous Magma efforts. The cyclical themes in the two-part title suite, along with the trance-inducing repetition of the group vocals, were a far cry from the controlled martial fury of earlier records. However, the lengthy solo jam in "Kohntarkosz, Pt. 2" demonstrates that Magma was hardly married to convoluted themes and languages; the band could work up an improvisational fire with the best fusion bands. Jannick Top's "Ork Alarm" is a short piece featuring aggressive cello and guttural vocals that is perhaps out of place on this album; Vander's gorgeous "Coltrane Sundia," an homage to the late jazz legend, ends Kohntarkosz on a solemn, peaceful note. Although the definitive version of the title suite is found on 1975's Magma Live, this record stands alongside the best Magma studio releases.
Magma's famed "Kobaian" saga took a detour with this 1974 release. Drummer Christian Vander's band had heretofore specialized in a brand of progressive rock that had more in common with the Teutonic grandeur of Richard Wagner than the Baroque ornamentation of Yes or Gentle Giant. Kohntarkosz witnessed a change in sound to something altogether stranger, yet by many accounts, more conventionally beautiful. Vander is on record as saying he was worried that other artists had been "stealing" his ideas (most notably, Mike Oldfield, who had been a studio visitor during the sessions for Mekanik Destruktiw Kommanoh), and that may have been the impetus for the new direction. This album emphasized smoother, more textural arrangements than previous Magma efforts. The cyclical themes in the two-part title suite, along with the trance-inducing repetition of the group vocals, were a far cry from the controlled martial fury of earlier records. However, the lengthy solo jam in "Kohntarkosz, Pt. 2" demonstrates that Magma was hardly married to convoluted themes and languages; the band could work up an improvisational fire with the best fusion bands. Jannick Top's "Ork Alarm" is a short piece featuring aggressive cello and guttural vocals that is perhaps out of place on this album; Vander's gorgeous "Coltrane Sundia," an homage to the late jazz legend, ends Kohntarkosz on a solemn, peaceful note. Although the definitive version of the title suite is found on 1975's Magma Live, this record stands alongside the best Magma studio releases.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:00 (thirteen years ago)
Yaaay Runaways! I only voted for 20 things so expect me to yaaay for them all.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:05 (thirteen years ago)
Anyone want more tonight?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:07 (thirteen years ago)
Sorry I was out!! What a great stretch of records!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:18 (thirteen years ago)
469 Khan - Space Shanty 463 Points, 5 Voteshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rty8bcqTY7M/Tv8H3yWQnxI/AAAAAAAAACM/R-xtrrT8puk/s1600/Khan-Space-Shanty-397468.jpgRYM #70 for 1972 , #2043 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3H1Al8EeGuAeAMje8Bng1g
reviewby Richie UnterbergerAlmost stereotypically overreaching early-'70s progressive rock; quasi-operatic vocals, spinning guitar solos, lengthy suite-like tracks on the order of "Stargazers" and "Hollow Stone (incl. Escape of the Space Pilots)." The highlight is Stewart's effervescent organ work during the gentle and meditative passages.
Almost stereotypically overreaching early-'70s progressive rock; quasi-operatic vocals, spinning guitar solos, lengthy suite-like tracks on the order of "Stargazers" and "Hollow Stone (incl. Escape of the Space Pilots)." The highlight is Stewart's effervescent organ work during the gentle and meditative passages.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:18 (thirteen years ago)
I'll take more but if you want to stop you can.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:19 (thirteen years ago)
I love the sleeve artwork of Space Shanty
― brimstead, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:19 (thirteen years ago)
Khan is not available in my country. Booo!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:20 (thirteen years ago)
I'm following, but also busy assembling stuff for the rest of the rollout!
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:21 (thirteen years ago)
xpost KHAAAAAAAN
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:21 (thirteen years ago)
I'm listening to FTB's cover of 21st century schizoid man right now it might be better than the original! </challops>
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:24 (thirteen years ago)
TIE467 James Brown - Love Power Peace 464 Points 4 Votes http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dz5mrOSwV6Y/T_sz8Bc1kMI/AAAAAAAAARY/lrcU-pSrgrM/s1600/731451338922.jpg
467 Jethro Tull - Aquadung 464 Points 4 Voteshttp://ring.cdandlp.com/elysee/photo_grande/115159591.jpgRYM #12 for 1971 , #193 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0NGM3Ftwjw0dLNpAowmz3x
review[-] by Bruce EderReleased at a time when a lot of bands were embracing pop-Christianity (à la Jesus Christ Superstar), Aqualung was a bold statement for a rock group, a pro-God antichurch tract that probably got lots of teenagers wrestling with these ideas for the first time in their lives. This was the album that made Jethro Tull a fixture on FM radio, with riff-heavy songs like "My God," "Hymn 43," "Locomotive Breath," "Cross-Eyed Mary," "Wind Up," and the title track. And from there, they became a major arena act, and a fixture at the top of the record charts for most of the 1970s. Mixing hard rock and folk melodies with Ian Anderson's dour musings on faith and religion (mostly how organized religion had restricted man's relationship with God), the record was extremely profound for a number seven chart hit, one of the most cerebral albums ever to reach millions of rock listeners. Indeed, from this point on, Anderson and company were compelled to stretch the lyrical envelope right to the breaking point.
Released at a time when a lot of bands were embracing pop-Christianity (à la Jesus Christ Superstar), Aqualung was a bold statement for a rock group, a pro-God antichurch tract that probably got lots of teenagers wrestling with these ideas for the first time in their lives. This was the album that made Jethro Tull a fixture on FM radio, with riff-heavy songs like "My God," "Hymn 43," "Locomotive Breath," "Cross-Eyed Mary," "Wind Up," and the title track. And from there, they became a major arena act, and a fixture at the top of the record charts for most of the 1970s. Mixing hard rock and folk melodies with Ian Anderson's dour musings on faith and religion (mostly how organized religion had restricted man's relationship with God), the record was extremely profound for a number seven chart hit, one of the most cerebral albums ever to reach millions of rock listeners. Indeed, from this point on, Anderson and company were compelled to stretch the lyrical envelope right to the breaking point.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:25 (thirteen years ago)
WTF Aqualung was about God stuff? I've listened to the album at least a dozen times and never picked up on any of that.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:26 (thirteen years ago)
I might be a bit thick... as a specific object.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:27 (thirteen years ago)
Then again I have to point out all the obvious Xianity stuff in Master of Reality sometimes to friends...
This just came out Wednesday:Looking Back (and Forward) on Jethro Tull's 'Thick As a Brick'http://www.popmatters.com/pm/feature/166734-looking-back-and-foreword-on-jethro-tulls/
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:34 (thirteen years ago)
Destroy All Monsters 1974/1976 was a top-20 pick, and though the Chrome comparisons are OTM in terms of lo-fi basement ambiance, this triple-disc set is stocked w/ ambling and occasionally freeform psych episodes that only occasionally rock (though they're v. cool and def. rawk). closer comparisons might be Throbbing Gristle, early SPK, Wreck Small Speakers on Expensive Stereos, Jandek, early Half Japanese, early Pain Teens, F/i's Past Darkly Future Brightly, Smog's Sewn to the Sky, Mahogany Brain and more recently Eric Copeland and probably half of the Not Not Fun roster. (freeform noise isn't usually my thing, so I'm sure others could make better comparisons). three of my fave tracks from 74/76:
Conga: http://youtu.be/yQWNwVyV17gShiver: http://youtu.be/xmF5ltz1HAQTo the Throne of Chaos: http://youtu.be/2kSHjd1uOvU
― Hellhouse, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:34 (thirteen years ago)
466 Led Zeppelin - Presence 464 Points 5 Voteshttp://www.terminal-boredom.com/presence.jpgRYM #218 for 1976
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewinePresence scales back the size of Physical Graffiti to a single album, but it retains the grandiose scope of that double record. If anything, Presence has more majestic epics than its predecessor, opening with the surging, ten-minute "Achilles Last Stand" and closing with the meandering, nearly ten-minute "Tea for One." In between, Led Zeppelin add the lumbering blues workout "Nobody's Fault But Mine" and the terse, menacing "For Your Life," which is the best song on the album. These four tracks take up the bulk of the album, leaving three lighthearted throwaways to alleviate the foreboding atmosphere -- and pretensions -- of the epics. If all of the throwaways were as focused and funny as those on Physical Graffiti or Houses of the Holy, Zeppelin would have had another classic on their hands.
Presence scales back the size of Physical Graffiti to a single album, but it retains the grandiose scope of that double record. If anything, Presence has more majestic epics than its predecessor, opening with the surging, ten-minute "Achilles Last Stand" and closing with the meandering, nearly ten-minute "Tea for One." In between, Led Zeppelin add the lumbering blues workout "Nobody's Fault But Mine" and the terse, menacing "For Your Life," which is the best song on the album. These four tracks take up the bulk of the album, leaving three lighthearted throwaways to alleviate the foreboding atmosphere -- and pretensions -- of the epics. If all of the throwaways were as focused and funny as those on Physical Graffiti or Houses of the Holy, Zeppelin would have had another classic on their hands.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:35 (thirteen years ago)
I suppose I may as well take it down to 451 if you're all gonna be around
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:38 (thirteen years ago)
I've never heard that album, probably because it wasn't my dad owned while I was growing up.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:39 (thirteen years ago)
I read a good reassessment of Presence about 6-8 yrs ago that inspired me to dig back into it. Can't remember where it was from though! Ima gonna make a drink and order food but will be around.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:39 (thirteen years ago)
465 The Sensational Alex Harvey Band - Framed 468 Points 3 Voteshttp://www.caratulas.com/caratulas/T/The_Sensational_Alex_Harvey_Band/The_Sensational_Alex_Harvey_Band-Framed-Frontal.jpg#153 for 1973 , #4595 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6anl2vYU9wr5h1kEh5XAQ4
reviewby Steven McDonaldHarvey's merger with Tear Gas, a faltering rock band, was the smartest move of his career. With a heady mix of theatrics and driving rock, SAHB quickly made a name for themselves across England, releasing this album along the way. Harvey struts and yowls and gets raunchy (prefiguring the SAHB version of "Delilah") while Zal Cleminson rips up the territory with some astounding guitar work. A great debut and a hell of a rock album.
Harvey's merger with Tear Gas, a faltering rock band, was the smartest move of his career. With a heady mix of theatrics and driving rock, SAHB quickly made a name for themselves across England, releasing this album along the way. Harvey struts and yowls and gets raunchy (prefiguring the SAHB version of "Delilah") while Zal Cleminson rips up the territory with some astounding guitar work. A great debut and a hell of a rock album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:44 (thirteen years ago)
I don't think this band ever crossed over to the states. I'd never heard of them before the tracks poll.
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:52 (thirteen years ago)
464 Graham Central Station - Now Do U Wanna Dance 468 Points 4 Voteshttp://991.com/newgallery/Graham-Central-Station-Now-Do-U-Wanta-Da-541208.jpg
reviewby Craig LytleThe fifth album from the funk aggregate generated a smash hit with the title track, "Now Do-U-Wanta Dance." Paced by Larry Graham's rumbling bass and animated lead vocals, which feature the group leader on the vocorder, the synthesized funk track stayed on the Billboard R&B charts for ten weeks, peaking at number ten. The influence doo wop had on the bassist is revealed on songs like "Stomped Beat-Up and Whooped" and "Happ-E-2-C-U-A-Ginn." The former, paced by a rhythm track and Gail Muldrow's vocals, has a catchy hook phrase; it was the second single from the album to hit the Billboard R&B charts (number 25, 11 weeks). The latter is an upbeat, joyous a cappella number groomed around a melodious arrangement, Graham's streetcorner ad libs, and the group's vocal exchanges. Larry Graham's musical talents are inviting. He gives his own rendition of the Al Green classic "Love and Happiness." Maintaining that soulful appeal, Graham injects his robust riffs and his own dose of funk throughout this album. Even when he tones down the funk, the relish always remains present.
The fifth album from the funk aggregate generated a smash hit with the title track, "Now Do-U-Wanta Dance." Paced by Larry Graham's rumbling bass and animated lead vocals, which feature the group leader on the vocorder, the synthesized funk track stayed on the Billboard R&B charts for ten weeks, peaking at number ten. The influence doo wop had on the bassist is revealed on songs like "Stomped Beat-Up and Whooped" and "Happ-E-2-C-U-A-Ginn." The former, paced by a rhythm track and Gail Muldrow's vocals, has a catchy hook phrase; it was the second single from the album to hit the Billboard R&B charts (number 25, 11 weeks). The latter is an upbeat, joyous a cappella number groomed around a melodious arrangement, Graham's streetcorner ad libs, and the group's vocal exchanges. Larry Graham's musical talents are inviting. He gives his own rendition of the Al Green classic "Love and Happiness." Maintaining that soulful appeal, Graham injects his robust riffs and his own dose of funk throughout this album. Even when he tones down the funk, the relish always remains present.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 01:58 (thirteen years ago)
Lots of funk in this rollout!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:00 (thirteen years ago)
463 Michael Rother - Sterntaler 473 Points, 4 Voteshttp://ring.cdandlp.com/gintonic/photo_grande/114253781.jpgRYM #307 for 1978http://open.spotify.com/album/7MdQCuPtTOYIQOlb7QccZv
review[-] by Thom JurekSterntaler marked the beginning of Michael Rother's deep preoccupation with introspective melodies projected outward. Where Flammende Herzen was full of anthemic instrumental rock that was constructed to be just that, Sterntaler is more reflective even if its drive is as insistent and mechanically accurate. Again collaborating with producer Conny Plank and Can's drummer, Jaki Leibzeit, Rother set out with Sterntaler to create true electronic rock music -- even if what he came up with was the first real ambient trance music. Unlike his former bandmates in Kraftwerk and Harmonia who had wholeheartedly embraced electronic music as an end in and of itself, Rother was deeply entrenched in the idea that the entire idea for synthesizers and drum machines was to make rock & roll itself more futuristic. What's so odd about that notion is his method of composition. On the opener, "Sonnenrad," his signature electric guitar sound plays melodies that are almost folk-like in their simplicity over his trademark Motorik percussion and rhythmic churn. On "Blauer-Regen" Leibzeit's cymbals mark the simple chord changes on an introspective ballad filled with the sounds of falling rain cascading down through the guitars. "Stremlinien" and the title track are more hypnotic rock tracks with veritable choruses of guitars all playing the same notes in harmony over a cut-time drumbeat and Leibzeit's percussive embellishments. Keyboards swim through the mix, creating a chords progression -- though it feels like one phrase over and over again -- and Rother concentrates on using a slide guitar to control and advance dynamics in the swirl. This is awesome driving music, perfect maybe for the Autobahn, but certainly for American two-lane blacktops during the first flush of fall.
Sterntaler marked the beginning of Michael Rother's deep preoccupation with introspective melodies projected outward. Where Flammende Herzen was full of anthemic instrumental rock that was constructed to be just that, Sterntaler is more reflective even if its drive is as insistent and mechanically accurate. Again collaborating with producer Conny Plank and Can's drummer, Jaki Leibzeit, Rother set out with Sterntaler to create true electronic rock music -- even if what he came up with was the first real ambient trance music. Unlike his former bandmates in Kraftwerk and Harmonia who had wholeheartedly embraced electronic music as an end in and of itself, Rother was deeply entrenched in the idea that the entire idea for synthesizers and drum machines was to make rock & roll itself more futuristic. What's so odd about that notion is his method of composition. On the opener, "Sonnenrad," his signature electric guitar sound plays melodies that are almost folk-like in their simplicity over his trademark Motorik percussion and rhythmic churn. On "Blauer-Regen" Leibzeit's cymbals mark the simple chord changes on an introspective ballad filled with the sounds of falling rain cascading down through the guitars. "Stremlinien" and the title track are more hypnotic rock tracks with veritable choruses of guitars all playing the same notes in harmony over a cut-time drumbeat and Leibzeit's percussive embellishments. Keyboards swim through the mix, creating a chords progression -- though it feels like one phrase over and over again -- and Rother concentrates on using a slide guitar to control and advance dynamics in the swirl. This is awesome driving music, perfect maybe for the Autobahn, but certainly for American two-lane blacktops during the first flush of fall.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:10 (thirteen years ago)
xp Alex Harvey is so good. I talked about that some when discussing "The Faith Healer" in the singles thread. I had only first heard of him when I was digging deep into glam stuff in the 90s.
Michael Rother has been a key Kosmische player since before he briefly was a member of Kraftwerk. He and Dinger established the influential “motorik rhythm” (a misnomer due to the fact that the subtle inconsistencies are distinctly humanoid) in Neu!, and breaking further boundaries in collaborating with Cluster in Harmonia. It’s often been mentioned that Rother turned down an opportunity to collaborate with Bowie. The truth came out, according to David Buckley’s Bowie bio, Strange Fascination, in a 2001 email exchange between the two that neither had turned the other down, but rather Bowie’s management tricked them into thinking so. How Rother would have influenced Bowie’s Berlin trilogy is anyone’s guess. The elliptical guitar playing in his solo work is certainly mellow, but the sublime, subtly shifting melodies end up with something more personal and emotional than he’d previously achieved. Working with producer Conny Plank and Can’s Jaki Leibzeit, his solo debut Flammende Herzen (Flaming Hearts) actually sold more copies initially than the Neu! and Harmonia albums combined. It also inspired a movie of the same title, created around the album as a soundtrack. The epic Sterntaler edges it out as the one to start with. Named after a Brothers Grimm tale, the sound is filled out with keyboards and vibraphones, bringing his background in Arabic music (he lived in Karachi, Pakistan as a child), Chopin and Hendrix into fullest realization. His creative arc continued with Katzenmusick (1979), which made NME‘s year-end top 40 list, and Fernwärme (1981), which mostly drops the guitar for chilly electronics. Impatient listeners might dismiss them as too new agey, but they’re far more rewarding than any other contemporary ambient work.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:15 (thirteen years ago)
Presence.is too low, thats a fun lil record
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:18 (thirteen years ago)
Also, I forgot about Sterntaler, would've voted for
Wow that sounds awesome, can't wait to check it out!
― Your spectacular host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:18 (thirteen years ago)
462 Little Feat - Feats Don't Fail Me Now 475 Points 3 Voteshttp://img.maniadb.com/images/album/177/177443_1_f.jpg RYM #81 for 1974 , #3038 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5nflfddG6Tlrt2YiZhXJAD
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineIf Dixie Chicken represented a pinnacle of Lowell George as a songwriter and band leader, its sequel Feats Don't Fail Me Now is the pinnacle of Little Feat as a group, showcasing each member at their finest. Not coincidentally, it's the moment where George begins to recede from the spotlight, leaving the band as a true democracy. These observations are only clear in hindsight, since if Feats Don't Fail Me Now is just taken as a record, it's nothing more than a damn good rock & roll record. That's not meant as a dismissal, either, since it's hard to make a rock & roll record as seemingly effortless and infectious as this. Though it effectively builds on the Southern-fried funkiness of Dixie Chicken, it's hardly as mellow as that record - there's a lot of grit, tougher rhythms, lots of guitar and organ. It's as supple as Chicken, though, which means that it's the sound of a touring band at their peak. As it happens, the band is on the top of their writing game as well, with Bill Payne contributing the rollicking "Oh Atlanta" and Paul Barrere turning in one of his best songs, the jazzy funk of "Skin it Back." Each has a co-writing credit with George -- Payne on the unreleased Little Feat-era nugget "The Fan" and Barrere (plus Fred Martin) on the infectious title track -- who also has a couple of classics with "Rock and Roll Doctor" and the great "Spanish Moon." Feats peters out toward the end, as the group delves into a 10-minute medley of two Sailin' Shoes songs, but that doesn't hurt one of the best albums Little Feat ever cut. It's so good, the group used it as the template for the rest of their career.
If Dixie Chicken represented a pinnacle of Lowell George as a songwriter and band leader, its sequel Feats Don't Fail Me Now is the pinnacle of Little Feat as a group, showcasing each member at their finest. Not coincidentally, it's the moment where George begins to recede from the spotlight, leaving the band as a true democracy. These observations are only clear in hindsight, since if Feats Don't Fail Me Now is just taken as a record, it's nothing more than a damn good rock & roll record. That's not meant as a dismissal, either, since it's hard to make a rock & roll record as seemingly effortless and infectious as this. Though it effectively builds on the Southern-fried funkiness of Dixie Chicken, it's hardly as mellow as that record - there's a lot of grit, tougher rhythms, lots of guitar and organ. It's as supple as Chicken, though, which means that it's the sound of a touring band at their peak. As it happens, the band is on the top of their writing game as well, with Bill Payne contributing the rollicking "Oh Atlanta" and Paul Barrere turning in one of his best songs, the jazzy funk of "Skin it Back." Each has a co-writing credit with George -- Payne on the unreleased Little Feat-era nugget "The Fan" and Barrere (plus Fred Martin) on the infectious title track -- who also has a couple of classics with "Rock and Roll Doctor" and the great "Spanish Moon." Feats peters out toward the end, as the group delves into a 10-minute medley of two Sailin' Shoes songs, but that doesn't hurt one of the best albums Little Feat ever cut. It's so good, the group used it as the template for the rest of their career.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:20 (thirteen years ago)
xp I meant to post this for Khan - Space Shanty:
Brace yourself for some tasty licks and free-flowing rock-jams on this Steve Hillage vehicle. Like a limber, bendy Quicksilver Messenger Service, Khan plied a fluid coherent symphonic prog (with construction based on the modernist essentials of Guitar/Bass/Drums/Organ) without too many of the jarring jump cuts that can bedevil Prog. Rilly nice. -- Woebot
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:27 (thirteen years ago)
461 Wishbone Ash - Pilgrimage 479 Points 3 Voteshttp://991.com/newGallery/Wishbone-Ash-Pilgrimage-211477.jpgRYM #227 for 1971http://open.spotify.com/album/7mbCAtpPslFbiyBrla2aGv
review[-] by Dave SlegerWishbone Ash's sophomore release, Pilgrimage, unveiled their creative genius after a debut that merely presented them as a boogie- and blues-based rock outfit. The opening track, "Vas Dis," with its jazz bassline, slicing rhythm guitar, and gibberish vocals was their answer to "Hocus Pocus" by Focus (or vice versa as both were released in 1971). "Jail Bait" has gone on to become a Wishbone Ash staple as well as possessing one of the more memorable guitar riffs of '70s rock & roll. A conscientious effort seemed to be in place for this band to write and perform material better suited to their gentler vocal tendencies. Where Wishbone Ash essentially went full tilt throughout, Pilgrimage is a moodier affair that includes beautiful, slower melodies like the brief instrumentals "Alone" and "Lullaby" along with the chilling "Valediction," which should have been an Ash classic but is rarely featured on live and hits collections. Even though this band toned it down a bit for this album, their impressive guitar playing was heightened due to the variance in their songwriting. Next to Argus this is the Wishbone Ash album to judge all other Ash albums by.
Wishbone Ash's sophomore release, Pilgrimage, unveiled their creative genius after a debut that merely presented them as a boogie- and blues-based rock outfit. The opening track, "Vas Dis," with its jazz bassline, slicing rhythm guitar, and gibberish vocals was their answer to "Hocus Pocus" by Focus (or vice versa as both were released in 1971). "Jail Bait" has gone on to become a Wishbone Ash staple as well as possessing one of the more memorable guitar riffs of '70s rock & roll. A conscientious effort seemed to be in place for this band to write and perform material better suited to their gentler vocal tendencies. Where Wishbone Ash essentially went full tilt throughout, Pilgrimage is a moodier affair that includes beautiful, slower melodies like the brief instrumentals "Alone" and "Lullaby" along with the chilling "Valediction," which should have been an Ash classic but is rarely featured on live and hits collections. Even though this band toned it down a bit for this album, their impressive guitar playing was heightened due to the variance in their songwriting. Next to Argus this is the Wishbone Ash album to judge all other Ash albums by.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:30 (thirteen years ago)
TOO LOW!!!!
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:32 (thirteen years ago)
459 Dom - Edge of Time 479 Points 5 Voteshttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2v62San9rpI/S-PxGjrBFKI/AAAAAAAAAQk/xXI39JL7gZM/s1600/f.jpgRYM #231 for 1971http://open.spotify.com/album/1KoGU3TfOPF9fNxGZKac5R
review[-] by Rolf SemprebonWitch & Warlock reissued Dom's Edge of Time in 1991, but one could barely hear the music over the scratchy vinyl they dubbed it off of and the poorly engineered sound. Thankfully, the more recent Second Battle reissue gives this classic early-'70s Krautrock album the CD treatment it deserves, with crystal-clear sound and even a bunch of bonus tracks. Edge of Time combines cosmic folk, psychedelic freeform, and electro-acoustic avant-garde in a unique mix that is strange and surreal. With just four long tracks, the album is dark and brooding, at times even haunting, as the music wends from hypnotic psychedelic folk to bizarre soundscapes of drones and clankings. Though much of the vocals consist of wordless trills similar to the first Ash Ra Tempel record, a couple of tracks, "Silence" and the title cut, have spoken word in English that only adds to the bleak beauty of the sound. Most of the bonus pieces date a couple years later by the original group, and though not quite as effective, are similar to the album cuts, though three of them at slightly over a minute long apiece are way too brief. The last cut, "Let Me Explain" from 1998, is the Baksay brothers from Dom fooling around with more contemporary, electronic-based music.
Witch & Warlock reissued Dom's Edge of Time in 1991, but one could barely hear the music over the scratchy vinyl they dubbed it off of and the poorly engineered sound. Thankfully, the more recent Second Battle reissue gives this classic early-'70s Krautrock album the CD treatment it deserves, with crystal-clear sound and even a bunch of bonus tracks. Edge of Time combines cosmic folk, psychedelic freeform, and electro-acoustic avant-garde in a unique mix that is strange and surreal. With just four long tracks, the album is dark and brooding, at times even haunting, as the music wends from hypnotic psychedelic folk to bizarre soundscapes of drones and clankings. Though much of the vocals consist of wordless trills similar to the first Ash Ra Tempel record, a couple of tracks, "Silence" and the title cut, have spoken word in English that only adds to the bleak beauty of the sound. Most of the bonus pieces date a couple years later by the original group, and though not quite as effective, are similar to the album cuts, though three of them at slightly over a minute long apiece are way too brief. The last cut, "Let Me Explain" from 1998, is the Baksay brothers from Dom fooling around with more contemporary, electronic-based music.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:38 (thirteen years ago)
Thats a tie with459 Buzzcocks - Love Bites 479 Points 5 Voteshttp://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20080523191629/lyricwiki/images/4/4e/Buzzcocks_-_Love_Bites.jpgRYM #99 for 1978 , #4657 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7p6Nh183RUdsEM5wltdv9Q
review[-] by Ned RaggettMore musically accomplished, more obsessively self-questioning, and with equally energetic yet sometimes gloomy performances, Love Bites finds the Buzzcocks coming into their own. With Devoto and his influence now fully worked out of the band's system, Shelley is the clearly predominant voice, with the exception of Diggle's first lead vocal on an album track, the semi-acoustic, perversely sprightly "Love is Lies." Though the song received even further acclaim on Singles Going Steady, "Ever Fallen in Love," for many the band's signature song, appears here. With its note-perfect blend of romance gone wrong, a weirdly catchy, treated lead guitar line, and Shelley's wounded singing deserves its instant classic status, but it's only one of many highlights. The opening "Real World" is one of the band's strongest: a chunky, forceful yet crisp band performance leads into a strong Shelley lyric about unrequited love and life. "Nostalgia"'s strikingly mature, inventive lyrics about where one's life can lead, and the sometimes charging, sometimes quietly tense, heartbroken "Nothing Left" are two other standouts. The group's well-seasoned abilities, the members' increasing reach and Martin Rushent's excellent production make Love Bites shine. The Garvey/Maher rhythm section is especially fine; Maher's fills and similar small but significant touches take the music to an even higher level. His undisputed highlight is the terribly underrated concluding instrumental "Late for the Train." Originally done for a John Peel radio session and rerecorded with even more a dramatic sweep here, it gives the group's motorik/Krautrock new power. Not far behind it is "E.S.P.," a strong rock burn that only fades out at the end very slowly and subtly.
More musically accomplished, more obsessively self-questioning, and with equally energetic yet sometimes gloomy performances, Love Bites finds the Buzzcocks coming into their own. With Devoto and his influence now fully worked out of the band's system, Shelley is the clearly predominant voice, with the exception of Diggle's first lead vocal on an album track, the semi-acoustic, perversely sprightly "Love is Lies." Though the song received even further acclaim on Singles Going Steady, "Ever Fallen in Love," for many the band's signature song, appears here. With its note-perfect blend of romance gone wrong, a weirdly catchy, treated lead guitar line, and Shelley's wounded singing deserves its instant classic status, but it's only one of many highlights. The opening "Real World" is one of the band's strongest: a chunky, forceful yet crisp band performance leads into a strong Shelley lyric about unrequited love and life. "Nostalgia"'s strikingly mature, inventive lyrics about where one's life can lead, and the sometimes charging, sometimes quietly tense, heartbroken "Nothing Left" are two other standouts. The group's well-seasoned abilities, the members' increasing reach and Martin Rushent's excellent production make Love Bites shine. The Garvey/Maher rhythm section is especially fine; Maher's fills and similar small but significant touches take the music to an even higher level. His undisputed highlight is the terribly underrated concluding instrumental "Late for the Train." Originally done for a John Peel radio session and rerecorded with even more a dramatic sweep here, it gives the group's motorik/Krautrock new power. Not far behind it is "E.S.P.," a strong rock burn that only fades out at the end very slowly and subtly.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:42 (thirteen years ago)
uuuhnnn Pilgrim is so good
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:44 (thirteen years ago)
458 Rush - Hemispheres 480 Points 5 Voteshttp://991.com/NewGallery/Rush-Hemispheres---Red-1189.jpgRYM #14 for 1978 , #655 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0jZ4xWuaEyUItsAtR6e6FD
reviewby Greg PratoWhile such albums as 1980's Permanent Waves and 1981's Moving Pictures are usually considered Rush's masterpieces (and with good reason), 1978's Hemispheres is just as deserving. Maybe the fact that the album consists of only four compositions (half are lengthy pieces) was a bit too intimidating for some, but the near 20-minute-long "Cygnus X-1 Book II - Hemispheres" is arguably the band's finest extended track. While the story line isn't as comprehensible as "2112" was, it's much more consistent musically, twisting and turning through five different sections which contrast heavy rock sections against more sedate pieces. Neil Peart had become one of rock's most accomplished lyricists by this point, as evidenced by "The Trees," which deals with racism and inequality in a unique way (set in a forest!). And as always, the trio prove to be experts at their instruments, this time on the complex instrumental "La Villa Strangiato." Geddy Lee's shrieking vocals on the otherwise solid "Circumstances" may border on the irritating, but Hemispheres remains one of Rush's greatest releases.
While such albums as 1980's Permanent Waves and 1981's Moving Pictures are usually considered Rush's masterpieces (and with good reason), 1978's Hemispheres is just as deserving. Maybe the fact that the album consists of only four compositions (half are lengthy pieces) was a bit too intimidating for some, but the near 20-minute-long "Cygnus X-1 Book II - Hemispheres" is arguably the band's finest extended track. While the story line isn't as comprehensible as "2112" was, it's much more consistent musically, twisting and turning through five different sections which contrast heavy rock sections against more sedate pieces. Neil Peart had become one of rock's most accomplished lyricists by this point, as evidenced by "The Trees," which deals with racism and inequality in a unique way (set in a forest!). And as always, the trio prove to be experts at their instruments, this time on the complex instrumental "La Villa Strangiato." Geddy Lee's shrieking vocals on the otherwise solid "Circumstances" may border on the irritating, but Hemispheres remains one of Rush's greatest releases.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:49 (thirteen years ago)
I think I will leave it here for the night. I may post the 457-451 at odd times (ie if theres more chat or i wake up or whatever.) But the 450 wont start til 1 or 2 pm UK time
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:54 (thirteen years ago)
If someone can do the recap or the spotify playlist (and post link here) that would be great.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 02:55 (thirteen years ago)
Direct Link to poll recap & full results
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 03:05 (thirteen years ago)
I wasn't doing a spotify playlist its too much stuff!
a lot of great stuff already!
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 03:08 (thirteen years ago)
477 Destroy All Monsters - 1974 1976 451 Points 4 Votes
Former DAM saxophonist Ben Miller (brother of Mission Of Burma's Roger) is doing amazing work these days, both as a guitarist (tabletop, mostly) and saxophonist/composer/arranger (with his Sensorium Saxophone Orchestra).
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 16 March 2013 03:17 (thirteen years ago)
Love Bites beating Another Music is just wrong, it's easily the weakest of the first three albums.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 03:46 (thirteen years ago)
Really want to listen to Dom, Khan, Destroy All Monsters, and Alternative TV just based on the descriptions given here.
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 06:05 (thirteen years ago)
Finally listening to all of Khan. Really liking it.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 06:47 (thirteen years ago)
Some nice Hillage soloing on "Stargazers".
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 06:57 (thirteen years ago)
nobody should sleep on that james brown record, it's my second fave live album, right after swans' public castration is a good idea. they're similar records, both being extended primal ecstatic onslaughts delivered by crackerjack teams of rhythm daredevils who execute with rigorous simplicity the bootcamp bombast demanded by their shamanistic + monomaniacal frontmen. while the strigency of these ascetic aesthetics can alienate some listeners who judge such din hopelessly self-involved, these strange beat beasts never pause to admire their own musculature in the icy mirrors of their frozen abbatoirs; they're too busy clubbing listeners like baby seals to pause to preen, let alone to address petty concerns about safe + humane behavior. both contain moments that forced an agog me to ask, is this even music? yes, yes it is.
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Saturday, 16 March 2013 07:11 (thirteen years ago)
here's a spotify link, guessing it's not available in the UK?
http://open.spotify.com/album/4pZ4G1VNCk3vTE3JCTQGDT
also lol at it tying w/ aqualung
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Saturday, 16 March 2013 07:18 (thirteen years ago)
Sterntaler TOO LOW. I know neu! & ld will do well & that's great but rother's solo stuff is underappreciated. So pretty & plangent. Not at all the ROCK end of kraut but hey it was nommed so I voted. Also: jaki!
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Saturday, 16 March 2013 10:42 (thirteen years ago)
thanks for the recap viceroy!
and here is the next album..
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 12:09 (thirteen years ago)
457 Eloy - Dawn 482 Points, 3 Voteshttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRxfvH6kBOI/TMXGY605B7I/AAAAAAAAAsc/AxsL52COliE/s1600/Eloy+-+Dawn-Front.jpgRYM #90 for 1976 , #4764 overall
Before recording this album, Eloy's fifth, Frank Bornemann had to rebuild his group. With Klaus Peter Matziol (bass), Detlev Schmidtchen (keyboards), and Jürgen Rosenthal (drums), he had the lineup that would become known as the "classic" Eloy. Furthermore, this version of the band crowned him producer, giving him a wild card to do what he had in mind. Thus the transformation of the group from a blues-rock-influenced avatar of Jethro Tull (circa Benefit and Aqualung) to a symphonic progressive rock group leaning toward Dark Side of the Moon-era Pink Floyd was completed with the release of Dawn. A concept album co-written by Bornemann and Rosenthal, it tells the tale of a man who after a sudden death comes back as a ghost. He tries to pass on his newly acquired knowledge to his loved one (Jeanne, also the name of the girl in Power and the Passion). The album ends with his dissolving into light, closing on the quote, "Nous sommes du soleil" ("We are of the sun") from Yes' Tales From Topographic Oceans, released two years before. The hard rock edge featured on earlier LPs has been purged (including most of Bornemann's guitar solos) to make way for multi-layered keyboards. A string orchestra complements the group on many pieces, most notably "Glinding Into Light and Knowledge," the end of "Lost!?? (Introduction)," and the opener, "Awakening." Together with Ocean, Dawn remains one of Eloy's finest albums, at least musically. The new lineup is able to ornament and refine Bornemann's generally simple songs. As for the lyrics, it's a question of taste.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 12:12 (thirteen years ago)
Dom and Eloy both pretty good, but both (I think) missed out on my ballot.
― emil.y, Saturday, 16 March 2013 12:20 (thirteen years ago)
455 456 Sly & The Family Stone - Small Talk 484 5 http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-okmXV4WmlgA/T2hwwqqJwyI/AAAAAAAAMa8/KjzN7_HTA3g/s1600/Senza%2Btitolo-6.jpgRYM #558 for 1974http://open.spotify.com/album/1KJAI0W9nvK2insqlsKacw
reviewby Rob BowmanA new bass player and drummer signaled a toned-down Sly & the Family Stone sound. Partially in keeping with changes in much of popular music in the early '70s, and maybe the result of marriage and a child, Sly became more introspective, quieter, and calmer, even employing a string section on various cuts. A less exhilarating album than earlier efforts, there is still much of merit here, including the Top Ten R&B hit "Time for Livin'."
A new bass player and drummer signaled a toned-down Sly & the Family Stone sound. Partially in keeping with changes in much of popular music in the early '70s, and maybe the result of marriage and a child, Sly became more introspective, quieter, and calmer, even employing a string section on various cuts. A less exhilarating album than earlier efforts, there is still much of merit here, including the Top Ten R&B hit "Time for Livin'."
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 12:26 (thirteen years ago)
thats #456 obviously
455 Bobby Beausoleil - Lucifer Rising OST 489 Points 5 Voteshttp://musicfortrips.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/beausoleil.jpgRYM #61 for 1972 , #3,394 overallhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5pk3Fu369hrE00HdQai0jY
Everyone reviewing this record seems to get hung up on the fact that Bobby BeauSoleil is an inmate, serving a life sentence for murder, who had ties with the Charles Manson cult, and who recorded and produced this psychedelic prog rock soundtrack, in prison, for a film extolling the virtues of Lucifer. If these are the only things that lend credence to this album, someone forgot to actually listen to it. Lucifer Rising is a beautifully realized work, no matter what the circumstances were surrounding its coming to be. BeauSoleil is a talented arranger and a fine guitarist, with a knack for guerilla recording that most D.I.Y. engineers, on the outside, would be envious of. Layers of guitar, processed through handmade effects units, and hot-rodded junks hop synthesizers issuing indescribable tones arc and dive throughout BeauSoleil's spacious soundscapes. The sound stage is wide and horizon-less, with dark-toned movements rising up from stygian depths and then ascending heavenward with gorgeous chordal fusillades. For a compact introduction to BeauSoleil's epode-like songsmithing, "Part III" offers a strata-revealing overview. Moving from Piper at the Gates of Dawn-era Floyd motifs, the song evolves into an intricate and vacillating progression reminiscent of Air's "Don't Be Light" with all of the dazzling chordal movement, but none of the pomp. Floyd and Air comparisons aside, the most accurate description of BeauSoleil's trajectory would be psych-prog by way of Claude Debussy, and hard rock as it may have been envisioned by Ennio Morricone. Lucifer Rising is far too beautiful to be labeled as hard rock, far too focused to be written off as meandering prog, and too full of merit to be judged solely on the heteroclite life of its composer.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 12:54 (thirteen years ago)
Good write-up. Great record.
― emil.y, Saturday, 16 March 2013 12:54 (thirteen years ago)
454 James Gang - Rides Again 490 Points 4 Voteshttp://www.soulstrut.com/images/uploads/reviews/James-Gang-Rides-Again-F.jpgRYM #90 for 1970 , #2681 overall
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineWith their second album Rides Again, the James Gang came into their own. Under the direction of guitarist Joe Walsh, the group -- now featuring bassist Dale Peters -- began incorporating keyboards into their hard rock, which helped open up their musical horizons. For much of the first side of Rides Again, the group tear through a bunch of boogie numbers, most notably the heavy groove of "Funk #49." On the second side, the James Gang departs from their trademark sound, adding keyboard flourishes and elements of country-rock to their hard rock. Walsh's songwriting had improved, giving the band solid support for their stylistic experiments. What ties the two sides of the record together is the strength of the band's musicianship, which burns brightly and powerfully on the hardest rockers, as well as on the sensitive ballads.
With their second album Rides Again, the James Gang came into their own. Under the direction of guitarist Joe Walsh, the group -- now featuring bassist Dale Peters -- began incorporating keyboards into their hard rock, which helped open up their musical horizons. For much of the first side of Rides Again, the group tear through a bunch of boogie numbers, most notably the heavy groove of "Funk #49." On the second side, the James Gang departs from their trademark sound, adding keyboard flourishes and elements of country-rock to their hard rock. Walsh's songwriting had improved, giving the band solid support for their stylistic experiments. What ties the two sides of the record together is the strength of the band's musicianship, which burns brightly and powerfully on the hardest rockers, as well as on the sensitive ballads.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:24 (thirteen years ago)
Next one up is m.eily friendly
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:26 (thirteen years ago)
453 Walter Wegmüller - Tarot 490 Points 5 Voteshttp://www.tribute-to-ashra.de/Picture/TarotBox3.JPGRYM #187 for 1973
review[-] by Rolf SemprebonThis massive double album is cosmic Krautrock at its finest hour, as visionary Walter Wegmuller leads a tour through the entire major arcane of the Tarot deck while the Cosmic Couriers -- basically Ash Ra Tempel, Wallenstein, and whoever else producer Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser could rope in -- create a remarkable soundtrack encompassing space rock, folk music, funk, psychedelia, and electronic music. Wegmuller's album followed in the footsteps of Timothy Leary's Seven Up, Ash Ra Tempel, and Sergius Golowin's Lord Krishna von Goloka, backed by Wallenstein, the duo Westripp-Witthuser, and keyboardist Klaus Schulze. Tarot, with almost all these musicians on the roster, is the culmination, a bizarre roller coaster ride through sonic soundscapes, while Wegmuller intones in his deep voice, sometimes augmented by more effects, though he often remains silent for long instrumental stretches. From the opening track, a funky number with blazing guitar and rolling piano over which a circus-barker voice announces the band with grand élan, to the side four track's nonstop blast into hallucinogenic after-burn, this one is a monster all the way. Shimmering Ash Ra Tempel guitar freakouts blend with Wallenstein's more rollicking psych rock, Schulze's deep space keyboards, and Westripp's cosmic folk to create strange blitzes of electronic weirdness. This album provide an incredible pallet of styles that all seem to gel in a cohesive mass of pure mystical wonder.
This massive double album is cosmic Krautrock at its finest hour, as visionary Walter Wegmuller leads a tour through the entire major arcane of the Tarot deck while the Cosmic Couriers -- basically Ash Ra Tempel, Wallenstein, and whoever else producer Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser could rope in -- create a remarkable soundtrack encompassing space rock, folk music, funk, psychedelia, and electronic music. Wegmuller's album followed in the footsteps of Timothy Leary's Seven Up, Ash Ra Tempel, and Sergius Golowin's Lord Krishna von Goloka, backed by Wallenstein, the duo Westripp-Witthuser, and keyboardist Klaus Schulze. Tarot, with almost all these musicians on the roster, is the culmination, a bizarre roller coaster ride through sonic soundscapes, while Wegmuller intones in his deep voice, sometimes augmented by more effects, though he often remains silent for long instrumental stretches. From the opening track, a funky number with blazing guitar and rolling piano over which a circus-barker voice announces the band with grand élan, to the side four track's nonstop blast into hallucinogenic after-burn, this one is a monster all the way. Shimmering Ash Ra Tempel guitar freakouts blend with Wallenstein's more rollicking psych rock, Schulze's deep space keyboards, and Westripp's cosmic folk to create strange blitzes of electronic weirdness. This album provide an incredible pallet of styles that all seem to gel in a cohesive mass of pure mystical wonder.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:33 (thirteen years ago)
TOO LOW
― emil.y, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:35 (thirteen years ago)
countdown to posts by everybody else saying WHO???!!!111 ;)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:38 (thirteen years ago)
Is there a reissue of this on vinyl with tarot cards? If so, do you have it emil.y?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:41 (thirteen years ago)
452 Mott the Hoople - All the Young Dudes 490 Points 6 Voteshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d7ewgPSRH_o/UEP7pe4k1jI/AAAAAAAAEtQ/TLguVqgp8ek/s1600/Mott_The_Hoople-All_The_Young_Dudes_%25281972%2529-Frontal.jpg#176 for 1972http://open.spotify.com/album/2aOWMZo9zarFg3wIPLdTA7
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineJust at the moment Mott the Hoople were calling it a day, David Bowie swooped in and convinced them to stick around. Bowie spearheaded an image makeover, urging them to glam themselves up. He gave them a surefire hit with "All the Young Dudes," had them cover his idol's "Sweet Jane," and produced All the Young Dudes, the album that was designed to make them stars. Lo and behold, it did, which is as much a testament to Bowie's popularity as it is to his studio skill. Not to discount his assistance, since his production results in one of the most satisfying glam records and the title track is one of the all-time great rock songs, but the album wouldn't have worked if Mott hadn't already found its voice on Brain Capers. True, Dudes isn't nearly as wild as its predecessor, but the band's swagger is unmistakable underneath the flair and Ian Hunter remains on a songwriting roll, with "Momma's Little Jewel," "Sucker," and "One of the Boys" standing among his best. Take a close look at the credits, though -- these were all co-written by his bandmates, and the other highlight, "Ready for Love/After Lights," is penned entirely by Mick Ralphs, who would later revive the first section with Bad Company. The entire band was on a roll here, turning out great performances and writing with vigor. They may not be as sexy as either Bowie or Bolan, but they make up for it with knowing humor, huge riffs, and terrific tunes, dressed up with style by Ziggy himself. No wonder it's not just a great Mott record -- it's one of the defining glam platters.
Just at the moment Mott the Hoople were calling it a day, David Bowie swooped in and convinced them to stick around. Bowie spearheaded an image makeover, urging them to glam themselves up. He gave them a surefire hit with "All the Young Dudes," had them cover his idol's "Sweet Jane," and produced All the Young Dudes, the album that was designed to make them stars. Lo and behold, it did, which is as much a testament to Bowie's popularity as it is to his studio skill. Not to discount his assistance, since his production results in one of the most satisfying glam records and the title track is one of the all-time great rock songs, but the album wouldn't have worked if Mott hadn't already found its voice on Brain Capers. True, Dudes isn't nearly as wild as its predecessor, but the band's swagger is unmistakable underneath the flair and Ian Hunter remains on a songwriting roll, with "Momma's Little Jewel," "Sucker," and "One of the Boys" standing among his best. Take a close look at the credits, though -- these were all co-written by his bandmates, and the other highlight, "Ready for Love/After Lights," is penned entirely by Mick Ralphs, who would later revive the first section with Bad Company. The entire band was on a roll here, turning out great performances and writing with vigor. They may not be as sexy as either Bowie or Bolan, but they make up for it with knowing humor, huge riffs, and terrific tunes, dressed up with style by Ziggy himself. No wonder it's not just a great Mott record -- it's one of the defining glam platters.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:48 (thirteen years ago)
I don't have Tarot. Used to be impossible to find for under a gazillion pounds, but I'm sure there is a reissue by now.
― emil.y, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:50 (thirteen years ago)
Never heard this, only know of it from the cope book. I get carried away by his enthusiasm when reading but I'm never sure if I trust him enough to take the leap of actually buying the obscurer records. Xxp
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:51 (thirteen years ago)
I've been meaning to check them out (Mott The Hoople) for years. Time to do so I reckon.
xp
Chances are a Tarot reissue would be really limited and impossible to find for under a hundred pounds
xxp
It's really great! but download it if its OOP as emil.y says, it sells for shitloads. I think there was a cd reissue but dunno if thats oop or not.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 13:56 (thirteen years ago)
451 The Electric Eels - God Says Fuck You 491 Points 4 Voteshttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bLhX--HO3Ww/Tn-gwI-LQUI/AAAAAAAACi8/2SeJ498Hq1c/s1600/ElctrcEls.jpg
reviewby John DouganLet me quote from the producer's notes to this CD compilation of the entire recorded output of the Electric Eels (including their long-lost LP Having a Philosophical Investigation with the Electric Eels): "The Eels never saw the inside of a recording studio. These tapes were made using an assortment of junk PA equipment and a low-end home cassette deck. No compromises to the recording process would be made and the band played just as always, deafeningly loud." Like the man says, this is grimy, gruesome, and at best, adequately played proto-punk chord bashing, but if you like your punk rock confrontational you'll happily chew on this bone for hours on end. My favorite track is the opener, "Agitated," which, as sung by John Morton, sounds as if he's saying, "I'm so educated." Which is a punky sentiment no matter how you look at it.
Let me quote from the producer's notes to this CD compilation of the entire recorded output of the Electric Eels (including their long-lost LP Having a Philosophical Investigation with the Electric Eels): "The Eels never saw the inside of a recording studio. These tapes were made using an assortment of junk PA equipment and a low-end home cassette deck. No compromises to the recording process would be made and the band played just as always, deafeningly loud." Like the man says, this is grimy, gruesome, and at best, adequately played proto-punk chord bashing, but if you like your punk rock confrontational you'll happily chew on this bone for hours on end. My favorite track is the opener, "Agitated," which, as sung by John Morton, sounds as if he's saying, "I'm so educated." Which is a punky sentiment no matter how you look at it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 14:04 (thirteen years ago)
says 1991 but I assume it was recorded in the 70s
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 14:07 (thirteen years ago)
Sewercide is class gutterpunk, love this album.
― Damo Suzuki's Parrot, Saturday, 16 March 2013 14:11 (thirteen years ago)
From now on in we have a treat for you.
fastnbulbous has been compiling RYM and Acclaimed Music rankings plus some reviews just leaving me to do the album covers/spotify links/amg reviews.
So a big thanks to him!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 14:31 (thirteen years ago)
450. ROD STEWART Every Picture Tells a Story (493 Points, 4 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #51 for 1971, #1203 overall | Acclaimed: #159 | RS: #172 http://www.ungthesteeple.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/Every-Picture-Tells-A-Story.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/4h1e47X26VQHXCjNZZ5P3v
Because he's tawdry enough to revel in stellar pop-and-flash, Stewart can refine the rock sensibility without processing the life out of it. His gimmick is nuance. Rod the Wordslinger is a lot more literate than the typical English bloozeman, Rod the Singer can make words flesh, and though Rod the Bandleader's music is literally electric it's the mandolin and pedal steel that come through sharpest. A smash as huge as "Maggie May" must satisfy Rod the Mod the way a classic as undeniable as "Maggie May" does Rod the Artist. But it's "Mandolin Wind" leading into Motown leading into Tim Hardin that does justice to everything he is. A+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineWithout greatly altering his approach, Rod Stewart perfected his blend of hard rock, folk, and blues on his masterpiece, Every Picture Tells a Story. Marginally a harder-rocking album than Gasoline Alley -- the Faces blister on the Temptations cover "(I Know I'm) Losing You," and the acoustic title track goes into hyper-drive with Mick Waller's primitive drumming -- the great triumph of Every Picture Tells a Story lies in its content. Every song on the album, whether it's a cover or original, is a gem, combining to form a romantic, earthy portrait of a young man joyously celebrating his young life. Of course, "Maggie May" -- the ornate, ringing ode about a seduction from an older woman -- is the centerpiece, but each song, whether it's the devilishly witty title track or the unbearably poignant "Mandolin Wind," has the same appeal. And the covers, including definitive readings of Bob Dylan's "Tomorrow Is Such a Long Time" and Tim Hardin's "Reason to Believe," as well as a rollicking "That's All Right," are equally terrific, bringing new dimension to the songs. It's a beautiful album, one that has the timeless qualities of the best folk, yet one that rocks harder than most pop music -- few rock albums are quite this powerful or this rich.
Without greatly altering his approach, Rod Stewart perfected his blend of hard rock, folk, and blues on his masterpiece, Every Picture Tells a Story. Marginally a harder-rocking album than Gasoline Alley -- the Faces blister on the Temptations cover "(I Know I'm) Losing You," and the acoustic title track goes into hyper-drive with Mick Waller's primitive drumming -- the great triumph of Every Picture Tells a Story lies in its content. Every song on the album, whether it's a cover or original, is a gem, combining to form a romantic, earthy portrait of a young man joyously celebrating his young life. Of course, "Maggie May" -- the ornate, ringing ode about a seduction from an older woman -- is the centerpiece, but each song, whether it's the devilishly witty title track or the unbearably poignant "Mandolin Wind," has the same appeal. And the covers, including definitive readings of Bob Dylan's "Tomorrow Is Such a Long Time" and Tim Hardin's "Reason to Believe," as well as a rollicking "That's All Right," are equally terrific, bringing new dimension to the songs. It's a beautiful album, one that has the timeless qualities of the best folk, yet one that rocks harder than most pop music -- few rock albums are quite this powerful or this rich.
lots of interesting stuff to listen to thus far, cool! A couple of mine have placed thus far: Live at Budokan and Love Bites. I too missed Sterntaler, which would have received another vote on top of Drugs A Money's had I noticed it. Ah well.
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 14:33 (thirteen years ago)
TIE448. CURTIS MAYFIELD There's No Place Like America Today (497 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #153 for 1975 | Acclaimed: #2361http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cPBNVxhrpN8/UQLDnVR1B6I/AAAAAAAALb0/6tRmehRYOJM/s1600/172746_1_f.jpg
I had hoped the featureless doodling of his post-Super Fly albums just meant he was treading water while transferring from Viewlex to Warner Comm. Instead it appears that he was seeking new standards of incoherence. D+ -- R. Christgau
reviewby Bruce EderThe title is intended in an ironic way, as illustrated not only by the cover -- a grim parody of late-'40s/early-'50s advertising imagery depicting white versus black social reality -- but the grim yet utterly catchy and haunting opening number, "Billy Jack." A song about gun violence that was years ahead of its time, it's scored to an incisive horn arrangement by Richard Tufo. "When Seasons Change" is a beautifully wrought account of the miseries of urban life that contains elements of both gospel and contemporary soul. The album's one big song, "So in Love," which made number 67 on the pop charts but was a Top Ten soul hit, is only the prettiest of a string of exquisite tracks on the album, including "Blue Monday People" and "Jesus" and the soaring finale, "Love to the People," broken up by the harder-edged "Hard Times." The album doesn't really have as clearly delineated a body of songs as Mayfield's earlier topical releases, but it's in the same league with his other work of the period and represents him near his prime as a composer.
The title is intended in an ironic way, as illustrated not only by the cover -- a grim parody of late-'40s/early-'50s advertising imagery depicting white versus black social reality -- but the grim yet utterly catchy and haunting opening number, "Billy Jack." A song about gun violence that was years ahead of its time, it's scored to an incisive horn arrangement by Richard Tufo. "When Seasons Change" is a beautifully wrought account of the miseries of urban life that contains elements of both gospel and contemporary soul. The album's one big song, "So in Love," which made number 67 on the pop charts but was a Top Ten soul hit, is only the prettiest of a string of exquisite tracks on the album, including "Blue Monday People" and "Jesus" and the soaring finale, "Love to the People," broken up by the harder-edged "Hard Times." The album doesn't really have as clearly delineated a body of songs as Mayfield's earlier topical releases, but it's in the same league with his other work of the period and represents him near his prime as a composer.
448. SCORPIONS Lonesome Crow (497 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #444 for 1972 https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQVTj3e2DQAga6dD4mEW-cK4jj909sXvbM4A7Cko23BpJ-A73EP_whttp://open.spotify.com/album/3i5LXHKq3kuAI7s5Ky3Vsm
Nothing but turgid strips of landfill, not really behind the times, but under them, Lonesome Crow is an odd but electric record of faulty prog rock...the redeeming factor is the all-pervading, ear-splitting axe work from one Michael Schenker.. 3/4 -- M. Popoff
reviewby Barry WeberSomething of an anomaly for the Scorpions, Lonesome Crow focuses on deep, dark melodies that sound like a bad combination of Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, and the Rolling Stones. Although Michael Schenker provides some strong guitar melodies, the album fails to capture any real interest. Klaus Meine's voice, which usually has a tenor pitch, is flat and dull. Neither harmonic nor interesting, Lonesome Crow is one of the Scorpions' weaker releases.
Something of an anomaly for the Scorpions, Lonesome Crow focuses on deep, dark melodies that sound like a bad combination of Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, and the Rolling Stones. Although Michael Schenker provides some strong guitar melodies, the album fails to capture any real interest. Klaus Meine's voice, which usually has a tenor pitch, is flat and dull. Neither harmonic nor interesting, Lonesome Crow is one of the Scorpions' weaker releases.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 14:48 (thirteen years ago)
I'm sure this wont be the last FUCK XGAU of the poll.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 14:52 (thirteen years ago)
missed Electric Eels too, I have Eyeball of Hell which is probably a repackaging of much of the same material. They were an awesome band imo
back to James Gang Rides Again, which rules and is likely my highest vote to place so far. Check out The Bomber, which in a fit of perversity I included on my all time metal tracks ballot a couple years back
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:00 (thirteen years ago)
(am getting the sinking feeling that I might be the only person who voted for a good sixth of my ballot
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:01 (thirteen years ago)
447. THIN LIZZY Black Rose: A Rock Legend (498 Points, 3 Votes)RYM: #21 for 1979 , #1092 overall http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tj7L1Kw-42o/T_GmwBYHAqI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/6f7FcqHMfoA/s1600/LP-Thin-Lizzy-Black-Rose.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6iH6E5ePYSOooTiY3p80sR
Two Lizzy classics emerge, minor hit "Waiting For An Alibi" and heartfelt confessional rocker "Got To Give It Up," both tunes propelled by strangely un-nailable, complex chord structures which tend to highlight a strange, melodic other-worldliness, all the while the band creating the intense spaces and pregnant pauses on which these two tracks feed. Title track "Roisin Dubh (Black Rose) A Rock Legend" finds Lynott confronting his Irish heritage directly...writing on a plane more in league with fine literature than anything as base as rock 'n' roll. 7/10 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Greg PratoBlack Rose: A Rock Legend would prove to be Thin Lizzy's last true classic album (and last produced by Tony Visconti). Guitarist Brian Robertson was replaced by Gary Moore prior to the album's recording. Moore had already been a member of the band in the early '70s and served as a tour fill-in for Robertson in 1977, and he fits in perfectly with Lizzy's heavy, dual-guitar attack. Black Rose also turned out to be the band's most musically varied, accomplished, and successful studio album, reaching number two on the U.K. album chart upon release. Lizzy leader Phil Lynott is again equipped with a fine set of originals, which the rest of the band shines on -- the percussion-driven opener "Do Anything You Want To," the pop hit "Waiting for an Alibi," and a gentle song for Lynott's newly born daughter, "Sarah." Not all the material is as upbeat, such as the funky "S&M," as well two grim tales of street life and substance abuse -- "Toughest Street in Town" and "Got to Give It Up" (the latter sadly prophetic for Lynott). Black Rose closes with the epic seven-minute title track, which includes an amazing, complex guitar solo by Moore that incorporates Celtic themes against a hard rock accompaniment. Black Rose: A Rock Legend is one of the '70s lost rock classics.
Black Rose: A Rock Legend would prove to be Thin Lizzy's last true classic album (and last produced by Tony Visconti). Guitarist Brian Robertson was replaced by Gary Moore prior to the album's recording. Moore had already been a member of the band in the early '70s and served as a tour fill-in for Robertson in 1977, and he fits in perfectly with Lizzy's heavy, dual-guitar attack. Black Rose also turned out to be the band's most musically varied, accomplished, and successful studio album, reaching number two on the U.K. album chart upon release. Lizzy leader Phil Lynott is again equipped with a fine set of originals, which the rest of the band shines on -- the percussion-driven opener "Do Anything You Want To," the pop hit "Waiting for an Alibi," and a gentle song for Lynott's newly born daughter, "Sarah." Not all the material is as upbeat, such as the funky "S&M," as well two grim tales of street life and substance abuse -- "Toughest Street in Town" and "Got to Give It Up" (the latter sadly prophetic for Lynott). Black Rose closes with the epic seven-minute title track, which includes an amazing, complex guitar solo by Moore that incorporates Celtic themes against a hard rock accompaniment. Black Rose: A Rock Legend is one of the '70s lost rock classics.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:05 (thirteen years ago)
xpost - The electric eels looks very, very promising, and The Eyeball of Hell seems to be a fairly complete representation of the group. Do they live up to their reputation? Seems daunting to make music as compelling as "got kicked out of the only club that would have them for bringing a lawnmower on stage".
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:10 (thirteen years ago)
lol they are v punk before punk, lets just say. I might like em more than Pere Ubu
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:14 (thirteen years ago)
446. BIRTH CONTROL Operation (502 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #255 for 1971http://www.jpc.de/image/w600/front/0/0090204820047.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2N4nQkAdrFbLZ5EhLqot6a
...a nasty, hard-edged prog metal that is hard to define, the band splashing the canvas with psych, baroque, classical, military beats...quite impressive. Favourite would be "Just Before The Sun Will Rise" with its heart-twisting melody and "Flesh And Blood," a jagged rocker with smart dynamics, anguished vocals and measured guitar licks. 6/9 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Mike DeGagneBirth Control's second album, Operation, stands as one of the band's finest recordings, getting the vote as the second best album of 1971 by one of Germany's leading music magazines. Operation has Birth Control employing a nine-piece string section as well as a smaller brass entourage in order to produce a larger sound, and while their progressive air is just beginning to flourish, a rather large difference in musical strength and instrumental craft is noted right away. Not fully abstract or left-of-center just yet, the powerful crunch of Bruno Frenzel's guitar surely leads the way, dominating the rhythms of every track while complimenting the aeronautics of the keyboard passages. With the tempos quicker because of the stern synthesizer work, the entire album moves along at a brisk pace. "Stop Little Lady" has the vocals on par with the whirlwind guitar riffs, echoed perfectly to produce a mysterious rippled effect. "Just Before the Sun Will Rise" and "Flesh and Blood" utilize the keyboards at the heart of both the songs, while the full 11 minutes of "Let Us Do It Now" emanate Birth Control's instrumental coalescence in the momentum of both the drums and guitar. "The Work Is Done" became one of the group's most renowned efforts, with rocksteady percussion creating the perfect bottom-heavy underlay for the strings and horns. The 1997 pressing of Operation includes five bonus tracks, including another version of "The Work Is Done" and a peculiar little number entitled "Believe in the Pill." With the band maturing and slowly working back toward a more progressive rock route, Operation makes for a truly consistent studio album that offers a firm cross section of their sound.
Birth Control's second album, Operation, stands as one of the band's finest recordings, getting the vote as the second best album of 1971 by one of Germany's leading music magazines. Operation has Birth Control employing a nine-piece string section as well as a smaller brass entourage in order to produce a larger sound, and while their progressive air is just beginning to flourish, a rather large difference in musical strength and instrumental craft is noted right away. Not fully abstract or left-of-center just yet, the powerful crunch of Bruno Frenzel's guitar surely leads the way, dominating the rhythms of every track while complimenting the aeronautics of the keyboard passages. With the tempos quicker because of the stern synthesizer work, the entire album moves along at a brisk pace. "Stop Little Lady" has the vocals on par with the whirlwind guitar riffs, echoed perfectly to produce a mysterious rippled effect. "Just Before the Sun Will Rise" and "Flesh and Blood" utilize the keyboards at the heart of both the songs, while the full 11 minutes of "Let Us Do It Now" emanate Birth Control's instrumental coalescence in the momentum of both the drums and guitar. "The Work Is Done" became one of the group's most renowned efforts, with rocksteady percussion creating the perfect bottom-heavy underlay for the strings and horns. The 1997 pressing of Operation includes five bonus tracks, including another version of "The Work Is Done" and a peculiar little number entitled "Believe in the Pill." With the band maturing and slowly working back toward a more progressive rock route, Operation makes for a truly consistent studio album that offers a firm cross section of their sound.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:25 (thirteen years ago)
Poll heavy on the german so far
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:28 (thirteen years ago)
hey if anyone wants some pictures of 1970s American high school kids to look at while they listen to 1970s music, can i recommend going to the archives here http://yearbookeditor.tumblr.com/archive the 70s start in 1977 (end of october) through today (1971 is just starting to get some faces)
(fyi this is my yearbook blog, but i think the photos are of general interest to 70s enthusiasts)
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:31 (thirteen years ago)
445. A.R. & MACHINES Echo (506 Points, 3 Votes)RYM: #240 for 1972 http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mb77jkJ1t71qf18g7_1349068068_cover.jpg
It was Steve Freeman from Ultima Thule who clued me into this particular sprawling 83-minute monster back in 1995. Even more so than Walter Wegmuller?s Tarot, which allows the listener to rove from emotion to emotion, Echo operates on such a singular level that listeners actually start to feel inhabited by this record... It?s an ever intensifying ever-speeding-up multi-guitar-led rock?n?roll rampage across the ancient starlit skies without so much as one hoary cliché passing across any of the guitar strings. Theme after theme opens out upon yet-more-themes, as drums build then break down to accommodate, then build up again only to fail like waves breaking on some ancient musical shore. When the drums break down for the last time, Mellotron-like real voiced cyber-choirs have taken over to orchestrate our descent into the end of the track with perfect spiritual applomb. -- J. Cope
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:35 (thirteen years ago)
That sounds good. Will investigate!
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:38 (thirteen years ago)
A.R. = Achim Reichel, also of the Rattles and Wonderland.
― emil.y, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
Great!! I love seeing reactions like that to albums. Thanks to fastnbulbous for tracking down reviews n stuff!xp
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:48 (thirteen years ago)
some turkish psych now
BARIS?
― emil.y, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:48 (thirteen years ago)
444. BARIS MANCO 2023 (508 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #248 for 1975 http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_osaKxjJ33dE/S_dUe_sNKrI/AAAAAAAAAvw/PlCcCysRqz8/s1600/2023.jpg
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:49 (thirteen years ago)
BARIS!
― emil.y, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:50 (thirteen years ago)
http://weirdorecords.com/zen/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=4098
This first album under Manco's own name is a monster electric space opus he made after releasing only singles for nearly 20 years. Having knocked out songs in every discernable rock subgenre, what can be left but horrific squishy water noises that sit right on top of ultracheesy synth bonks while Manco intones serious poetry? Lines are duly stolen from Ottoman classical music, but played with scorching waka-waka moves, & there are even breakdowns of sheer blaxploitation funk. A catastrophic collision of maqam 'n' moog that shouldn't be missed. Tracklisting: Acih Da Baga Vir, Kayalarin Oglu, 2023, Yolverin Agalar Beyler, Uzun Ince Bir Yoldayim, Yine Yol Gorundu Gurbete, Beykoca Destani, Gulme Ha Gulme, Gelinlik Kizlarin Dansi, Kara Haber Turnanin Olumu, Vur Ha Vur, Durma Ha Durma, Tavuklara Kissst De, Kol Basti.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:50 (thirteen years ago)
cool cover. Is that a collector record, or is it widely available?
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:51 (thirteen years ago)
lol click the link
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:52 (thirteen years ago)
ha not too bad! Not $100s at least...
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:54 (thirteen years ago)
Hey, just woke up! Other notes on rankings: Acclaimed = http://www.acclaimedmusic.net/. Rankings amalgamated from lists from dozens of music publications throughout the world. | RS = Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. Rankings based on the original 2003 list. It was updated in 2012, with newer albums pushing some 1970s albums off the list, so I used the original. | Pitchfork = Top 100 Albums of the 1970s from 2004.
QuotesR. Christgau = Robert Christgau's Consumer Guide | M. Popoff = Martin Popoff's The Collector's Guide to Heavy Metal - Volume 1: The Seventies. Ratings: The first number is the heaviness number. The second is how good Popoff thinks the album is on a scale of 10. | R. Chelled = Ra'anan Chelled's Demons, Fairies & Wailing Guitars: The Best 100 Obscure Rock Acts 1968-1976 (2012). The entries in the book are much longer, often including extensive interviews. Well worth checking out. | J. Cope = Julian Cope's http://www.headheritage.co.uk. | Woebot = Matthew Ingram's (aka Woebot) 100 Lost Rock Albums From The 1970s (2011) (when a # rank follows, that's from his all-time top 100 albums) | Classic Rock = "The 150 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die!" Classic Rock Magazine (November 2009) | Cosmic Egg = Steven & Alan Freeman's The Crack In The Cosmic Egg: Encyclopedia Of Krautrock, Kosmische Musik & Other PRogressive, Experimental & Electronic Musics from Germany.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 15:55 (thirteen years ago)
443. PENETRATION Coming Up For Air (511 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: DNP, 1979https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSUELV6W-YqL7nEimR32ZQErGHDqjAmyLrvbti6ITGte1ukfIDI
Coming Up for Air, produced poorly by Steve Lillywhite, isn't nearly as good, despite some swell tracks. Where the first record was almost consistently exciting, only "Shout Above the Noise," "On Reflection" and "Lifeline" have the same melodic, dramatic intensity. The band had evidently run out of good songs, and the muffled sound only exacerbates the mishmash. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Dave ThompsonThe spiky aspirations of their debut album and first few singles notwithstanding, Penetration was always a more convincing hard rock band than most punks gave them credit for. The glee with which they unveiled a twin-guitar lineup, the faith they placed in songs with titles like "She Is the Slave" and "Shout Above the Noise," and, if hindsight be the guide, the accuracy with which they predicted the entire New Wave of British Heavy Metal outbreak -- all these things place Penetration in a very different bag to that they normally wriggle around in. Guitarist Fred Purser went on to form the Tygers of Pan Tang. That should tell you everything. Released in late 1979, their second album, Coming Up for Air, is the sound of the group embracing that destiny. Critically pummeled at the time and often overlooked thereafter, it is a far cry from the scratchy urchins who unleashed "Don't Dictate" a mere year earlier, a rip-roaring, riff-heavy leviathan that places its focus on Purser and Neale Floyd's wailing guitars, then layers Pauline Murray's banshee-bark vocals atop of them. Unfortunately, in ripping apart the punk formbook, Penetration also tore up their songwriting manual. Without exception, the ten songs on the original album are uniformly leaden, while two live bonus tracks merely amplify the band's lumpen metal pretensions. Only "Danger Signs," the third bonus track and the band's last memorable single, stands proud, but even that is not a recommendation.
The spiky aspirations of their debut album and first few singles notwithstanding, Penetration was always a more convincing hard rock band than most punks gave them credit for. The glee with which they unveiled a twin-guitar lineup, the faith they placed in songs with titles like "She Is the Slave" and "Shout Above the Noise," and, if hindsight be the guide, the accuracy with which they predicted the entire New Wave of British Heavy Metal outbreak -- all these things place Penetration in a very different bag to that they normally wriggle around in. Guitarist Fred Purser went on to form the Tygers of Pan Tang. That should tell you everything. Released in late 1979, their second album, Coming Up for Air, is the sound of the group embracing that destiny. Critically pummeled at the time and often overlooked thereafter, it is a far cry from the scratchy urchins who unleashed "Don't Dictate" a mere year earlier, a rip-roaring, riff-heavy leviathan that places its focus on Purser and Neale Floyd's wailing guitars, then layers Pauline Murray's banshee-bark vocals atop of them. Unfortunately, in ripping apart the punk formbook, Penetration also tore up their songwriting manual. Without exception, the ten songs on the original album are uniformly leaden, while two live bonus tracks merely amplify the band's lumpen metal pretensions. Only "Danger Signs," the third bonus track and the band's last memorable single, stands proud, but even that is not a recommendation.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:01 (thirteen years ago)
It's funny, a lot of those Trouser Press entries I grew up reading for many years before actually getting to hear the albums. I'd forgotten how brutally they dismiss a lot of the stuff, yet I was still excited to hear it all! You four voters feel free to defend the album! I actually don't have that one, need to correct it.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:05 (thirteen years ago)
It's also the lowest rated album in Rateyourmusic so far, the 3.00 so low they didn't even rank it.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:08 (thirteen years ago)
lol yet 4 voted for it? a bad punk album can become a cult fave to metal fans?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:10 (thirteen years ago)
anyone like Tygers of Pan Tang? like to recommend a record?
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:12 (thirteen years ago)
I know a few irl people who liked them.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:15 (thirteen years ago)
Sure I like Tygers, start with Spellbound (1981).
More on Echo:
...venturing further into the cosmos was the grand opus ECHO, a double album of echo trips, echoed echoes, spiralling guitars, rock and psychedelic trips beyond Ash Ra Tempel, again ending up in the realms of total weirdness! Simple description isn't possible. -- Cosmic Egg
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:18 (thirteen years ago)
441. JUDAS PRIEST Rocka Rolla (512 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #824 for 1974 http://www.recordsale.de/cdpix/j/judas_priest-rocka_rolla(1).jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/7G2yBPbPAgSKucJQui2JT3
A strange, bitter record that no one could love unconditionally, Rocka Rolla timidly announced the recording career of a band that would transform metal like no other...a proud but confused work drawing from Purple, Heep and fellow Birmingham bashers Sabbath...finding a unique sound that is medieval, dark and blurry with a hint of German prog. 7/8 -- M. Popoff
reviewby Steve HueyA sketchy and underfocused debut, Rocka Rolla nonetheless begins to delineate the musical territory Judas Priest would explore over the remainder of the decade: frighteningly dark in its effect, tight in its grooves, and capable of expanding to epic song lengths. On the other hand, Rocka Rolla is also murkier, less precise and powerful in its riff attack, and more blues-based; the stylistic debts to Black Sabbath and Deep Purple are obvious at this juncture, although they would become much less apparent on subsequent releases. The compositions alternate between short songs and extended suites; some are decent, but overall they don't establish a real direction and tend to plod aimlessly in many of the longer pieces. Mostly a curiosity for hardcore fans, Rocka Rolla definitely hints at Judas Priest's potential and originality, but doesn't always suggest the quantum leap in vision that would occur with their very next record.
A sketchy and underfocused debut, Rocka Rolla nonetheless begins to delineate the musical territory Judas Priest would explore over the remainder of the decade: frighteningly dark in its effect, tight in its grooves, and capable of expanding to epic song lengths. On the other hand, Rocka Rolla is also murkier, less precise and powerful in its riff attack, and more blues-based; the stylistic debts to Black Sabbath and Deep Purple are obvious at this juncture, although they would become much less apparent on subsequent releases. The compositions alternate between short songs and extended suites; some are decent, but overall they don't establish a real direction and tend to plod aimlessly in many of the longer pieces. Mostly a curiosity for hardcore fans, Rocka Rolla definitely hints at Judas Priest's potential and originality, but doesn't always suggest the quantum leap in vision that would occur with their very next record.
I wanted to call this the most readable album since Quadrophenia, but it's only the wordiest--two inner sleeves covered with lyrics and a double-fold that's all small-type libretto. The apparent subject is the symbolic quest of a Puerto Rican hood/street kid/graffiti artist named Rael, but the songs neither shine by themselves nor suggest any thematic insight I'm eager to pursue. For art-rock, though, it's listenable, from Eno treatments to a hook that goes (I'm humming) "on Braw-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw-dway." B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineGiven all the overt literary references of Selling England by the Pound, along with their taste for epic suites such as "Supper's Ready," it was only a matter of time before Genesis attempted a full-fledged concept album, and 1974's The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway was a massive rock opera: the winding, wielding story of a Puerto Rican hustler name Rael making his way in New York City. Peter Gabriel made some tentative moves toward developing this story into a movie with William Friedkin but it never took off, perhaps it's just as well; even with the lengthy libretto included with the album, the story never makes sense. But just because the story is rather impenetrable doesn't mean that the album is as well, because it is a forceful, imaginative piece of work that showcases the original Genesis lineup at a peak. Even if the story is rather hard to piece together, the album is set up in a remarkable fashion, with the first LP being devoted to pop-oriented rock songs and the second being largely devoted to instrumentals. This means that The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway contains both Genesis' most immediate music to date and its most elliptical. Depending on a listener's taste, they may gravitate toward the first LP with its tight collection of ten rock songs, or the nightmarish landscapes of the second, where Rael descends into darkness and ultimately redemption (or so it would seem), but there's little question that the first album is far more direct than the second and it contains a number of masterpieces, from the opening fanfare of the title song to the surging "In the Cage," from the frightening "Back in NYC" to the soothing conclusion "The Carpet Crawlers." In retrospect, this first LP plays a bit more like the first Gabriel solo album than the final Genesis album, but there's also little question that the band helps form and shape this music (with Brian Eno adding extra coloring on occasion), while Genesis shines as a group shines on the impressionistic second half. In every way, it's a considerable, lasting achievement and it's little wonder that Peter Gabriel had to leave the band after this record: they had gone as far as they could go together, and could never top this extraordinary album.
Given all the overt literary references of Selling England by the Pound, along with their taste for epic suites such as "Supper's Ready," it was only a matter of time before Genesis attempted a full-fledged concept album, and 1974's The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway was a massive rock opera: the winding, wielding story of a Puerto Rican hustler name Rael making his way in New York City. Peter Gabriel made some tentative moves toward developing this story into a movie with William Friedkin but it never took off, perhaps it's just as well; even with the lengthy libretto included with the album, the story never makes sense. But just because the story is rather impenetrable doesn't mean that the album is as well, because it is a forceful, imaginative piece of work that showcases the original Genesis lineup at a peak. Even if the story is rather hard to piece together, the album is set up in a remarkable fashion, with the first LP being devoted to pop-oriented rock songs and the second being largely devoted to instrumentals. This means that The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway contains both Genesis' most immediate music to date and its most elliptical. Depending on a listener's taste, they may gravitate toward the first LP with its tight collection of ten rock songs, or the nightmarish landscapes of the second, where Rael descends into darkness and ultimately redemption (or so it would seem), but there's little question that the first album is far more direct than the second and it contains a number of masterpieces, from the opening fanfare of the title song to the surging "In the Cage," from the frightening "Back in NYC" to the soothing conclusion "The Carpet Crawlers." In retrospect, this first LP plays a bit more like the first Gabriel solo album than the final Genesis album, but there's also little question that the band helps form and shape this music (with Brian Eno adding extra coloring on occasion), while Genesis shines as a group shines on the impressionistic second half. In every way, it's a considerable, lasting achievement and it's little wonder that Peter Gabriel had to leave the band after this record: they had gone as far as they could go together, and could never top this extraordinary album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:26 (thirteen years ago)
How long will this poll take to reach to No. 1?
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:28 (thirteen years ago)
Are you in a rush?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:30 (thirteen years ago)
No plans as such and we're not in a rush or anything. If we finish on friday then fair enough if we finish mid of next week then fair enough too. Lets just see how things go and enjoy the rollout and the chat and the discovery of new albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:33 (thirteen years ago)
lots of cool albums dont end up being ranked by RYM (multiple x-posts)
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:37 (thirteen years ago)
Of course. But we'll see if that's the only one for this poll or not.
I ignored that first Priest album for years. I didn't have high expectations when I heard it, and was pleasantly surprised. On the other hand, it wasn't nearly great enough to make it anywhere near my top 100.
Never could get into Genesis in a big way, but can appreciate the ambition and scope of that one.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:38 (thirteen years ago)
TOO LOW for The Lamb (my #8). A favourite for long car rides.
Rod and Mott albums really classic too.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:39 (thirteen years ago)
440. THE RED CRAYOLA Soldier Talk (512 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #283 for 1979 http://www.connollyco.com/discography/red_krayola/soldier_hi.jpg
Exhilarated by the critical success of Pere Ubu's dada punk, Radar Records reissued The Parable of Arable Land in 1978 and God Bless in 1979. Mayo Thompson and New York drummer Jesse Chamberlain reformed Red Crayola to make Soldier-Talk, aided by Lora Logic and the entirety of Pere Ubu (which Thompson later joined). Uniting Red Crayola's flower-power garage music with modernistic, fragmented arrangements and a fierce, broken beat, the album centers on cynical military themes. A challenging work. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Thom JurekIssued in 1979 by the short-lived Radar imprint under Warner UK, Soldier Talk is among the loopiest of the Red Krayola's offerings. Featuring Mayo Thompson and Jesse Chamberlain's vocal warbling, with ear-woundingly thin Fender guitar with the treble turned all the way up, and Chamberlain's very jazz-like drumming. While these two pair up on a number of cuts as simply a duo, there are other players here as well, including all of the Chrysalis-era, New Picnic Time Pere Ubu, Lora Logic, Dick Cuthell, and Christine Thompson. Yeah. These "songs" are engaging, even compelling in places, but seldom together. Thompson is as humorous as a sarcastic academic most of the time here, as though he hasn't fully digested all the theory he was still taking in. This is more like Deluze and Guatarri doing avant rock than Thompson's later exercises which are roaring-out-loud hilarious. That said, there are great moments here and any real fan of the Krayola needs this -- for the post-punk drive, drop, and crash of "Conspirator's Oath," the drifting instrumental washes of "X" with Logic; or the angular, off-kilter, knife's-edge white-boy funk of "Uh, Knowledge Dance," which could have actually been covered by the Pop Group -- and Thomspon sounds uncannily like Mark Stewart of same here. There are stronger moments by the Red Krayola, but this one certainly has its own, and should be snagged by anyone interested in the band, Art & Language, or post-punk's more musically adventurous side.
Issued in 1979 by the short-lived Radar imprint under Warner UK, Soldier Talk is among the loopiest of the Red Krayola's offerings. Featuring Mayo Thompson and Jesse Chamberlain's vocal warbling, with ear-woundingly thin Fender guitar with the treble turned all the way up, and Chamberlain's very jazz-like drumming. While these two pair up on a number of cuts as simply a duo, there are other players here as well, including all of the Chrysalis-era, New Picnic Time Pere Ubu, Lora Logic, Dick Cuthell, and Christine Thompson. Yeah. These "songs" are engaging, even compelling in places, but seldom together. Thompson is as humorous as a sarcastic academic most of the time here, as though he hasn't fully digested all the theory he was still taking in. This is more like Deluze and Guatarri doing avant rock than Thompson's later exercises which are roaring-out-loud hilarious. That said, there are great moments here and any real fan of the Krayola needs this -- for the post-punk drive, drop, and crash of "Conspirator's Oath," the drifting instrumental washes of "X" with Logic; or the angular, off-kilter, knife's-edge white-boy funk of "Uh, Knowledge Dance," which could have actually been covered by the Pop Group -- and Thomspon sounds uncannily like Mark Stewart of same here. There are stronger moments by the Red Krayola, but this one certainly has its own, and should be snagged by anyone interested in the band, Art & Language, or post-punk's more musically adventurous side.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:43 (thirteen years ago)
xp I voted for the Mott album too now I think about it (and check my ballot!), a much-underrated band IMO. Everyone mentions "All the Young Dudes" but the stuff they wrote themselves was every bit as good. Ian Hunter is a dude as well, would like to read his tour diaries some time.
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:44 (thirteen years ago)
Surely Mott will place though, no?
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:45 (thirteen years ago)
My albums ballot was way less radio-friendly than my tracks ballot, btw, partly because I spent much more time on it, but also because I think of e.g. avant-garde prog and fusion as albums genres. (Forgot to vote for Area though!)
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:49 (thirteen years ago)
439. HUMBLE PIE Humble Pie (514 Points, 3 Votes)RYM: #454 for 1970 http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B000AQBAU8.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_V1141321255_.jpg
reviewby Jim NewsomAlternating hard-driving blues-rockers with country-folk numbers, Humble Pie neatly showcases the two sides of this band's personality on their first release for a major American label and third album overall. All of the elements are in place for the sound that would reach its studio peak with the next release, Rock On, and culminate with the classic Live at the Fillmore album. "Earth and Water Song" provides a blueprint for the acoustic guitar-based sound Peter Frampton would ride to multi-platinum success as a solo artist later in the decade. "One Eyed Trouser-Snake Rumba" and "Red Light Mama, Red Hot!" show the hard-rocking direction in which Steve Marriott would move the band after Frampton's departure the following year.
Alternating hard-driving blues-rockers with country-folk numbers, Humble Pie neatly showcases the two sides of this band's personality on their first release for a major American label and third album overall. All of the elements are in place for the sound that would reach its studio peak with the next release, Rock On, and culminate with the classic Live at the Fillmore album. "Earth and Water Song" provides a blueprint for the acoustic guitar-based sound Peter Frampton would ride to multi-platinum success as a solo artist later in the decade. "One Eyed Trouser-Snake Rumba" and "Red Light Mama, Red Hot!" show the hard-rocking direction in which Steve Marriott would move the band after Frampton's departure the following year.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:51 (thirteen years ago)
Love Frampton-era Humble Pie, but I've never been able to find a copy of that one.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:53 (thirteen years ago)
I like the Aubrey Beardsley style cover art!
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:54 (thirteen years ago)
^yeah wow at that
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 16:56 (thirteen years ago)
438. BRASS CONSTRUCTION Brass Construction (514 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #493 for 1975 http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/468/MI0002468407.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Some bands enjoy their greatest success with their first release, and this Brooklyn-based funk ensemble is a good example. Their first single was the chart-topping "Movin'." Aside from the verse being chanted in unison, this aggressively paced dance number, with its catchy, melodious hook line, utilizes reeds and brass, complemented by keyboard and synthesizer solos from bandleader Randy Muller. The single moved its way to the number one spot on the R&B charts, the group's only chart-topper out of 17 singles that reached the charts, and one of two to ever crack the Top Ten. The follow-up single, "Changin'," has a similar arrangement at a slightly slower tempo. The melody is not seductive like its predecessor. Seeming to be more of a musical exhibition and less dance-oriented, it still managed to peak at number 24 on the charts. While the group's music is centered around its horns, the majority of the songs from this album feature vocals throughout the verses and choruses. Adding their social awareness to the mix on a couple tracks, all numbers are consistent with the album's dance/funk appeal.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:02 (thirteen years ago)
Such a great album this, pleased to see others liked it too! Some great guitar on it too.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:05 (thirteen years ago)
more great cover art, look at those trousers!
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:06 (thirteen years ago)
Do people still laugh at 70s fashions? I remember in the 80s and 90s that the 70s was seen as by far the worst.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:10 (thirteen years ago)
Wasn't the 90s all about reviving the 70s? Always thought 80s got the most laffs.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:11 (thirteen years ago)
Not going to be able to keep up with all of this obv, but got Red Crayola - Soldier-Talk on just now and it's sounding good.
― oldsockstofu (Mr Andy M), Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:12 (thirteen years ago)
those trousers are funny/amazing by any aesthetic standards
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:15 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, I wasn't actually specifically thinking of these clothes when I said that.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:16 (thirteen years ago)
Oh here is xgau on Brass Construction
All disco bands sound alike--and if you've seen one ghetto you've seen them all, not to mention their residents, with their swarthy skin and flat (or is it hooked?) noses. Yeah sure. This specific disco band is black-identified, i.e., non-hustle/samba with lots of funk. It owes more lyrically to Gil Scott-Heron than to Barry White but evokes both and is candid to the point of wryness (and terseness) about using words primarily for musical color. I like the way the synthesized violins are timed and love the fanfare coda to "Love," my favorite cut. B+ -- R. Christgau
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:19 (thirteen years ago)
437. GARY WILSON You Think You Really Know Me (515 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #338 for 1977 http://beck-static.s3.amazonaws.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/gary_510.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2hSaFxn4AKOLAbLt2TfBAT
He makes his own record (with a little help from friends here and there, but mostly just him) at home. He wants to be cool, but he sounds like Lou Reed's dumb cousin trying to be Mel Tormé or something and has these songs that sound like the electric-piano-dominated, bleached-out funk-jazz soundtracks for public service announcements. Such is the medium for his fevered imaginings: "I wanna lose control (hey!) for 15 minutes (hah!)…" The "groovy girls make love at the beach" but are "out of reach." "Sick trips take the place of someone else's blind date." And so on. The more he screams, "She's got red lips ... she's real," the more you know she's not. (She's a blow-up doll.) And then he'll dip and swerve into a psychedelic guitar mood piece ("sometimes I wish I were dead…") Intense! -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Michael SuttonGary Wilson's You Think You Really Know Me may be the weirdest album released in 1977; it's also one of the most influential. The impact of this quirky lo-fi record can never be truly measured. Not many people are aware of it; however, it inspired Beck's sonic collages and showed college radio stations that home tapings shouldn't be ignored. Wilson recorded You Think You Really Know Me in his parents' basement, and it certainly has an intimate feel. On "6.4 = Make Out," Wilson sounds like he's whispering in your ear. With a voice reminiscent of Lou Reed's, Wilson aches like a sexually frustrated Barry White. Porno-movie synthesizers create a sleazy atmosphere as Wilson reaches new heights of emotional intensity when he bellows, "She's real/She's so real," at the track's end. A person is left wondering if the girl actually exists or if he's just trying to convince himself that she does. Even more unsettling is "Loneliness," wherein Wilson confesses in a distorted, psychotic voice, "Sometimes I wish I were dead," followed by samples of running water and a telephone operator. But this isn't a gloomy LP. "You Keep on Looking" and "And Then I Kissed Your Lips" utilize chirpy new wave keyboards years before they became fashionable. Wilson is having fun on You Think You Really Know Me, and his enjoyment is infectious, especially when his lunatic personality hogs the spotlight.
Gary Wilson's You Think You Really Know Me may be the weirdest album released in 1977; it's also one of the most influential. The impact of this quirky lo-fi record can never be truly measured. Not many people are aware of it; however, it inspired Beck's sonic collages and showed college radio stations that home tapings shouldn't be ignored. Wilson recorded You Think You Really Know Me in his parents' basement, and it certainly has an intimate feel. On "6.4 = Make Out," Wilson sounds like he's whispering in your ear. With a voice reminiscent of Lou Reed's, Wilson aches like a sexually frustrated Barry White. Porno-movie synthesizers create a sleazy atmosphere as Wilson reaches new heights of emotional intensity when he bellows, "She's real/She's so real," at the track's end. A person is left wondering if the girl actually exists or if he's just trying to convince himself that she does. Even more unsettling is "Loneliness," wherein Wilson confesses in a distorted, psychotic voice, "Sometimes I wish I were dead," followed by samples of running water and a telephone operator. But this isn't a gloomy LP. "You Keep on Looking" and "And Then I Kissed Your Lips" utilize chirpy new wave keyboards years before they became fashionable. Wilson is having fun on You Think You Really Know Me, and his enjoyment is infectious, especially when his lunatic personality hogs the spotlight.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:26 (thirteen years ago)
The Dom track playing in plug.dj/ILXORS right now ("Edge of Time") sounds very nice.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:26 (thirteen years ago)
that Gary Wilson album sounds intriguing
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:27 (thirteen years ago)
xpost - I think that Red Crayola album is my first discovery from the albums rollout. I love the way the vocals *almost* follow the guitar or horn lines, but they're too freaked out to match precisely.
also, You Think You Really Know Me is my first vote to place! I was starting to wonder if I'd voted in the wrong poll.
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:29 (thirteen years ago)
436. UNIVERS ZERO Heresie (516 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #106 for 1977http://img12.nnm.ru/1/6/f/6/2/204964b6d6756ffa214a887fb61_prev.jpg
Hello darkness my old friend! Perhaps even more than the work of Throbbing Gristle Belgian Univers Zero's Heresie, tucked away right at the end of the decade, reveals the irrigation ditch Rock was inevitably going to find itself lying face down in. Like the aforementioned Magma and Plastic People albums, one can hear Bartok and Stravinsky in here, Penderecki and Ligeti too, but the sludge-like brutality and monumentality instantly mark them as Rock. However unlike its progeny, Swans or [insert modern Doom Rock outfit] there is a lightness of touch, an inherent musicality that carry the listener onwards. -- WoebotI recommend their first album (which was self-titled when released on vinyl but has been reissued on CD as 1313 in a different mix.) Really dark, heavy and very "20th century". I find their approach to rhythm to be more organic and less forced sounding then some of the other RIO bands like Henry Cow. Kinda reminds me of Stravinsky in the same way that Magma reminds me of Wagner at times. But that's just me. Hope this helps! -- Member of Unsung Forum
I recommend their first album (which was self-titled when released on vinyl but has been reissued on CD as 1313 in a different mix.) Really dark, heavy and very "20th century". I find their approach to rhythm to be more organic and less forced sounding then some of the other RIO bands like Henry Cow. Kinda reminds me of Stravinsky in the same way that Magma reminds me of Wagner at times. But that's just me. Hope this helps! -- Member of Unsung Forum
review[-] by William TillandUnivers Zero's debut recording, 1313, may be somber, but it's a walk in the park compared to their second release, which features more or less the same lineup as the first (oboe, bassoon, viola, violin, bass, guitar, keyboards, drums), except for an additional and prominent contribution of cathedral organ from guitarist/keyboardist Roger Trigaux. Studio overdubbing sometimes gives the five-man group the sound of a much larger chamber ensemble. Extremely dissonant and emotionally bleak, Heresie is sometimes quite close to the industrial and gothic genres -- which didn't really even exist for another five years or more. A Magma influence is readily discernible on the long opening track "La Faulx," which includes the guttural chanting favored by Magma's Christian Vander. (In the early '70s, Univers Zero drummer Daniel Denis was employed as a second drummer in Vander's group.) "Jack the Ripper," the second long piece, maintains the oppressive atmosphere, and after a long, brooding introduction, introduces the nervous, jabbing ostinato patterns which were to become a Univers Zero trademark. This music on this CD might have little to do with rock, and might also be a massive downer, but the quality of the writing and playing is extremely high. Michel Berckmans' solo work on oboe and bassoon work is magnificent, and Patrick Hanappier's string playing (violin and viola) also demonstrates the precision of a trained classical musician, along with demonic avant-garde scraping and howling on "Jack the Ripper." Best of all, Univers Zero never cheapens the effect of the music with any of the stock cartoon licks which are associated with the gothic genre today. Group members sound deadly serious about what they're doing, which might call their sanity into question, but which makes for an incredibly powerful listening experience. In fact, Heresie is a stunning one-of-a-kind item that has never been duplicated by anyone -- including Univers Zero. [The Cuneiform label's 2010 remastered edition includes the nearly 12-minute previously unreleased bonus track "Chaos Hermétique."]
Univers Zero's debut recording, 1313, may be somber, but it's a walk in the park compared to their second release, which features more or less the same lineup as the first (oboe, bassoon, viola, violin, bass, guitar, keyboards, drums), except for an additional and prominent contribution of cathedral organ from guitarist/keyboardist Roger Trigaux. Studio overdubbing sometimes gives the five-man group the sound of a much larger chamber ensemble. Extremely dissonant and emotionally bleak, Heresie is sometimes quite close to the industrial and gothic genres -- which didn't really even exist for another five years or more. A Magma influence is readily discernible on the long opening track "La Faulx," which includes the guttural chanting favored by Magma's Christian Vander. (In the early '70s, Univers Zero drummer Daniel Denis was employed as a second drummer in Vander's group.) "Jack the Ripper," the second long piece, maintains the oppressive atmosphere, and after a long, brooding introduction, introduces the nervous, jabbing ostinato patterns which were to become a Univers Zero trademark. This music on this CD might have little to do with rock, and might also be a massive downer, but the quality of the writing and playing is extremely high. Michel Berckmans' solo work on oboe and bassoon work is magnificent, and Patrick Hanappier's string playing (violin and viola) also demonstrates the precision of a trained classical musician, along with demonic avant-garde scraping and howling on "Jack the Ripper." Best of all, Univers Zero never cheapens the effect of the music with any of the stock cartoon licks which are associated with the gothic genre today. Group members sound deadly serious about what they're doing, which might call their sanity into question, but which makes for an incredibly powerful listening experience. In fact, Heresie is a stunning one-of-a-kind item that has never been duplicated by anyone -- including Univers Zero. [The Cuneiform label's 2010 remastered edition includes the nearly 12-minute previously unreleased bonus track "Chaos Hermétique."]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:51 (thirteen years ago)
You've heard everything but the Red Crayola? There's at least a dozen I haven't heard! Plus Univers Zero!
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 17:52 (thirteen years ago)
OK, A.R & Machines - Echo is pretty weird. I like it so far but.. definitely weird.
― oldsockstofu (Mr Andy M), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:02 (thirteen years ago)
A strange, bitter record that no one could love unconditionally, Rocka Rolla...
hey now I love that album unconditionally! This is a great list so far too.
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:04 (thirteen years ago)
xpost to Fastnbulbous: oh god no, I meant it was the first album on the list that really caught my attention. I haven't even heard OF most of these.
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:06 (thirteen years ago)
xp What if it wasn't Judas Priest tho?
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:08 (thirteen years ago)
435. FACES Long Player (521 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #317 for 1971 http://www.aggroshop.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/f/a/faces-longplayer.jpeghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0MDp8mJ7hKXUn5qnEWqTlN
The difference between these guys and their smaller forebears, the ones who released round-covered albums and sang "Itchycoo Park" with whine and phase, isn't just Steve Marriott vs. Rod Stewart. It's 1968 vs. 1971. Marriott was a pop craftsman with the Small Faces; with Humble Pie he's a boogie man. Stewart is a pop craftsman solo; with the Faces he's a boogie man. Boogie's not a bad idea, especially when you play it fast and loose rather than 'eavy like the 'Umbles. But as exciting as it is theoretically--and by comparison with the competition, boogieing and otherwise--it doesn't have much staying power. That's partly because they play it too loose and not quite fast enough. And partly because Stewart reserves his popcraft for solo LPs. B -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineOn their second album Long Player, the Faces truly gel -- which isn't quite the same thing as having the band straighten up and fly right because in many ways this is album is even more ragged than their debut, with tracks that sound like they were recorded through a shoebox thrown up against a couple of haphazardly placed live cuts. But if the album seems pieced together from a few different sources, the band itself all seems to be coming from the same place, turning into a ferocious rock & roll band who, on their best day, could wrestle the title of greatest rock & roll band away from the Stones. Certainly, the sheer force of the nine-minute jam on Big Bill Broonzy's "I Feel So Good" proves that, but what's more remarkable is how the band are dovetailing as songwriters, complementing and collaborating with very different styles, to the extent that it's hard to tell who wrote what; indeed, the ragged, heartbroken "Tell Everyone" sounds like a Stewart original, but it comes from the pen of Ronnie Lane. The key is that Stewart, Lane and Ron Wood (Ian McLagan only co-write "Bad 'N' Ruin") are all coming from the same place, all celebrating a rock & roll that's ordinary in subject but not in sound. Take "Bad 'N' Ruin," the tale of a ne'er do well returning home with his tail between his legs, after the city didn't treat him well. It has its counterpart in "Had Me a Real Good Time," where a reveler insists that he has to leave, concluding that he was glad to come but also glad to get home. These are songs that celebrate home, from family to the neighborhood, and that big heart beats strong in the ballads, too, from the aching "Sweet Lady Mary" to the extraordinary reworking of Paul McCartney's "Maybe I'm Amazed," which soars in ways Macca's exceptional original never did. Then, there's there humor -- the ramshackle "On the Beach," the throwaway lines from Rod on "Had Me a Real Good Time" -- which give this a warm, cheerful heart that helps make Long Player a record as big, messy, and wonderful as life itself.
On their second album Long Player, the Faces truly gel -- which isn't quite the same thing as having the band straighten up and fly right because in many ways this is album is even more ragged than their debut, with tracks that sound like they were recorded through a shoebox thrown up against a couple of haphazardly placed live cuts. But if the album seems pieced together from a few different sources, the band itself all seems to be coming from the same place, turning into a ferocious rock & roll band who, on their best day, could wrestle the title of greatest rock & roll band away from the Stones. Certainly, the sheer force of the nine-minute jam on Big Bill Broonzy's "I Feel So Good" proves that, but what's more remarkable is how the band are dovetailing as songwriters, complementing and collaborating with very different styles, to the extent that it's hard to tell who wrote what; indeed, the ragged, heartbroken "Tell Everyone" sounds like a Stewart original, but it comes from the pen of Ronnie Lane. The key is that Stewart, Lane and Ron Wood (Ian McLagan only co-write "Bad 'N' Ruin") are all coming from the same place, all celebrating a rock & roll that's ordinary in subject but not in sound. Take "Bad 'N' Ruin," the tale of a ne'er do well returning home with his tail between his legs, after the city didn't treat him well. It has its counterpart in "Had Me a Real Good Time," where a reveler insists that he has to leave, concluding that he was glad to come but also glad to get home. These are songs that celebrate home, from family to the neighborhood, and that big heart beats strong in the ballads, too, from the aching "Sweet Lady Mary" to the extraordinary reworking of Paul McCartney's "Maybe I'm Amazed," which soars in ways Macca's exceptional original never did. Then, there's there humor -- the ramshackle "On the Beach," the throwaway lines from Rod on "Had Me a Real Good Time" -- which give this a warm, cheerful heart that helps make Long Player a record as big, messy, and wonderful as life itself.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:10 (thirteen years ago)
did Faces crack the us?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:24 (thirteen years ago)
434. RUSH 2112 (523 Ponts, 5 Votes)RYM: #13 for 1976 , #919 overall | Acclaimed: #1058http://gunshyassassin.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/2112-cover.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6084R9tVaGpB9yefy7ObuQ
One half concept album, one half the usual eclectic display of steel and silk, 2112 is Rush's first truly confident work, a record tall and elegant, completely at peace with the band's inflated mission...most of us were more enthralled by the majesty of the record's high-minded rockers: "The Temples Of Syrinx," "A Passage To Bangkok," and "Something For Nothing," all fueling the theory that Rush could be kinds of the heavy metal heap if they'd only drop the pretensions and raise their fists. But the combined whole was necessary to lend Rush its particular aura as creators of a new sub-genre, progressive metal, the new realm populated by aspiring writers simultaneously parading their musical chops. 7/9 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Greg PratoWhereas Rush's first two releases, their self-titled debut and Fly by Night, helped create a buzz among hard rock fans worldwide, the more progressive third release, Caress of Steel, confused many of their supporters. Rush knew it was now or never with their fourth release, and they delivered just in time -- 1976's 2112 proved to be their much sought-after commercial breakthrough and remains one of their most popular albums. Instead of choosing between prog rock and heavy rock, both styles are merged together to create an interesting and original approach. The entire first side is comprised of the classic title track, which paints a chilling picture of a future world where technology is in control (Peart's lyrics for the piece being influenced by Ayn Rand). Comprised of seven "sections," the track proved that the trio members were fast becoming rock's most accomplished instrumentalists. The second side contains shorter selections, such as the Middle Eastern-flavored "A Passage to Bangkok" and the album-closing rocker "Something for Nothing." 2112 is widely considered by Rush fans as their first true "classic" album, the first in a string of similarly high-quality albums.
Whereas Rush's first two releases, their self-titled debut and Fly by Night, helped create a buzz among hard rock fans worldwide, the more progressive third release, Caress of Steel, confused many of their supporters. Rush knew it was now or never with their fourth release, and they delivered just in time -- 1976's 2112 proved to be their much sought-after commercial breakthrough and remains one of their most popular albums. Instead of choosing between prog rock and heavy rock, both styles are merged together to create an interesting and original approach. The entire first side is comprised of the classic title track, which paints a chilling picture of a future world where technology is in control (Peart's lyrics for the piece being influenced by Ayn Rand). Comprised of seven "sections," the track proved that the trio members were fast becoming rock's most accomplished instrumentalists. The second side contains shorter selections, such as the Middle Eastern-flavored "A Passage to Bangkok" and the album-closing rocker "Something for Nothing." 2112 is widely considered by Rush fans as their first true "classic" album, the first in a string of similarly high-quality albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:29 (thirteen years ago)
that's pretty low isn't it? Thought there were Rush stans on ILM, maybe they're not voters though
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:31 (thirteen years ago)
Dunno bout radio at the time, I was a toddler, but not on classic rock radio.
Funny thing, this is one of my least favorite Rush albums. I go back and forth between this and other early ones, but I just don't dig the tunes on most of it.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:31 (thirteen years ago)
My favorite Rush album!!!
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:32 (thirteen years ago)
WE ARE THE PRIESTS
OF THE TEMPLE
OF SYRINX
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:33 (thirteen years ago)
I voted for A Farewell to Kings at #19 and Hemispheres at #61 but not this one.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:33 (thirteen years ago)
(Peart's lyrics for the piece being influenced by Ayn Rand).
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:35 (thirteen years ago)
Thought there were Rush stans on ILM, maybe they're not voters though
yeah theres loads but for whatever reason didnt vote.... or did they?
xps
hah theres 1!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:36 (thirteen years ago)
but when a huge band like rush place outside the top 400 then you know its a quality poll (even if i dislike rush i cant deny people really rate them highly)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:40 (thirteen years ago)
In both the Classics documentary on 2112 and the Rush movie, they reiterate that while Peart thought Ayn Rand's Anthem was a cool book, he didn't necessarily subscribe to all her philosophies. They showed some of the media backlash at the time calling them ultra-conservatives and neo-nazis, and Lee, who's parents or grandparents survived Nazi prison camps, was deeply offended. By the media's assumptions, not Peart's innocuous lyrics!
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:41 (thirteen years ago)
Well, let's see how Kings did. It had two big singles. Judging by the tracks poll, though, it might not place that highly.
I do think a lot of the people who would have rated Rush didn't vote this time out.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:43 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, we've talked about the Rand thing over and over on this board. I think AG is just going for a cheap shot tbh.:P
Naw I've never heard of Faces. Stewart solo is huge here, of course but I don't think Faces ever got play here.
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:44 (thirteen years ago)
Amazingly, three of their albums seem to have gone top 40 on Billboard! But yeah, I never hear them on the radio.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:45 (thirteen years ago)
Too Low for 2112!!
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:48 (thirteen years ago)
433. JEFF BECK Blow By Blow (524 Points, 4 Votes)#87 for 1975 , #3344 overall | Acclaimed: #1270http://www.silvertentacle.com/images/JEFF%20BECK%20BLOW%20BY%20BLOW.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/1Wvkdqk2yqnzqsZiSiIOaq
Never before have I been fully convinced that Beck could improvise long lines, or jazz it up with a modicum of delicacy, or for that matter get funky. But he still has absolutely nothing to say. It's not that he's jettisoned the vocalist--lots of jazzmen say plenty without words. It's that he's a technician and nothing more, making music guaranteed to excite only one group of listeners--those who respond to complaints about content the way atheists respond to visions of the Most High. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Mark KirschenmannBlow by Blow typifies Jeff Beck's wonderfully unpredictable career. Released in 1975, Beck's fifth effort as a leader and first instrumental album was a marked departure from its more rock-based predecessors. Only composer/keyboardist Max Middleton returned from Beck's previous lineups. To Beck's credit, Blow by Blow features a tremendous supporting cast. Middleton's tasteful use of the Fender Rhodes, clavinet, and analog synthesizers leaves a soulful imprint. Drummer Richard Bailey is in equal measure supportive and propulsive as he deftly combines elements of jazz and funk with contemporary mixed meters. Much of the album's success is also attributable to the excellent material, which includes Middleton's two originals and two collaborations with Beck, a clever arrangement of Lennon and McCartney's "She's a Woman," and two originals by Stevie Wonder. George Martin's ingenious production and string arrangements rival his greatest work. Beck's versatile soloing and diverse tones are clearly the album's focus, and he proves to be an adept rhythm player. Blow by Blow is balanced by open-ended jamming and crisp ensemble interaction as it sidesteps the bombast that sank much of the jazz-rock fusion of the period. One of the album's unique qualities is the sense of fun that permeates the performances. On the opening "You Know What I Mean," Beck's stinging, blues-based soloing is full of imaginative shapes and daring leaps. On "Air Blower," elaborate layers of rhythm, duel lead, and solo guitars find their place in the mix. Propelled by the galvanic rhythm section, Beck slashes his way into "Scatterbrain," where a dizzying keyboard and guitar line leads to more energetic soloing from Beck and Middleton. In Stevie Wonder's ballad "Cause We've Ended as Lovers," Beck variously coaxes and unleashes sighs and screams from his guitar in an aching dedication to Roy Buchanan. Middleton's aptly titled "Freeway Jam" best exemplifies the album's loose and fun-loving qualities, with Beck again riding high atop the rhythm section's wave. As with "Scatterbrain," Martin's impeccable string arrangements enhance the subtle harmonic shades of the closing "Diamond Dust." Blow by Blow signaled a new creative peak for Beck, and it proved to be a difficult act to follow. It is a testament to the power of effective collaboration and, given the circumstances, Beck clearly rose to the occasion. In addition to being a personal milestone, Blow by Blow ranks as one of the premiere recordings in the canon of instrumental rock music.
Blow by Blow typifies Jeff Beck's wonderfully unpredictable career. Released in 1975, Beck's fifth effort as a leader and first instrumental album was a marked departure from its more rock-based predecessors. Only composer/keyboardist Max Middleton returned from Beck's previous lineups. To Beck's credit, Blow by Blow features a tremendous supporting cast. Middleton's tasteful use of the Fender Rhodes, clavinet, and analog synthesizers leaves a soulful imprint. Drummer Richard Bailey is in equal measure supportive and propulsive as he deftly combines elements of jazz and funk with contemporary mixed meters. Much of the album's success is also attributable to the excellent material, which includes Middleton's two originals and two collaborations with Beck, a clever arrangement of Lennon and McCartney's "She's a Woman," and two originals by Stevie Wonder. George Martin's ingenious production and string arrangements rival his greatest work. Beck's versatile soloing and diverse tones are clearly the album's focus, and he proves to be an adept rhythm player. Blow by Blow is balanced by open-ended jamming and crisp ensemble interaction as it sidesteps the bombast that sank much of the jazz-rock fusion of the period. One of the album's unique qualities is the sense of fun that permeates the performances. On the opening "You Know What I Mean," Beck's stinging, blues-based soloing is full of imaginative shapes and daring leaps. On "Air Blower," elaborate layers of rhythm, duel lead, and solo guitars find their place in the mix. Propelled by the galvanic rhythm section, Beck slashes his way into "Scatterbrain," where a dizzying keyboard and guitar line leads to more energetic soloing from Beck and Middleton. In Stevie Wonder's ballad "Cause We've Ended as Lovers," Beck variously coaxes and unleashes sighs and screams from his guitar in an aching dedication to Roy Buchanan. Middleton's aptly titled "Freeway Jam" best exemplifies the album's loose and fun-loving qualities, with Beck again riding high atop the rhythm section's wave. As with "Scatterbrain," Martin's impeccable string arrangements enhance the subtle harmonic shades of the closing "Diamond Dust." Blow by Blow signaled a new creative peak for Beck, and it proved to be a difficult act to follow. It is a testament to the power of effective collaboration and, given the circumstances, Beck clearly rose to the occasion. In addition to being a personal milestone, Blow by Blow ranks as one of the premiere recordings in the canon of instrumental rock music.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:52 (thirteen years ago)
Ohhh yeah!!
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:52 (thirteen years ago)
TOO LOW.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:53 (thirteen years ago)
lol Christgau
― Jaded ex-host (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:54 (thirteen years ago)
My #29. And, argh, why the Xgau??:P
xpost ha
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 18:54 (thirteen years ago)
"I dunno, he just kinda sucks."-- R. Christgau
432. ROBERT FRIPP Exposure (524 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #151 for 1979 | Acclaimed: #1774http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Ao0Audpgr0/UCjiy-HCP8I/AAAAAAAAAXU/wIDdUmf1ses/s1600/front.jpg
The loosely autobiographical Exposure is the closest Fripp has come to a pop effort, with guest vocals by Gabriel, Daryl Hall, Peter Hammill and Terre Roche. Interlarded with tape-loop guitar episodes and enigmatic spoken-word communiqués from several sources, the record manages to overcome the self-referential preciousness inherent in such an enterprise — but just barely. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Ted MillsConceived as the third part of an MOR trilogy that included Peter Gabriel's second album and Daryl Hall's Sacred Songs, Exposure is concerned with a marketplace that Fripp saw as hostile to experimentation and hungry for product. Strangely, then, Exposure is one of his most varied and successful rock albums, offering a broad selection of styles. "Water Music I and II" is pure Frippertronics; "Disengage" and "I May Not Have Had Enough of Me But I've Had Enough of You" are angular, jagged rock like he would make with the reformed King Crimson; "North Star" is a soulful ballad led by Daryl Hall on vocals, and a less bombastic version of "Here Comes the Flood" with Peter Gabriel singing makes a melancholic ending. Peter Hammill, Terre Roche, and Narada Michael Walden also add vocals to a pleasant experiment in pop, Fripp style.
Conceived as the third part of an MOR trilogy that included Peter Gabriel's second album and Daryl Hall's Sacred Songs, Exposure is concerned with a marketplace that Fripp saw as hostile to experimentation and hungry for product. Strangely, then, Exposure is one of his most varied and successful rock albums, offering a broad selection of styles. "Water Music I and II" is pure Frippertronics; "Disengage" and "I May Not Have Had Enough of Me But I've Had Enough of You" are angular, jagged rock like he would make with the reformed King Crimson; "North Star" is a soulful ballad led by Daryl Hall on vocals, and a less bombastic version of "Here Comes the Flood" with Peter Gabriel singing makes a melancholic ending. Peter Hammill, Terre Roche, and Narada Michael Walden also add vocals to a pleasant experiment in pop, Fripp style.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:14 (thirteen years ago)
I had no idea Walden was a singer, I only knew him as the second drummer from the Mahavishnu Orchestra. Maybe I should check this album out.
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:17 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, March 16, 2013 2:24 PM (51 minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
Yep, "Stay with Me" hit #17, and can still be heard on "classic rock" radio. They toured the US a lot and packed 'em in, but this also coincided with Stewart's popularity.
Ironically, first step was released in the US as by the Small Faces, since the label wanted there to be some name recognition ("Itchycoo Park" was a top 20 hit here).
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:22 (thirteen years ago)
Christgau's opinions can def. be infuriating! Feel free to rant! ;)
I got the remaster of that Fripp, fascinating stuff. Need to listen some more, it's been a while.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:24 (thirteen years ago)
TIE430. LUCIFER'S FRIEND Lucifer's Friend (530 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #72 for 1970 , #2122 overall http://www.backtoblackvinyl.com/images/album-artwork/download/lucifers-friend-lucifers-friend.jpg
John Lawton's pipes are clear and powerful (if mixed distant), and the recording is one of the best I've heard on a record this vintage. The very Iommi-ish guitar sound melds seamlessly with those honking Jon Lord-like keys as the boys sludge through it, unaware that they were acting out an integral part to metal's conception, or would have been had anyone been paying attention. 8/10 -- M. Popoff
Although they would develop a more prog-influenced style, this debut album finds Lucifer's Friend living up to their sinister name by performing heavy, keyboard-textured rock in the vein of Deep Purple or Uriah Heep. It gets off to a thunderous start with "Ride the Sky," a punchy rocker built on a rumbling, guitar-fuelled melody reminiscent of "The Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin. From there, the band works its way through a series of songs that combine heavy guitar riffs with often-complex arrangements that border on prog rock: "Keep Goin'" builds from organ-led verses into a guitar-dense jam driven home by John Lawton's wailing vocals, and the title track effectively contrasts heavy guitar-laden verses with an eerie chorus full odd keyboard and vocal effects to create its spooky atmosphere. Another highlight is "In the Time of Job When Mammon Was a Yippie," an eccentric but fun rocker featuring Lawton delivering an odd take on biblical history over a steady hard rock groove from the band. A downside of the album is that it lacks the varied instrumental textures that would make Lucifer's Friend's later work so interesting, but it makes up for this problem with a consistently high level of energy, clever arrangements, and a full-throttle vocal performance from Lawton. All in all, Lucifer's Friend is a solid debut and a worthwhile album for any listener interested in the roots of heavy metal.
430. JAPAN Adolescent Sex (530 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #308 for 1978 http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WWIy23PK7tM/TGwL_RQVZSI/AAAAAAAAJwI/3CiXGglS4P4/s1600/cover.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0b9T6GZMBmrLabXNQXleuQ
Adolescent Sex introduces Japan in all its guitar-rock misery, playing such Bowie-influenced tripe as "Wish You Were Black" with less style than a sense of urgency. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Amy HansonAlthough Japan later became one of new romantics' poster children, their 1978 Adolescent Sex LP predated the movement by two years. A remarkable debut, the set snarls with leftover punk intent, a few glam rock riffs, and a wealth of electronics that not only reach back to the band's youth, but also predate much of what would explode out of the next wave of British underground. Sounding absolutely nothing like MTV's mainstream Japan, the quintet snarls across the opener "Transmission," all snotty lads and frazzled hair, setting the stage for what follows. Except, rather than toeing that line, the band pull some remarkable tricks out of their admittedly tight sleeves. The "wow factor" of an incredibly funky bass and guitar on "The Unconventional," repeated again on "Wish You Were Black," is not only a surprise but leaves one wondering if the band were closet Chic fans -- especially in light of the seven-minute jam "Suburban Love" that follows a little later on. Elsewhere, though, the band play closer to their roots while defining their own style, which includes David Sylvian's wonderfully sexy, tousled vocals -- most notably on the epic, and sexy, post-punker "Television" and a cover of the vintage showstopper "Don't Rain on My Parade." A more exciting album than just about anything else they'd ever record, Japan were young, hungry, and more than a little rough around the edges. Despite the slick R&B work twined in, it's important to remember that this band were in the sonic foothold of an early edgy era -- groundbreakers at their own inception. The sound, that look -- it fit them well.
Although Japan later became one of new romantics' poster children, their 1978 Adolescent Sex LP predated the movement by two years. A remarkable debut, the set snarls with leftover punk intent, a few glam rock riffs, and a wealth of electronics that not only reach back to the band's youth, but also predate much of what would explode out of the next wave of British underground. Sounding absolutely nothing like MTV's mainstream Japan, the quintet snarls across the opener "Transmission," all snotty lads and frazzled hair, setting the stage for what follows. Except, rather than toeing that line, the band pull some remarkable tricks out of their admittedly tight sleeves. The "wow factor" of an incredibly funky bass and guitar on "The Unconventional," repeated again on "Wish You Were Black," is not only a surprise but leaves one wondering if the band were closet Chic fans -- especially in light of the seven-minute jam "Suburban Love" that follows a little later on. Elsewhere, though, the band play closer to their roots while defining their own style, which includes David Sylvian's wonderfully sexy, tousled vocals -- most notably on the epic, and sexy, post-punker "Television" and a cover of the vintage showstopper "Don't Rain on My Parade." A more exciting album than just about anything else they'd ever record, Japan were young, hungry, and more than a little rough around the edges. Despite the slick R&B work twined in, it's important to remember that this band were in the sonic foothold of an early edgy era -- groundbreakers at their own inception. The sound, that look -- it fit them well.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:32 (thirteen years ago)
trouser press even more brutal that shitegau
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:40 (thirteen years ago)
makes me want to listen to it though!
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:42 (thirteen years ago)
not buy it though!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:42 (thirteen years ago)
why not? would probably pick up a 2nd hand vinyl copy if I saw one
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:43 (thirteen years ago)
2112 is great
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:44 (thirteen years ago)
That Japan record would be an amazing find in a $5 bin, above that would take a little more consideration. Definitely sounds like a fun record though.
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:47 (thirteen years ago)
I love that Japan album, highly recommended for anyone who loves the electro-punk of early Tubeway Army, Ultravox, etc.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:53 (thirteen years ago)
429. ARMAGEDDON Armageddon (533 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #110 for 1975 , #4531 overall http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/342/MI0002342504.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/45ZKO3Cd83RS8xyALSNtcp
This second string supergroup (Yardbirds, Rod Stewart, Johnny Winter, Captain Beyond, REnaissance, Steamhammer) approximates a Hawkwind/Pink Fairies/Budgie/Baker Gurvitz Army/Nutz hybrid...this album's dense material rumbling with crumply, heavy, quirky, psychedelic and progressive determination... 7/8 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaCynics who perceive many super-groups as nothing more than bloated extrapolations of, at times, perfectly mundane musical components, can back up their assumptions with Armageddon's eponymous debut from 1975. The first and final spawn of the would-be-super-group featuring former Yardbird vocalist Keith Relf, erstwhile Captain Beyond drummer Bobby Caldwell, ex-Steamhammer guitarist Martin Pugh, and Relf's Renaissance partner, bassist Louis Cennamo, the album contains a meager five tracks -- four of which extend beyond the eight-minute barrier due to bouts of arguably unnecessary, self-indulgent waffling. On the other hand, this was the '70s, people, and of course this sort of excess was par for the course, back then. What's more, these same dubious qualities actually contributed to the album's eventual adoption as a precursor to the stoner rock movement by dope fiends everywhere, most of whom rarely heard a lengthy jam session they couldn't nod approvingly to. Whatever one's opinion, the quartet's admirable pedigree unquestionably yielded some inspired songwriting, and even memorable improvisational moments within driving opener "Buzzard," the gently whimsical post-psych ballad "Silver Tightrope," and the 11-minute, prog rock smorgasbord of "Basking in the White of the Midnight Sun" (boasting four subtitled movements). Like the LP's sole conventionally sized offering, the Pugh-dominated "Paths and Planes and Future Gains," as well as its bluesiest, loosest jam, "Last Stand Before" (where Relf finally whips out his famous harmonica), these songs all fall significantly short of their obvious objective, Led Zeppelin, but fare quite nicely in comparison to more down-to-earth contemporaries like Budgie, Hawkwind, or the interconnected Captain Beyond. Upon release, Armageddon was met with wildly polarized love/hate critical reviews and actually skimmed the lower reaches of the American charts; but very infrequent live shows and Relf's shocking death by accidental electrocution the following year put an end to the band's hopes. A few half-assed reunions took place in years to come but, thankfully, none proved serious enough to yield any Relf-less Armageddon recordings, thus guaranteeing the enduring cult status of this far from perfect, but intriguing and understandably one-of-a-kind LP.
Cynics who perceive many super-groups as nothing more than bloated extrapolations of, at times, perfectly mundane musical components, can back up their assumptions with Armageddon's eponymous debut from 1975. The first and final spawn of the would-be-super-group featuring former Yardbird vocalist Keith Relf, erstwhile Captain Beyond drummer Bobby Caldwell, ex-Steamhammer guitarist Martin Pugh, and Relf's Renaissance partner, bassist Louis Cennamo, the album contains a meager five tracks -- four of which extend beyond the eight-minute barrier due to bouts of arguably unnecessary, self-indulgent waffling. On the other hand, this was the '70s, people, and of course this sort of excess was par for the course, back then. What's more, these same dubious qualities actually contributed to the album's eventual adoption as a precursor to the stoner rock movement by dope fiends everywhere, most of whom rarely heard a lengthy jam session they couldn't nod approvingly to. Whatever one's opinion, the quartet's admirable pedigree unquestionably yielded some inspired songwriting, and even memorable improvisational moments within driving opener "Buzzard," the gently whimsical post-psych ballad "Silver Tightrope," and the 11-minute, prog rock smorgasbord of "Basking in the White of the Midnight Sun" (boasting four subtitled movements). Like the LP's sole conventionally sized offering, the Pugh-dominated "Paths and Planes and Future Gains," as well as its bluesiest, loosest jam, "Last Stand Before" (where Relf finally whips out his famous harmonica), these songs all fall significantly short of their obvious objective, Led Zeppelin, but fare quite nicely in comparison to more down-to-earth contemporaries like Budgie, Hawkwind, or the interconnected Captain Beyond. Upon release, Armageddon was met with wildly polarized love/hate critical reviews and actually skimmed the lower reaches of the American charts; but very infrequent live shows and Relf's shocking death by accidental electrocution the following year put an end to the band's hopes. A few half-assed reunions took place in years to come but, thankfully, none proved serious enough to yield any Relf-less Armageddon recordings, thus guaranteeing the enduring cult status of this far from perfect, but intriguing and understandably one-of-a-kind LP.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:55 (thirteen years ago)
that album got 4 1/2 out of 5 despite that review btw
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:56 (thirteen years ago)
I can't remember the actual process, maybe someome from AMG can chime in, but I think the rating is not made just by the reviewer.
I already wrote about Lucifer's Friend when campaigning for it, but if anyone wants it re-posted LMK.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 19:57 (thirteen years ago)
hippies should be sent to the trenches more often
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:01 (thirteen years ago)
This guy might agree with you
428. TED NUGENT Cat Scratch Fever (535 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #359 for 1977 http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y1a3vegNen8/S9WEeGhlMsI/AAAAAAAABbY/_Ei8DnXjq1E/s1600/Ted+Nugent+-+Cat+Scratch+Fever+-+Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5vndJ1bTQkvu3HZaJjgomB
Nugent may well have turned into a cartoon, but I prefer cartoon carnivores to cartoon vegetarians. And speaking of cartoons, better the Kiss imitation of today than the Robin Trowers of yesteryear--Ted is no more sexist than Kiss, and he sings better. Ten fast, simple, stupid rock and roll songs for guitar and shout, six or seven of which would keep anyone under thirty-five awake for four or five minutes on the interstate, and from here things can only go downhill. B -- R. ChristgauCat Scratch had its share of mean rock on it, including the title track (one of the biggest radio hits about VD ever penned), "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang," "Sweet Sally," and "Out Of Control," all the above rocking within a headspace not unlike rousing bouts of ZZ Top. 7/8 -- M. Popoff
Cat Scratch had its share of mean rock on it, including the title track (one of the biggest radio hits about VD ever penned), "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang," "Sweet Sally," and "Out Of Control," all the above rocking within a headspace not unlike rousing bouts of ZZ Top. 7/8 -- M. Popoff
eview[-] by Greg PratoDespite becoming one of the rock's biggest concert attractions, Ted Nugent needed that one album and single that would break through in a big way, and the 1977 album and single of the same name, Cat Scratch Fever, did the trick. Cat Scratch Fever matched the focused ferocity of Nugent's excellent 1975 debut (due to singer Derek St. Holmes' re-entry into the band), featuring another first-rate set of brash hard rockers. While the title track is a certified classic anthem (the only solo Nugent single to crack the Top 30), other tracks are just as delightful, such as the oh-so-subtle "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang." Further standouts include such underrated compositions as "Live It Up," "Workin' Hard, Playin' Hard," and "Out of Control," plus the exquisitely melodic instrumental "Home Bound," which the Beastie Boys would sample on their 1992 mega-hit album Check Your Head (the track "The Biz vs. the Nuge"). A Top 20 release, Cat Scratch Fever was the last Nugent release to feature his original solo band (St. Holmes, along with bassist Rob Grange, left for good in 1978). And while he enjoyed further chart success with such titles as Weekend Warriors and Double Live Gonzo, many consider Cat Scratch Fever to be Nugent's finest hour.
Despite becoming one of the rock's biggest concert attractions, Ted Nugent needed that one album and single that would break through in a big way, and the 1977 album and single of the same name, Cat Scratch Fever, did the trick. Cat Scratch Fever matched the focused ferocity of Nugent's excellent 1975 debut (due to singer Derek St. Holmes' re-entry into the band), featuring another first-rate set of brash hard rockers. While the title track is a certified classic anthem (the only solo Nugent single to crack the Top 30), other tracks are just as delightful, such as the oh-so-subtle "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang." Further standouts include such underrated compositions as "Live It Up," "Workin' Hard, Playin' Hard," and "Out of Control," plus the exquisitely melodic instrumental "Home Bound," which the Beastie Boys would sample on their 1992 mega-hit album Check Your Head (the track "The Biz vs. the Nuge"). A Top 20 release, Cat Scratch Fever was the last Nugent release to feature his original solo band (St. Holmes, along with bassist Rob Grange, left for good in 1978). And while he enjoyed further chart success with such titles as Weekend Warriors and Double Live Gonzo, many consider Cat Scratch Fever to be Nugent's finest hour.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:07 (thirteen years ago)
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:08 (thirteen years ago)
Ted says he was never too high
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:09 (thirteen years ago)
Just wish he wasn't such a fuckin' tool. Still like those early albums though.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:10 (thirteen years ago)
most objectionable man in rock? Whatevs that record is a killer
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:10 (thirteen years ago)
oh yeah man cause "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang" is a stone cold classic!!
fuck Nugent.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:11 (thirteen years ago)
not a fan then?
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:12 (thirteen years ago)
not one bit.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:13 (thirteen years ago)
"Stranglehold" > heavy metal
― C: (crüt), Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:14 (thirteen years ago)
Ok I'm listening to Homebound though and its neither offensive musically or lyrically. So I guess I like one Nugent song.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:15 (thirteen years ago)
As far as ZZ Top comparisons go -- they always seem to be pretty humble bros with a good toungue-in-cheek sense of humor. the Nuge is like John McAfee levels of unappealing narcissism.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:17 (thirteen years ago)
nugent is a cunt but that album really is great
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:18 (thirteen years ago)
I really hate the title track though and it comes on the radio all the time.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:19 (thirteen years ago)
ZZ Topp > Nuge, yeah, but Cat Scratch Fever is great
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:20 (thirteen years ago)
427. SLAVE Slave (537 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #293 for 1977 http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/262/MI0002262916.jpg?partner=allrovi.comNo reviews by rolling stone etc funnily enough.. So take it from me, this album is really good so give it a listen!http://open.spotify.com/album/6FD0UvvoVyO4KF0KhqFdM1
reviewby Craig LytleThe debut album from the Ohio-based funk aggregate Slave was a grand success, but resulted in the release of only one single, "Slide." Being the only single released from the album, "Slide" had no problem gaining airplay with its gothic introduction, animated vocals, and rumbling bassline. The funk anthem claimed the number one spot on the Billboard R&B charts inside of 20 weeks. The other cuts on the album continue the aggressive funk assault, but with subtle passion and their own distinctive arrangements. The exception is "Son of Slide," which is identical to the album's big hit, except that it's an instrumental save a brief chorus chant. The only ballad is "The Happiest Days," a sweet soul song arranged in the vein of the Ohio Players with its horns, lead and backing vocals.
The debut album from the Ohio-based funk aggregate Slave was a grand success, but resulted in the release of only one single, "Slide." Being the only single released from the album, "Slide" had no problem gaining airplay with its gothic introduction, animated vocals, and rumbling bassline. The funk anthem claimed the number one spot on the Billboard R&B charts inside of 20 weeks. The other cuts on the album continue the aggressive funk assault, but with subtle passion and their own distinctive arrangements. The exception is "Son of Slide," which is identical to the album's big hit, except that it's an instrumental save a brief chorus chant. The only ballad is "The Happiest Days," a sweet soul song arranged in the vein of the Ohio Players with its horns, lead and backing vocals.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:24 (thirteen years ago)
That poor tiny man has to carry ball bearings around all day, even though they easily roll!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:27 (thirteen years ago)
being greased up can't help either
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:30 (thirteen years ago)
Poor little guy can't even straighten his legs without hitting the word "slave" someone attached to the ceiling.
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:34 (thirteen years ago)
im playing the song Slide in plug.dj/ilxors right now
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:34 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, in seriousness it's pretty kickin'. Plenty of vibraslap, if that's your thing.
― Tom Violence, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:35 (thirteen years ago)
and a great guitar solo
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:36 (thirteen years ago)
I forget who the guitarist is but hes great. Plays like Ernie Isley, one of the great guitarists.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:37 (thirteen years ago)
seriously give your ears a treat. great guitar solo then an extended outrohttp://youtu.be/y1tKTjRgJuE
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:40 (thirteen years ago)
426. RANDY HOLDEN Population II (538 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #116 for 1970 , #3483 overall http://www.recordsale.de/cdpix/r/randy_holden-population_ii.jpg
Finds the Blue Cheer and Other Half guitarist turning in a rudimentary, howling, jammy, guitary psych collection...lurches forward int o something approaching the riff-mindedness of mountain, and it is quite (accidentally?) doomy. 7/6 -- M. PopoffIf you dig: Hard Rock, Heavy Jams, Acid Rock. Population II was recorded in an Opera house when Holden connected 20 Sunn amps in line (!) in order to create the desired sound. The album is a direct continuation to side 2 he wrote for Blue Cheer's third album...the monumental thunder created by the dual guitars and Lockheed's drums really reveals who invented Heavy Metal. The sound in those tracks can only be comparable to a herd of Mammoths going through your living room...a considerable achievement for an album recorded in 1969. Loved it? Try: Bent Wind, Pentagram, Road. -- R. Chelled
If you dig: Hard Rock, Heavy Jams, Acid Rock. Population II was recorded in an Opera house when Holden connected 20 Sunn amps in line (!) in order to create the desired sound. The album is a direct continuation to side 2 he wrote for Blue Cheer's third album...the monumental thunder created by the dual guitars and Lockheed's drums really reveals who invented Heavy Metal. The sound in those tracks can only be comparable to a herd of Mammoths going through your living room...a considerable achievement for an album recorded in 1969. Loved it? Try: Bent Wind, Pentagram, Road. -- R. Chelled
reviewby Richie UnterbergerHolden's first solo album (he would not release any more music for about 25 years) was a strange bridge between psychedelia and heavy metal. At times these lurching, extended songs sound like sub-Jimi Hendrix noodling. But at the same time they sound genuinely more sinister and feverish than the by-the-numbers heavy metal soloing that would become so popular starting in the early 1970s. The slow, sometimes dirge-like tempos were a result of an adventurous two-man band situation in which Holden's only accompanist was Chris Lockheed, who played drums and keyboards simultaneously and couldn't be expected to effectively keep rapid rhythms. Holden is much more of a guitar player than a singer/songwriter, but these do have some smoking sustain passages, sometimes with a stratosphere-like wobbly bite, as on "Fruits and Icebergs." According to Holden the album was never officially released, but somehow the tapes or pressings must have reached collectors, as it's been bootlegged more than once.
Holden's first solo album (he would not release any more music for about 25 years) was a strange bridge between psychedelia and heavy metal. At times these lurching, extended songs sound like sub-Jimi Hendrix noodling. But at the same time they sound genuinely more sinister and feverish than the by-the-numbers heavy metal soloing that would become so popular starting in the early 1970s. The slow, sometimes dirge-like tempos were a result of an adventurous two-man band situation in which Holden's only accompanist was Chris Lockheed, who played drums and keyboards simultaneously and couldn't be expected to effectively keep rapid rhythms. Holden is much more of a guitar player than a singer/songwriter, but these do have some smoking sustain passages, sometimes with a stratosphere-like wobbly bite, as on "Fruits and Icebergs." According to Holden the album was never officially released, but somehow the tapes or pressings must have reached collectors, as it's been bootlegged more than once.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
425. CHEAP TRICK Cheap Trick (540 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #53 for 1977 , #2418 overall | Acclaimed: #2957http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/714/MI0001714118.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4SuTOyB3SELv2d0nx6msp5
Drawing its primary inspiration from the unexpected Anglo poles of the Move (weight and wit) and Beatles (melody and merriment), Cheap Trick came on hard, loud and smart, investing pure pop with thunder and playing gigs that, while formulaic and gimmicky in the extreme, had (and, in the 21st century, still have) all the punch and spirited good humor that older, tired arena bands lacked. The black-and-white Cheap Trick is an absolute stunner, immediately recognizable in the onslaught of Tom Petersson's treble-ripping bass, Nielsen's incisive guitar theatrics, Robin Zander's nuclear assault voice and Bun E. Carlos' Watts-like simple and steady drumming. Well-honed songs sizzle and explode under Jack Douglas' all-electric production. Ultimately, though, it's the depth of warped personality that comes through the songs that makes this album so potent. "Taxman" turns the George Harrison gripe upside down with a twist; "He's a Whore" rocks with a ragingly melodic chorus; "The Ballad of TV Violence (I'm Not the Only Boy)" displays a healthy nasty streak in portraying Chicago mass murderer Richard Speck (albeit in the vaguest terms); the tautly tuneful "Oh Candy" laments a friend's (true story) suicide in the band's typically oblique fashion. Terry Reid's "Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace" is indistinguishable from the Nielsen/Petersson originals, which is a credit to both their writing and playing. Rock doesn't get any better than this. (But don't put too much faith in the fabricated biography of the liner notes by future superstar novelist Eric Van Lustbader.) The CD edition that came out in 1998 adds five contemporaneous outtakes, all well worth hearing, including a brisk, rocking rendition of "I Want You to Want Me," a song ultimately left off the album -- Trouser PressI like their looks--two pretty-boys balanced off by two ugly-guys--and have no objection to their sound, which recalls the Aerosmith of Rocks. Nor am I shocked that they're not as powerful as the Aerosmith of Rocks, Jack Douglas or no Jack Douglas. But given their harmony singing you think they'd try and be more melodic. Sign of smarts: the way the phrase "any time at all" hooks "He's a Whore." B -- R. Christgau
I like their looks--two pretty-boys balanced off by two ugly-guys--and have no objection to their sound, which recalls the Aerosmith of Rocks. Nor am I shocked that they're not as powerful as the Aerosmith of Rocks, Jack Douglas or no Jack Douglas. But given their harmony singing you think they'd try and be more melodic. Sign of smarts: the way the phrase "any time at all" hooks "He's a Whore." B -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineCheap Trick's eponymous debut is an explosive fusion of Beatlesque melodic hooks, Who-styled power, and a twisted sense of humor partially borrowed from the Move. But that only begins to scratch the surface of what makes Cheap Trick a dynamic record. Guitarist Rick Nielsen has a powerful sense of dynamics and arrangements, which gives the music an extra kick, but he also can write exceptionally melodic and subversive songs. Nothing on Cheap Trick is quite what it seems. While the songs have hooks and attitude that arena rock was sorely lacking in the late '70s, they are also informed by a bizarre sensibility, whether it's the driving "He's a Whore," the dreamy "Mandocello," or the thumping Gary Glitter perversion "ELO Kiddies." "The Ballad of TV Violence" is about mass murder, while "Daddy Should Have Stayed in High School" concerns pedophiles. All of it is told with a sense of humor, but it doesn't come off as cheap or smirking because of the group's hard-rocking drive and Robin Zander's pop-idol vocals. Even "Oh, Candy," apparently a love song on first listen, is an affecting tribute to a friend who committed suicide. In short, Cheap Trick revel in taboo subjects with abandon, devoting themselves to the power of the hook, as well as sheer volume and gut-wrenching rock & roll -- though the record is more musically accomplished than punk rock, it shares the same aesthetic. The combination of off-kilter humor, bizarre subjects, and blissful power pop made Cheap Trick one of the defining albums of its era, as well as one of the most influential.
Cheap Trick's eponymous debut is an explosive fusion of Beatlesque melodic hooks, Who-styled power, and a twisted sense of humor partially borrowed from the Move. But that only begins to scratch the surface of what makes Cheap Trick a dynamic record. Guitarist Rick Nielsen has a powerful sense of dynamics and arrangements, which gives the music an extra kick, but he also can write exceptionally melodic and subversive songs. Nothing on Cheap Trick is quite what it seems. While the songs have hooks and attitude that arena rock was sorely lacking in the late '70s, they are also informed by a bizarre sensibility, whether it's the driving "He's a Whore," the dreamy "Mandocello," or the thumping Gary Glitter perversion "ELO Kiddies." "The Ballad of TV Violence" is about mass murder, while "Daddy Should Have Stayed in High School" concerns pedophiles. All of it is told with a sense of humor, but it doesn't come off as cheap or smirking because of the group's hard-rocking drive and Robin Zander's pop-idol vocals. Even "Oh, Candy," apparently a love song on first listen, is an affecting tribute to a friend who committed suicide. In short, Cheap Trick revel in taboo subjects with abandon, devoting themselves to the power of the hook, as well as sheer volume and gut-wrenching rock & roll -- though the record is more musically accomplished than punk rock, it shares the same aesthetic. The combination of off-kilter humor, bizarre subjects, and blissful power pop made Cheap Trick one of the defining albums of its era, as well as one of the most influential.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:00 (thirteen years ago)
Yaaay! This album is so good!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:02 (thirteen years ago)
Good stuff. Makes me want to go back and re-listen to the second half of Blue Cheer's New Improved again, as Holden is brilliant on it.
Yay Cheap Trick! They were my first big live rock show when I was 9 at an outdoor fest. My favorite was "He's A Whore" ha ha. I object, Bun E. isn't ugly!
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:03 (thirteen years ago)
"ELO Kiddies" is a song written by Rick Nielsen and originally released by Cheap Trick on the 1977 album Cheap Trick. It was released as a single twice, in 1977 as an A-side backed by "Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace" and in 1979, as the B-side the live "Ain't That a Shame" from Cheap Trick at Budokan. Allmusic critic Stephen Thomas Erlewine commented on the song's "thumping Gary Glitter perversion."[1] Charles Young of Rolling Stone Magazine regarded both "ELO Kiddies" and "Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace" among the standout songs of the Cheap Trick album.[2]It is a powerful song, driven by Bun E. Carlos' pounding the drums, Nielsen playing power chords on the guitar.[3] The sardonic lyrics include several double entendres and the song has been interpreted in multiple ways, even by members of the band.[3] The most basic meaning is as a "hello, goodbye" story.[3] Nielsen viewed the song as being about the "real maniacs from nuclear power plants."[3] Another interpretation is that the song expresses a "cynical view of education."[3] Cheap Trick drummer Bun E. Carlos, who considers this song one of his favorites, interpreted the song as telling kids to "go out and have fun and go nuts and go completely wild," but that even deeper is that the kids need to do this fast before they get older and have ulcers and headaches.[3] Basically, Carlos sums up his view of the song's message as "let's have fun, but better have it now."[3] Even the song's title is a play on words, since the "Elo" could simply mean "hello," or it could be "ELO," implying the song borrows ideas from the Electric Light Orchestra.[3] Author Steve Taylor has noted that the song is "vaguely autobiographical" and that it recognizes the band's admiration of Electric Light Orchestra founder Roy Wood.[4]
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:04 (thirteen years ago)
Cheap Trick as good conceptually as Sparks or Roxy IMO. Great schtick which they schtuck to.
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:07 (thirteen years ago)
One of the best debuts in music. One of the greatest albums ever. And their live stuff from around that time is insane, like Takayanagi guesting with the Move.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:10 (thirteen years ago)
424. THE JAM In the City (540 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #210 for 1977 | Acclaimed: #889http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/568/MI0001568122.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5DD8e6UAxYd8f1f7j94hWp
Here we find an English hard-rock trio who wear short hair and dark suits, say "fuck" a lot, and sound rather like The Who Sing My Generation, even mentioning James Brown in one song. They also claim a positive social attitude--no police state in the U.K., but no anarchy either. Is this some kind of put-up job, pseudo-punk with respect for the verities? Could be, but it doesn't matter. When they complain that Uncle Jimmy the "red balloon" (or is it "reveloo"?) never walks home at night, they've got his number, but when they accuse him of sleeping between silk sheets they're just blowing someone else's hot air. In the end, they could go either way--or both. In the meantime, though, they blow me out. These boys can put a song together; they're both powerful enough to subsume their sources and fresh enough to keep me coming back for more. A- -- R. Christgau
reviewby Chris WoodstraOn their debut, the Jam offered a good balance between the forward-looking, "destroy everything" aggression of punk with a certain reverence for '60s beat and R&B. In an era that preached attitude over musicianship, the Jam bettered the competition with good pop sense, strong melodies, and plenty of hooks that compromised none of punk's ideals or energy, plus youth culture themes and an abrasive, ferocious attack. Even though the band would improve exponentially over the next couple of years, In the City is a remarkable debut and stands as one of the landmark punk albums.
On their debut, the Jam offered a good balance between the forward-looking, "destroy everything" aggression of punk with a certain reverence for '60s beat and R&B. In an era that preached attitude over musicianship, the Jam bettered the competition with good pop sense, strong melodies, and plenty of hooks that compromised none of punk's ideals or energy, plus youth culture themes and an abrasive, ferocious attack. Even though the band would improve exponentially over the next couple of years, In the City is a remarkable debut and stands as one of the landmark punk albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:13 (thirteen years ago)
The Rickenbacker opening to "Art School" is my all-time favorite guitar sound.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:14 (thirteen years ago)
Xgau baffled by Britishers
― Neil S, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:17 (thirteen years ago)
423. BE BOP DELUXE Futurama (542 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #265 for 1975http://www.freecodesource.com/album-cover/51mUd0UDqKL/Be-Bop-Deluxe-Futurama.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2zv3GPTzPTjyGyQRjjRNsR
reviewby Bruce EderThe original version of Futurama was a little weak on songwriting content, though long on virtuoso music passages. This expanded reissue is a partial improvement, though not because it addresses those problems; rather, it's just got more of something different, in this case the more commercial (and quite beautiful) single version of "Between the Worlds," plus a scintillating live version of "Maid in Heaven," and the achingly lyrical "Speed of the Wind" -- the latter shows off the more reflective side of this band and progressive rock in general, of a piece with King Crimson's "Book of Saturday," and emphasizing their gentler approach to singing and playing. The sound throughout is excellent, and the annotation is reasonably thorough as well.
The original version of Futurama was a little weak on songwriting content, though long on virtuoso music passages. This expanded reissue is a partial improvement, though not because it addresses those problems; rather, it's just got more of something different, in this case the more commercial (and quite beautiful) single version of "Between the Worlds," plus a scintillating live version of "Maid in Heaven," and the achingly lyrical "Speed of the Wind" -- the latter shows off the more reflective side of this band and progressive rock in general, of a piece with King Crimson's "Book of Saturday," and emphasizing their gentler approach to singing and playing. The sound throughout is excellent, and the annotation is reasonably thorough as well.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:19 (thirteen years ago)
Non Stop Dancin' and I Got By In Time were two of the best things the jam ever did
― Dr X O'Skeleton, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:21 (thirteen years ago)
Guess I forgot this:
Black mohair suits, smart white shirts, skinny ties, stylish razor-cut hair, Rickenbacker guitars — on In the City the Jam were the new mods, emerging from a sea of spiky-haired leather-and-chain-clad punks. They may have looked different, but their energy level gave no ground, as Weller's jagged, choppy double-tracked guitar led the attack over Bruce Foxton's busy, melodic bass lines and Rick Buckler's stiff-backed drumming. The songs themselves are as taut and well manicured as the group, but match the explosiveness and attitude of the punks easily enough to establish an indisputable kinship to bands like the Sex Pistols and Clash. (It was no surprise when the Pistols swiped the riff for "Holidays in the Sun" from Weller's "In the City.")If the songs and playing of In the City are derivative — especially of The Who Sings My Generation and '60s Motown — there's no arguing that the Jam was speaking to a generation for whom it was all new. Also, the main points — youth regaining pop culture from the grasp of conservative people with old- fashioned ideas, the individual vs. the crowd — were well taken by the group's growing British following. -- Trouser Press
If the songs and playing of In the City are derivative — especially of The Who Sings My Generation and '60s Motown — there's no arguing that the Jam was speaking to a generation for whom it was all new. Also, the main points — youth regaining pop culture from the grasp of conservative people with old- fashioned ideas, the individual vs. the crowd — were well taken by the group's growing British following. -- Trouser Press
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:21 (thirteen years ago)
422. Speed, Glue & Shinki - S/T (544 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #645 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/906/MI0002906648.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/66Y3hEmOGvKsueRyyhx02e
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaLike their music, the personal and creative relationships of Japanese rock & roll deviants Speed, Glue & Shinki were in a state of total disarray during the recording of their eponymous double-vinyl sophomore album in 1972. The ostensible bandleader, guitarist Shinki Chen, was already partially distracted from the proceedings, and original bassist Masayoshi "Glue" Kabe had completely checked out to resume his hobo-like travels, which left preternaturally wired vocalist and drummer Joey "Speed" Smith to jump into the driver's seat and accelerate the band's psychedelic rock school bus right over the cliff of reason. Replacement bassist Mike Hanopol was a handpicked ex-accomplice of Joey who assisted him in composing the majority of the album's songs, and these were a vast catalog of typically loose, ultra-distorted, proto-metallic acid blues grinds like "Run and Hide," "Calm Down," "Wanna Take You Home," and a wastoid anthem for the ages in "Sniffin' & Snortin', Pt. 1" and "Pt. 2" (which came complete with appropriate sound effects). The cumulative emotional effect of all this gloriously demented garage rock drudgery (think the MC5 meets Grand Funk meets Black Sabbath meets the 13th Floor Elevators) was so disconcerting that when a flute suddenly flutters into view midway through "Don't Say No" (one of Shinki's few songwriting contributions), listeners may find themselves instinctively swatting at it in panic, shrieking like uniformed Japanese schoolgirls. In all fairness, Shinki's Hendrix-worthy talents did shine through on numerous occasions, even reaching religious fervor all over the epic "Search for Love" and in the backwards solo of the aforementioned "Wanna Take You Home," while Hanopol tunes like "Bad Woman" and "Red Doll" revealed his passion for American power trio Mountain. But there was no mistaking Joey Smith's dominant role throughout the LP, whether that meant croaking like Louis Armstrong across "Flat Fret Swing" or jamming together a 13-minute ambient sound experiment on Moog synthesizer entitled "Sun/Planets/Life/Moon," which, along with the slightly less free-form "Song for an Angel," took up all of the fourth vinyl side. Aaaand exhale…COUGH-COUGH-COUGH! As if you hadn't guessed already, and in spite (heck, perhaps because) of the all-consuming chaos, what Speed, Glue & Shinki conjured here was a bona fide proto-stoner rock landmark. It may not have translated into record sales, and the band's messy collapse soon after its release no doubt left a bitter taste in everyone's mouths (particularly their free-spending, un-recouped label backers), but at least the short-lived trio's unique cult legacy was now signed, sealed, and delivered for posterity.
Like their music, the personal and creative relationships of Japanese rock & roll deviants Speed, Glue & Shinki were in a state of total disarray during the recording of their eponymous double-vinyl sophomore album in 1972. The ostensible bandleader, guitarist Shinki Chen, was already partially distracted from the proceedings, and original bassist Masayoshi "Glue" Kabe had completely checked out to resume his hobo-like travels, which left preternaturally wired vocalist and drummer Joey "Speed" Smith to jump into the driver's seat and accelerate the band's psychedelic rock school bus right over the cliff of reason. Replacement bassist Mike Hanopol was a handpicked ex-accomplice of Joey who assisted him in composing the majority of the album's songs, and these were a vast catalog of typically loose, ultra-distorted, proto-metallic acid blues grinds like "Run and Hide," "Calm Down," "Wanna Take You Home," and a wastoid anthem for the ages in "Sniffin' & Snortin', Pt. 1" and "Pt. 2" (which came complete with appropriate sound effects). The cumulative emotional effect of all this gloriously demented garage rock drudgery (think the MC5 meets Grand Funk meets Black Sabbath meets the 13th Floor Elevators) was so disconcerting that when a flute suddenly flutters into view midway through "Don't Say No" (one of Shinki's few songwriting contributions), listeners may find themselves instinctively swatting at it in panic, shrieking like uniformed Japanese schoolgirls. In all fairness, Shinki's Hendrix-worthy talents did shine through on numerous occasions, even reaching religious fervor all over the epic "Search for Love" and in the backwards solo of the aforementioned "Wanna Take You Home," while Hanopol tunes like "Bad Woman" and "Red Doll" revealed his passion for American power trio Mountain. But there was no mistaking Joey Smith's dominant role throughout the LP, whether that meant croaking like Louis Armstrong across "Flat Fret Swing" or jamming together a 13-minute ambient sound experiment on Moog synthesizer entitled "Sun/Planets/Life/Moon," which, along with the slightly less free-form "Song for an Angel," took up all of the fourth vinyl side. Aaaand exhale…COUGH-COUGH-COUGH! As if you hadn't guessed already, and in spite (heck, perhaps because) of the all-consuming chaos, what Speed, Glue & Shinki conjured here was a bona fide proto-stoner rock landmark. It may not have translated into record sales, and the band's messy collapse soon after its release no doubt left a bitter taste in everyone's mouths (particularly their free-spending, un-recouped label backers), but at least the short-lived trio's unique cult legacy was now signed, sealed, and delivered for posterity.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:31 (thirteen years ago)
Yay Slave and Randy Holden!
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:33 (thirteen years ago)
Thought Cheap Trick would be so much higher, maybe even top fifty.
Good to see Brass Construction and Slave place, I think I voted for both. I prefer a few of the later Slave albums but that one is solid.
Surprised to see that Japan album has a few supporters. I like the odd track from that era but don't really rate their glam sound that much, they became an amazing band on Quiet Life.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:37 (thirteen years ago)
That's the first one I heard, couldn't get into it. Eve is way better!
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:37 (thirteen years ago)
I'd say the Slave album is their second best
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:39 (thirteen years ago)
I did it again, lol
Those European heavy bands were all trying to show they were as good as Cream, but Speed, Glue & Shinki were literally off their fucking heads. I think there's a real uniqueness to them that climbing, disgusting crab-like bass which is undermining everything the blues should do. I think there's gonna be a new generation over here that once they get down with Speed, Glue & Shinki, are gonna be creating some of the most fantastic, un-blues blues you'll ever hear. It's similar to first-album Blue Cheer. The trouble with experimental music is that people who do it don't want to fail. When we did Drain'd Boner, the last Brain Donor album, in many ways it failed because it was so experimental. That's what was so powerful about this band: their wantonness, their greed for the shock and novelty of what they were doing. For me, the best rock'n'roll always has the right combination of novelty and tradition. Because Joey Smith was the singer as well as the drummer, he had control of the rhythm and was literally making his point with the snare and bass drums. He'd be bringing it down until you'd just think: 'What the fuck is than' -- J. Cope, Classic Rock
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:41 (thirteen years ago)
I voted for at least one Be Bop Deluxe album, but I enjoy all of them. Love that weird mix of glam and prog.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:43 (thirteen years ago)
xpost I'm a big fan of The Hardness of the World and Stone Jam, The Concept might even be a better album too. I got that box set of the first five Slave albums a few years back.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:44 (thirteen years ago)
421. AC/DC Jailbreak '74 (559 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #17 for 1984 , #428 overallhttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8vDgLPRWjBY/TqrHinf3WFI/AAAAAAAABfA/meKMW53dPLM/s1600/74+Jailbreak+1984.jpg
review[-] by Greg PratoDespite longtime AC/DC fans' immediate acceptance of replacement singer Brian Johnson (resulting in one of rock's all-time best sellers, 1980's Back in Black), there was still demand for Bon Scott-era unreleased tracks. Several of their early albums in Australia and Europe (such as T.N.T.) were later combined together for their first U.S. release, High Voltage, while several tracks were cut from the original versions and never issued stateside. 1984's five-song EP, '74 Jailbreak, features these forgotten tracks from the band's early days. "Jailbreak" automatically became a concert standard when the EP came out, and it remains a mystery why it wasn't released earlier. Also included is the largely instrumental "Soul Stripper," a cover of "Baby Please Don't Go," plus a pair of Angus Young-Malcolm Young-Scott originals: "You Ain't Got a Hold on Me" and the autobiographical "Show Business." Although '74 Jailbreak is by no means a definitive collection of early rarities (such compositions as "Fling Thing," "Love Song," "Stick Around," "R.I.P.- Rock in Peace," and "School Days" remain unreleased in the States), it is a worthwhile, brief snapshot of early AC/DC.
Despite longtime AC/DC fans' immediate acceptance of replacement singer Brian Johnson (resulting in one of rock's all-time best sellers, 1980's Back in Black), there was still demand for Bon Scott-era unreleased tracks. Several of their early albums in Australia and Europe (such as T.N.T.) were later combined together for their first U.S. release, High Voltage, while several tracks were cut from the original versions and never issued stateside. 1984's five-song EP, '74 Jailbreak, features these forgotten tracks from the band's early days. "Jailbreak" automatically became a concert standard when the EP came out, and it remains a mystery why it wasn't released earlier. Also included is the largely instrumental "Soul Stripper," a cover of "Baby Please Don't Go," plus a pair of Angus Young-Malcolm Young-Scott originals: "You Ain't Got a Hold on Me" and the autobiographical "Show Business." Although '74 Jailbreak is by no means a definitive collection of early rarities (such compositions as "Fling Thing," "Love Song," "Stick Around," "R.I.P.- Rock in Peace," and "School Days" remain unreleased in the States), it is a worthwhile, brief snapshot of early AC/DC.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:45 (thirteen years ago)
I'm a bit late with this but just want to mention how incredible that Curtis Mayfield album is that placed. Curtis will always be his masterpiece but There's no Place Like America Today is a close second. I know he has a lot of fans on here but for anyone that only knows Curtis and Superfly, that album is well worth checking out.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:55 (thirteen years ago)
I agree. Did you see the pishy Christgau review?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 21:56 (thirteen years ago)
The Concept is my fave Slave album.
Yeah "So In Love" and "Billy Jack" are awesome. Xgau really comes off as a douche on that review!
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:00 (thirteen years ago)
420. KOOL AND THE GANG Wild & Peaceful (559 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #188 for 1973http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRxfvH6kBOI/TL3rcUf9wjI/AAAAAAAAAHo/pycasbJJwRI/s1600/Kool++The+The+Gang+-+Wild+And+Peaceful-Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3826fPFgIEBt3yXineniDV
reviewby Andrew HamiltonPrior to James "JT" Taylor adding pop flavor vocals, which help garner a handful of top selling albums, this was Kool & the Gang's most successful album, spawning three bonafide R&B hits. Produced by Robert Bell, and featuring Donal Boyce's incredulous vocals, these songs have held up well. The fast, chugging "Jungle Boogie" was a club favorite, while "Funky Stuff," with its "whoa whoa whoa" hook, was slower and spacier than "Jungle Boogie." The band formerly known as the Jazziacs got their first R&B number one with "Hollywood Swinging," a slightly faster than mid-tempo song with whistles, festive ambiance and lead vocals by keyboardist Ricky West. All three hits were inspired by Manu Dibango's "Soul Makossa," and were recorded in one night at a studio in midtown Manhattan. The title cut flash backs to their prerecording jazz days, when they dazzled New Jerseyites with their playing skills.
Prior to James "JT" Taylor adding pop flavor vocals, which help garner a handful of top selling albums, this was Kool & the Gang's most successful album, spawning three bonafide R&B hits. Produced by Robert Bell, and featuring Donal Boyce's incredulous vocals, these songs have held up well. The fast, chugging "Jungle Boogie" was a club favorite, while "Funky Stuff," with its "whoa whoa whoa" hook, was slower and spacier than "Jungle Boogie." The band formerly known as the Jazziacs got their first R&B number one with "Hollywood Swinging," a slightly faster than mid-tempo song with whistles, festive ambiance and lead vocals by keyboardist Ricky West. All three hits were inspired by Manu Dibango's "Soul Makossa," and were recorded in one night at a studio in midtown Manhattan. The title cut flash backs to their prerecording jazz days, when they dazzled New Jerseyites with their playing skills.
This is a fantastic funk album and everyone really should check it out. Its nothing like the shitty disco they made later and I urge you all to check it out.
I think some of you may have guessed by now why I wanted this to be a 500. So some of the best funk albums get noticed
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:01 (thirteen years ago)
No it hadn't notice that, what is he talking about? I think he did plenty of great albums after Superfly like Back to the World, Short Eyes and Sweet Exorcist. He's probably my favourite soul singer of all time.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:01 (thirteen years ago)
Because Xgau hasn't got a clue?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:02 (thirteen years ago)
Really like that Kool & The Gang album, great artwork too. I only have that one and Spirit of the Boogie which is even better. I really should check out some more of their albums at some point.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:03 (thirteen years ago)
Kool & the Gang opened for Van Halen last year. They were great! Mayfield is totally my favorite, I like all his albums to a degree.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:06 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper
Good call on this. A lot of my favourite funk albums were nominated but I'm hoping to discover a few new ones from this list.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:07 (thirteen years ago)
417. YES Relayer (560 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #36 for 1974 , #1208 overallhttp://hwy74.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/yes-relayer-frontal.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6MK9yp7hFeOLeR7F1hsBp6
reviewby William RuhlmannYes had fallen out of critical favor with Tales from Topographic Oceans, a two-record set of four songs that reviewers found indulgent. But they had not fallen out of the Top Ten, and so they had little incentive to curb their musical ambitiousness. Relayer, released 11 months after Tales, was a single-disc, three-song album, its music organized into suites that alternated abrasive, rhythmically dense instrumental sections featuring solos for the various instruments with delicate vocal and choral sections featuring poetic lyrics devoted to spiritual imagery. Such compositions seemed intended to provide an interesting musical landscape over which the listener might travel, and enough Yes fans did that to make Relayer a Top Ten, gold-selling hit, though critics continued to complain about the lack of concise, coherent song structures.
Yes had fallen out of critical favor with Tales from Topographic Oceans, a two-record set of four songs that reviewers found indulgent. But they had not fallen out of the Top Ten, and so they had little incentive to curb their musical ambitiousness. Relayer, released 11 months after Tales, was a single-disc, three-song album, its music organized into suites that alternated abrasive, rhythmically dense instrumental sections featuring solos for the various instruments with delicate vocal and choral sections featuring poetic lyrics devoted to spiritual imagery. Such compositions seemed intended to provide an interesting musical landscape over which the listener might travel, and enough Yes fans did that to make Relayer a Top Ten, gold-selling hit, though critics continued to complain about the lack of concise, coherent song structures.
417. DMZ - s/t (560 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #157 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/801/MI0002801659.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1BLciAqNVEeNeZ9Ufu88S2
One of Boston's primary punk bands, DMZ was led by the maniacal Mono Mann (aka Jeff Conolly, later of the Lyres), an organist/singer whose '60s roots (garage punk and psychedelia) and Iggy Pop fixation formed the basis for the group's influential stylings. Their first album, produced by Flo and Eddie, has bad sound, sloppy playing and little character, despite the raveup playing and general enthusiasm. -- Trouser Press
reviewby John DouganThe infamous debut record. Flo And Eddie's production doesn't help, but DMZ's retrogressive sound did not, at the time, fit the punk model. As a result, they seemed curiously out of place when compared to the other Sire offerings, specifically The Ramones and Richard Hell and the Voidoids. Still, this record explodes from the turntable with the benzedrine grunge of "Mighty Idy" and doesn't let up. Sure, it could've been better, but it's not nearly as bad as has been alleged.
The infamous debut record. Flo And Eddie's production doesn't help, but DMZ's retrogressive sound did not, at the time, fit the punk model. As a result, they seemed curiously out of place when compared to the other Sire offerings, specifically The Ramones and Richard Hell and the Voidoids. Still, this record explodes from the turntable with the benzedrine grunge of "Mighty Idy" and doesn't let up. Sure, it could've been better, but it's not nearly as bad as has been alleged.
417. BUZZCOCKS A Different Kind of Tension (560 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #62 for 1979 , #3282 overallhttp://www.chartstats.com/images/artwork/26949.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3v4JnHV14VstZfGKJ49bi9
A Different Kind of Tension makes tentative maneuvers into the new, as the Buzzcocks attempt to throw off the yoke of pop music. It boasts some of Shelley's finest songs, notably "You Say You Don't Love Me" and "I Believe." With Diggle providing some of the material, the band reaches a zenith of effortless craft, especially on Side Two (subtitled "The thorn beneath the rose"), where Shelley dives into the challenging waters of paranoia, selfconscious despair and harrowing uncertainty, climaxing on the title track. That's followed by "I Believe," a seven-minute summation of reasons to be cheerful continually undercut by a chorus of "There is no love in this world any more." Powerful stuff. (The 2008 and 2010 double-CD reissues both add the singles that appeared later on the Parts One, Two, ThreeEP, four more sides that showed up on Singles Going Steady, two Peel sessions from '78 and '79, a batch of contemporaneous demos, a performance of "Autonomy" at the Lesser Free Trade Hall, and "I Look Alone," the final finished recording by the Shelley/Diggle/Maher/Garvey lineup.) -- Trouser PressI suppose people call them a pop band because they still write about love, but that they say "I can't love you" rather than the usual does make a difference. Not in profundity--one sentiment is as banal as the other--but in a mood that suits a sound as bright and abrasive as new steel wool. Pete Shelley articulates his truisms with insight as well as flair, especially in "You Say You Don't Love Me" and "I Believe." My favorite, though, is Steve Diggle's "You Know You Can't Help It," about sex, which I'm happy to report he likes--although he does observe that "love makes war." Hey, does it? B+ -- R. Christgau
I suppose people call them a pop band because they still write about love, but that they say "I can't love you" rather than the usual does make a difference. Not in profundity--one sentiment is as banal as the other--but in a mood that suits a sound as bright and abrasive as new steel wool. Pete Shelley articulates his truisms with insight as well as flair, especially in "You Say You Don't Love Me" and "I Believe." My favorite, though, is Steve Diggle's "You Know You Can't Help It," about sex, which I'm happy to report he likes--although he does observe that "love makes war." Hey, does it? B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Ned RaggettThe final album of the Buzzcocks' first phase of existence is the most fragmented of the three, with increasingly ambitious songs fighting for time with tracks that sound much like the group's earliest efforts. Said songs are often quite good, like the opening "Paradise" or the great romantic angst of "You Say You Don't Love Me," but one can sense the band working to avoid the trap the Ramones fell into by simply offering up yet more soundalikes. Diggle makes a definite mark on this album, as on the slow crawl then fast thrash "Sitting Round at Home," a highlight of Tension that also features his electronically distorted vocals. "Mad Mad Judy" is a slightly more straightforward blitz, but with energy to spare and a spacious feel (credit again to producer Rushent). As the album closes, the sense of slight schizophrenia resolves itself as the group embraces all-out experimentation, producing some of the Buzzcocks' all-time best songs. "Hollow Inside" shows the band's knack for disguising scalpel-sharp sentiments with seeming simplicity, and the title track's contradictory slogans/demands disturbing robot vocals and nagging beat and melody up the ante even further. "I Believe" concludes things (aside from the fake found-sound snippet "Radio Nine") on the highest possible note. Shelley's slightly bemused recitation of all the things he believes in is suddenly interrupted by the line "There is no love in this world anymore," turned and electronically distorted into an obsessive, anthemic mantra as the band charges along with him up and out. An invigorating blast of, indeed, tension and angst, it alone makes Tension worth investigating.
The final album of the Buzzcocks' first phase of existence is the most fragmented of the three, with increasingly ambitious songs fighting for time with tracks that sound much like the group's earliest efforts. Said songs are often quite good, like the opening "Paradise" or the great romantic angst of "You Say You Don't Love Me," but one can sense the band working to avoid the trap the Ramones fell into by simply offering up yet more soundalikes. Diggle makes a definite mark on this album, as on the slow crawl then fast thrash "Sitting Round at Home," a highlight of Tension that also features his electronically distorted vocals. "Mad Mad Judy" is a slightly more straightforward blitz, but with energy to spare and a spacious feel (credit again to producer Rushent). As the album closes, the sense of slight schizophrenia resolves itself as the group embraces all-out experimentation, producing some of the Buzzcocks' all-time best songs. "Hollow Inside" shows the band's knack for disguising scalpel-sharp sentiments with seeming simplicity, and the title track's contradictory slogans/demands disturbing robot vocals and nagging beat and melody up the ante even further. "I Believe" concludes things (aside from the fake found-sound snippet "Radio Nine") on the highest possible note. Shelley's slightly bemused recitation of all the things he believes in is suddenly interrupted by the line "There is no love in this world anymore," turned and electronically distorted into an obsessive, anthemic mantra as the band charges along with him up and out. An invigorating blast of, indeed, tension and angst, it alone makes Tension worth investigating.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:11 (thirteen years ago)
This my favourite Buzzcocks album by a long way.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:14 (thirteen years ago)
Wow, that's low for Jailbreak '74. I liked that Curtis Mayfield album but only didn't vote for it because I personally didn't find it to be that hard-rocking. Relayer is amazing, of course. "Sound Chaser" probably gets as close as Yes ever got to Zappa territory.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:19 (thirteen years ago)
416. PETER HAMMILL Over (560 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #31 for 1977 , #1026 overallhttp://i1203.photobucket.com/albums/bb391/ElliotGKnapp/Album%20Art/over.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3kvJOGLuuWZnbg4rjnuSzq
reviewby Steven McDonaldOne of the best albums ever made about the end of a relationship and the trauma that results, Over is the harrowing document of the failure of a long-term relationship Peter Hammill had been in. With a brief side-step to examine the loss felt by parents when their children move out ("Autumn"), Hammill exposes feelings of guilt, rage, betrayal, attempts at understanding, and attempts at healing. From the self-recrimination of the furious "Crying Wolf," to the angry lashing out of "Time Heals," through the heart-wrenching sadness of "This Side Of The Looking Glass" (with Hammill turning in a beautiful vocal performance against an orchestral setting), to the extremely tentative healing steps of "Lost And Found" (which includes a middle eighth that concludes "La Rossa" from Van Der Graaf Generator's Still Life, but in a cynical way), the songs avoid compromise and simplicity, making this a sometimes difficult listening experience; the lyrics are often bitterly clever and cutting. Beautifully produced, Over is Peter Hammill at his musical and lyrical best.
One of the best albums ever made about the end of a relationship and the trauma that results, Over is the harrowing document of the failure of a long-term relationship Peter Hammill had been in. With a brief side-step to examine the loss felt by parents when their children move out ("Autumn"), Hammill exposes feelings of guilt, rage, betrayal, attempts at understanding, and attempts at healing. From the self-recrimination of the furious "Crying Wolf," to the angry lashing out of "Time Heals," through the heart-wrenching sadness of "This Side Of The Looking Glass" (with Hammill turning in a beautiful vocal performance against an orchestral setting), to the extremely tentative healing steps of "Lost And Found" (which includes a middle eighth that concludes "La Rossa" from Van Der Graaf Generator's Still Life, but in a cynical way), the songs avoid compromise and simplicity, making this a sometimes difficult listening experience; the lyrics are often bitterly clever and cutting. Beautifully produced, Over is Peter Hammill at his musical and lyrical best.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:21 (thirteen years ago)
That DMZ album really grew on me. I've had it for years but re-listening to it for this poll I really got into it and voted for it. Buzzcocks are one of my all-time faves. The title of their last album is appropriate, the tension between their post-punk experiments and catchy tunes. "Sound Chaser" is amazing, it was cool to hear it mixed with the other songs in the mix via the poll.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:22 (thirteen years ago)
Must have been a trip to actually play that.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:23 (thirteen years ago)
I got into a big Hammill phase for a while but I gotta say I never listen to them anymore. Will have to revisit.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:25 (thirteen years ago)
DMZ are another great underrated band along with The Electric Eels who both absolutely ruled.
― Damo Suzuki's Parrot, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:27 (thirteen years ago)
(Was referring to "Sound Chaser". I love VdGG but never really delved into solo Hammill in any real way.)
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:27 (thirteen years ago)
415. DUST Dust (564 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #185 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/275/MI0002275356.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
The first album belies a hyperactive and slightly psych-tinged version of Mountain, very rhythmic, very Detroit. "Love Me Hard" is '60s thug rock metal chaos personified, while "Stone Woman" also fights with bare fists. 7/7 -- M. PopoffThe cover of their first album depicts three skeletonswhich were photographed in catacombs in Mexico, and without a dbout was ahead of its time in the artistic style of Heavy Metal. Despite the menacing cover art, "Dust" was quite far from the Heavy Metal that characterized the latter end of the Seventies. "Stone Woman" has insane rhythm and a slide guitar which provides a southern tinge while "Chasin' Ladies" resembles Grand Funk Railroad with its catchy riff and loose groove. "Goin' Easy" is a delicate Blues ballad and the 10 minute long "From a Dry Camel" is the only track which truly brings to mind Black Sabbath. Lovied it? Try: Damnation of Adam Blessing, Buffalo, J.D. Blackfoot. -- R. Chelled
The cover of their first album depicts three skeletonswhich were photographed in catacombs in Mexico, and without a dbout was ahead of its time in the artistic style of Heavy Metal. Despite the menacing cover art, "Dust" was quite far from the Heavy Metal that characterized the latter end of the Seventies. "Stone Woman" has insane rhythm and a slide guitar which provides a southern tinge while "Chasin' Ladies" resembles Grand Funk Railroad with its catchy riff and loose groove. "Goin' Easy" is a delicate Blues ballad and the 10 minute long "From a Dry Camel" is the only track which truly brings to mind Black Sabbath. Lovied it? Try: Damnation of Adam Blessing, Buffalo, J.D. Blackfoot. -- R. Chelled
review[-] by Joe ViglioneThe first album from Dust is interesting on many levels. The rhythm section featured drummer Marc Bell, who would later join New York punk rockers Richard Hell & the Voidoids, while bassist Kenny Aaronson would sign on with labelmate Stories on the group's third album, as Ian Lloyd moved from bass/vocals to complete frontman. The songwriting team of producer Kenny Kerner and singer/guitarist Richie Wise would go on to produce the third Stories album, making this Dust debut and its follow-up an important piece of the Stories puzzle. Wise's lead vocals on Dust were decent enough to complement his very competent guitar playing; Wise would eventually get hired as A&R man at Scotti Brothers Records. This record is not only the document of a record executive/producer as recording artist, but of musicians who would go on to do more substantial work in the industry. "Stone Woman," with its shimmering slide guitar work from Aaronson, would've fit perfectly on a Leslie West record. What Dust was all about is kind of difficult to get a handle on. A hard rock band for sure, and certainly spirited; the listener has to wonder if the group is successful when progressive, or if things might be better served by staying on the straight and narrow. "Chasin' Ladies" sports a real cool riff and pretty eerie vocal by Wise, while the one song contributed by Aaronson, "Loose Goose," becomes an endless jam. Wise emulates Greg Lake of ELP and, despite the good try, had Dust kept to the poppy influences all these musicians had in them, the group might have had a better chance at success. Kama Sutra, after all, had the Lovin' Spoonful and Sopwith Camel, artists who charted with pop music on the Top 40. For their image, Dust used a photo from the catacombs on the front cover and a camel in the desert on the back. It's an amalgam of hard rock and progressive sounds from co-producer Kerner, who would go on to produce hits for Gladys Knight and edit The Music Connection magazine. Interesting stuff worth hearing at least once.
The first album from Dust is interesting on many levels. The rhythm section featured drummer Marc Bell, who would later join New York punk rockers Richard Hell & the Voidoids, while bassist Kenny Aaronson would sign on with labelmate Stories on the group's third album, as Ian Lloyd moved from bass/vocals to complete frontman. The songwriting team of producer Kenny Kerner and singer/guitarist Richie Wise would go on to produce the third Stories album, making this Dust debut and its follow-up an important piece of the Stories puzzle. Wise's lead vocals on Dust were decent enough to complement his very competent guitar playing; Wise would eventually get hired as A&R man at Scotti Brothers Records. This record is not only the document of a record executive/producer as recording artist, but of musicians who would go on to do more substantial work in the industry. "Stone Woman," with its shimmering slide guitar work from Aaronson, would've fit perfectly on a Leslie West record. What Dust was all about is kind of difficult to get a handle on. A hard rock band for sure, and certainly spirited; the listener has to wonder if the group is successful when progressive, or if things might be better served by staying on the straight and narrow. "Chasin' Ladies" sports a real cool riff and pretty eerie vocal by Wise, while the one song contributed by Aaronson, "Loose Goose," becomes an endless jam. Wise emulates Greg Lake of ELP and, despite the good try, had Dust kept to the poppy influences all these musicians had in them, the group might have had a better chance at success. Kama Sutra, after all, had the Lovin' Spoonful and Sopwith Camel, artists who charted with pop music on the Top 40. For their image, Dust used a photo from the catacombs on the front cover and a camel in the desert on the back. It's an amalgam of hard rock and progressive sounds from co-producer Kerner, who would go on to produce hits for Gladys Knight and edit The Music Connection magazine. Interesting stuff worth hearing at least once.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:29 (thirteen years ago)
DMZ is awesome, reviewers are nuts. was disappointed "destroyer" didn't place in tracks.
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:31 (thirteen years ago)
3 great underrated bands from the 70's = Crime, The Electric Eels and DMZ.
― Damo Suzuki's Parrot, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:32 (thirteen years ago)
414. UFO Lights Out (565 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #43 for 1977 , #1750 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/024/MI0002024695.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5T6UwBJTdOur4w9aoYCyub
Often considered UFO's most magical release, in effect, the record where the band becomes itself, Lights Out ironically soars and dives through the most diverse number of postures of any single UFO project, evoking a resultant opacity through puzzling independence and elusive identity.. Superficially, this is one of the more melodic of UFO rounders, still surprisingly guitar-based, but only truly metallic on "Lights Out"and the ponderous "Electric Phase." 6/9 - M. Popoff
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:36 (thirteen years ago)
review[-] by Matt KantorDespite a few generic moments, Lights Out is probably the best studio document of what elevated UFO above the '70s hard rock fray. Within a Euro-blues framework, the classic lineup that lasted from Phenomenon through Strangers in the Night incorporated challenging dynamics, epic balladry, and a more than occasional sensitivity. On Lights Out, all three of these traits come together in powerful fashion, most notably on the space rocker-cum-ballad "Love to Love," where a ridiculously heavy intro gives way to flourishing poetics. "Gettin' Ready" and an oddball Love cover, "Alone Again Or," also showcase the band's sensitive ambiguities, never compromising the group's overarching hard edge. Not enough can be said either about UFO's stand-out individual performances, particularly Phil Mogg's street level vocals, which no doubt greatly influenced Joe Elliot and Paul Di'Anno. Then, of course, there's the matter of Michael Schenker's deservedly lauded lead guitar. Expressive and bluesy with a tone nearing perfection, even the more pedestrian tunes are made worthwhile due to a Schenker solo. Lights Out holds up well; its subtleties are worth mentioning because the band always make it a point to rock hard, and the playing is always on. Almost completely overlooked stateside, Lights Out is a lost gem.
Despite a few generic moments, Lights Out is probably the best studio document of what elevated UFO above the '70s hard rock fray. Within a Euro-blues framework, the classic lineup that lasted from Phenomenon through Strangers in the Night incorporated challenging dynamics, epic balladry, and a more than occasional sensitivity. On Lights Out, all three of these traits come together in powerful fashion, most notably on the space rocker-cum-ballad "Love to Love," where a ridiculously heavy intro gives way to flourishing poetics. "Gettin' Ready" and an oddball Love cover, "Alone Again Or," also showcase the band's sensitive ambiguities, never compromising the group's overarching hard edge. Not enough can be said either about UFO's stand-out individual performances, particularly Phil Mogg's street level vocals, which no doubt greatly influenced Joe Elliot and Paul Di'Anno. Then, of course, there's the matter of Michael Schenker's deservedly lauded lead guitar. Expressive and bluesy with a tone nearing perfection, even the more pedestrian tunes are made worthwhile due to a Schenker solo. Lights Out holds up well; its subtleties are worth mentioning because the band always make it a point to rock hard, and the playing is always on. Almost completely overlooked stateside, Lights Out is a lost gem.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:38 (thirteen years ago)
I love this band, but it's too bad they couldn't put together a more consistent album that totally knocked it out of the park. Their live album serves that purpose I guess, but was it even nominated?
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:45 (thirteen years ago)
413. GENESIS Trespass (566 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #153 for 1970 , #4926 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/016/MI0000016257.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0mKr6PDMuhTEWatlw5a4hl
review[-] by Bruce EderGenesis' first truly progressive album, and their first record for the Charisma label (although Trespass was released in America by ABC, which is how MCA came to have it), is important mostly as a formative effort. Peter Gabriel, Tony Banks, and Michael Rutherford are here, but the guitarist is Anthony Phillips and the drummer is John Mayhew. Gabriel, Banks, Phillips, and Rutherford are responsible for the compositions, which are far more ambitious than the group's earlier efforts ("Silent Sun," etc.). Unfortunately, much of what is here is more interesting for what it points toward than what it actually does -- the group reflects a peculiarly dramatic brand of progressive rock, very theatrical as music, but not very successful. The lyrics are complex enough but lack the unity and clarity that would make Genesis' subsequent albums among the most interesting of prog rock efforts to analyze. Gabriel's voice is very expressive but generally lacks power and confidence, while the conventional backup vocalizing by the others is wimpy, and Phillips' playing is muted. Tony Banks' keyboards are the dominant instruments, which isn't that bad, but it isn't the Genesis that everyone came to know. The soft, lyrical "Visions of Angels" and "Stagnation" are typical, gentle works by a band that later learned how to rock much harder. Only one of the songs here, "The Knife" -- which rocks harder than anything else on Trespass and is easily the best track on the album -- lasted in the group's concert repertory past the next album.
Genesis' first truly progressive album, and their first record for the Charisma label (although Trespass was released in America by ABC, which is how MCA came to have it), is important mostly as a formative effort. Peter Gabriel, Tony Banks, and Michael Rutherford are here, but the guitarist is Anthony Phillips and the drummer is John Mayhew. Gabriel, Banks, Phillips, and Rutherford are responsible for the compositions, which are far more ambitious than the group's earlier efforts ("Silent Sun," etc.). Unfortunately, much of what is here is more interesting for what it points toward than what it actually does -- the group reflects a peculiarly dramatic brand of progressive rock, very theatrical as music, but not very successful. The lyrics are complex enough but lack the unity and clarity that would make Genesis' subsequent albums among the most interesting of prog rock efforts to analyze. Gabriel's voice is very expressive but generally lacks power and confidence, while the conventional backup vocalizing by the others is wimpy, and Phillips' playing is muted. Tony Banks' keyboards are the dominant instruments, which isn't that bad, but it isn't the Genesis that everyone came to know. The soft, lyrical "Visions of Angels" and "Stagnation" are typical, gentle works by a band that later learned how to rock much harder. Only one of the songs here, "The Knife" -- which rocks harder than anything else on Trespass and is easily the best track on the album -- lasted in the group's concert repertory past the next album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:46 (thirteen years ago)
Underrated album this IMO
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:47 (thirteen years ago)
412. NOVEMBER En Ny Tid är Här (568 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #205 for 1970http://recordservice.se/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/Record13Aug-007.jpg
If you dig: Blues Rock, Cream, Acid Rock. Their most bluesy output...the gorup also drew inspiration from Mountain. Rolf introduces a unique rather sensitive style of playing while Stalbrandt is a tad wilder version of Ginger Baker. "Mount Everest" starts things off beautifully with a mellow Blues and was later issued as an English sung single. Other noteworthy tracks are "En Annan Varld," the Prog bent "Sekunder (Forvandlas till ar)," "Grona Blad" and "attonde."
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:56 (thirteen years ago)
Here's mine:
Lots of Swedish bands have named proto-metallers November as a big influence, like Witchcraft, Graveyard, Horisont, Captain Crimson, probably Dead Man and Troubled Horse. I’m guessing their influence hasn’t stopped spreading, as people beyond Sweden are still just starting to hear about them. It’s hard not to be skeptical that this is just another lost 70s band that is overrated because of its previous obscurity, but I have been enjoying their first three albums immensely for a while now. I think they definitely measure up to other heavy blues Cream acolytes and proto-metal from the time like Mountain, Leaf Hound, Cactus, Deep Purple, Atomic Rooster, Jerusalem, Captain Beyond, Night Sun, even Led Zep! They evolved out of two Stockholm groups, Train and The Imps and toured with Fleetwood Mac in 1969 before recording their rocking debut (translates to “A New Time Is Here, which remains slightly more consistent than their second album, 2:a (1971), especially with the less bluesy hard rockers “En Annan Värld” and “Ta Ett Steg I Sagans Land”.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 22:59 (thirteen years ago)
410. GONG You (568 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #49 for 1974 , #1692 overall http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/501/MI0002501633.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5JMNWeqaC5p09e8e7x4vuD
review[-] by David Ross SmithConveying more advice from AP H.P., You emerges thematically as the third part in the Radio Gnome Invisible series, though not titled as such. Overall a fair release, the album seems somewhat poorly planned and insubstantial, with brief tunes punctuated by several long jams. Guitarist Steve Hillage's role in Gong had become quite prominent, to the point of overshadowing founding member Daevid Allen. You marks Allen's last stand with the band, at least until his quasi-return many years later. The album opens with three light, ethereal pieces. Among the short tunes, "Perfect Mystery" is the standout, a fun but very advanced jazz-oriented composition. The lengthy, epic-like structures on the album are generally solid (though at times uninspired), jazz-tinged progressive rockers, with the instrumental "Isle of Everywhere" taking top billing. Each piece features Pierre Moerlen's hot percussion, and each bandmember steps up front at one time or another. The awkward moments occur in the final cut, the jazzy "You Never Blow Yr Trip Forever." At times early in the song Allen's vocal presentation and lyrics seem at odds with music which dares to outdate him, making some of the most progressive music on the recording.
Conveying more advice from AP H.P., You emerges thematically as the third part in the Radio Gnome Invisible series, though not titled as such. Overall a fair release, the album seems somewhat poorly planned and insubstantial, with brief tunes punctuated by several long jams. Guitarist Steve Hillage's role in Gong had become quite prominent, to the point of overshadowing founding member Daevid Allen. You marks Allen's last stand with the band, at least until his quasi-return many years later. The album opens with three light, ethereal pieces. Among the short tunes, "Perfect Mystery" is the standout, a fun but very advanced jazz-oriented composition. The lengthy, epic-like structures on the album are generally solid (though at times uninspired), jazz-tinged progressive rockers, with the instrumental "Isle of Everywhere" taking top billing. Each piece features Pierre Moerlen's hot percussion, and each bandmember steps up front at one time or another. The awkward moments occur in the final cut, the jazzy "You Never Blow Yr Trip Forever." At times early in the song Allen's vocal presentation and lyrics seem at odds with music which dares to outdate him, making some of the most progressive music on the recording.
410. PENETRATION Moving Targets (568 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #405 for 1978http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oj_isVWKbhE/T6Wpqf2VvtI/AAAAAAAAG3w/_M0zAePNLvs/s1600/Penetration-Moving-Targets---105191.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/7LHgN8wNZITpIywXHVBRLb
review[-] by Dave ThompsonBuoyed by the sheer magnificence of their "Don't Dictate" debut single, Penetration's debut album stands among the very last true greats of the first wave of British punk offerings. A glorious collision of adrenalized exuberance and astonishing energies, topped by Pauline Murray's unmistakably soaring vocals, Moving Targets wrapped 11 tracks across its two sides of vinyl, and it was the greatest indication of their quality that it wasn't till you reached the end that you realized "Don't Dictate" itself was absent. In its stead, "Stone Heroes," the explosive "Movement," and the swirlingly atmospheric "Vision" were all classics in the making, while a cover of Patti Smith's "Free Money" is simply spellbinding, crunchier than the original but more emotive, too. And then there's the opening bars of the title track, a hilarious reminder of how fast things were changing back then -- it's the Pistols' "Holidays in the Sun," and doesn't it sound old-fashioned! All of which illustrates the sheer versatility bound up in the band. In another lifetime, they could have given the likes of Led Zeppelinand Deep Purple a run for their money, at least in terms of demonstrating dexterity, and it was Penetration's bad luck that they were riding a wave that had little time for such abilities. Not that they allowed the disappointment to show. Moving Targets shrugs aside most of punk's archetypes as it rockets along, while the decision to cover the Buzzcocks' "Nostalgia" reminds listeners that Penetration weren't the only band around that didn't give a toss for fashionable accessories. Of course, that determination would lead to the disappointment of the band's second album -- and, thereafter, their demise. As of mid-1978, however, Moving Targets could only herald a dazzling future.
Buoyed by the sheer magnificence of their "Don't Dictate" debut single, Penetration's debut album stands among the very last true greats of the first wave of British punk offerings. A glorious collision of adrenalized exuberance and astonishing energies, topped by Pauline Murray's unmistakably soaring vocals, Moving Targets wrapped 11 tracks across its two sides of vinyl, and it was the greatest indication of their quality that it wasn't till you reached the end that you realized "Don't Dictate" itself was absent. In its stead, "Stone Heroes," the explosive "Movement," and the swirlingly atmospheric "Vision" were all classics in the making, while a cover of Patti Smith's "Free Money" is simply spellbinding, crunchier than the original but more emotive, too. And then there's the opening bars of the title track, a hilarious reminder of how fast things were changing back then -- it's the Pistols' "Holidays in the Sun," and doesn't it sound old-fashioned! All of which illustrates the sheer versatility bound up in the band. In another lifetime, they could have given the likes of Led Zeppelinand Deep Purple a run for their money, at least in terms of demonstrating dexterity, and it was Penetration's bad luck that they were riding a wave that had little time for such abilities. Not that they allowed the disappointment to show. Moving Targets shrugs aside most of punk's archetypes as it rockets along, while the decision to cover the Buzzcocks' "Nostalgia" reminds listeners that Penetration weren't the only band around that didn't give a toss for fashionable accessories. Of course, that determination would lead to the disappointment of the band's second album -- and, thereafter, their demise. As of mid-1978, however, Moving Targets could only herald a dazzling future.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:03 (thirteen years ago)
I forgot to include in the first quote:
Loved it? Try: Incredible Hog, Vatten, Blueset, Midsommar. -- R. Chelled
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:05 (thirteen years ago)
That was for November of course. It's gettin quiet here! I'm about to go for a run before it gets dark. AG, you forgot this one for Penetration:
Originally inspired into existence by Patti Smith and the Sex Pistols, Penetration emerged from northern England (Durham, near Newcastle) in 1977 with a great punk single, "Don't Dictate." Led by singer Pauline Murray, the band's brash amateurism had been converted into competent musicianship by the time of Moving Targets, released at first on glow-in-the-dark gimmick vinyl that was far noisier than illuminating. Playing mostly originals (written by Murray in collaboration with bandmates), but including Smith's "Free Money" and the Buzzcocks' "Nostalgia," Penetration's debut LP mixes expansive creations and direct punk-outs, all done with flair and originality. Unlike other LPs by young bands of this era, Moving Targets still sounds surprisingly fresh. (The belated CD issue adds five tracks, including "Don't Dictate" and its B-side, 1978's "Fire Squad" and its B-side, and the flip of the album's incisive "Life's a Gamble.") -- Trouser Press
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:10 (thirteen years ago)
409. OHIO PLAYERS Ecstacy (569 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #892 for 1973http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/435/MI0000435386.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2V2CNrtpHFdxpVLHrTKGxe
review[-] by Alex HendersonThroughout the 1970s, the Ohio Players were famous (or infamous) for their erotic album covers. But there are major differences between the covers of Mercury albums like Skin Tight, Fire, Honey, and Contradiction and the covers of such Westbound releases as Pleasure and Pain. At Mercury, the Players' album covers favored softcore erotica à la Playboy or Penthouse, whereas the covers of their Westbound LPs were more bizarre and offered kinky bondage/S&M imagery. Those covers came under attack from different parts of the political spectrum; some of the more radical feminists accused the Players of objectifying women, while Republicans and Christian fundamentalists accused them of promoting moral decline. And the Players were laughing all the way to the bank -- at least from 1974 on. When their third Westbound album, Ecstasy, came out in 1973, they were still a year away from signing with Mercury and becoming really huge. But they did have a small cult following, which found that Ecstasy fell short of the excellence of Pain and Pleasure. Nonetheless, the material is respectable and generally decent. Serious Players fans will find sweaty funk items like "Spinning," "Black Cat," and the title song to be enjoyable even though they aren't among the band's essential recordings. While Ecstasy isn't recommended to casual listeners, it isn't a bad album to have in your collection if you fancy yourself a hardcore Players addict.
Throughout the 1970s, the Ohio Players were famous (or infamous) for their erotic album covers. But there are major differences between the covers of Mercury albums like Skin Tight, Fire, Honey, and Contradiction and the covers of such Westbound releases as Pleasure and Pain. At Mercury, the Players' album covers favored softcore erotica à la Playboy or Penthouse, whereas the covers of their Westbound LPs were more bizarre and offered kinky bondage/S&M imagery. Those covers came under attack from different parts of the political spectrum; some of the more radical feminists accused the Players of objectifying women, while Republicans and Christian fundamentalists accused them of promoting moral decline. And the Players were laughing all the way to the bank -- at least from 1974 on. When their third Westbound album, Ecstasy, came out in 1973, they were still a year away from signing with Mercury and becoming really huge. But they did have a small cult following, which found that Ecstasy fell short of the excellence of Pain and Pleasure. Nonetheless, the material is respectable and generally decent. Serious Players fans will find sweaty funk items like "Spinning," "Black Cat," and the title song to be enjoyable even though they aren't among the band's essential recordings. While Ecstasy isn't recommended to casual listeners, it isn't a bad album to have in your collection if you fancy yourself a hardcore Players addict.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:16 (thirteen years ago)
I do and therefore I do!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:17 (thirteen years ago)
And I hope Kitchen Person does too!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:19 (thirteen years ago)
Sadly I've never listened to any of the earlier Ohio Players albums, I've been meaning to for ages. The only ones I have are Skin Tight, Fire and Honey. Honey is by far my favourite of those.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:24 (thirteen years ago)
You dont have any of the wonderful Westbound era albums with Junie on them???
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!!!!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:26 (thirteen years ago)
408. MX-80 SOUND Hard Attack (575 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #192 for 1977http://991.com/newGallery/MX-80-Sound-Hard-Attack-452186.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5qIAGr56lIjdK14jOosSFb
If ever a band realized the potential of pre-punk "underground" noise rock, MX-80 is it. This weird post-metal art band, which originated in Bloomington, Indiana (from the same scene that spawned the goofy Gizmos), centered around Bruce Anderson's slashing, trebly guitar riffing and Rich Stim's deadpan, often indecipherable, mumble. As a five-piece (with two drummers), they twice released Big Hits, a seven-song 7-inch EP (subtitled "Hard Pop From the Hoosiers"), on local labels, impressing Island Records enough to sign them. But the resulting Hard Attack never came out in the States and attracted little attention aside from some critical raves. (The reissue on Atavistic pairs Hard Attack with Big Hits, adding a bonus outtake from the Hard Attack sessions.) -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Ned RaggettMX-80 Sound's first full album found the band balanced in some sort of weird zone where punk, art metal, and a drawling sort of humor Stephen Malkmus would chase down in later years could all happily coexist. That the band was a contemporary (in terms of time, if not exact location) of Devo and Pere Ubu makes a perfect sort of sense -- the quartet's songs were less immediately anthemic, but something in the Ohio water seems to have seeped over to Indiana as well. Lines like "There's an electrical alliance when you turn on that appliance" could be pure spud-boy attitude, while the nervous frazzle of the music and the semi-sci-fi identity the band used for their appearances and photos make for pure herky-jerky fun. If anything, Hard Attack may just well be the secret counterpart to the Fall at the time, and for good reason (even the two-drummer team of Armour and Mahoney arguably beat Mark E. Smith and company to the punch). Stim is a wonderfully offbeat singer, ranting without ever raving, as prone to talk over, around, and beside the beat as to sing anything straightforward, while his occasional turns on horn seem like the type of thing he would do for the hell of it. The rhythm section's affinity for prog rock's tempo switching and jazzy breakdowns never become an end in and of itself; the goal instead is to keep both the noise and the groove on, and they do it with raunchy power. Lead guitarist Anderson makes some righteously giddy feedback and circus/carnival riffs (Stim aiding him at points, other times finding its own path), and the end result is a sharp balance between insanity and just enough control. Outrageously funny/bad lyrical joke: "A horse that lives for a year is a yearling, but a horse that lives for a week, is it a weakling?"
MX-80 Sound's first full album found the band balanced in some sort of weird zone where punk, art metal, and a drawling sort of humor Stephen Malkmus would chase down in later years could all happily coexist. That the band was a contemporary (in terms of time, if not exact location) of Devo and Pere Ubu makes a perfect sort of sense -- the quartet's songs were less immediately anthemic, but something in the Ohio water seems to have seeped over to Indiana as well. Lines like "There's an electrical alliance when you turn on that appliance" could be pure spud-boy attitude, while the nervous frazzle of the music and the semi-sci-fi identity the band used for their appearances and photos make for pure herky-jerky fun. If anything, Hard Attack may just well be the secret counterpart to the Fall at the time, and for good reason (even the two-drummer team of Armour and Mahoney arguably beat Mark E. Smith and company to the punch). Stim is a wonderfully offbeat singer, ranting without ever raving, as prone to talk over, around, and beside the beat as to sing anything straightforward, while his occasional turns on horn seem like the type of thing he would do for the hell of it. The rhythm section's affinity for prog rock's tempo switching and jazzy breakdowns never become an end in and of itself; the goal instead is to keep both the noise and the groove on, and they do it with raunchy power. Lead guitarist Anderson makes some righteously giddy feedback and circus/carnival riffs (Stim aiding him at points, other times finding its own path), and the end result is a sharp balance between insanity and just enough control. Outrageously funny/bad lyrical joke: "A horse that lives for a year is a yearling, but a horse that lives for a week, is it a weakling?"
Contradiction is the last Ohio Players album I have and it's good too. Supposedly the ones after aren't that great.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:28 (thirteen years ago)
I know I know, I'll get on it. Is Ecstacy the best place to start? I actually had Contradiction too but didn't really rate it so sold it on at some point. As I said I love Honey, one of my favourite albums of that genre.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:31 (thirteen years ago)
Ecstacy, Pleasure and Pain are all on Spotify.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:32 (thirteen years ago)
no Pain and Pleasure are better but since they wont be that expensive you may as well pick up Ecstasy along with them
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:33 (thirteen years ago)
Ok cool, I'll get on it. It's good their albums seem to be pretty easy to track down.
― Kitchen Person, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:36 (thirteen years ago)
407. AMON DüüL II Made In Germany (578 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #581 for 1975http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/884/MI0001884658.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2H59RzjJkRWS984ZQhMRCH
Then, even more wide ranging, was the double opus MADE IN GERMANY, lyrically Amon Düül II's ultimate stab at German society, attitudes, the media, the record industry, etc. The great shame was that musically much of it wasn't too inspired. Even before the departure of Renate Knaup (she moved on toPopol Vuh) there had been hoards of changes in personnel. -- Cosmic EggIf you dig: Krautrock, Prog, Psych, Experimental. Further changes in the personnel accompanied the release of the album Made In Germany, an ambitious double...concept album on the German society and told the story of a fictional character called "Mr. Kraut." The album was certainly better than the last two and integrated between broad musical influences, but it was no longer "it." The album didn't sell well and the band was now in debt, which prompted Heible, Tischer and Rogner to quit, frustrated. -- R. ChelledRecently I've been filling in the cracks of my Amon Duul awareness, and in so doing read a lot of online commentary and reviews about their career. Generally such overviews conclude along the lines of "in 1974 they made an album called Hi-Jack, which sucks, and nothing after that is worth hearing." LIES I TELL YOU! Because 1975's "Made In Germany" is actually the best of their post-freakout albums (by which I mean all those coming after 1971's "Tanz der Lemminge.") After those early freaky records the Duul tried to be more like a conventional rock band with shorter songs such as you might actually hear on the radio, which sometimes worked quite well ("Wolf City" LP) and sometimes not so well ("Hi-Jack" which isn't actually THAT bad, at least not all of it.) But even then "Germany" is kind of unique in their catalog, because it's not just more "conventional" it's outright "pop music" with hummable singalong melodies and catchy swingin' arrangements.For some reason the sound & vibe of the album makes me think this is what Jefferson Airplane would have sounded like by 1975 if they hadn't imploded in a haze of hard drugs, egos and fuzzy politics. Because Renate Knaup is the teutonic Grace Slick! Her voice has the same icy beauty, and the lyrics she sings have the same sly countercultural wink. I don't think any of the other Duul albums really use her vocal talents as well as this one. It's also something of a concept album, the concept being "German history" more-or-less. But thankfully it's not too serious about that, it's more a case of the lyrics having a unifying theme and the way the record is sequenced: it begins with a Straussian classical overture, then about 10 catchy pop tunes are interspersed with brief krautrockische instrumental interludes, and it ends with a smokin' jam on the traditional tune "La Paloma" (here retitled "La Krautoma.") Among my favorite tracks are the bouncy prog-pomp of "Wilhelm, Wilhelm" which is a sort of acid-befuddled call to bring back the Kaiser and has lyrics alternating between German, French and English. Also "The Emigrant Song" which has a banjo (!) and is sung in (deliberately) heavily accented English: "zee Krauts are coming to zee U.S.A." (pronounced auf Deutsch as "ooo-ess-ahhh.") And "Loosey Girls" which is a haunting melancholy rock version of Marelene Dietrich/cabaret music. There's also tunes about Fritz Lang ("Metropolis") and Mad King Ludwig of Bavaria. But my favorite of all is the jaunty pop of "Wide-Angle" with the lovely Renate at her best reminiscing about those old acid-gobbling days on the commune but then today we're all "drinking compromise cocktails." A great song from the days after the hippy dream collapsed.This albums strikes me as their most lyrically profound (almost the only Duul album where I pay attention to the lyrics in fact.) And although it may sound like a shocking "sellout" if you're used to their sound on rightly celebrated albums like "Yeti" and "Phallus Dei", it's actually quite stellar if you take it on it's own terms. The very definition of "unsung"! -- J. Cope
If you dig: Krautrock, Prog, Psych, Experimental. Further changes in the personnel accompanied the release of the album Made In Germany, an ambitious double...concept album on the German society and told the story of a fictional character called "Mr. Kraut." The album was certainly better than the last two and integrated between broad musical influences, but it was no longer "it." The album didn't sell well and the band was now in debt, which prompted Heible, Tischer and Rogner to quit, frustrated. -- R. Chelled
Recently I've been filling in the cracks of my Amon Duul awareness, and in so doing read a lot of online commentary and reviews about their career. Generally such overviews conclude along the lines of "in 1974 they made an album called Hi-Jack, which sucks, and nothing after that is worth hearing." LIES I TELL YOU! Because 1975's "Made In Germany" is actually the best of their post-freakout albums (by which I mean all those coming after 1971's "Tanz der Lemminge.") After those early freaky records the Duul tried to be more like a conventional rock band with shorter songs such as you might actually hear on the radio, which sometimes worked quite well ("Wolf City" LP) and sometimes not so well ("Hi-Jack" which isn't actually THAT bad, at least not all of it.) But even then "Germany" is kind of unique in their catalog, because it's not just more "conventional" it's outright "pop music" with hummable singalong melodies and catchy swingin' arrangements.
For some reason the sound & vibe of the album makes me think this is what Jefferson Airplane would have sounded like by 1975 if they hadn't imploded in a haze of hard drugs, egos and fuzzy politics. Because Renate Knaup is the teutonic Grace Slick! Her voice has the same icy beauty, and the lyrics she sings have the same sly countercultural wink. I don't think any of the other Duul albums really use her vocal talents as well as this one. It's also something of a concept album, the concept being "German history" more-or-less. But thankfully it's not too serious about that, it's more a case of the lyrics having a unifying theme and the way the record is sequenced: it begins with a Straussian classical overture, then about 10 catchy pop tunes are interspersed with brief krautrockische instrumental interludes, and it ends with a smokin' jam on the traditional tune "La Paloma" (here retitled "La Krautoma.")
Among my favorite tracks are the bouncy prog-pomp of "Wilhelm, Wilhelm" which is a sort of acid-befuddled call to bring back the Kaiser and has lyrics alternating between German, French and English. Also "The Emigrant Song" which has a banjo (!) and is sung in (deliberately) heavily accented English: "zee Krauts are coming to zee U.S.A." (pronounced auf Deutsch as "ooo-ess-ahhh.") And "Loosey Girls" which is a haunting melancholy rock version of Marelene Dietrich/cabaret music. There's also tunes about Fritz Lang ("Metropolis") and Mad King Ludwig of Bavaria. But my favorite of all is the jaunty pop of "Wide-Angle" with the lovely Renate at her best reminiscing about those old acid-gobbling days on the commune but then today we're all "drinking compromise cocktails." A great song from the days after the hippy dream collapsed.
This albums strikes me as their most lyrically profound (almost the only Duul album where I pay attention to the lyrics in fact.) And although it may sound like a shocking "sellout" if you're used to their sound on rightly celebrated albums like "Yeti" and "Phallus Dei", it's actually quite stellar if you take it on it's own terms. The very definition of "unsung"! -- J. Cope
reviewby Steven McDonaldThere is a lovely moment in "La Krautoma," after the surf music intro gives way to a strange Peter Leopold drum solo and moves on, that the sound begins to mutate into early-'70s Hawkwind, a gleeful nod from one notable space rock outfit to another. "La Krautoma" is more than that, though; it's a six-minute distillation of acid rock, space rock, and Krautrock that shows the band's knowledge of their own history. It is also an eyebrow-raising moment in the midst of this particular, which spends more time getting into the same space as mid-'70s Europop, providing an antimatter universe version of an average Eurovision song contest lineup -- think early ABBA in vinyl raincoats, singing ditties about old King Ludwig and the like. Equally perverse, the Blue Angel motif of the cover fits completely with this approach: life as a cabaret, the decadent edges visible through the veneer. In many respects, it's a neat record, though sometimes a bit too glossy and clever for its own good -- nowhere near the sprawling Tanz Der Lemminge, for example. One of the essential set, however.
There is a lovely moment in "La Krautoma," after the surf music intro gives way to a strange Peter Leopold drum solo and moves on, that the sound begins to mutate into early-'70s Hawkwind, a gleeful nod from one notable space rock outfit to another. "La Krautoma" is more than that, though; it's a six-minute distillation of acid rock, space rock, and Krautrock that shows the band's knowledge of their own history. It is also an eyebrow-raising moment in the midst of this particular, which spends more time getting into the same space as mid-'70s Europop, providing an antimatter universe version of an average Eurovision song contest lineup -- think early ABBA in vinyl raincoats, singing ditties about old King Ludwig and the like. Equally perverse, the Blue Angel motif of the cover fits completely with this approach: life as a cabaret, the decadent edges visible through the veneer. In many respects, it's a neat record, though sometimes a bit too glossy and clever for its own good -- nowhere near the sprawling Tanz Der Lemminge, for example. One of the essential set, however.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:36 (thirteen years ago)
Hard Attack - what an amazing noise MX80 make on that thing! When I was in my late teens my friend had that on a tape in his shitty Metro with The Modern Dance on the other side, perfect combination imo. Used to sound great over the top of the squealing and the whining of its runty little engine. Would have slung it a few votes for sure.
BTW Bruce Foxton is a dead ringer for Kim Wilde on the cover of In The City, don't you think?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:37 (thirteen years ago)
Quite an underrated album this, if a bit poppier. It has the majestic Metropolis on it. Which outloud regulars will know very well.xp
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:37 (thirteen years ago)
you didn't vote,nick?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:38 (thirteen years ago)
I think in the late 80's + having a friend with a shitty metro was standard.
― Damo Suzuki's Parrot, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:42 (thirteen years ago)
406. PATTO Patto (586 Points, 3 Votes)RYM: #202 for 1970http://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=WWxipiU6bKBzUM&tbnid=m7c7SrniTDhUJM:&ved=&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.halidon.it%2Fmusica-c1-patto_patto-g2772-d1.html&ei=9gJFUZDECaHU0QWChIGQCQ&psig=AFQjCNHEBEj6H3XRqTVMbisQe4SeYiLKBg&ust=1363563634466800http://open.spotify.com/album/66Bzh4knbBKurn14HuRrNU
review[-] by Dave ThompsonCriminally underrated at the time, but borne into legend by the unspeakable tragedies that awaited its makers, the debut album by Patto can safely be described among the finest jazz-rock fusion albums ever cut by a British band. Mike Patto's vocals certainly match that billing, a throaty, emotive sound that puts one in mind of the effect that Steve Winwood spent much of his career pursuing, while first lieutenant Ollie Halsall's reputation as one of the era's hottest guitarists is revealed as only one of the strings to his bow -- early into the opening "The Man," he unleashes a mean vibraphone solo as well. However, "Hold Me Back" quickly restates his lead duty and, though the song itself is little more than a crude rewrite of the Rolling Stones' "Stray Cat Blues," the riffs that scythe through the brew are sparkling enough to camouflage any lyrical redundancies. "Money Bag," too, offers up a showcase that is difficult to shake, dueling with a scat rhythm section that is tasteful enough to eat, but never overwhelming the mood. The passing of time has not preserved all of Patto's joys -- like so much of the fusion of the age, there are elements that sound preposterously overwrought today. At its best, however, it re-establishes all the glories for which Patto was renowned at the time; at its very best, it occasionally even overpowers the group.
Criminally underrated at the time, but borne into legend by the unspeakable tragedies that awaited its makers, the debut album by Patto can safely be described among the finest jazz-rock fusion albums ever cut by a British band. Mike Patto's vocals certainly match that billing, a throaty, emotive sound that puts one in mind of the effect that Steve Winwood spent much of his career pursuing, while first lieutenant Ollie Halsall's reputation as one of the era's hottest guitarists is revealed as only one of the strings to his bow -- early into the opening "The Man," he unleashes a mean vibraphone solo as well. However, "Hold Me Back" quickly restates his lead duty and, though the song itself is little more than a crude rewrite of the Rolling Stones' "Stray Cat Blues," the riffs that scythe through the brew are sparkling enough to camouflage any lyrical redundancies. "Money Bag," too, offers up a showcase that is difficult to shake, dueling with a scat rhythm section that is tasteful enough to eat, but never overwhelming the mood. The passing of time has not preserved all of Patto's joys -- like so much of the fusion of the age, there are elements that sound preposterously overwrought today. At its best, however, it re-establishes all the glories for which Patto was renowned at the time; at its very best, it occasionally even overpowers the group.
This album is quite brilliant. Ollie Halsall was one hell of a guitar player.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:42 (thirteen years ago)
http://www.soundstation.dk/images/products/large/41/111541-a.jpg
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:43 (thirteen years ago)
I need to hear that Amon Duul, I have all of them up to that point. I got Patto a while back on some other recommendation, can't remember where, interesting stuff.
I'm not sure which makes me want to dole out back-handed bitchslaps more, Xgau's reviews, or all the people who admit to not voting. You had over 5 goddam months! If you couldn't get yr shit together to spend at least 5 minutes on a 20 album ballot, we don't fuckin wanna hear about it!
Heh, but everyone's welcome to comment ;) I'm stir-crazy, must go run wild and play hopscotch along the lake path with the goose flops left behind by the melted snow.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:45 (thirteen years ago)
The bizarre thing is THEIR BEST ALBUM WASN'T EVEN NOMINATEDso go check out the other album and Im including the other album as a joint nomination!406. PATTO Patto (586 Points, 3 Votes)RYM: #202 for 1970http://www.soundstation.dk/images/products/large/41/111541-a.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/66Bzh4knbBKurn14HuRrNU
review [-] by Dave Thompson Criminally underrated at the time, but borne into legend by the unspeakable tragedies that awaited its makers, the debut album by Patto can safely be described among the finest jazz-rock fusion albums ever cut by a British band. Mike Patto's vocals certainly match that billing, a throaty, emotive sound that puts one in mind of the effect that Steve Winwood spent much of his career pursuing, while first lieutenant Ollie Halsall's reputation as one of the era's hottest guitarists is revealed as only one of the strings to his bow -- early into the opening "The Man," he unleashes a mean vibraphone solo as well. However, "Hold Me Back" quickly restates his lead duty and, though the song itself is little more than a crude rewrite of the Rolling Stones' "Stray Cat Blues," the riffs that scythe through the brew are sparkling enough to camouflage any lyrical redundancies. "Money Bag," too, offers up a showcase that is difficult to shake, dueling with a scat rhythm section that is tasteful enough to eat, but never overwhelming the mood. The passing of time has not preserved all of Patto's joys -- like so much of the fusion of the age, there are elements that sound preposterously overwrought today. At its best, however, it re-establishes all the glories for which Patto was renowned at the time; at its very best, it occasionally even overpowers the group.
This album is quite brilliant. Ollie Halsall was one hell of a guitar player.http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/657/MI0000657451.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5hvjYrTVhPDNHv6ql3KF4K
review[-] by Dave ThompsonIgnore the fact that the opening title track sounds almost exactly like the intro to Neil Young's "Ohio" and Patto's second album kicks into gear from the moment needle strikes vinyl. A driving fiesta of good-time bluesy-rock, Hold Your Fire retains just enough of its predecessor's jazz fusion sensibilities to ensure that you're never sure what will happen next, but similarly imbibes sufficient oxygen from elsewhere on the early-'70s British rock underground to line up alongside any other primal gem of the age. Certainly producer Muff Winwood seems considerably more at ease than he did his last time around, hauling Ollie Halsall's tuneful soloing high up in the mix and framing the album's best tracks -- the melancholy "You, You Point Your Finger" among them -- within some breathtakingly lovely arrangements. Another highlight, the funky Faces-like "See You at the Dance Tonight," almost single-handedly blueprints the best of the still-unborn pub rock boom, while Halsall's playful "Air Raid Shelter" would not have been out of place on Hold Your Fire, which further proves that not all of Patto's early instincts have been suppressed. Neither do the surprises stop with the music. Hold Your Fire was released in positively the most un-Roger Dean-like sleeve design to which Dean ever put his name. There again, vast spacescapes filled with floating islands and flying elephants were never really Patto's forte -- not when the alternative offers barefoot cops, scantily clad damsels, and hippies bearing colorful mushrooms.
Ignore the fact that the opening title track sounds almost exactly like the intro to Neil Young's "Ohio" and Patto's second album kicks into gear from the moment needle strikes vinyl. A driving fiesta of good-time bluesy-rock, Hold Your Fire retains just enough of its predecessor's jazz fusion sensibilities to ensure that you're never sure what will happen next, but similarly imbibes sufficient oxygen from elsewhere on the early-'70s British rock underground to line up alongside any other primal gem of the age. Certainly producer Muff Winwood seems considerably more at ease than he did his last time around, hauling Ollie Halsall's tuneful soloing high up in the mix and framing the album's best tracks -- the melancholy "You, You Point Your Finger" among them -- within some breathtakingly lovely arrangements. Another highlight, the funky Faces-like "See You at the Dance Tonight," almost single-handedly blueprints the best of the still-unborn pub rock boom, while Halsall's playful "Air Raid Shelter" would not have been out of place on Hold Your Fire, which further proves that not all of Patto's early instincts have been suppressed. Neither do the surprises stop with the music. Hold Your Fire was released in positively the most un-Roger Dean-like sleeve design to which Dean ever put his name. There again, vast spacescapes filled with floating islands and flying elephants were never really Patto's forte -- not when the alternative offers barefoot cops, scantily clad damsels, and hippies bearing colorful mushrooms.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:47 (thirteen years ago)
No, I didn't vote K - was going to but then other things got in the way. Nommed a whole bunch of stuff though.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:51 (thirteen years ago)
405. MILES DAVIS Live-Evil (588 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #31 for 1971 , #545 overall | Acclaimed: #1361http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/550/MI0001550560.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4eK5DQxLCshZCUk6D5a8Q1
"Inamorata" wanders when Gary Bartz isn't making Coltrane noises and ends up with a recitation in which music is equated with "masculinity," but the three other long pieces are usually fascinating and often exciting: "Sivad," which begins fast and funky, then slows down drastically, and finally revs up again; "Funky Tonk," Miles's most compelling rhythmic exploration to date; and the gospel-tinged "What I Say." The four short pieces are more like impressionistic experiments. Two of them, "Selim" and "Nem Um Talvez," hark back to the late '50s. Sound quite appropriate, too. A- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Thom JurekLive-Evil is one of Miles Davis' most confusing and illuminating documents. As a double album, it features very different settings of his band -- and indeed two very different bands. The double-LP CD package is an amalgam of a December 19, 1970, gig at the Cellar Door, which featured a band comprised of Miles, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Jack DeJohnette, guitarist John McLaughlin, saxophonist Gary Bartz, Keith Jarrett on organ, and percussionist Airto. These tunes show a septet that grooved hard and fast, touching on the great funkiness that would come on later. But they are also misleading in that McLaughlin only joined the band for this night of a four-night stand; he wasn't really a member of the band at this time. Therefore, as fine and deeply lyrically grooved-out as these tracks are, they feel just a bit stiff -- check any edition of this band without him and hear the difference. The other band on these discs was recorded in Columbia's Studio B and subbed Ron Carter or Dave Holland on bass, added Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock on electric pianos, dropped the guitar on "Selim" and "Nem Um Talvez," and subbed Steve Grossman over Gary Bartz while adding Hermeto Pascoal on percussion and drums in one place ("Selim"). In fact, these sessions were recorded earlier than the live dates, the previous June in fact, when the three-keyboard band was beginning to fall apart. Why the discs were not issued separately or as a live disc and a studio disc has more to do with Miles' mind than anything else. As for the performances, the live material is wonderfully immediate and fiery: "Sivad," "Funky Tonk," and "What I Say" all cream with enthusiasm, even if they are a tad unsure of how to accommodate McLaughlin. Of the studio tracks, only "Little Red Church" comes up to that level of excitement, but the other tracks, particularly "Gemini/Double Image," have a winding, whirring kind of dynamic to them that seems to turn them back in on themselves, as if the band was really pushing in a free direction that Miles was trying to rein in. It's an awesome record, but it's because of its flaws rather than in spite of them. This is the sound of transition and complexity, and somehow it still grooves wonderfully.
Live-Evil is one of Miles Davis' most confusing and illuminating documents. As a double album, it features very different settings of his band -- and indeed two very different bands. The double-LP CD package is an amalgam of a December 19, 1970, gig at the Cellar Door, which featured a band comprised of Miles, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Jack DeJohnette, guitarist John McLaughlin, saxophonist Gary Bartz, Keith Jarrett on organ, and percussionist Airto. These tunes show a septet that grooved hard and fast, touching on the great funkiness that would come on later. But they are also misleading in that McLaughlin only joined the band for this night of a four-night stand; he wasn't really a member of the band at this time. Therefore, as fine and deeply lyrically grooved-out as these tracks are, they feel just a bit stiff -- check any edition of this band without him and hear the difference. The other band on these discs was recorded in Columbia's Studio B and subbed Ron Carter or Dave Holland on bass, added Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock on electric pianos, dropped the guitar on "Selim" and "Nem Um Talvez," and subbed Steve Grossman over Gary Bartz while adding Hermeto Pascoal on percussion and drums in one place ("Selim"). In fact, these sessions were recorded earlier than the live dates, the previous June in fact, when the three-keyboard band was beginning to fall apart. Why the discs were not issued separately or as a live disc and a studio disc has more to do with Miles' mind than anything else. As for the performances, the live material is wonderfully immediate and fiery: "Sivad," "Funky Tonk," and "What I Say" all cream with enthusiasm, even if they are a tad unsure of how to accommodate McLaughlin. Of the studio tracks, only "Little Red Church" comes up to that level of excitement, but the other tracks, particularly "Gemini/Double Image," have a winding, whirring kind of dynamic to them that seems to turn them back in on themselves, as if the band was really pushing in a free direction that Miles was trying to rein in. It's an awesome record, but it's because of its flaws rather than in spite of them. This is the sound of transition and complexity, and somehow it still grooves wonderfully.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:55 (thirteen years ago)
Maybe some of the people on the POLLIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET (ILM artist poll #32 voting thread)might like to comment if any of them are reading.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 16 March 2013 23:57 (thirteen years ago)
404. THE POLITICIANS The Politicians Featuring McKinley Jackson (591 Points, 3 Votes)RYM: #449 for 1972http://www.meltingpotblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/PoliticiansCover.jpg
A brilliant funk album that I think Primal Scream must have heard because I'm Losing More Than I'll Ever Have/Loaded sounds remarkably similar to The World We Live In
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:05 (thirteen years ago)
I think I might have nommed that patto. I didn't think I should do both because I didn't think anyone else cared or would vote for them so I picked the one with The Man on it. But yeah, both are great. I may not have even voted for it because I spent like 5 min on my ballot and kind of screwed it up, but there's a lot of great vertigo stuff that might not be nominated. Ramases, gracious, colosseum, etc
― wk, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:07 (thirteen years ago)
Was out this evening so missed a bunch. Shame Gary Wilson didn't get very high, I thought that might appeal to more people.
I will give full credit to AG for introducing me to Made In Germany - I would otherwise have written off that period Amon Duul, but while it's not at all like their earlier stuff, it's a good pop album with at least one GREAT track.
― emil.y, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:09 (thirteen years ago)
Ollie Halsall was one hell of a guitar player.
Ahhhhhhhhh, I didn't realise Halsall was from Patto! I only know his name from the Miniatures LP.
― emil.y, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:10 (thirteen years ago)
Should have campaigned for it. Trust me when I say albums that got campaigned for got a spike in votes after it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:12 (thirteen years ago)
You know; for all the Faults of Mojo; it introduced me to Patto. Though I didn't like it at first but eventually I went back to try them again and was rewarded.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:13 (thirteen years ago)
this next ones for turrican and alexinnyc
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:14 (thirteen years ago)
403. THE STRANGLERS No More Heroes (591 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #117 for 1977http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/589/MI0000589858.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4WsDFcdDl3UU9ztRmyxQQ4
No More Heroes continues in the same vein, but drops whatever hint of restraint may have been in force the first time around. Rude words and adult themes abound, with no punches pulled, from the blatant sexism of "Bring on the Nubiles" to the sarcastic attack on racism ("I Feel Like a Wog") to the suicide of a friend ("Dagenham Dave"). Despite the increased virulence, the music is even better than on the debut, introducing pop stylings that would later become a more common aspect of the Stranglers' character. No More Heroes is easily their best album. -- Trouser Press
reviewby John DouganRattus Norvegicus, the Stranglers' first album (and first of two in 1977), was hardly a punk rock classic, but it outsold every other punk album and remains a pretty good chunk of art-punk. On the other hand, No More Heroes, recorded three months later and released in September 1977, is faster, nastier, and better. At this point the Stranglers were on top of their game, and the ferocity and anger that suffuses this record would never be repeated. Hugh Cornwell's testosterone level is very high, but it's still an enjoyable bit of noise that holds up better than anyone would have guessed at the time.
Rattus Norvegicus, the Stranglers' first album (and first of two in 1977), was hardly a punk rock classic, but it outsold every other punk album and remains a pretty good chunk of art-punk. On the other hand, No More Heroes, recorded three months later and released in September 1977, is faster, nastier, and better. At this point the Stranglers were on top of their game, and the ferocity and anger that suffuses this record would never be repeated. Hugh Cornwell's testosterone level is very high, but it's still an enjoyable bit of noise that holds up better than anyone would have guessed at the time.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:15 (thirteen years ago)
I should really check out more stranglers stuff. Only heard in full the 1st album. I did have the Golden Brown 7" as a kid though haha
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:22 (thirteen years ago)
oh emil.y hang around for 401!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:25 (thirteen years ago)
402. ALICE COOPER Welcome to my Nightmare (599 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #47 for 1975 , #1957 overall http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/982/MI0001982295.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
The solo debut actually ain't so bad--no worse than all the others. "Department of Youth" is his catchiest teen power song to date, "Cold Ethyl" his catchiest necrophilia song to date, and "Only Women Bleed" the most explicitly feminist song to hit top forty since "I Am Woman." Alice's nose for what the kids want to hear is as discriminating as it is impervious to moral suasion, so perhaps this means that the more obvious feminist truisms have become conventional wisdom among at least half our adolescents. Encouraging. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Greg PratoWith the 1974 disintegration of the original Alice Cooper group, Alice was free to launch a solo career. He wisely decided to re-enlist the services of Bob Ezrin for his solo debut, Welcome to My Nightmare, which was a concept album tied into the story line of the highly theatrical concert tour he launched soon after the album's release. While the music lost most of the gritty edge of the original AC lineup, Welcome to My Nightmare remains Alice's best solo effort -- while some tracks stray from his expected hard rock direction, there's plenty of fist-pumping rock to go around. The disco-flavored, album-opening title track would be reworked on the stage as more of a hard rock tune, while "Some Folks" dips into cabaret territory, and "Only Women Bleed" is a sensitive ballad that became a Top Ten hit. But the rockers serve as the album's foundation -- "Devil's Food," "The Black Widow," "Department of Youth," and "Cold Ethyl" are all standouts, as is the more tranquil yet eerie epic "Steven." Despite this promising start to Cooper's solo career, the majority of his subsequent releases were often not as focused and were of varying quality.
With the 1974 disintegration of the original Alice Cooper group, Alice was free to launch a solo career. He wisely decided to re-enlist the services of Bob Ezrin for his solo debut, Welcome to My Nightmare, which was a concept album tied into the story line of the highly theatrical concert tour he launched soon after the album's release. While the music lost most of the gritty edge of the original AC lineup, Welcome to My Nightmare remains Alice's best solo effort -- while some tracks stray from his expected hard rock direction, there's plenty of fist-pumping rock to go around. The disco-flavored, album-opening title track would be reworked on the stage as more of a hard rock tune, while "Some Folks" dips into cabaret territory, and "Only Women Bleed" is a sensitive ballad that became a Top Ten hit. But the rockers serve as the album's foundation -- "Devil's Food," "The Black Widow," "Department of Youth," and "Cold Ethyl" are all standouts, as is the more tranquil yet eerie epic "Steven." Despite this promising start to Cooper's solo career, the majority of his subsequent releases were often not as focused and were of varying quality.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:28 (thirteen years ago)
2 more for tonight to come
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:30 (thirteen years ago)
401. FAR EAST FAMILY BAND Parallel World (604 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #142 for 1976http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/967/MI0001967534.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4BdLYRDLFBv8b2uNjrLZXx
If you're a fully geld-up Krautrocker, you're probably best starting with Parallel World. It's produced by ex-Tangerine Dream/Ash Ra Tempel man Klaus Schultze and is an hour of full-on Cosmic Jokers' style space-rock. It doesn't suffer from any dodgy Gong-isms either. It's hard, it's sleek, it's motorik and it really does the business. --- J. Cope, Classic Rock
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:39 (thirteen years ago)
omg I love Welcome to My Nightmare. Sometimes it's my favorite Alice album. Cold Ethyl and Black Widow are so GREAT
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:40 (thirteen years ago)
Its weird that its the only alice album not on Spotify (at least in the UK)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:41 (thirteen years ago)
One more tonight btw
FEFB = excellent stuff
― emil.y, Sunday, 17 March 2013 00:43 (thirteen years ago)
400. SPIRIT Feedback (605 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: DNPhttp://991.com/newGallery/Spirit-Feedback---Yellow-89911.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0aIqmNuUXicpWUQHutbEzo
In a way, Al Staehely's earthy rock and roll is a relief from the California spaces of what were supposedly this band's great days--songs as hard as his fast ones aren't easy to come by these days. Unfortunately, he sounds like the kind of guy who's more likely to think of his dick than his music when you tell him he's hard. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Joe ViglioneFeedback is one of the strangest happenings in rock, more dramatic than Michael MacDonald taking over the Doobie Brothers, but more successful artistically than it was financially, and a chapter of the group that is sadly forgotten. The original band was produced by Lou Adler and built around guitar prodigy Randy California, and a bit of history is in order to understand this hybrid project. David Briggs, producer of Kathi MacDonald, Alice Cooper's Easy Action, and Neil Young, helped the band forge their classic Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus and was retained for this follow-up. William Ruhlmann's liner notes to Spirit's Time Circle Epic/Legacy release notes that Randy California resigned from the group at this point. Mark Andes and Jay Ferguson formed Jo Jo Gunne with Curly Smith, and Smith's friends, the Staehely Brothers, joined Cassidy and company. What Ed Cassidy and keyboard player John Locke created with producer David Briggs was a phenomenal reinvention of Spirit, which worked, sometimes better than the original group. Bassist/vocalist Al Staehely wrote the music, with guitar chores and backing vocals by his brother J. Christian Staehely. "Witch," the final track on the disc, is typical of this new Spirit sound, a fusion of pop/jazz/rock with a dab of country. It would have been a perfect blend for Randy California to step back into, though his ego might have been the stumbling block here. In concert, this version of Spirit was serious and precise, playing with a cool efficiency. David Briggs was the perfect guy to oversee this project, allowing the musicians their space and developing a true counterpart to The Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus, considered by many to be the band's highpoint. The cover is in eerie aqua blue with the faces looking like spirits peering out of a distorted television. The gatefold contains a band photo and a smart evolutionary image for this eclectic and underrated West Coast band. Here's the clincher: musically, some of the best work on Feedback are the two instrumentals by keyboard player John Locke, "Puesta Del Scam" and "Trancas Fog-Out," fragments of the original "Spirit" performed by this new quartet. The stuff is brilliant, and that it was excised from Time Circle is a pity. It was this writer who put Epic/Legacy in touch with Randy California in the development of 1991's Time Circle compilation project, and certainly the elegant "Darkness," the third John Locke title, deserved to be included on that double disc, and some representation of this remarkable work would have been appropriate rather than nine whopping cuts from The Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus. Jo Jo Gunne guitarist Matthew Andes (brother of Spirit's Mark Andes) co-wrote "Mellow Morning" with Al Staehely, and it, along with "Right on Time" and "Ripe and Ready," all display the Spirit vibe, even hinting at some Jo Jo Gunne, as strange as that may seem. The Cassidy/Locke/Staehely/Staehely combo added enough jazz to Spirit to temper the all out assault that was Jo Jo Gunne, and therein lies the difference. This is not David Bowie's ex-drummer and bassist forming the Spiders From Mars; keep in mind that Ed Cassidy was not only the band's insignia with his Yul Brynner look, he was this group's spiritual leader. As Randy California's step-dad, it's a shame he didn't get more firm with the boy and demand they all be "the family that plays together." Had the Staehely brothers and John Locke stayed on board for Cassidy and Randy California's next project, the erratic Potatoland disc may have mutated into something totally brilliant. The best of Al Staehely, John Locke, and Randy California would have been truly something. Feedback is a solid performance and remarkable album which deserves its place in the Spirit catalog, and not the status of bastard son. It is a legitimate Spirit project and it is very, very good.
Feedback is one of the strangest happenings in rock, more dramatic than Michael MacDonald taking over the Doobie Brothers, but more successful artistically than it was financially, and a chapter of the group that is sadly forgotten. The original band was produced by Lou Adler and built around guitar prodigy Randy California, and a bit of history is in order to understand this hybrid project. David Briggs, producer of Kathi MacDonald, Alice Cooper's Easy Action, and Neil Young, helped the band forge their classic Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus and was retained for this follow-up. William Ruhlmann's liner notes to Spirit's Time Circle Epic/Legacy release notes that Randy California resigned from the group at this point. Mark Andes and Jay Ferguson formed Jo Jo Gunne with Curly Smith, and Smith's friends, the Staehely Brothers, joined Cassidy and company. What Ed Cassidy and keyboard player John Locke created with producer David Briggs was a phenomenal reinvention of Spirit, which worked, sometimes better than the original group. Bassist/vocalist Al Staehely wrote the music, with guitar chores and backing vocals by his brother J. Christian Staehely. "Witch," the final track on the disc, is typical of this new Spirit sound, a fusion of pop/jazz/rock with a dab of country. It would have been a perfect blend for Randy California to step back into, though his ego might have been the stumbling block here. In concert, this version of Spirit was serious and precise, playing with a cool efficiency. David Briggs was the perfect guy to oversee this project, allowing the musicians their space and developing a true counterpart to The Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus, considered by many to be the band's highpoint. The cover is in eerie aqua blue with the faces looking like spirits peering out of a distorted television. The gatefold contains a band photo and a smart evolutionary image for this eclectic and underrated West Coast band. Here's the clincher: musically, some of the best work on Feedback are the two instrumentals by keyboard player John Locke, "Puesta Del Scam" and "Trancas Fog-Out," fragments of the original "Spirit" performed by this new quartet. The stuff is brilliant, and that it was excised from Time Circle is a pity. It was this writer who put Epic/Legacy in touch with Randy California in the development of 1991's Time Circle compilation project, and certainly the elegant "Darkness," the third John Locke title, deserved to be included on that double disc, and some representation of this remarkable work would have been appropriate rather than nine whopping cuts from The Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus. Jo Jo Gunne guitarist Matthew Andes (brother of Spirit's Mark Andes) co-wrote "Mellow Morning" with Al Staehely, and it, along with "Right on Time" and "Ripe and Ready," all display the Spirit vibe, even hinting at some Jo Jo Gunne, as strange as that may seem. The Cassidy/Locke/Staehely/Staehely combo added enough jazz to Spirit to temper the all out assault that was Jo Jo Gunne, and therein lies the difference. This is not David Bowie's ex-drummer and bassist forming the Spiders From Mars; keep in mind that Ed Cassidy was not only the band's insignia with his Yul Brynner look, he was this group's spiritual leader. As Randy California's step-dad, it's a shame he didn't get more firm with the boy and demand they all be "the family that plays together." Had the Staehely brothers and John Locke stayed on board for Cassidy and Randy California's next project, the erratic Potatoland disc may have mutated into something totally brilliant. The best of Al Staehely, John Locke, and Randy California would have been truly something. Feedback is a solid performance and remarkable album which deserves its place in the Spirit catalog, and not the status of bastard son. It is a legitimate Spirit project and it is very, very good.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 01:03 (thirteen years ago)
That's all for tonight, folks!
Will start around the same time tomorrow afternoon. (between 1-2ish UK)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 01:04 (thirteen years ago)
I think viceroy is doing recaps so hopefully that will come later.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 01:39 (thirteen years ago)
That Far East album is great space rock, but more space than rock. I freakin' love that Stranglers album, and have to say that while they have several underrated albums that came after, they all slightly disappoint me that they're not more like No More Heroes.
I stopped by Reckless on my run and bought a used copy of Los Dug Dug's Smog and the brand-new reissue of Erkin Koray's Elektronic Turkuler on Pharaway Sounds. We'll see if those show up here.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 17 March 2013 01:47 (thirteen years ago)
thanks thread for introducing me to Far East Family Band
― C: (crüt), Sunday, 17 March 2013 01:47 (thirteen years ago)
although it is difficult to listen to this album even on headphones right now since Tonic is playing right outside my office window
― C: (crüt), Sunday, 17 March 2013 01:55 (thirteen years ago)
who??
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:10 (thirteen years ago)
Anyway will start about 2 unless there is actually people around before
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:15 (thirteen years ago)
Some really good albums yesterday I thought and I enjoyed that mott the hoople album. Glad Crut has discovered Far East Family Band.
Hopefully some more really good albums to come today..
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:34 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, totally
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:36 (thirteen years ago)
I suppose it's only taken you two days to roll out 100 albums, I had visions of this poll still going on this time next year
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:37 (thirteen years ago)
(That's my only contribution to this thread btw, I'm not involved in this poll)
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:38 (thirteen years ago)
tom feel free to hang around and post
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:42 (thirteen years ago)
should be some good Kraut/kosmische stuff coming up I should think...
― Neil S, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:43 (thirteen years ago)
Too much hideousness has been revealed so far
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:44 (thirteen years ago)
Tom you're very knowledgeable about the 70s and I think people would like to see your opinions (I know I would)
anyway here is #399. I REPEAT ONLY #399!!!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:45 (thirteen years ago)
What hideousness, tom? (hey in amongst all the love it will do no harm for some dissenting critical voices on albums)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:46 (thirteen years ago)
399. CHEAP TRICK In Color (606 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #70 for 1977 , #3557 overall | Acclaimed: #1673http://popdose.com/wp-content/uploads/cheap-trick-in-color-1287751.jpg
Nowadays, punk makes it possible to resist hard rock so slickly textured, but with these guys why bother? They don't waste a cut, and permit none of the stupidity or showiness or sentimentality of postheavy and/or postboogie professionalism, either. If only they seemed interested in their well-crafted say-nothing lyrics. B+ -- R. ChristgauIn Color (And in Black and White), produced by Tom Werman (who went on to score metal with Ted Nugent, Mötley Crüe and Poison), consolidates the band's pop potential by reducing the buzzy guitar raunch in favor of a cleaner, more clearly articulated sound. Trick maintains its anti-establishment coolness with "Downed," an undisguised paean to barbiturates, and the bitchy "You're All Talk" while reiterating the genial leer of the debut's "Hot Love" in "Southern Girls" and less pointed romantic intentions in "So Good to See You" and "I Want You to Want Me." The song's second studio version has an obviously commercial clean pop bounce that didn't work. (The song did, however, a year later when a concert recording of it became the band's first hit single.) The bonus tracks on the reissue include the goofy fun of the non-LP B-side "Oh Boy," demos of "Southern Girls" and "Come On, Come On" and a rollicking pair of 1977 live cuts. -- Trouser Press...In a way, Cheap Trick is Beatle-esque. But not in the sense of the Raspberries or Elton John or (God knows!) the Bay City Rollers. What sets this group apart is that these guys actually imagine that the important music of the later Beatles was the almost heavy metal (but still melodic) hard rock of "Birthday," "Helater Skelter" and "Back in the U.S.S.R." on the White Album and "I Want You" and "Come Together" on Abbey Road. Reference points are scattered everywhere: "Hello There," the opening track, evokes the manic verve of "Birthday"; "Big Eyes" opens with a direct quote from "I Want You"; "Oh Caroline" and "So Good to See You" have the slightly narcotic feeling of Abbey Road's best rock. Nielsen is a superbly inventive guitarist, though, and while rhythm guitarist Robin Zander's singing owes a large debt to both Lennon and Harrison, Trick isn't merely derivative. Like Boston, Trick is more than the sum of the elements it manipulates, mostly because it manipulates them so skillfully... ...Cheap Trick has already won the battle against the formulaic and pedestrian that punk rock is trying to fight. That vision of the music is also the source of the group's other most salient and appealing characteristic; its humor. Perhaps people who look like Nielsen and Carlos have no choice but to become self-deprecating wits, I don't know. But plenty of these songs are plain funny: "You're All Talk" is brilliantly titled exercise in pure incoherence. "Clock Strikes Ten" opens with a silly imitations of Big Ben, then rips into a song that can only be compared to Little Richard playing "Rip It Up," easily his silliest song, on guitar. "Southern Girls" could be a crapshooter's monologue. Ultimately, the group's sense of humor may be what I find so attractive about In Color: it's never grim. At a time when almost everything--even proclamations of joy--is so determined, it's nice to find a bunch of guys who can take it easy without having seven women on their minds. -- Dave Marsh, RS
In Color (And in Black and White), produced by Tom Werman (who went on to score metal with Ted Nugent, Mötley Crüe and Poison), consolidates the band's pop potential by reducing the buzzy guitar raunch in favor of a cleaner, more clearly articulated sound. Trick maintains its anti-establishment coolness with "Downed," an undisguised paean to barbiturates, and the bitchy "You're All Talk" while reiterating the genial leer of the debut's "Hot Love" in "Southern Girls" and less pointed romantic intentions in "So Good to See You" and "I Want You to Want Me." The song's second studio version has an obviously commercial clean pop bounce that didn't work. (The song did, however, a year later when a concert recording of it became the band's first hit single.) The bonus tracks on the reissue include the goofy fun of the non-LP B-side "Oh Boy," demos of "Southern Girls" and "Come On, Come On" and a rollicking pair of 1977 live cuts. -- Trouser Press
...In a way, Cheap Trick is Beatle-esque. But not in the sense of the Raspberries or Elton John or (God knows!) the Bay City Rollers. What sets this group apart is that these guys actually imagine that the important music of the later Beatles was the almost heavy metal (but still melodic) hard rock of "Birthday," "Helater Skelter" and "Back in the U.S.S.R." on the White Album and "I Want You" and "Come Together" on Abbey Road. Reference points are scattered everywhere: "Hello There," the opening track, evokes the manic verve of "Birthday"; "Big Eyes" opens with a direct quote from "I Want You"; "Oh Caroline" and "So Good to See You" have the slightly narcotic feeling of Abbey Road's best rock. Nielsen is a superbly inventive guitarist, though, and while rhythm guitarist Robin Zander's singing owes a large debt to both Lennon and Harrison, Trick isn't merely derivative. Like Boston, Trick is more than the sum of the elements it manipulates, mostly because it manipulates them so skillfully...
...Cheap Trick has already won the battle against the formulaic and pedestrian that punk rock is trying to fight. That vision of the music is also the source of the group's other most salient and appealing characteristic; its humor. Perhaps people who look like Nielsen and Carlos have no choice but to become self-deprecating wits, I don't know. But plenty of these songs are plain funny: "You're All Talk" is brilliantly titled exercise in pure incoherence. "Clock Strikes Ten" opens with a silly imitations of Big Ben, then rips into a song that can only be compared to Little Richard playing "Rip It Up," easily his silliest song, on guitar. "Southern Girls" could be a crapshooter's monologue.
Ultimately, the group's sense of humor may be what I find so attractive about In Color: it's never grim. At a time when almost everything--even proclamations of joy--is so determined, it's nice to find a bunch of guys who can take it easy without having seven women on their minds. -- Dave Marsh, RS
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineThough Cheap Trick's second album, In Color, draws from the same stockpile of Midwestern barroom favorites as their debut album, it was produced by Tom Werman, who had the band strip away their raw attack and replace it with a shiny, radio-ready sound. Consequently, In Color doesn't have the visceral attack of its predecessor, but it still has the same sensibility and a similar set of spectacular songs. From the druggy psychedelia of "Downed" and the bubblegum singalong "I Want You to Want Me" to the "California Girls" homage of "Southern Girls," the album has the same encyclopedic knowledge of rock & roll, as well as the good sense to subvert it with a perverse sense of humor. Portions of the album haven't dated well, simply due to the glossy production, but the songs and music on In Color are as splendid as the band's debut.
Though Cheap Trick's second album, In Color, draws from the same stockpile of Midwestern barroom favorites as their debut album, it was produced by Tom Werman, who had the band strip away their raw attack and replace it with a shiny, radio-ready sound. Consequently, In Color doesn't have the visceral attack of its predecessor, but it still has the same sensibility and a similar set of spectacular songs. From the druggy psychedelia of "Downed" and the bubblegum singalong "I Want You to Want Me" to the "California Girls" homage of "Southern Girls," the album has the same encyclopedic knowledge of rock & roll, as well as the good sense to subvert it with a perverse sense of humor. Portions of the album haven't dated well, simply due to the glossy production, but the songs and music on In Color are as splendid as the band's debut.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:47 (thirteen years ago)
http://open.spotify.com/album/1NXkEAlqn9gKy2fJ9pegeQ
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 13:51 (thirteen years ago)
Holding out for the P-Funk poll, about 3 years from now. Why isn't there a Can poll?
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:04 (thirteen years ago)
Tom you should do it!! When is the pfunk due? btw why didn't you and shakey vote for the pfunk in this poll?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:13 (thirteen years ago)
398. FACES Ooh La La (606 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #225 for 1973
They do what they want to do very likably--this is as rowdy and friendly as rock and roll gets. But only on the title song and finale--written by the Rons (Wood and Lane) rather than the Rod--do they slap your back so's you'd still feel it five minutes later. B -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineIt wasn't all over but the shouting, but the Faces sure weren't thriving when they released their last album, Ooh La La, in 1973. The problem, of course, was Rod Stewart, who had turned into a superstar, causing innumerable tensions within the band. He had yet to decamp to America, had yet to turn to pop instead of rock & roll, but he was on the cusp of that sea change. Nevertheless, on the record at least, it didn't seem like being with the Faces was a strain on him; it still seemed that he enjoyed a good night out with the boys, and Ooh La La is precisely that: a good night out, one that's blessed with some very memorable moments. If there's not quite as many as on the past two Faces platters, chalk that up to circumstance perhaps. On Long Player and A Nod Is as Good as a Wink, they were a well-oiled machine at the peak of their powers. Here they're trying to rev up -- they get there, but it's possible to hear the effort, as some of the songs fall just a little bit short of memorable. But there are some extraordinary moments here, including Rod's "Silicone Grown" and the wonderful "Cindy Incidentally," a sweet, easy pop song. But the heart of this album really belongs to Ronnie Lane, who dominates the second side of the album, starting with the Stewart collaboration "If I'm on the Late Side" and running through the sweet, soft "Glad and Sorry" to "Just Another Honky" and, finally, to the raucous yet bittersweet "Ooh La La," as great a song as they ever recorded and an appropriate drawing of the curtain on this tremendous band.
It wasn't all over but the shouting, but the Faces sure weren't thriving when they released their last album, Ooh La La, in 1973. The problem, of course, was Rod Stewart, who had turned into a superstar, causing innumerable tensions within the band. He had yet to decamp to America, had yet to turn to pop instead of rock & roll, but he was on the cusp of that sea change. Nevertheless, on the record at least, it didn't seem like being with the Faces was a strain on him; it still seemed that he enjoyed a good night out with the boys, and Ooh La La is precisely that: a good night out, one that's blessed with some very memorable moments. If there's not quite as many as on the past two Faces platters, chalk that up to circumstance perhaps. On Long Player and A Nod Is as Good as a Wink, they were a well-oiled machine at the peak of their powers. Here they're trying to rev up -- they get there, but it's possible to hear the effort, as some of the songs fall just a little bit short of memorable. But there are some extraordinary moments here, including Rod's "Silicone Grown" and the wonderful "Cindy Incidentally," a sweet, easy pop song. But the heart of this album really belongs to Ronnie Lane, who dominates the second side of the album, starting with the Stewart collaboration "If I'm on the Late Side" and running through the sweet, soft "Glad and Sorry" to "Just Another Honky" and, finally, to the raucous yet bittersweet "Ooh La La," as great a song as they ever recorded and an appropriate drawing of the curtain on this tremendous band.
Lengthy review from Christgau there. Even NME reviews are longer.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:22 (thirteen years ago)
397. BLACK WIDOW Sacrifice (612 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #280 for 1970http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/529/MI0002529306.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7pvMW7hvj7vDYv5eKX2ezm
review[-] by Dave ThompsonBlack Widow may have enjoyed a reasonably long and defiantly varied career. But to anyone who cares, they will be remembered for just one song, "Come to the Sabbat" -- not a hit single, but a standout on a cheapo label compilation in the early '70s, and destined to live on for decades after the band. Naturally, the accompanying Sacrifice album has bounced along in its wake, first as an increasingly expensive vinyl collectors' item, more recently as a regular on the CD reissue circuit, and here it comes again, this time bearing more primal Black Widow than you could ever have dreamed of hearing. Ultimate Sacrifice: One opens, naturally, with the original seven-song album. More fascinating, however, is the chance to hear five of the seven ("Way to Power" and "Attack of the Demon" are absent) in their original demo form, where they are revealed, if anything, to be even more dramatic than on the final vinyl. "In Ancient Days" in particular profits from the looseness of the performance, while "Come to the Sabbat" packs a feel of abandonment that makes the familiar version seem quite sedate. Of course, the bonus tracks are really only of interest if you truly worship the original record, and, once past "Come to the Sabbat," there probably aren't many people who feel that strongly. But the liners tell the band's tale well, the remastering is impressive, and if you're not doing anything next weekend, you might well want to drop by Black Widow's house. They've got somebody visiting, you know.
Black Widow may have enjoyed a reasonably long and defiantly varied career. But to anyone who cares, they will be remembered for just one song, "Come to the Sabbat" -- not a hit single, but a standout on a cheapo label compilation in the early '70s, and destined to live on for decades after the band. Naturally, the accompanying Sacrifice album has bounced along in its wake, first as an increasingly expensive vinyl collectors' item, more recently as a regular on the CD reissue circuit, and here it comes again, this time bearing more primal Black Widow than you could ever have dreamed of hearing. Ultimate Sacrifice: One opens, naturally, with the original seven-song album. More fascinating, however, is the chance to hear five of the seven ("Way to Power" and "Attack of the Demon" are absent) in their original demo form, where they are revealed, if anything, to be even more dramatic than on the final vinyl. "In Ancient Days" in particular profits from the looseness of the performance, while "Come to the Sabbat" packs a feel of abandonment that makes the familiar version seem quite sedate. Of course, the bonus tracks are really only of interest if you truly worship the original record, and, once past "Come to the Sabbat," there probably aren't many people who feel that strongly. But the liners tell the band's tale well, the remastering is impressive, and if you're not doing anything next weekend, you might well want to drop by Black Widow's house. They've got somebody visiting, you know.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:35 (thirteen years ago)
Occult Rock is apparently quite a thing now so I keep reading about Black Widow.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:41 (thirteen years ago)
Odd to see Ooh La La place above Long Player.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:50 (thirteen years ago)
xp Yah I want to check the Black Widow album out myself
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:53 (thirteen years ago)
396. SLY STONE High On You (616 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #457 for 1975http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_knLOBP6FJ_k/TSipWygjbRI/AAAAAAAACI4/OK0Ma7DV1zs/s1600/High%2BOn%2BYou.jpg
The lyrics haven't regained their punch, and neither have the melodies--when he does try to say something, you barely notice. But the old rhythmic eccentricity, both vocal and instrumental, makes this more interesting to listen to than the run of dancey goop. Let's not give up on him yet. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Jason BirchmeierThe first album attributed to Sly Stone rather than Sly & the Family Stone, High on You didn't exactly resurrect the troubled artist's sinking career, but it does remain one of the better straight-up funk albums of the '70s. Released during the same mid-'70s era that spawned vibrant funk albums such as the Commodores' Machine Gun, Parliament's Up for the Down Stroke, and the Ohio Players' Skin Tight, along with the first Graham Central Station albums, High on You seems like a genre exercise for Sly -- rather than trailblazing new sounds like he did five years earlier, he's now embracing the sound of the times. Still, even though Sly isn't doing anything especially novel here, he performs an impressive series of succinct, well-crafted funk songs with plenty of pop accessibility. Indeed, High on You has the makings of a comeback album. It's worth noting that the album's title track was an impressive single, peaking at number three on the R&B chart and even making an appearance on the pop chart -- though fairly obscure nowadays, "High on You," remains one of Sly's career highlights. Elsewhere, "Crossword Puzzle" stands out with its distinct horn hook and numerous background vocals (it's become most famous for being sampled by De La Soul on 3 Feet High and Rising), while the gentle "That's Lovin' You," the album's sole ballad, cools down the proceedings for a moment. After these first three highlights, the album drops off a little, though the funk level remains well in the red. In fact, the upbeat nature of the album is perhaps its most satisfying attribute, given the downcast mood of Sly's previous few albums. High on You doesn't measure up to the best Sly & the Family Stone albums of the late '60s and early '70s, granted, but it's a step up in quality from Small Talk and certainly all that would follow. Long written off and long out of print, High on You is an underrated album that deserves re-evaluation.
The first album attributed to Sly Stone rather than Sly & the Family Stone, High on You didn't exactly resurrect the troubled artist's sinking career, but it does remain one of the better straight-up funk albums of the '70s. Released during the same mid-'70s era that spawned vibrant funk albums such as the Commodores' Machine Gun, Parliament's Up for the Down Stroke, and the Ohio Players' Skin Tight, along with the first Graham Central Station albums, High on You seems like a genre exercise for Sly -- rather than trailblazing new sounds like he did five years earlier, he's now embracing the sound of the times. Still, even though Sly isn't doing anything especially novel here, he performs an impressive series of succinct, well-crafted funk songs with plenty of pop accessibility. Indeed, High on You has the makings of a comeback album. It's worth noting that the album's title track was an impressive single, peaking at number three on the R&B chart and even making an appearance on the pop chart -- though fairly obscure nowadays, "High on You," remains one of Sly's career highlights. Elsewhere, "Crossword Puzzle" stands out with its distinct horn hook and numerous background vocals (it's become most famous for being sampled by De La Soul on 3 Feet High and Rising), while the gentle "That's Lovin' You," the album's sole ballad, cools down the proceedings for a moment. After these first three highlights, the album drops off a little, though the funk level remains well in the red. In fact, the upbeat nature of the album is perhaps its most satisfying attribute, given the downcast mood of Sly's previous few albums. High on You doesn't measure up to the best Sly & the Family Stone albums of the late '60s and early '70s, granted, but it's a step up in quality from Small Talk and certainly all that would follow. Long written off and long out of print, High on You is an underrated album that deserves re-evaluation.
His last really good album. Shame most have never heard it. I recommend it a lot to Sly fans.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 14:57 (thirteen years ago)
Title track is especially terrific.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:03 (thirteen years ago)
is he wearing a magen dovid in that cover??
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:05 (thirteen years ago)
395. FELA KUTI No Agreement (617 Points, 5 Votes) RYM: #110 for 1977https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTTMiP7joQmVpBQ4bckFXv3MyRFpE78VmedjJeYooXErG_thUYuhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4Jm5lUkxEcOedBMIT6ce73
Like all groove artists, Fela benefits mightily from marginal differentiation, which on this 1977 outing with Afrika 70 is provided by the blats, splats, and tuneful snatches of Lester Bowie's trumpet. The 15:36 title side is distinguished from its 15:48 companion by a few minutes of Fela mouthing off and a catchier keystone ostinato. B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Sam SamuelsonRecorded in 1977, No Agreement follows the Afro-beat template to a masterful level: amazingly catchy guitar lines that replicate a bass guitar in their construction, a second guitarist to add some JB's funk power, driving horn section proclamations, intricate saxophone, trumpet and organ improv solos, and then Fela Anikulopo Kuti's wit and message for the people. Even though Fela had vowed to speak his mind, he turns in a song where he proclaims to keep his mouth shut if it means that he will harm his brothers and sisters in the population (not that he actually does, as some of his most scathing songs have yet to come). "No Agreement" is decidedly some of the most interesting instrumentation that he had turned in. With help from Art Ensemble of Chicago trumpeter extradordinare Lester Bowie (Bowie turned in a tenure of about a year with Fela), the solos are magically inspired and the rhythm section rolls on with the power of a steamroller. "Dog Days," the instrumental B-side, sounds more like "No Agreement" part two; it does, however, carry its own weight -- again with the help from Bowie.
Recorded in 1977, No Agreement follows the Afro-beat template to a masterful level: amazingly catchy guitar lines that replicate a bass guitar in their construction, a second guitarist to add some JB's funk power, driving horn section proclamations, intricate saxophone, trumpet and organ improv solos, and then Fela Anikulopo Kuti's wit and message for the people. Even though Fela had vowed to speak his mind, he turns in a song where he proclaims to keep his mouth shut if it means that he will harm his brothers and sisters in the population (not that he actually does, as some of his most scathing songs have yet to come). "No Agreement" is decidedly some of the most interesting instrumentation that he had turned in. With help from Art Ensemble of Chicago trumpeter extradordinare Lester Bowie (Bowie turned in a tenure of about a year with Fela), the solos are magically inspired and the rhythm section rolls on with the power of a steamroller. "Dog Days," the instrumental B-side, sounds more like "No Agreement" part two; it does, however, carry its own weight -- again with the help from Bowie.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:13 (thirteen years ago)
WOO FELA
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:13 (thirteen years ago)
omg you guys Black Widow does not deliver the dark occult goods like you might think they would. I like them but they are very silly.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:14 (thirteen years ago)
fela goat - i don't think i even voted for this album but it's such a great one
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:15 (thirteen years ago)
Good afternoon Viceroy! Have you recovered from your poll exertions?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:15 (thirteen years ago)
my organs are far less tender yes, thank you!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:16 (thirteen years ago)
And jeez could we get some diversity in here its all white boys up in this poll!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:23 (thirteen years ago)
still pondering the organs comment tbh
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:24 (thirteen years ago)
394. CURTIS MAYFIELD Roots (618 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #47 for 1971, #1061 overallhttp://farm3.staticflickr.com/2049/1572069066_57d309d7d5_b.jpg
Last time he announced his lack of "concern or interest in astrology," so when the zodiac showed up as a packaging motif I began to get nostalgic for the Impressions. But though the vagueness that was Curtis's chief flaw runs rampant musically ("Love to Keep You in My Mind" goes nowhere slowly) and lyrically ("Underground" is one long mixed metaphor), it's not all that bad--the relaxed, natural groove of Mayfield's falsetto and his rhythm section are both seductive. Only on the lead cuts, however--especially the heavy-breathing sex opus "Get Down"--does he sweep you off your feet. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Bruce EderCurtis Mayfield's visionary album, a landmark creation every bit as compelling and as far-reaching in its musical and extra-musical goals as Marvin Gaye's contemporary What's Goin' On. Opening on the hit "Get Down," the album soars on some of the sweetest and most eloquent -- yet driving -- soul sounds heard up to that time. Mayfield's growing musical ambitions, first manifested on the Curtis album, and his more sophisticated political sensibilities, presented with a lot of raw power on Curtis Live!, are pulled together here in a new, richer studio language, embodied in extended song structures ("Underground"), idealistic yet lyrically dazzling anthems ("We Got to Have Peace," "Keep On Keeping On," and, best of all, the soaring "Beautiful Brother of Mine"), and impassioned blues ("Now You're Gone"). The music is even bolder than the material on the Curtis album, with Mayfield expanding his instrumental range to the level of a veritable soul orchestra; and the recording is better realized, as Mayfield, with that album and a tour behind him, shows a degree of confidence that only a handful of soul artists of this era could have mustered. Charly Records had this album out on CD in the 1980s, but Rhino's acquisition of the Curtom catalog in 1996 led to a remastered and expanded reissue in 1999 with superior sound, detailed annotation, and the addition of four bonus tracks. Apart from a slow, funky, stripped-down but eminently listenable demo of "Underground" (which reveals just how sophisticated Mayfield's conceptions -- forget the finished versions -- of his songs were), the latter consist of the single edits of "Get Down," "We Got to Have Peace," and "Beautiful Brother of Mine." They seem redundant after the album versions, though they don't detract at all from the extraordinary value of this mid-priced CD.
Curtis Mayfield's visionary album, a landmark creation every bit as compelling and as far-reaching in its musical and extra-musical goals as Marvin Gaye's contemporary What's Goin' On. Opening on the hit "Get Down," the album soars on some of the sweetest and most eloquent -- yet driving -- soul sounds heard up to that time. Mayfield's growing musical ambitions, first manifested on the Curtis album, and his more sophisticated political sensibilities, presented with a lot of raw power on Curtis Live!, are pulled together here in a new, richer studio language, embodied in extended song structures ("Underground"), idealistic yet lyrically dazzling anthems ("We Got to Have Peace," "Keep On Keeping On," and, best of all, the soaring "Beautiful Brother of Mine"), and impassioned blues ("Now You're Gone"). The music is even bolder than the material on the Curtis album, with Mayfield expanding his instrumental range to the level of a veritable soul orchestra; and the recording is better realized, as Mayfield, with that album and a tour behind him, shows a degree of confidence that only a handful of soul artists of this era could have mustered. Charly Records had this album out on CD in the 1980s, but Rhino's acquisition of the Curtom catalog in 1996 led to a remastered and expanded reissue in 1999 with superior sound, detailed annotation, and the addition of four bonus tracks. Apart from a slow, funky, stripped-down but eminently listenable demo of "Underground" (which reveals just how sophisticated Mayfield's conceptions -- forget the finished versions -- of his songs were), the latter consist of the single edits of "Get Down," "We Got to Have Peace," and "Beautiful Brother of Mine." They seem redundant after the album versions, though they don't detract at all from the extraordinary value of this mid-priced CD.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:24 (thirteen years ago)
veg do u like fela kuti?
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:24 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah Coven and Black Widow were not really that good. Recent bands like Devil's Blood, Blood Ceremony and Jess & the Ancient Ones are a vast improvement.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:25 (thirteen years ago)
No Curtis that's twigs, not a roots!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:25 (thirteen years ago)
xp totally agree FnB.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:26 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah I do like Fela!!I havent heard a ton but I've liked what I've heard
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:26 (thirteen years ago)
Great Curtis album
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:26 (thirteen years ago)
Do we all love Curtis here?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:27 (thirteen years ago)
wow this "Get Down" song is an epic jam - i don't think i've ever listened to any mayfield before
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:27 (thirteen years ago)
Me neither... Fela is one of those indimidating artists to me who have a huge back catalog. This kept me from Bowie for longer than I care to admit.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:28 (thirteen years ago)
whaaaaat oh Mordy you're gonna love it
curtis is THE SHIT
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:28 (thirteen years ago)
Cant go wrong with any 70s Curtis or Fela
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:29 (thirteen years ago)
the shit AND the business
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:29 (thirteen years ago)
<3 Curtis
― C: (crüt), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:30 (thirteen years ago)
What makes Curtis *The* ultimate shit, vg? ;)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:31 (thirteen years ago)
oh i know this keep on keeping on song so i guess i have heard some before
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:33 (thirteen years ago)
you need the self titled album in your mife
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:34 (thirteen years ago)
I'm listening to No Agreement now and it's pretty f'in great! I'm shaking my but in my chair.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:34 (thirteen years ago)
somehow this seems the perfect time for the next band
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:35 (thirteen years ago)
curtis is THE shit bcz he knows whats up
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:35 (thirteen years ago)
393. A CERTAIN RATIO The Graveyard And The Ballroom (620 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #248 for 1979https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR1sz7Uf7tbVqFMGbNQdLy0ewQTicq0nP5lPhK1w_Ku_eDdWRFSEw
Manchester's A Certain Ratio (ACR) was one of the first new wave-era outfits to use horns and other instruments to play a soulful brand of contemporary music that defied prevalent trends but proved significantly influential. The Graveyard cassette compiles '79 material — half studio work produced by Martin Hannett, the rest live from their hometown's famed Electric Ballroom. With the subsequent Do the Du, an exciting and original post-punk dance record that does ACR proud (check out "Shack Up" for the decay of modern social values), it seemed certain that ACR would quickly join Public Image in the vanguard of the new rock left. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Victor W. ValdiviaThe angular, bass-heavy post-punk of A Certain Ratio could conceivably be compared to that of their Factory labelmates Joy Division (singer Simon Topping is a dead ringer vocally for Joy Division's Ian Curtis). One key difference is that A Certain Ratio has a more pronounced funk influence, which makes their music more danceable. Another difference is that Topping's lyrics, more abstract and even humorous (albeit in a dark, quirky way) are less dramatic than Curtis'. The Graveyard and the Ballroom, compiled from a collection of early four-track recordings and a set of live tracks (recorded when the band was opening for the Talking Heads), shows off A Certain Ratio's strengths well. The sound is surprisingly good for such lo-fi recordings, and the band is, for all of their musical amateurishness, rather precise and controlled. Unfortunately, that highlights a key flaw of the album: Too often, it is accomplished enough to be intriguing, but never all that gripping. By emphasizing rhythm over melody, A Certain Ratio makes music that is interesting and danceable, but not hugely compelling. It's mechanically well-played, with quirky, interesting lyrics that never really seem to add up to anything more than an attention-grabbing sound. Nonetheless, those seeking an idiosyncratic, interesting art-funk band can do no wrong with this release, even if it ultimately falls short of any meaning beyond quirky experimentalism.
The angular, bass-heavy post-punk of A Certain Ratio could conceivably be compared to that of their Factory labelmates Joy Division (singer Simon Topping is a dead ringer vocally for Joy Division's Ian Curtis). One key difference is that A Certain Ratio has a more pronounced funk influence, which makes their music more danceable. Another difference is that Topping's lyrics, more abstract and even humorous (albeit in a dark, quirky way) are less dramatic than Curtis'. The Graveyard and the Ballroom, compiled from a collection of early four-track recordings and a set of live tracks (recorded when the band was opening for the Talking Heads), shows off A Certain Ratio's strengths well. The sound is surprisingly good for such lo-fi recordings, and the band is, for all of their musical amateurishness, rather precise and controlled. Unfortunately, that highlights a key flaw of the album: Too often, it is accomplished enough to be intriguing, but never all that gripping. By emphasizing rhythm over melody, A Certain Ratio makes music that is interesting and danceable, but not hugely compelling. It's mechanically well-played, with quirky, interesting lyrics that never really seem to add up to anything more than an attention-grabbing sound. Nonetheless, those seeking an idiosyncratic, interesting art-funk band can do no wrong with this release, even if it ultimately falls short of any meaning beyond quirky experimentalism.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:37 (thirteen years ago)
Bimble is missed here. Can just see his excited posts.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:40 (thirteen years ago)
Nonetheless, those seeking an idiosyncratic, interesting art-funk band can do no wrong with this release, even if it ultimately falls short of any meaning beyond quirky experimentalism.
lol ag arty cosmo sophisticated music
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:41 (thirteen years ago)
btw do the likes of Curtis, Sly & The Family Stone/Parliament/Funkadelic get any radio play on classic or oldies radio? Or any radio?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:42 (thirteen years ago)
392. A.R. & MACHINES A.R. IV (622 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #385 for 1973http://teddyspaceship.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/f.jpg
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:46 (thirteen years ago)
A psychedelic symphony of sorts, Achim Reichel and Machines’ 1973 release, IV, is one of the most impressive psychedelic records to have ever been released in Germany. Achim Reichel indulges his self-described “echo guitar” style wherein he composes music by overlaying repetitive and reverberated melodies. The entire record is essentially one entire track that is partitioned into four parts, or movements, that could unashamedly be described as a Baroque Suite on LSD. The music here accumulates as more and more instruments-among them recorder and a sports whistle-are incorporated, yet it never becomes convoluted-the record is only mellifluous and smooth, discretely transitioning into new melodies as it carries on. Tempo changes drastically and you never even notice-AR IV incorporates the listener into this narrative that the sound that it has devised. A.R. and Machines is another one of those outfits that could be considered to Krautrock what Krautrock was to German “Schlager”(an embarrassing rip-off of American acts such as Elvis Presley that existed in part due to Germany’s loss of cultural identity after WWII). You could consider this a revolution of the revolution. Even Achim Reichel’s lyrics are fantastic: “Wayyyyyy down yonder, in the vaginaaaaa of Earth!”Track Listing:Vita A: Cave Explorers + Birdmen (Höhlenforscher + Vogelmenschen)Vita B: The Man In Kidleather (Der Mann In Nappa)Vita C: Thin Is The Skin Of Ecstasy (Dünn Ist Die Haut Der Ekstase)Aqua: Every Raindrop Longs For The Sea (Jeder Tropfen Träumt Vom Meer) H₂OPersonnel:Achim Reichel- Composer, Mixer, Guitar [Echo]Hans Hartmann - Double BassHans Boche-DrumsClaus-Robert Kruse- Electric PianoHelmuth Franke-GuitarMatti Klatt -Percussion (tracks: A1a to A1c)Olaf Casalich -Percussion tracks: A1a to A1c)Frank Wulf -Recorder, Recorder [Bass], Sitar -(tracks: A1a to A1c)Jochen Petersen -Saxophone [Soprano], Flute
Track Listing:Vita A: Cave Explorers + Birdmen (Höhlenforscher + Vogelmenschen)Vita B: The Man In Kidleather (Der Mann In Nappa)Vita C: Thin Is The Skin Of Ecstasy (Dünn Ist Die Haut Der Ekstase)Aqua: Every Raindrop Longs For The Sea (Jeder Tropfen Träumt Vom Meer) H₂O
Personnel:Achim Reichel- Composer, Mixer, Guitar [Echo]Hans Hartmann - Double BassHans Boche-DrumsClaus-Robert Kruse- Electric PianoHelmuth Franke-GuitarMatti Klatt -Percussion (tracks: A1a to A1c)Olaf Casalich -Percussion tracks: A1a to A1c)Frank Wulf -Recorder, Recorder [Bass], Sitar -(tracks: A1a to A1c)Jochen Petersen -Saxophone [Soprano], Flute
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:48 (thirteen years ago)
i just can't get into kraut rock. i've tried numerous times. maybe it's extra-musical reasons that prevent me from enjoying it
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:49 (thirteen years ago)
Wonder who will steal that quote for a d/n firstxp
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:49 (thirteen years ago)
why mordy?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, March 17, 2013 8:42 AM (5 minutes ago)
I'd imagine the frequency of rotation changes depending on what city your in but at least everywhere I've lived Sly comes on all the time. I don't think I've ever heard Funkadelic on the radio.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:50 (thirteen years ago)
Synthesizers killed his grandparents.
well it sounds very cold + impersonal + almost psychopathic in pathos terms to me - but i can also see why that might be a paratextual affectual response
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:51 (thirteen years ago)
haha what is it with "cold" in these polls. First la lechera and now you!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:51 (thirteen years ago)
was ll also referring to krautrock?
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:52 (thirteen years ago)
i'm really loving this curtis album btw so funky + awesome
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:53 (thirteen years ago)
i dont remember xp
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:54 (thirteen years ago)
I would agree that krautrock is "cold." But I would say to me its more introspective than impersonal and brooding and angst filled rather than psychopathic. Also its real spacey and psychedelic in a way that stuff like acid rock isn't.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:55 (thirteen years ago)
You prefer fun, mordy?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:55 (thirteen years ago)
i guess i prefer earthy psychedelics to spacey psychedelics
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:56 (thirteen years ago)
391. SWEET Desolation Boulevard (622 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #113 for 1974 , #4047 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/452/MI0001452484.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Bazooka-rock lives, even without Chapman and Chinn. In the absence of Slade (whose failure to participate on the recent LP that bears their name must be considered disquieting), these guys play second-bill steamroller to Kiss. B- -- R. ChristgauSide two is devoted to the Sweet's own compositions, reinforcing their tag of "a bubblegum Led Zeppelin." Guitarist Andy Stott is given much more freedom in teh band's lengthier, more experimental format, bending his axe into bizarre contortions a la the Yardbirds-era Jeff Beck on "Sweet F.A.," riffing out submachine-gun riffs on "Set Me Free" and using intervals to create a full, forceful and effective solo on "Into the NIght." ...The Sweet has combined two divergent musical styles -- the tight, restricted control of Chapman and Chinn and the guitar-based experimentalism of their own compositions -- into an explosive package. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSSweet were originally dismissed for their bubblegum pop singles, which actually were pretty great. Basically, they matured into a great rock band that spanned from glam to metal to progressive pop. Like Sweet Fanny Adams from that same year, Desolation Boulevard was loaded with hits like “The Six Teens,” “Fox On The Run” and “Teenage Rampage.” “Medussa” was never a hit, but it’s one of their most unique accomplishments, a jaw-dropping experiment in psychedelica that deftly mixes prog and metal. -- Fastnbulbous
Side two is devoted to the Sweet's own compositions, reinforcing their tag of "a bubblegum Led Zeppelin." Guitarist Andy Stott is given much more freedom in teh band's lengthier, more experimental format, bending his axe into bizarre contortions a la the Yardbirds-era Jeff Beck on "Sweet F.A.," riffing out submachine-gun riffs on "Set Me Free" and using intervals to create a full, forceful and effective solo on "Into the NIght." ...The Sweet has combined two divergent musical styles -- the tight, restricted control of Chapman and Chinn and the guitar-based experimentalism of their own compositions -- into an explosive package. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
Sweet were originally dismissed for their bubblegum pop singles, which actually were pretty great. Basically, they matured into a great rock band that spanned from glam to metal to progressive pop. Like Sweet Fanny Adams from that same year, Desolation Boulevard was loaded with hits like “The Six Teens,” “Fox On The Run” and “Teenage Rampage.” “Medussa” was never a hit, but it’s one of their most unique accomplishments, a jaw-dropping experiment in psychedelica that deftly mixes prog and metal. -- Fastnbulbous
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineSweet hit the peak of their powers on Desolation Boulevard, a wonderfully lightweight collection of fizzy melodies and big, dumb hooks. Essentially, the album consists of three dynamic singles buoyed by a bunch of filler, but those singles -- "Ballroom Blitz," "The 6-Teens," and "Fox on the Run" -- are addictive slices of bubblegum glam rock. And the filler is ridiculously silly and enjoyable, with "Sweet F.A.," "I Wanna Be Committed," and "No You Don't" sounding like a kind of bizarre prototype for the Ramones' punky bubblegum (only without the irony, of course). Although the filler is relatively strong, there are a number of weak patches on Desolation Boulevard, but it remains an intoxicatingly fun record and one that sounds surprisingly fresh, even with all of its kitschy '70s production techniques.
Sweet hit the peak of their powers on Desolation Boulevard, a wonderfully lightweight collection of fizzy melodies and big, dumb hooks. Essentially, the album consists of three dynamic singles buoyed by a bunch of filler, but those singles -- "Ballroom Blitz," "The 6-Teens," and "Fox on the Run" -- are addictive slices of bubblegum glam rock. And the filler is ridiculously silly and enjoyable, with "Sweet F.A.," "I Wanna Be Committed," and "No You Don't" sounding like a kind of bizarre prototype for the Ramones' punky bubblegum (only without the irony, of course). Although the filler is relatively strong, there are a number of weak patches on Desolation Boulevard, but it remains an intoxicatingly fun record and one that sounds surprisingly fresh, even with all of its kitschy '70s production techniques.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:57 (thirteen years ago)
i don't think there's any space [genre] band that i've really enjoyed
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:57 (thirteen years ago)
maybe it has something to do w/ rhythm?
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:58 (thirteen years ago)
is there any krautrock that u guys think i'd like? like i said, i've tried to get into it a bunch of times but it has never clicked
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 15:59 (thirteen years ago)
Not even Can?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:00 (thirteen years ago)
not even can
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:00 (thirteen years ago)
Check out Future Days
oh
Yes! Sweet! Too bad this albums no up on spotify.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:00 (thirteen years ago)
well play it again anyway
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:01 (thirteen years ago)
Future Days - even the title turns me off
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:01 (thirteen years ago)
silly mordy
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
yes i hate it it is already giving me a headache.
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
it's like boring into my temples so painful
I like the most extreme synthy spacey stuff I can find so I wouldn't be able to help you much but maybe you'd like the track Sequence C by Tangerine Dream.
Here it is:http://open.spotify.com/track/5Zh11DfB8It4mBf7Dx4PMu
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
nevermind that is totally not the track I was thinking of.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:04 (thirteen years ago)
390. JANE Together (627 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #175 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/596/MI0001596864.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
The history of Jane goes back a long way. Originally, the roots of Jane emerge out of the Hannover beat scene in the late-1960's, from a group called Justice Of Peace, who then became The JP's. Obviously a lot had changed by the time they were renamed Jane, as they were the first of a new breed of progressives, hot on the heels of Pink Floyd but playing such music with a more Teutonic heavy progressive style featuring strong songs, thick wedges of keyboards and guitars.Their debut album TOGETHER was a very powerful and trippy album fronted by the unusual blues singer Bernd Pulst, with a music adrift with swirling organ, great riffs, and a unique twist on the Dave Gilmour type of guitar sound. A little towards the realms of classic Frumpy, but spacier. -- Cosmic Egg
review[-] by Mike DeGagneInundated with every characteristic of progressive rock, Germany's Jane combined elements of jazz fusion, space rock, and even heavy metal at times to come up with a sound that was always exciting and never restrained. On 1972's Together, they fabricate a sound that combines the percussiveness of hard rock with the expansive wandering of makeshift melodies, all kept intact by the vocals of Berndt Pulst, who luckily doesn't have to be a great singer thanks to the intricacies of the organ and flute that are widely predominant. Nonetheless, this debut album offers up some engaging prog rock through the freestyled transience of the lead and bass guitars. The full 12 minutes of "Spain" is punctuated with some stellar drum playing via Peter Panka and some interesting singing from bass player Charly Maucher near the end. Showing signs that their music will gain experimental momentum in future albums (and it did), the placid eeriness that is germinated in "Daytime" and "Hangman" prove that Jane have their roots firmly planted in the space rock and Krautrock genres, only to evolve into other avant-garde areas later in the '70s on albums like Here We Go and Fire, Water, Earth & Air. As one of the most popular bands on the progressively oriented Brain label, Jane's exploratory brand of guitar/organ/percussion based music is well-established throughout these six tracks.
Inundated with every characteristic of progressive rock, Germany's Jane combined elements of jazz fusion, space rock, and even heavy metal at times to come up with a sound that was always exciting and never restrained. On 1972's Together, they fabricate a sound that combines the percussiveness of hard rock with the expansive wandering of makeshift melodies, all kept intact by the vocals of Berndt Pulst, who luckily doesn't have to be a great singer thanks to the intricacies of the organ and flute that are widely predominant. Nonetheless, this debut album offers up some engaging prog rock through the freestyled transience of the lead and bass guitars. The full 12 minutes of "Spain" is punctuated with some stellar drum playing via Peter Panka and some interesting singing from bass player Charly Maucher near the end. Showing signs that their music will gain experimental momentum in future albums (and it did), the placid eeriness that is germinated in "Daytime" and "Hangman" prove that Jane have their roots firmly planted in the space rock and Krautrock genres, only to evolve into other avant-garde areas later in the '70s on albums like Here We Go and Fire, Water, Earth & Air. As one of the most popular bands on the progressively oriented Brain label, Jane's exploratory brand of guitar/organ/percussion based music is well-established throughout these six tracks.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:05 (thirteen years ago)
lol I was just thinking of Vitamin C by Can. I think that's pretty earthy!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:05 (thirteen years ago)
Never heard of Jane but it seems intriguing!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:09 (thirteen years ago)
fuck it I'm gonna s0u1s33k it.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:13 (thirteen years ago)
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, March 17, 2013 11:50 AM (21 minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
I've heard Sly and Curtis on Chicago "classic rock" and oldies stations. But in the northeast, you might hear Sly on an oldies station, and that's it. The last time I heard any P-Funk on the radio, aside from college stations, was when "Atomic Dog" was a hit.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:14 (thirteen years ago)
oh man ag otm re self-titled curtis. this album is amazing.
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:14 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, March 17, 2013 10:51 AM (27 minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
― Mordy, Sunday, March 17, 2013 10:52 AM (26 minutes ago) Bookmark
No! I was referring to Warm Leatherette. which is totally not warm whatsoever. The krautrock I like best is v warm, and I'm less into the robotic stuff. La Dusseldorf is a perfect combo of warm and cold krautrock sounds imo.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:23 (thirteen years ago)
"Dance to the Music," "Everyday People," and "Hot Fun in the Summertime" are the biggest U.S. oldies radio staples, I think.
― timellison, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:26 (thirteen years ago)
everywhere I've lived Sly comes on all the time.
Really? On what stations? I never hear any of these (Curtis/Sly/P-Funk) on classic rock stations. Maybe they could get some play on urban stations (which are a little lesson common in Canada than in the US) or Jack-style stations?? I've mostly been exposed to them via ILM and the York library tbh. When I lived near Detroit, though, I did hear this stuff on radio but I thought that was a Detroit thing.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:26 (thirteen years ago)
Not on Jack stations. Oldies format stations - we have one in San Diego that's pretty '70s oriented with some '60s and some '80s.
― timellison, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:27 (thirteen years ago)
http://www.walrusfm.com/pages/main
― timellison, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:29 (thirteen years ago)
for the past few years there seems to have been a weird lack of pre-Off The Wall black music on Atlanta radio. maybe I'm just not looking in the right places.
― C: (crüt), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:30 (thirteen years ago)
(other than college radio stations)
― timellison,
Yeah I hear Sly on the 70s Gold stations. Classic Rock stations hardly ever plays anything funky at all.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:34 (thirteen years ago)
Old school R&B station where I live might play "Family Affair."
― timellison, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:37 (thirteen years ago)
389. THROBBING GRISTLE The Second Annual Report (629 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #119 for 1977http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/368/MI0002368196.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Raised on William S. Burroughs and Philip K. Dick, and inhabiting a science-fiction-now world of industrial depression, Britain's prolific Throbbing Gristle produced some of the most confrontational and unpleasantly fascinating music of recent years, ostensibly as a means to radicalize the listener into abandoning bourgeois romanticism for a realistic view of life. Second Annual Report (the quartet's first release) uses mournful synthesizer drones to paint a grimly powerful vision of post-industrial, mid-depression England. -- Trouser Press
A proper debut of sorts, Second Annual Report includes several versions each (some live) of early Throbbing Gristle standards like "Slug Bait" and "Maggot Death," as well as an "Industrial Introduction" and the soundtrack work "After Cease to Exist." The music is relentless, grinding distortion, only occasionally leavened by vocal samples and percussion.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:38 (thirteen years ago)
bet no radio touches throbbing gristle
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:39 (thirteen years ago)
388. MAGMA Üdü Ẁüdü (629 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #70 for 1976 , #3812 overallhttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WW425K5glz4/T1v3cj4dVCI/AAAAAAAABRk/MXju4GN7HHw/s1600/794881907922.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/32EmgSe0rfXvdRL96Pkofv
With Udü Wüdü, Vander began another change in direction, one that would gradually transform Magma's sound into something approaching crossover pop. The title track has a quaint rhythm box-generated Latin beat, and the album employs an array of analog synthesizers. Bassist Bernard Paganotti (who left Magma during the recording to form a band of his own) contributed the uncharacteristically optimistic "Weidorje." With crushing bass and heavy, syncopated drums, Jannik Top's "De Futura" is an 18-minute, funky tour de force, which has had a significant impact on today's "brutal prog" scene (groups like Flying Luttenbachers and Ruins). -- Trouser PressThe albums after Köntarkösz do have some insanely great moments, but as time moves on they get increasingly few and far between. Two particular albums, though, must be appraised for their hidden genius. On 1976’s extremely patchy Udu Wudu, Christian Vander even attempted to trump the death of his mighty ensemble by letting Jannik Top entirely lose on the berserker magic of the side-long epic "De Futura". But a Magma in which Jannik held sway was a Magma in which Klaus Blasquiz was returned to his Igjugurjuk/Michael Ryan role. And I do believe even he himself recognised this, the vocal credit on Udu Wudu’s "Zombies" merely reading "Klaus Blasquiz - growl". For me, Udu Wudu fails not because Magma has become a kind of augmented power trio - that’s fine, and Blasquiz, Top and Vander makes an almighty machine - but because it’s really a return to jazz rock. Clothe it any Teutonic or Utopian way you wish and I still can’t stand the stuff. -- J. Cope
The albums after Köntarkösz do have some insanely great moments, but as time moves on they get increasingly few and far between. Two particular albums, though, must be appraised for their hidden genius. On 1976’s extremely patchy Udu Wudu, Christian Vander even attempted to trump the death of his mighty ensemble by letting Jannik Top entirely lose on the berserker magic of the side-long epic "De Futura". But a Magma in which Jannik held sway was a Magma in which Klaus Blasquiz was returned to his Igjugurjuk/Michael Ryan role. And I do believe even he himself recognised this, the vocal credit on Udu Wudu’s "Zombies" merely reading "Klaus Blasquiz - growl". For me, Udu Wudu fails not because Magma has become a kind of augmented power trio - that’s fine, and Blasquiz, Top and Vander makes an almighty machine - but because it’s really a return to jazz rock. Clothe it any Teutonic or Utopian way you wish and I still can’t stand the stuff. -- J. Cope
review[-] by Dominique LeoneUdu Wudu is the fragmented follow-up to Magma's successful 1976 Live set. Leader Christian Vander relinquished some control over the group for this album, only writing about half the music. From the start, the signature Magma sound is noticeably different, to which the quaint rhythm box-generated Latin beat flavoring the title track attests. Also, synthesizers are used throughout the album (to varying degrees of success) and most of the songs are short (three to four minutes) with simple, almost catchy melodies. Bassist Bernard Paganotti wrote "Weidorje." Heavy synths date this tune, and the rather mellow, optimistic vibe (which it shares with the title track) does seem uncharacteristic of a band known for singing about the end of the world. During the course of recording, Paganotti would leave Magma to form his own band, named after this song. Perhaps the most significant aspect of the album lies in the compositions of bassist Jannick Top. "Soleil D'Ork" and especially "De Futura" perfectly capture the simultaneous joy and doom of all the best Magma music. "De Futura" is an 18-minute, funky tour de force. This piece practically invented the "brutal prog" scene (à la groups like Flying Luttenbachers and Ruins) with its crushing bass and heavy, syncopated drums. That is not to say that it's chaotic or disjointed, but there is definitely a primal aggression at work here that Magma rarely approached; it's fierce and fun.Since it came immediately after the almost universally praised Live in Magma's discography, prog aficionados often underrate this album. Truthfully, it is not in the higher pantheon of the band's work; it lacks the cohesion of their earlier releases and veers away from the Kobaian legacy that had informed most of the band's strangeness. Synthesizers and shorter songs may have been concessions to the times or may have just been a breath of fresh air for the band. Whatever the case, the album has enough to offer that fans should investigate it.
Udu Wudu is the fragmented follow-up to Magma's successful 1976 Live set. Leader Christian Vander relinquished some control over the group for this album, only writing about half the music. From the start, the signature Magma sound is noticeably different, to which the quaint rhythm box-generated Latin beat flavoring the title track attests. Also, synthesizers are used throughout the album (to varying degrees of success) and most of the songs are short (three to four minutes) with simple, almost catchy melodies. Bassist Bernard Paganotti wrote "Weidorje." Heavy synths date this tune, and the rather mellow, optimistic vibe (which it shares with the title track) does seem uncharacteristic of a band known for singing about the end of the world. During the course of recording, Paganotti would leave Magma to form his own band, named after this song. Perhaps the most significant aspect of the album lies in the compositions of bassist Jannick Top. "Soleil D'Ork" and especially "De Futura" perfectly capture the simultaneous joy and doom of all the best Magma music. "De Futura" is an 18-minute, funky tour de force. This piece practically invented the "brutal prog" scene (à la groups like Flying Luttenbachers and Ruins) with its crushing bass and heavy, syncopated drums. That is not to say that it's chaotic or disjointed, but there is definitely a primal aggression at work here that Magma rarely approached; it's fierce and fun.
Since it came immediately after the almost universally praised Live in Magma's discography, prog aficionados often underrate this album. Truthfully, it is not in the higher pantheon of the band's work; it lacks the cohesion of their earlier releases and veers away from the Kobaian legacy that had informed most of the band's strangeness. Synthesizers and shorter songs may have been concessions to the times or may have just been a breath of fresh air for the band. Whatever the case, the album has enough to offer that fans should investigate it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:52 (thirteen years ago)
hohohoho now this is an album!! Too Low for sure!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:54 (thirteen years ago)
There shouldn't be any shouts of too low then since it seems people dont really rate this album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:55 (thirteen years ago)
oh too late
If you're really interested in North American radio formats, AG, here are some playlists from Canadian stations:
Classic rock:http://www.q107.com/BroadcastHistory.aspxhttp://www.chez106.com/on-air/playlists-charts/
Jack:http://www.jackfm.com/on-air/playlists-charts/
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:56 (thirteen years ago)
"brutal prog"
http://media.lunch.com/d/d7/168197.jpg?2
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:57 (thirteen years ago)
Tbh, that actually looks a little better than I remember Q107 being. Some stations branch out a little on Sundays.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:57 (thirteen years ago)
I guess its not the best Magma album, but it's really good.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 16:59 (thirteen years ago)
387. FRANK ZAPPA Apostrophe (629 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #19 for 1974 , #726 overall | Acclaimed: #2588http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/405/MI0001405607.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1GaM0qXhH63ZEWo9W8VSrL
Disillusioned acolytes are complaining that he's retreated, which means he's finally made top ten, but that's just his reward for professional persistence. If anything, the satire's improved a little, and the title piece--an improvisation with Jack Bruce, Jim Gordon, and rhythm guitarist Tony Duran--forays into quartet-style jazz-rock. Given Frank's distaste for "Cosmik Debris" you'd think maybe he's come up with something earthier than Mahavishnu, but given his distaste for sex you can be sure it's more cerebral instead. B- -- R. Christgau
reviewby Steve HueyThe musically similar follow-up to the commercial breakthrough of Over-Nite Sensation, Apostrophe became Frank Zappa's second gold and only Top Ten album with the help of the "doggy wee-wee" jokes of "Don't Eat the Yellow Snow," Zappa's first chart single (a longer, edited version that used portions of other songs on the LP). The first half of the album is full of nonsensical shaggy-dog story songs that segue into one another without seeming to finish themselves first; their dirty jokes are generally more subtle and veiled than the more notorious cuts on Over-Nite Sensation. The second half contains the instrumental title cut, featuring Jack Bruce on bass; "Uncle Remus," an update of Zappa's critique of racial discord on "Trouble Every Day"; and a return to the album's earlier silliness in "Stink-Foot." Apostrophe has the narrative feel of a concept album, but aside from its willful absurdity, the concept is difficult to decipher; even so, that doesn't detract from its entertainment value.
The musically similar follow-up to the commercial breakthrough of Over-Nite Sensation, Apostrophe became Frank Zappa's second gold and only Top Ten album with the help of the "doggy wee-wee" jokes of "Don't Eat the Yellow Snow," Zappa's first chart single (a longer, edited version that used portions of other songs on the LP). The first half of the album is full of nonsensical shaggy-dog story songs that segue into one another without seeming to finish themselves first; their dirty jokes are generally more subtle and veiled than the more notorious cuts on Over-Nite Sensation. The second half contains the instrumental title cut, featuring Jack Bruce on bass; "Uncle Remus," an update of Zappa's critique of racial discord on "Trouble Every Day"; and a return to the album's earlier silliness in "Stink-Foot." Apostrophe has the narrative feel of a concept album, but aside from its willful absurdity, the concept is difficult to decipher; even so, that doesn't detract from its entertainment value.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:02 (thirteen years ago)
thanks sund4r i shall check that out
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:04 (thirteen years ago)
sorry I had to leave the house for a bit but I am back
way behind but I really love The Sweet! Though they're v frustrating as an album band - killer singles but some of their filler is just DIRE. I hate to say it but sometimes I feel like they're a better singles/compilation band than an album band.
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:04 (thirteen years ago)
really? as i said earlier I know a ton of people who love their albums and say its better than a lot of their best known material (they were fans at the time)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:05 (thirteen years ago)
maybe I'm an outlier then. I've never found anything album-wise that lived up to the awesomeness of the big singles for me
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:07 (thirteen years ago)
Goddammit, I love Udu Wudu!
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:10 (thirteen years ago)
yeah, that magma is way too low. maybe not the best, but probably the second best. I voted attahk but I thought we could only vote one per band so I screwed up. Cheap Trick In Color also way too low. A Certain Ratio much too high.
― wk, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:10 (thirteen years ago)
385. RAMONES Leave Home (629 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #18 for 1977 , #547 overall | Acclaimed: #870http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/070/MI0002070007.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
People who consider this a one-joke band aren't going to change their minds now. People who love the joke for its power, wit, and economy will be happy to hear it twice. Hint: read the lyrics. A -- R. ChristgauThe slightly glossier Leave Home is cut from the same cloth: another Ramones' dozen (fourteen hits) and under a half-hour in length. The band's warped Top 40 aspirations emerge on "I Remember You" and "Swallow My Pride," sandwiched between such anthems as "Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment" and "Pinhead." Like "Let's Dance" on Ramones, "California Sun" relates the band to the pandemic moronity that has always informed the best rock'n'roll. -- Trouser Press
The slightly glossier Leave Home is cut from the same cloth: another Ramones' dozen (fourteen hits) and under a half-hour in length. The band's warped Top 40 aspirations emerge on "I Remember You" and "Swallow My Pride," sandwiched between such anthems as "Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment" and "Pinhead." Like "Let's Dance" on Ramones, "California Sun" relates the band to the pandemic moronity that has always informed the best rock'n'roll. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineOf course the Ramones' second album, Leave Home, is simply more of the same -- 14 songs, including one oldie ("California Sun"), delivered at breakneck speed and concluding in under a half-hour. the Ramones have gotten slightly poppier, occasionally delivering songs like "I Remember You" that are cloaked neither in irony nor seedy rock & roll chic. Still, the biggest impressions are made by the cuts that strongly recall the debut, whether it's the ersatz Beach Boys of "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker," the singalong of "Pinhead," or the warped anthems "Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment" and "Commando." Song for song, it's slightly weaker than its predecessor, but the handful of mediocre cuts speed by so fast that you don't really notice its weaknesses until after it's all over.
Of course the Ramones' second album, Leave Home, is simply more of the same -- 14 songs, including one oldie ("California Sun"), delivered at breakneck speed and concluding in under a half-hour. the Ramones have gotten slightly poppier, occasionally delivering songs like "I Remember You" that are cloaked neither in irony nor seedy rock & roll chic. Still, the biggest impressions are made by the cuts that strongly recall the debut, whether it's the ersatz Beach Boys of "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker," the singalong of "Pinhead," or the warped anthems "Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment" and "Commando." Song for song, it's slightly weaker than its predecessor, but the handful of mediocre cuts speed by so fast that you don't really notice its weaknesses until after it's all over.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:11 (thirteen years ago)
385. JOHN CALE & TERRY RILEY Church of Anthrax (629 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #351 for 1971http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_fb1oKCKecM/TfhG9o2MBoI/AAAAAAAACd0/md7LrFD2_a0/s1600/John%2BCale%2B%2526%2BTerry%2BRiley%2BChurch%2Bof%2BAnthrax.jpg
I was impressed to come upon this collaboration between Riley, whose pop avant-garde meditation, A Rainbow in Curved Air, inspired me to concoct the term "semipopular music," and Cale, whose pop avant-garde rock group, the Velvet Underground, should have done the same. Bet the people at CBS were impressed, too. So impressed they put out an album of keyboard doodles posing as improvisations. C -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stewart MasonA one-time-only collaboration between former Velvet Underground co-founder John Cale and minimalist composer Terry Riley, 1971's Church of Anthrax doesn't sound too much like the solo work of either. Around this time, Riley's works were along the lines of "A Rainbow in Curved Air" or "Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band": pattern music with an obsessive attention to repetition and tricks with an analogue delay machine that gave his music a refractory, almost hallucinogenic quality. Though Cale was trained in a similar aesthetic (he played with La Monte Young, surely the most minimal of all minimalist composers), he had largely left it behind by 1971, and so Church of Anthrax mixes Riley's drones and patterns with a more muscular and melodic bent versed in both free jazz and experimental rock. Not quite modern classical music, but not at all rock & roll either, Church of Anthrax sounds in retrospect like it was a huge influence on later post-minimalist composers like Andrew Poppy, Wim Mertens, and Michael Nyman, who mix similar doses of minimalism, rock, and jazz. On its own merits, the album is always interesting, and the centerpiece "The Hall of Mirrors in the Palace at Versailles" is probably the point where Riley and Cale approach each other on the most equal footing. The low point is Cale's solo writing credit, "The Soul of Patrick Lee," a slight vocal interlude by Adam Miller that feels out of place in these surroundings.
A one-time-only collaboration between former Velvet Underground co-founder John Cale and minimalist composer Terry Riley, 1971's Church of Anthrax doesn't sound too much like the solo work of either. Around this time, Riley's works were along the lines of "A Rainbow in Curved Air" or "Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band": pattern music with an obsessive attention to repetition and tricks with an analogue delay machine that gave his music a refractory, almost hallucinogenic quality. Though Cale was trained in a similar aesthetic (he played with La Monte Young, surely the most minimal of all minimalist composers), he had largely left it behind by 1971, and so Church of Anthrax mixes Riley's drones and patterns with a more muscular and melodic bent versed in both free jazz and experimental rock. Not quite modern classical music, but not at all rock & roll either, Church of Anthrax sounds in retrospect like it was a huge influence on later post-minimalist composers like Andrew Poppy, Wim Mertens, and Michael Nyman, who mix similar doses of minimalism, rock, and jazz. On its own merits, the album is always interesting, and the centerpiece "The Hall of Mirrors in the Palace at Versailles" is probably the point where Riley and Cale approach each other on the most equal footing. The low point is Cale's solo writing credit, "The Soul of Patrick Lee," a slight vocal interlude by Adam Miller that feels out of place in these surroundings.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:27 (thirteen years ago)
Does anyone really love the Ramones who aren't 14?
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:29 (thirteen years ago)
384. LYNYRD SKYNYRD (pronounced 'lĕh-'nérd 'skin-'nérd) (634 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #13 for 1973 , #427 overall | Acclaimed: #659 | RS #401http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/750/MI0001750419.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/57GMEh9tkmc1TGs4rcdVhN
Lacking both hippie roots and virtuosos, post-Allmanites like ZZ Top, Marshall Tucker, and Wet Willie become transcendently boring except when they get off a good song. But in this staunchly untranscendent band, lack of virtuosos is a virtue, because it inspires good songs, songs that often debunk good-old-boy shibboleths. Examples: "Poison Whiskey," "Mississippi Kid," and "Gimme Three Steps," whee Ronnie Van Zant, instead of outwitting the dumb redneck the way onetime Dylan sideman Charlie Daniels does in "Uneasy Rider," just hightails it out of there. Savvy production from onetime Dylan sideman Al Kooper. A -- R. ChristgauSkynyrd broadly fit into the hard-driving improvisational blues format pioneered by the Allman Brothers, although the band's welcome bent for brevity keeps most of the tracks tight and to the point. On the other hand, their nine-minute "Freebird" jumps out of the group's debut LP: It offers a tour of blues guitar expertise, conducted by Allen Collins and to riveting effect. In fact, Skynyrd work with three lead guitarists, a density of stringy instrumentation at times recalling Byrds as much as Allmans.Eclectic (a shared predilection for much Southern rock), Skynyrd leans on everyone from Rolling Stones ("Tuesday's Gone") and Ry Cooder ("Things Goin' On") to Lovin' Spoonful ("Gimme Three Steps"). Lead singer Ronnie Van Zant mostly sounds like Keith Relf imitating Mick Jagger, Al Kooper's unobstrusively dapper production emphasizes the English connection with ever an eye to poppy parts, a mellotron here, electric 12-string there. But the blunter blues tracks form the album's meat with cuts like "Simple Man" revealing a no-nonsense powerhouse rock unit of modest proportions but considerable promise. -- Jim MIller, RS
Skynyrd broadly fit into the hard-driving improvisational blues format pioneered by the Allman Brothers, although the band's welcome bent for brevity keeps most of the tracks tight and to the point. On the other hand, their nine-minute "Freebird" jumps out of the group's debut LP: It offers a tour of blues guitar expertise, conducted by Allen Collins and to riveting effect. In fact, Skynyrd work with three lead guitarists, a density of stringy instrumentation at times recalling Byrds as much as Allmans.
Eclectic (a shared predilection for much Southern rock), Skynyrd leans on everyone from Rolling Stones ("Tuesday's Gone") and Ry Cooder ("Things Goin' On") to Lovin' Spoonful ("Gimme Three Steps"). Lead singer Ronnie Van Zant mostly sounds like Keith Relf imitating Mick Jagger, Al Kooper's unobstrusively dapper production emphasizes the English connection with ever an eye to poppy parts, a mellotron here, electric 12-string there. But the blunter blues tracks form the album's meat with cuts like "Simple Man" revealing a no-nonsense powerhouse rock unit of modest proportions but considerable promise. -- Jim MIller, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineThe Allman Brothers came first, but Lynyrd Skynyrd epitomized Southern rock. The Allmans were exceptionally gifted musicians, as much bluesmen as rockers. Skynyrd was nothing but rockers, and they were Southern rockers to the bone. This didn't just mean that they were rednecks, but that they brought it all together -- the blues, country, garage rock, Southern poetry -- in a way that sounded more like the South than even The Allmans. And a large portion of that derives from their hard, lean edge, which was nowhere more apparent than on their debut album, Pronounced Leh-Nerd Skin-Nerd. Produced by Al Kooper, there are few records that sound this raw and uncompromising, especially records by debut bands. Then again, few bands sound this confident and fully formed with their first record. Perhaps the record is stronger because it's only eight songs, so there isn't a wasted moment, but that doesn't discount the sheer strength of each song. Consider the opening juxtaposition of the rollicking "I Ain't the One" with the heartbreaking "Tuesday's Gone." Two songs couldn't be more opposed, yet Skynyrd sounds equally convincing on both. If that's all the record did, it would still be fondly regarded, but it wouldn't have been influential. The genius of Skynyrd is that they un-self-consciously blended album-oriented hard rock, blues, country, and garage rock, turning it all into a distinctive sound that sounds familiar but thoroughly unique. On top of that, there's the highly individual voice of Ronnie Van Zant, a songwriter who isn't afraid to be nakedly sentimental, spin tales of the South, or to twist macho conventions with humor. And, lest we forget, while he does this, the band rocks like a motherf*cker. It's the birth of a great band that birthed an entire genre with this album.
The Allman Brothers came first, but Lynyrd Skynyrd epitomized Southern rock. The Allmans were exceptionally gifted musicians, as much bluesmen as rockers. Skynyrd was nothing but rockers, and they were Southern rockers to the bone. This didn't just mean that they were rednecks, but that they brought it all together -- the blues, country, garage rock, Southern poetry -- in a way that sounded more like the South than even The Allmans. And a large portion of that derives from their hard, lean edge, which was nowhere more apparent than on their debut album, Pronounced Leh-Nerd Skin-Nerd. Produced by Al Kooper, there are few records that sound this raw and uncompromising, especially records by debut bands. Then again, few bands sound this confident and fully formed with their first record. Perhaps the record is stronger because it's only eight songs, so there isn't a wasted moment, but that doesn't discount the sheer strength of each song. Consider the opening juxtaposition of the rollicking "I Ain't the One" with the heartbreaking "Tuesday's Gone." Two songs couldn't be more opposed, yet Skynyrd sounds equally convincing on both. If that's all the record did, it would still be fondly regarded, but it wouldn't have been influential. The genius of Skynyrd is that they un-self-consciously blended album-oriented hard rock, blues, country, and garage rock, turning it all into a distinctive sound that sounds familiar but thoroughly unique. On top of that, there's the highly individual voice of Ronnie Van Zant, a songwriter who isn't afraid to be nakedly sentimental, spin tales of the South, or to twist macho conventions with humor. And, lest we forget, while he does this, the band rocks like a motherf*cker. It's the birth of a great band that birthed an entire genre with this album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:33 (thirteen years ago)
xpost ME
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:33 (thirteen years ago)
Wow I can't believe X-gau gave this an A.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:34 (thirteen years ago)
Everyone I know who loves the Ramones is older than 14.
For that matter, everyone I know who is older than 14 loves the Ramones.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:35 (thirteen years ago)
I just cant get into this band yet I really like those 2 obvious songs
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:35 (thirteen years ago)
SKYNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYRRRRDD
fuckin love these guys
First album is great -- though imo I prefer the Complete Muscle Shoals that the debut was comprised of. Studio version of Freebird is beautiful -- amazing to think that a piano player like that was just a shy roadie before this album
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:36 (thirteen years ago)
and his argument for it being great is that it lacks imagination. WTFLOLOMGBBQ!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:37 (thirteen years ago)
I don't understand not getting into Skynyrd. I mean, I know it's a common thing but they're seriously one of my top 5 bands. SO fuckin tight. You listen to the early live stuff and you can tell that the endless touring before they ever recorded a thing paid off. Ronnie was like a drill sergeant with those boys and it paid off in spades.
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:39 (thirteen years ago)
Christgau isn't saying they lack imagination. He's saying that they lack any one part of the band that could outshine anyone else. ALL Skynyrd band members are killer at their jobs but they aren't there to make you notice them. That's why they're great. That's why they fit in so well with the Swampers at Muscle Shoals. They're workhorses, and they make simplicity seem simple when it's not.
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:40 (thirteen years ago)
but anyway I like Skynyrd and I think bullshit about them being "staunchly untranscendent" is pretty silly, they weren't some honkey tonk bar band bullshit which is quite evident if you listen to this album.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:42 (thirteen years ago)
Oh I get what you're saying Veg. I think people say the same thing about The Band, who I find really boring.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:43 (thirteen years ago)
xpost but Skynyrd *were* a honky tonk bar band. and that's what made them great!
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:43 (thirteen years ago)
title of my next record: pronounced 'lie-'nérd 'sky-'nérd
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:44 (thirteen years ago)
xgau's review def sounds like a backhanded compliment coming from him, I get what you're saying -- he makes me crazy because I do often like the meat of what he says, i just go insane with the way he expresses it sometimes lol
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
I disagree, but whatevs.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
i love the reviews + stuff
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:46 (thirteen years ago)
Oooh forgot to vote for Church of Anthrax but it is sooooooo goooooood -- I was obsessed with The Soul of Patrick Lee like a crazy person for a while there. Great great album.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:46 (thirteen years ago)
mordy otm everyone thank fastnbulbous for his hard work tracking this stuff down. I know how exhausting it is. Hes actually typing out the RS reviews!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:48 (thirteen years ago)
wow thanks fastnbulbous
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:48 (thirteen years ago)
talking about the band i didnt like them at first and i gave them a listen a few years ago and finally got into it.I'll give those debut albums by lynyrd skynyrd and cheap trick a listen at some point.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:50 (thirteen years ago)
Now for one of my faves..
yeah thanks FnB... unfortunately I am out for the day now so this next section will be comment free from me. Some really great stuff today already though!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:51 (thirteen years ago)
383. METERS Cabbage Alley (634 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #548 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/279/MI0000279540.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/32uHOn0HaFzgmW04fETOvu
Just what do these people want? They're still making up titles like "Gettin' Funkier All the Time," even singing one called "Do the Dirt." But they're also stretching out a catchy little number called "Stay Away" with what annotator Barry Hansen refers to gingerly as "some most unusual electronic adventures" and putting voice to Neil Young's "Birds" and their own "Lonesome and Unwanted People." And what can it mean that the catchiest little number of all has no words and two titles--"You've Got to Change (You've Got to Reform)"? B -- R. Christgau...the career of the Meters, from studio backup men to recording as a group to becoming a real group, with its own music and its own message, parallels that of the MGs. But rhythmically the Memphis Group most often depended on a comparatively strict backbeat, and Meters' drummer Zig Modeliste is able to impart more rhythmic variety to every bar than any American soul group has yet employed. The rest of the band often doubles on auxiliary percussion, resulting in a percussive complexity that is both a new and natural direction... -- Bob Palmer, RS
...the career of the Meters, from studio backup men to recording as a group to becoming a real group, with its own music and its own message, parallels that of the MGs. But rhythmically the Memphis Group most often depended on a comparatively strict backbeat, and Meters' drummer Zig Modeliste is able to impart more rhythmic variety to every bar than any American soul group has yet employed. The rest of the band often doubles on auxiliary percussion, resulting in a percussive complexity that is both a new and natural direction... -- Bob Palmer, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineLeaving Josie for Reprise did change the Meters, even if the change wasn't necessarily for the better. They became slicker, jammier, and, in the conventional sense, funkier, even if the grit seemed to start to dissipate. So, even if this is just the Meters' fourth album, Cabbage Alley does mark a sea-change in their outlook, bringing them fully into the '70s and finding them sacrificing feel for texture, even if that's a very subtle transition. Part of the problem is that the group doesn't really have any good songs to hang their sounds onto, but, if you're looking just for sounds and groove, Cabbage Alley doesn't disappoint. the Meters' overall feel might have gotten a little softer than necessary, but they still are a remarkably sympathetic, supple group and it's a pleasure to hear them play. Still, there's not much here outside of hearing them play, and while that's pretty great, it's hard not to wish that there were songs, even when they delve into smooth soul like "Birds" or when the group simply jams on mid-tempo grooves, that stood out from the pack. [Sundazed's 2000 reissue contains two bonus tracks -- both parts of "Chug Chug Chug-A-Lug (Push and Shove)."]
Leaving Josie for Reprise did change the Meters, even if the change wasn't necessarily for the better. They became slicker, jammier, and, in the conventional sense, funkier, even if the grit seemed to start to dissipate. So, even if this is just the Meters' fourth album, Cabbage Alley does mark a sea-change in their outlook, bringing them fully into the '70s and finding them sacrificing feel for texture, even if that's a very subtle transition. Part of the problem is that the group doesn't really have any good songs to hang their sounds onto, but, if you're looking just for sounds and groove, Cabbage Alley doesn't disappoint. the Meters' overall feel might have gotten a little softer than necessary, but they still are a remarkably sympathetic, supple group and it's a pleasure to hear them play. Still, there's not much here outside of hearing them play, and while that's pretty great, it's hard not to wish that there were songs, even when they delve into smooth soul like "Birds" or when the group simply jams on mid-tempo grooves, that stood out from the pack. [Sundazed's 2000 reissue contains two bonus tracks -- both parts of "Chug Chug Chug-A-Lug (Push and Shove)."]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:53 (thirteen years ago)
nice work FnB -- definitely adds something to the poll results beyond the usual stats and youtube links
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:53 (thirteen years ago)
now if that was too low this is waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too low but I urge every single person reading this to check this album out...
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 17:59 (thirteen years ago)
382. SLAVE The Concept (635 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #718 for 1978http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ROKjUh0Q1Q/T5JNpba_p_I/AAAAAAAAWU8/b7-CkantM04/s1600/cover.jpg
http://open.spotify.com/album/3hCQBRTU8qzvjeLNTzxm89
While pioneering funk groups like Funkadelic and the Commodores, manned by veteran musicians, clearly evolved out of existing black-music formats, the younger ones often resemble third-generation rock groups in concept and spirit. Unless you prefer Kansas to the J.B.'s, this is not a compliment; profound thoughts like "Now will always be forever" might well grace the back of a Starcastle album. This is a Starcastle kind of band, too, right down to its general derivativeness and pretensions to content. But it doesn't make Starcastle music. Despite moderate tempos, the first side of the band's third and best LP chugs by smartly without once pausing to pose--it's fun, and it's interesting, too. Lesson: if the play of rhythms, textures, studio tricks, and vocal techniques constitutes the real content of your music, black is as beautiful as ever. B -- R. Christgau
reviewby Andrew HamiltonThe amazing aspect about bands from Dayton is originality, there's no defining thread or sound to speak of, each group is unique. A short list of Dayton bands include the Ohio Players, Zapp, Lakeside, Sun, and Heatwave. Where's the trademark Dayton sound? Slave may be the most underrated of all, their brand of electronic, funk/soul, techno sound made for great albums. "Stellar Fungk" the title track (yes they spelled funk that way) is stimulating head music, enhanced by brain probing lead guitarist Marc "Drac" Hicks, powerful basslines from Mark Adams, and some ear popping synthesizer work by Carter Bradley. The title The Concept is misleading, the only concept to this fine collection of grooves and funky sounds is getting your boogie on.
The amazing aspect about bands from Dayton is originality, there's no defining thread or sound to speak of, each group is unique. A short list of Dayton bands include the Ohio Players, Zapp, Lakeside, Sun, and Heatwave. Where's the trademark Dayton sound? Slave may be the most underrated of all, their brand of electronic, funk/soul, techno sound made for great albums. "Stellar Fungk" the title track (yes they spelled funk that way) is stimulating head music, enhanced by brain probing lead guitarist Marc "Drac" Hicks, powerful basslines from Mark Adams, and some ear popping synthesizer work by Carter Bradley. The title The Concept is misleading, the only concept to this fine collection of grooves and funky sounds is getting your boogie on.
GO PLAY THIS NOW
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:01 (thirteen years ago)
Way behind but v glad to see No Agreement up there; that was top 10 on my ballot. Dog Eat Dog is one of my favorie songs from the 70s and possibly my favorite 15+ min. track of all time.
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:04 (thirteen years ago)
And hey! Slave! I really like their later disco albums, I shd check out their earlier stuff
Great stuff today so far!
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:05 (thirteen years ago)
The 1st few albums are their best but The Concept is their masterpiece
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:07 (thirteen years ago)
381. THE ONLY ONES The Only Ones (640 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #145 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/863/MI0001863751.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4MNYrqeS506fw5RqInQzXP
Almost not Punk at all, The Only ones even had a drummer from Spooky Tooth. They're very much at the same axis as these other groups in my Punk 9 who took the movement's call for a tabula rasa with a pinch of salt. Perhaps the closest thing to their immaculately deflated power-pop is Alex Chilton's Big Star. Out of time they appear to have become timeless, with "Another Girl, Another Planet" coming to life again and again. -- WoebotLed by singer/songwriter Peter Perrett, England's Only Ones combined the energy of the punk movement and a more traditional sense of rock craft, with Perrett singing his goodnatured tortured-romantic lyrics in a distinctive (and not unpleasant) whine. The quartet's mix of youthful spunk and seasoned experience (drummer Mike Kellie was a member of Spooky Tooth and bassist Alan Mair's résumé stretched back to the early '60s) helped gain the Only Ones quick prominence, but only one song — the much- covered "Another Girl, Another Planet" — earned the highly touted group any lasting acclaim. The Only Ones (which includes that stupendous number) is the best of the three original albums. Perrett's languid vocals and songs provide the character and focus, while the band's skills carry it off handsomely. -- Trouser Press
Led by singer/songwriter Peter Perrett, England's Only Ones combined the energy of the punk movement and a more traditional sense of rock craft, with Perrett singing his goodnatured tortured-romantic lyrics in a distinctive (and not unpleasant) whine. The quartet's mix of youthful spunk and seasoned experience (drummer Mike Kellie was a member of Spooky Tooth and bassist Alan Mair's résumé stretched back to the early '60s) helped gain the Only Ones quick prominence, but only one song — the much- covered "Another Girl, Another Planet" — earned the highly touted group any lasting acclaim. The Only Ones (which includes that stupendous number) is the best of the three original albums. Perrett's languid vocals and songs provide the character and focus, while the band's skills carry it off handsomely. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Mark DemingThe Only Ones were a band that became identified with the British punk scene largely because leader Peter Perrett had a funny voice and could write a great straightforward rock & roll song at a time when such virtues were possessed almost exclusively by the faster-and-louder brigade. This helps explain why The Only Ones' self-titled debut album is regarded as a classic of the first wave of U.K. punk despite the presence of the midtempo jazz-accented "Breaking Down"; the '50s pop moves of the opening cut, "The Whole of the Law"; "The Beast," which sounds like some sort of lethargic neo-boogie; and the graceful semi-acoustic semi-samba "No Peace for the Wicked." Of course, when The Only Ones felt like rocking out, they did it brilliantly, and along with the instant classic "Another Girl, Another Planet," this album includes the sinister but rollicking "City of Fun" and the feedback-drenched crunch of "The Immoral Story," which points to another factor that made The Only Ones heroes in their day -- their eclecticism was rooted in a genuine talent for embracing different sounds rather than the inability to pick a style and master it. Perrett and his bandmates -- John Perry on guitar, Alan Mair on bass, and Mike Kellie on drums -- sound like a tight and imaginative combo even when they're surrounded by keyboard and horn overdubs, and Perrett's tales of one guy's search for love and coherence in a fractured world are intelligent, witty, and deeply cutting at all times. If the creative ambition of The Only Ones sometimes comes at the price of a tight stylistic focus that would make these songs cohere better, every track is memorable in its own way, and these ten songs always have heart, soul, and honesty to spare -- and if that isn't always the benchmark of punk rock, it's at least in the neighborhood.
The Only Ones were a band that became identified with the British punk scene largely because leader Peter Perrett had a funny voice and could write a great straightforward rock & roll song at a time when such virtues were possessed almost exclusively by the faster-and-louder brigade. This helps explain why The Only Ones' self-titled debut album is regarded as a classic of the first wave of U.K. punk despite the presence of the midtempo jazz-accented "Breaking Down"; the '50s pop moves of the opening cut, "The Whole of the Law"; "The Beast," which sounds like some sort of lethargic neo-boogie; and the graceful semi-acoustic semi-samba "No Peace for the Wicked." Of course, when The Only Ones felt like rocking out, they did it brilliantly, and along with the instant classic "Another Girl, Another Planet," this album includes the sinister but rollicking "City of Fun" and the feedback-drenched crunch of "The Immoral Story," which points to another factor that made The Only Ones heroes in their day -- their eclecticism was rooted in a genuine talent for embracing different sounds rather than the inability to pick a style and master it. Perrett and his bandmates -- John Perry on guitar, Alan Mair on bass, and Mike Kellie on drums -- sound like a tight and imaginative combo even when they're surrounded by keyboard and horn overdubs, and Perrett's tales of one guy's search for love and coherence in a fractured world are intelligent, witty, and deeply cutting at all times. If the creative ambition of The Only Ones sometimes comes at the price of a tight stylistic focus that would make these songs cohere better, every track is memorable in its own way, and these ten songs always have heart, soul, and honesty to spare -- and if that isn't always the benchmark of punk rock, it's at least in the neighborhood.
Some of these reviews are so dumb. Neither one of the Fela ones bothered to get the Dog Eay Dog's name right
― in 2013 we will all be yuppies from the 'eighties (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:09 (thirteen years ago)
Eat*
Some of these posts are so dumb. George cant even be bothered to spell Dog Eat Dog right
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:10 (thirteen years ago)
Haha, def not 'dogging' the tremendous effort it must take to compile them surely thanks, Kerr!
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:18 (thirteen years ago)
380. JANDEK Ready For The House (640 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #406 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/757/MI0002757032.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
review[-] by Brian FlotaOriginally released under the moniker the Units (even when it is painfully obvious that this is a solo performance), Jandek's debut album is as mysterious today as it was in 1978. Landing somewhere between idiot and visionary musically, Jandek's sound might best be described as shadow music. His voice wavers between singing and talking, and his lyrics are full of rhyming non sequiturs. When he yelps "Blind Man! Blind Man!" in "Cave in On You," the first reaction is to cringe, though this is not entirely negative. In a way, Jandek's first-take approach to music is a half-step away from being music. He literally plays one dissonant chord throughout the entire album on his out-of-tune acoustic guitar, only picking at the strings differently for each track (though sometimes he does not bother). The only track that deviates from this formula is the albums closer, "European Jewel (Incomplete)," reminiscent of how the Velvet Underground might have sounded on a particularly bad evening in 1966. As the parenthetical title suggests, the song literally ends abruptly, leaving the listener to wonder what happened to the rest of the song, and many other things, about the hermitic idiot savant-slash-genius Jandek.
Originally released under the moniker the Units (even when it is painfully obvious that this is a solo performance), Jandek's debut album is as mysterious today as it was in 1978. Landing somewhere between idiot and visionary musically, Jandek's sound might best be described as shadow music. His voice wavers between singing and talking, and his lyrics are full of rhyming non sequiturs. When he yelps "Blind Man! Blind Man!" in "Cave in On You," the first reaction is to cringe, though this is not entirely negative. In a way, Jandek's first-take approach to music is a half-step away from being music. He literally plays one dissonant chord throughout the entire album on his out-of-tune acoustic guitar, only picking at the strings differently for each track (though sometimes he does not bother). The only track that deviates from this formula is the albums closer, "European Jewel (Incomplete)," reminiscent of how the Velvet Underground might have sounded on a particularly bad evening in 1966. As the parenthetical title suggests, the song literally ends abruptly, leaving the listener to wonder what happened to the rest of the song, and many other things, about the hermitic idiot savant-slash-genius Jandek.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:20 (thirteen years ago)
Amazed balls didnt notice this and veto it
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:21 (thirteen years ago)
379. DEEP PURPLE Made in Japan (642 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #6 for 1972 , #108 overall | Acclaimed #447http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/071/MI0002071798.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0O6nHApQDoiCCAf5x86YSl
If seven wandering hippie jams spread over four sides is your idea of a rock 'n' roll show, pixie-dance on back to the '60s, man. Tokyo, Osaka, and Herculean alcohol consumption circa '72 run headlong into raging ego battles raging at least three ways to doomsday. Update: I got a lot of flak for this tossed-off review over the years. Indeed, people like Bruce Dickinson and Yngwie Malmsteen have personally told me this was their favourite live album of all time. So take my dismissals of the knocked-out dragged-out sprawl of this album with a grain of salt. I guess grudgingly, the band was "on," doing that improvisational thing many folks appreciate, enough to sustain a whole genre called jazz. 7/5 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaLed Zeppelin's fourth album, Black Sabbath's Paranoid, and Deep Purple's Machine Head have stood the test of time as the Holy Trinity of English hard rock and heavy metal, serving as the fundamental blueprints followed by virtually every heavy rock & roll band since the early '70s. And, though it is probably the least celebrated of the three, Machine Head contains the "mother of all guitar riffs" -- and one of the first learned by every beginning guitarist -- in "Smoke on the Water." Inspired by real-life events in Montreux, Switzerland, where Deep Purple were recording the album when the Montreux Casino was burned to the ground during a Frank Zappa concert, neither the song, nor its timeless riff, should need any further description. However, Machine Head was anything but a one-trick pony, introducing the bona fide classic opener "Highway Star," which epitomized all of Deep Purple's intensity and versatility while featuring perhaps the greatest soloing duel ever between guitarist Ritchie Blackmore and organist Jon Lord. Also in top form was singer Ian Gillan, who crooned and exploded with amazing power and range throughout to establish himself once and for all as one of the finest voices of his generation, bar none. Yes, the plodding shuffle of "Maybe I'm a Leo" shows some signs of age, but punchy singles "Pictures of Home" and "Never Before" remain as vital as ever, displaying Purple at their melodic best. And finally, the spectacular "Space Truckin'" drove Machine Head home with yet another tremendous Blackmore riff, providing a fitting conclusion to one of the essential hard rock albums of all time.
Led Zeppelin's fourth album, Black Sabbath's Paranoid, and Deep Purple's Machine Head have stood the test of time as the Holy Trinity of English hard rock and heavy metal, serving as the fundamental blueprints followed by virtually every heavy rock & roll band since the early '70s. And, though it is probably the least celebrated of the three, Machine Head contains the "mother of all guitar riffs" -- and one of the first learned by every beginning guitarist -- in "Smoke on the Water." Inspired by real-life events in Montreux, Switzerland, where Deep Purple were recording the album when the Montreux Casino was burned to the ground during a Frank Zappa concert, neither the song, nor its timeless riff, should need any further description. However, Machine Head was anything but a one-trick pony, introducing the bona fide classic opener "Highway Star," which epitomized all of Deep Purple's intensity and versatility while featuring perhaps the greatest soloing duel ever between guitarist Ritchie Blackmore and organist Jon Lord. Also in top form was singer Ian Gillan, who crooned and exploded with amazing power and range throughout to establish himself once and for all as one of the finest voices of his generation, bar none. Yes, the plodding shuffle of "Maybe I'm a Leo" shows some signs of age, but punchy singles "Pictures of Home" and "Never Before" remain as vital as ever, displaying Purple at their melodic best. And finally, the spectacular "Space Truckin'" drove Machine Head home with yet another tremendous Blackmore riff, providing a fitting conclusion to one of the essential hard rock albums of all time.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:23 (thirteen years ago)
hah i posted the wrong pic and review. it is made in japan
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:31 (thirteen years ago)
379. DEEP PURPLE Made in Japan (642 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #6 for 1972 , #108 overall | Acclaimed #447http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/895/MI0001895840.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0EX2GCp7TjomdBeJ8Zwj9C
review[-] by William RuhlmannRecorded over three nights in August 1972, Deep Purple's Made in Japan was the record that brought the band to headliner status in the U.S. and elsewhere, and it remains a landmark in the history of heavy metal music. Since reorganizing with singer Ian Gillan and bassist Roger Glover in 1969, Deep Purple had recorded three important albums -- Deep Purple in Rock, Fireball, and Machine Head -- and used the material to build a fierce live show. Made in Japan, its selections drawn from those albums, documented that show, in which songs were drawn out to ten and even nearly 20 minutes with no less intensity, as guitarist Ritchie Blackmore and organist Jon Lord soloed extensively and Gillan sang in a screech that became the envy of all metal bands to follow. The signature song, of course, was "Smoke on the Water," with its memorable riff, which went on to become an American hit single. But those extended workouts, particularly the moody "Child in Time," with Gillan's haunting falsetto wail and Blackmore's amazingly fast playing, and "Space Truckin'," with Lord's organ effects, maintained the onslaught, making this a definitive treatment of the band's catalog and its most impressive album. By stretching out and going to extremes, Deep Purple pushed its music into the kind of deliberate excess that made heavy metal what it became, and their audience recognized the breakthrough, propelling the original double LP into the U.S. Top Ten and sales over a million copies.
Recorded over three nights in August 1972, Deep Purple's Made in Japan was the record that brought the band to headliner status in the U.S. and elsewhere, and it remains a landmark in the history of heavy metal music. Since reorganizing with singer Ian Gillan and bassist Roger Glover in 1969, Deep Purple had recorded three important albums -- Deep Purple in Rock, Fireball, and Machine Head -- and used the material to build a fierce live show. Made in Japan, its selections drawn from those albums, documented that show, in which songs were drawn out to ten and even nearly 20 minutes with no less intensity, as guitarist Ritchie Blackmore and organist Jon Lord soloed extensively and Gillan sang in a screech that became the envy of all metal bands to follow. The signature song, of course, was "Smoke on the Water," with its memorable riff, which went on to become an American hit single. But those extended workouts, particularly the moody "Child in Time," with Gillan's haunting falsetto wail and Blackmore's amazingly fast playing, and "Space Truckin'," with Lord's organ effects, maintained the onslaught, making this a definitive treatment of the band's catalog and its most impressive album. By stretching out and going to extremes, Deep Purple pushed its music into the kind of deliberate excess that made heavy metal what it became, and their audience recognized the breakthrough, propelling the original double LP into the U.S. Top Ten and sales over a million copies.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:33 (thirteen years ago)
378. BLACK FLAG Everything Went Black (646 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #65 for 1982 , #4248 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/607/MI0000607708.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Stuck in legal limbo, they resort to historic alternate-take arcana featuring the three screamers who passed through the band before Henry Rollins took possession--except for side four, which is filled with radio ads for Flag gigs. These are still collector-only, I suppose. But as punk-era Firesign Theatre, worth going out and flattering a geek with a skateboard to hear. B -- R. ChristgauAs a developmental Black Flag sampler, Everything Went Black is both illuminating and entertaining, but the real treat is Side Four, "Crass Commercialism," a hysterically funny collection of crazed radio spots for Flag gigs, most with music, that say a lot about the cultural milieu in which the band existed. -- Trouser Press
As a developmental Black Flag sampler, Everything Went Black is both illuminating and entertaining, but the real treat is Side Four, "Crass Commercialism," a hysterically funny collection of crazed radio spots for Flag gigs, most with music, that say a lot about the cultural milieu in which the band existed. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Alex OggWhen Everything Went Black was first released in 1983, Black Flag was in the middle of a backbreaking legal dispute with Unicorn Records. As a result of litigation, the band was prevented from using the Black Flag name on any records. Hence the original packaging for this album, which listed only the names of individual bandmembers on the cover (this was rectified on subsequent issues). It's a double-album (on vinyl) compilation of previously released material and outtakes -- though the European edition features a wholly different running order. The material, dating from 1978 to 1981, is excellent in places, average in others. However, only obsessives need track it down -- as signified by the inclusion of two versions of several songs (including stalwarts "Damaged" and "Police Story"). The fourth side of the original vinyl issue also included a sequence of radio spots discussing forthcoming Black Flag gigs, which is entertaining stuff, but it's more useful as a historical document than a listening experience.
When Everything Went Black was first released in 1983, Black Flag was in the middle of a backbreaking legal dispute with Unicorn Records. As a result of litigation, the band was prevented from using the Black Flag name on any records. Hence the original packaging for this album, which listed only the names of individual bandmembers on the cover (this was rectified on subsequent issues). It's a double-album (on vinyl) compilation of previously released material and outtakes -- though the European edition features a wholly different running order. The material, dating from 1978 to 1981, is excellent in places, average in others. However, only obsessives need track it down -- as signified by the inclusion of two versions of several songs (including stalwarts "Damaged" and "Police Story"). The fourth side of the original vinyl issue also included a sequence of radio spots discussing forthcoming Black Flag gigs, which is entertaining stuff, but it's more useful as a historical document than a listening experience.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:36 (thirteen years ago)
377. CABARET VOLTAIRE Mix-Up (646 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #164 for 1979http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zsfBqyz_P-g/TwJbRNihFjI/AAAAAAAAAZg/r3OtTvX5Nf0/s1600/cabaret+voltaire.jpg
The more professionally produced "Mix-Up" has better coordinated use of electronics, increasing the bizarre intensity of the sound. Bass, guitar and flute are evident (but deformed) in the mix, and Cabaret Voltaire makes visible use of other people's material, as with the Seeds' "No Escape." -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Andy KellmanIt's true that Cabaret Voltaire's first two proper studio albums hardly match the greatness of later works like Red Mecca, 2 X 45, and even 3 Crepuscule Tracks. Despite this, both Mix-Up and The Voice of America -- rather similar records that were released back to back in 1979 and 1980 -- only helped solidify Cabaret Voltaire's status as an integral part of the extended frisson of 1978-1982 post-punk, so if they had ceased to exist before their best work, it would still be very correct to refer to them as "important." ("Yes, important, but were they any good?") Mix-Up, their first album, impressively harnesses noise, primitive rhythm box percolations, tape loops, garbled vocals, and blasts of Farfisa. "Kirlian Photograph" is an ugly slab of dub with frizzling snaps of white-heat buzz, clunky percussion, and a plodding bassline forming its skanking, roiling rhythm. Both the bass and incidental vocals are relegated to the back of the mix as the piercing detritus takes center stage. A cover of the Seeds' "No Escape" evidences Cabaret Voltaire's paradox as a seemingly anti-rockist band who -- at their heart (for the first several years, at least) -- was a garage band. For all the manual binning and sandblasting of rock's elemental properties, the band could take an acid-damaged rock song like "No Escape" and make it sound even more damaged while retaining its spirit, nerve, and structure. The remainder of the album hisses and hectors in a similar fashion, tidily bundling pop-song length pieces that will do nothing for that headache of yours.
It's true that Cabaret Voltaire's first two proper studio albums hardly match the greatness of later works like Red Mecca, 2 X 45, and even 3 Crepuscule Tracks. Despite this, both Mix-Up and The Voice of America -- rather similar records that were released back to back in 1979 and 1980 -- only helped solidify Cabaret Voltaire's status as an integral part of the extended frisson of 1978-1982 post-punk, so if they had ceased to exist before their best work, it would still be very correct to refer to them as "important." ("Yes, important, but were they any good?") Mix-Up, their first album, impressively harnesses noise, primitive rhythm box percolations, tape loops, garbled vocals, and blasts of Farfisa. "Kirlian Photograph" is an ugly slab of dub with frizzling snaps of white-heat buzz, clunky percussion, and a plodding bassline forming its skanking, roiling rhythm. Both the bass and incidental vocals are relegated to the back of the mix as the piercing detritus takes center stage. A cover of the Seeds' "No Escape" evidences Cabaret Voltaire's paradox as a seemingly anti-rockist band who -- at their heart (for the first several years, at least) -- was a garage band. For all the manual binning and sandblasting of rock's elemental properties, the band could take an acid-damaged rock song like "No Escape" and make it sound even more damaged while retaining its spirit, nerve, and structure. The remainder of the album hisses and hectors in a similar fashion, tidily bundling pop-song length pieces that will do nothing for that headache of yours.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:47 (thirteen years ago)
stirmonster to thread
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 18:49 (thirteen years ago)
376. QUEEN Sheer Heart Attack (649 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #43 for 1974 , #1476 overall | Acclaimed: #1176http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/201/MI0003201075.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1Gnrd76EubInPV4KjOJ1Zr
But there's more to Queen than rouge and chrome. The group's main writers, singer Freddie Mercury and guitarist Brian May, work in a sophisticated, glib style and the material's wittiness lifts the ponderously thick music like flaps on a jumbo jet. On Sheer Heart Attack, "Killer Queen" (which would seem from the title to be a sonic blitzkrieg) and "Bring Back That Leroy Brown" are surprisingly light showcases for Queen's wit and vocal dexterity, calculated--like everything this band has ever done--to turn heads in surprise and wonder...And like 10 c.c., which the band sometimes resembles, Queen tends to confuse coyness with profundity and to go for resolution to the lyrical non sequitur. If there's no meaning (there isn't), if nothing follows (it doesn't), if you can't dance to it (it would seem that you can't), Sheer Heart Attack is still, like its two predecessors, a handsomely glossy construction. IF it's hard to love, it's hard not to admire: This band is skilled, after all, and it dares. -- Bud Scopa, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineQueen II was a breakthrough in terms of power and ambition, but Queen's third album Sheer Heart Attack was where the band started to gel. It followed quickly on the heels of the second record -- just by a matter of months; it was the second album they released in 1974 -- but it feels like it had a longer incubation period, so great is the progress here. Which isn't quite to say that Sheer Heart Attack is flawless -- it still has a tendency to meander, sometimes within a song itself, as when the killer opening "Brighton Rock" suddenly veers into long stretches of Brian May solo guitar -- but all these detours do not distract from the overall album, they're in many ways the key to the record itself: it's the sound of Queen stretching their wings as they learn how to soar to the clouds. There's a genuine excitement in hearing all the elements to Queen's sound fall into place here, as the music grows grander and catchier without sacrificing their brutal, hard attack. One of the great strengths of the album is how all four members find their voices as songwriters, penning hooks that are big, bold, and insistent and crafting them in songs that work as cohesive entities instead of flourishes of ideas. This is evident not just in "Killer Queen" -- the first, best flourishing of Freddie Mercury's vaudevillian camp -- but also on the pummeling "Stone Cold Crazy," a frenzied piece of jagged metal that's all the more exciting because it has a real melodic hook. Those hooks are threaded throughout the record, on both the ballads and the other rockers, but it isn't just that this is poppier, it's that they're able to execute their drama with flair and style. There are still references to mystical worlds ("Lily of the Valley," "In the Lap of Gods") but the fantasy does not overwhelm as it did on the first two records; the theatricality is now wielded on everyday affairs, which ironically makes them sound larger than life. And this sense of scale, combined with the heavy guitars, pop hooks, and theatrical style, marks the true unveiling of Queen, making Sheer Heart Attack as the moment where they truly came into their own.
Queen II was a breakthrough in terms of power and ambition, but Queen's third album Sheer Heart Attack was where the band started to gel. It followed quickly on the heels of the second record -- just by a matter of months; it was the second album they released in 1974 -- but it feels like it had a longer incubation period, so great is the progress here. Which isn't quite to say that Sheer Heart Attack is flawless -- it still has a tendency to meander, sometimes within a song itself, as when the killer opening "Brighton Rock" suddenly veers into long stretches of Brian May solo guitar -- but all these detours do not distract from the overall album, they're in many ways the key to the record itself: it's the sound of Queen stretching their wings as they learn how to soar to the clouds. There's a genuine excitement in hearing all the elements to Queen's sound fall into place here, as the music grows grander and catchier without sacrificing their brutal, hard attack. One of the great strengths of the album is how all four members find their voices as songwriters, penning hooks that are big, bold, and insistent and crafting them in songs that work as cohesive entities instead of flourishes of ideas. This is evident not just in "Killer Queen" -- the first, best flourishing of Freddie Mercury's vaudevillian camp -- but also on the pummeling "Stone Cold Crazy," a frenzied piece of jagged metal that's all the more exciting because it has a real melodic hook. Those hooks are threaded throughout the record, on both the ballads and the other rockers, but it isn't just that this is poppier, it's that they're able to execute their drama with flair and style. There are still references to mystical worlds ("Lily of the Valley," "In the Lap of Gods") but the fantasy does not overwhelm as it did on the first two records; the theatricality is now wielded on everyday affairs, which ironically makes them sound larger than life. And this sense of scale, combined with the heavy guitars, pop hooks, and theatrical style, marks the true unveiling of Queen, making Sheer Heart Attack as the moment where they truly came into their own.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:05 (thirteen years ago)
No but seriously those reviews seem like a lot of work and a super cool supplement to this results tgread even if sometimes I disagree w them and wonder if the og authors had suffered from head injuries...
Thanks to whomever typed them out! Quite an awesome touch
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:09 (thirteen years ago)
375. IAN DURY New Boots and Panties!!! (650 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #65 for 1977 , #3347 overall | Acclaimed: #383http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/451/MI0002451164.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5tuUAXD8S0QVhPW7M2aQb0
Dury is a pub rock survivor, as tough and homely as a dandelion, as English as music halls, billingsgate, and Gene Vincent. The tenacious wit and accuracy of his lyrics betray how uncommon he believes his blockheaded protagonists really are, and his music rocks out in the traditional blues-based grooves without kissing the past's ass. Tender, furious, sexy, eccentric, surprising. A- -- R. ChristgauStunted in growth, crippled by polio and unrepentantly Cockney, Ian Dury is one of rock's most memorable (and certainly lovable) figures. Following his time in Kilburn, the 35-year-old came into his own with New Boots and Panties!!, an album whose energy almost defies it to stay on the turntable. With the motley but talented Blockheads, Dury trounces merrily through outrageous odes like "Plaistow Patricia," "Billericay Dickie," "Blockheads" and the anthemic "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll" (not on the original UK LP, but added to the American edition and later to the British as well). A more sensitive side emerges lyrically on "Sweet Gene Vincent," "My Old Man" and "If I Was with a Woman" and musically on "Wake Up and Make Love with Me." -- Trouser Press
Stunted in growth, crippled by polio and unrepentantly Cockney, Ian Dury is one of rock's most memorable (and certainly lovable) figures. Following his time in Kilburn, the 35-year-old came into his own with New Boots and Panties!!, an album whose energy almost defies it to stay on the turntable. With the motley but talented Blockheads, Dury trounces merrily through outrageous odes like "Plaistow Patricia," "Billericay Dickie," "Blockheads" and the anthemic "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll" (not on the original UK LP, but added to the American edition and later to the British as well). A more sensitive side emerges lyrically on "Sweet Gene Vincent," "My Old Man" and "If I Was with a Woman" and musically on "Wake Up and Make Love with Me." -- Trouser Press
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineIan Dury's primary appeal lies in his lyrics, which are remarkably clever sketches of British life delivered with a wry wit. Since Dury's accent is thick and his language dense with local slang, much of these pleasures aren't discernible to casual listeners, leaving the music to stand on its own merits. On his debut album, New Boots and Panties!!, Dury's music is at its best, and even that is a bizarrely uneven fusion of pub rock, punk rock, and disco. Still, Dury's off-kilter charm and irrepressible energy make the album gel, with the disco pulse of "Wake Up and Make Love With Me" making perfect sense next to the gentle tribute "Sweet Gene Vincent," the roaring punk of "Blockheads," and the revamped music hall of "Billericay Dickie" and "My Old Man." [Repertoire's 1996 CD reissue adds five essential singles -- "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll," "Razzle in My Pocket," "You're More Than Fair," "England's Glory," "What a Waste" -- that nearly make the disc a Dury best-of.]
Ian Dury's primary appeal lies in his lyrics, which are remarkably clever sketches of British life delivered with a wry wit. Since Dury's accent is thick and his language dense with local slang, much of these pleasures aren't discernible to casual listeners, leaving the music to stand on its own merits. On his debut album, New Boots and Panties!!, Dury's music is at its best, and even that is a bizarrely uneven fusion of pub rock, punk rock, and disco. Still, Dury's off-kilter charm and irrepressible energy make the album gel, with the disco pulse of "Wake Up and Make Love With Me" making perfect sense next to the gentle tribute "Sweet Gene Vincent," the roaring punk of "Blockheads," and the revamped music hall of "Billericay Dickie" and "My Old Man." [Repertoire's 1996 CD reissue adds five essential singles -- "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll," "Razzle in My Pocket," "You're More Than Fair," "England's Glory," "What a Waste" -- that nearly make the disc a Dury best-of.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:16 (thirteen years ago)
And this band was once a funky almost rock band and here is their first album and Its great. Bought this cd in the 90s and, like the 1st commodores album (not nominated) I was taken aback at how different it sounded to the disco-y stuff they're known for. Fine funk and worth checking out even if you don't like the well known stuff. Dismiss at your peril.
365. EARTH, WIND & FIRE Earth, Wind & Fire (674 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #545 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/433/MI0001433812.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2hzWzBtuhlpa9qGwtoAtzB
This postsoul big band isn't as messy as the sum of its cross-references; on the second side especially, the heavy guitar, post-Memphis horns, and off-center 4/4 all work to similarly disquieting effect, and even the African kalimba is suitably weird. But at times the brass locks into gear just like Vegas, and the expert vocal harmonies neither fit the concept nor assert any personality of their own. Worse, even the songs that work when you're listening have a way of slipping away unnoticed once the record is over. C+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by John BushThe debut for the nine-member Earth, Wind & Fire was as assured as that of any rock band from the '60s and early '70s. Already fluent with the close harmonies of the classiest soul groups, the deep funk of James Brown, and the progressive social concerns and multiple vocal features of Sly & the Family Stone, the group added (courtesy of auteur Maurice White) a set of freewheeling arrangements, heavy on the horns, that made Earth Wind and Fire one of their finest albums -- the artistic equal of their later hits, if not on the same level commercially. Unlike the work of most early funk bands, the songwriting was as strong and focused as the musicianship; the record boasts a set of unerringly positive compositions, reflecting the influence of the civil rights movement with nearly every song urging love, community, and knowledge as alternatives to the increasing hopelessness plaguing American society. The stop-start opener "Help Somebody," the deep funk extravaganza "Moment of Truth," and the sweet ballad "Love Is Life" were unified in their pursuit of positivity, while even the potentially incendiary title "Fan the Fire" was revealed in a peaceful context: "The flame of love is about to die/Somebody fan the fire." And the instrumental closer, "Bad Tune," is hardly a cast-off; the furious kalimba work of Maurice White and wordless backing vocals combine to create an excellent piece of impressionist funk.
The debut for the nine-member Earth, Wind & Fire was as assured as that of any rock band from the '60s and early '70s. Already fluent with the close harmonies of the classiest soul groups, the deep funk of James Brown, and the progressive social concerns and multiple vocal features of Sly & the Family Stone, the group added (courtesy of auteur Maurice White) a set of freewheeling arrangements, heavy on the horns, that made Earth Wind and Fire one of their finest albums -- the artistic equal of their later hits, if not on the same level commercially. Unlike the work of most early funk bands, the songwriting was as strong and focused as the musicianship; the record boasts a set of unerringly positive compositions, reflecting the influence of the civil rights movement with nearly every song urging love, community, and knowledge as alternatives to the increasing hopelessness plaguing American society. The stop-start opener "Help Somebody," the deep funk extravaganza "Moment of Truth," and the sweet ballad "Love Is Life" were unified in their pursuit of positivity, while even the potentially incendiary title "Fan the Fire" was revealed in a peaceful context: "The flame of love is about to die/Somebody fan the fire." And the instrumental closer, "Bad Tune," is hardly a cast-off; the furious kalimba work of Maurice White and wordless backing vocals combine to create an excellent piece of impressionist funk.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:27 (thirteen years ago)
dont worry it is #375 I just copied from a file where it was wrong
374. TUXEDOMOON No Tears (657 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #7 for 1978 , #169 overallhttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jW-QMl4Sgl0/TGm6bBBMF9I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/34ZtUT2Y5Yg/s1600/front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6p4e9hrDnnxAKOjG1XsxYy
Pioneers in performance-oriented synthesizer music, Tuxedomoon started out in San Francisco at the very beginning of that city's punk upsurge, in 1977. The mercurial aggregate of musicians and artists later relocated to Belgium and became a leading light in the international post-rock avant-garde. Sidestepping the mistakes of many early synthesizer bands, Tuxmoon leavened their attack with sax and violin and were quick to integrate electronic percussion as a true substitute for real drums.Prior to their Ralph records, Tuxedomoon had released singles and EPs on their own label.No Tears, a four-cut EP also known as New Machine, after its leadoff song, is an early new wave DIY effort, which sounds coyly dated but still exciting at the time of its reissue seven years later. It was immediately obvious that Tuxedomoon was a step apart from many other bands of the era. Winston Tong had been a mime, and brought a theatrical approach to singing; plenty of synths and electronic percussion (when they were still called rhythm boxes) dominate, violin gets some use and two of the songs exceed the five-minute mark. -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:35 (thirteen years ago)
373. TRAD, GRAS & STENAR Träd, Gräs & Stenar (663 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #720 for 1970http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v6WWKDz64SA/UM_XILtWTfI/AAAAAAAAFfQ/Y87jtaFuFvU/s1600/19985d1292424935-trad-gras-och-stenar-trad-gras-och-stenar-1.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0EzR2t0UXiygk9mCusJpdy
review[-] by François CoutureFans of the Scandinavian psychedelic rock connection know that Träd, Gräs och Stenar were the real deal. A wild quartet, prone in concert to spontaneous recorder or Jew's harp ensemble pieces, performance stunts, and extended acid jams, their music recalls the Mothers of Invention as much as Parson Sound -- and even more so on their debut LP from 1970, reissued on CD in 1995. Side one of the original LP was filled by two covers and not just any covers: Jimi Hendrix's "All Along the Watchtower" (yes, not penned by him, but TG&S's rendition clearly stems from his recording of Dylan's song) and the Rolling Stones' "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" -- these Swedish guys had guts. "All Along the Watchtower" is taken at a crawling tempo and turned almost gloomy by the use of a menacing rhythm guitar. The Stones anthem fails to impress vocally, but it opens on a fabulous extended freakout. The track lasts over ten minutes. Side two consists of two original songs and two spontaneous live tracks. Led by two Jew's harps and a violin, "Svarta Pärla" has strong folk overtones and provides the highlight. "Tegenborgsvalsen" and "All Makt Åt Folket" stand as examples of the group's live madness -- a recorder piece and an audience chant. In short, this eponymous debut captures the spirit of the band before its talent. Some may find it a bit lacking in substance, but it remains a valuable document of the era.
Fans of the Scandinavian psychedelic rock connection know that Träd, Gräs och Stenar were the real deal. A wild quartet, prone in concert to spontaneous recorder or Jew's harp ensemble pieces, performance stunts, and extended acid jams, their music recalls the Mothers of Invention as much as Parson Sound -- and even more so on their debut LP from 1970, reissued on CD in 1995. Side one of the original LP was filled by two covers and not just any covers: Jimi Hendrix's "All Along the Watchtower" (yes, not penned by him, but TG&S's rendition clearly stems from his recording of Dylan's song) and the Rolling Stones' "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" -- these Swedish guys had guts. "All Along the Watchtower" is taken at a crawling tempo and turned almost gloomy by the use of a menacing rhythm guitar. The Stones anthem fails to impress vocally, but it opens on a fabulous extended freakout. The track lasts over ten minutes. Side two consists of two original songs and two spontaneous live tracks. Led by two Jew's harps and a violin, "Svarta Pärla" has strong folk overtones and provides the highlight. "Tegenborgsvalsen" and "All Makt Åt Folket" stand as examples of the group's live madness -- a recorder piece and an audience chant. In short, this eponymous debut captures the spirit of the band before its talent. Some may find it a bit lacking in substance, but it remains a valuable document of the era.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:45 (thirteen years ago)
372. THROBBING GRISTLE First Annual Report (664 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: DNPhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/368/MI0002368196.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
reviewby John BushA proper debut of sorts, Second Annual Report includes several versions each (some live) of early Throbbing Gristle standards like "Slug Bait" and "Maggot Death," as well as an "Industrial Introduction" and the soundtrack work "After Cease to Exist." The music is relentless, grinding distortion, only occasionally leavened by vocal samples and percussion.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:57 (thirteen years ago)
oops should behttp://991.com/newGallery/Throbbing-Gristle-The-First-Annual-388366.jpg
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:58 (thirteen years ago)
Wow, Roots is really great. Right now, it may be my favourite of the three CM albums I've listened to.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 17 March 2013 19:59 (thirteen years ago)
371. ALLMAN BROTHERS Fillmore East (664 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #11 for 1971 , #179 overall | Acclaimed: #120 | RS: #49http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/238/MI0002238072.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1IL9PJOAi9T4E3WVJKQHCw
Four sides comprising seven titles--only two of them repeated (ad infinitum) from the band's studio albums--and they sure do boogie. But even if Duane Allman plus Dickey Betts does equal Jerry Garcia, the Dead know roads are for getting somewhere. That is, Garcia (not to bring in John Coltrane) always takes you someplace unexpected on a long solo. I guess the appeal here is the inevitability of it all. B- -- R. Christgau...the best damn rock and roll band this country has produced in the past five years. And if you think I'm dog-shittin' you, listen to this album. The first two sides consist of an all-blues set, with Duane setting the pace on slide guitar...Side three is devoted to the group's tune "Hot 'Lanta" and nearly 13 minutes of "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed," written by Betts, who plays lead. The version here is even better than the cut on the Allmans' second album. Side four is the encore; 22 minutes plus of Gregg Allman's "Whipping Post," with Duane and Betts trading off leads around Gregg's organ, and both drummers taking off as well -- Trucks sometimes on tympani. If you've been so unfortunate as to never have caught the Allman Brothers Band live, this recording is certainly the next best thing. Turn the volume up all the way and sit through the concert; by the time it's over you can almost imagine the Allman Band getting high and heading back to Macon (where, characteristically, they continue to live in unparanoid bliss) on their motorcycles. (Collectively the group owns nine of them.) They're one of the nicest things that ever happened to any of us.
...the best damn rock and roll band this country has produced in the past five years. And if you think I'm dog-shittin' you, listen to this album. The first two sides consist of an all-blues set, with Duane setting the pace on slide guitar...Side three is devoted to the group's tune "Hot 'Lanta" and nearly 13 minutes of "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed," written by Betts, who plays lead. The version here is even better than the cut on the Allmans' second album. Side four is the encore; 22 minutes plus of Gregg Allman's "Whipping Post," with Duane and Betts trading off leads around Gregg's organ, and both drummers taking off as well -- Trucks sometimes on tympani.
If you've been so unfortunate as to never have caught the Allman Brothers Band live, this recording is certainly the next best thing. Turn the volume up all the way and sit through the concert; by the time it's over you can almost imagine the Allman Band getting high and heading back to Macon (where, characteristically, they continue to live in unparanoid bliss) on their motorcycles. (Collectively the group owns nine of them.) They're one of the nicest things that ever happened to any of us.
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineWhereas most great live rock albums are about energy, At Fillmore East is like a great live jazz session, where the pleasure comes from the musicians' interaction and playing. The great thing about that is, the original album that brought the Allmans so much acclaim is as notable for its clever studio editing as it is for its performances. Producer Tom Dowd skillfully trimmed some of the performances down to relatively concise running time (edits later restored on the double-disc set The Fillmore Concerts), at times condensing several performances into one track. Far from being a sacrilege, this tactic helps present the Allmans in their best light, since even if the music isn't necessarily concise (three tracks run over ten minutes, with two in the 20-minute range), it does showcase the group's terrific instrumental interplay, letting each member (but particularly guitarist Duane and keyboardist/vocalist Gregg) shine. Even after the release of the unedited concerts, this original double album (single CD) remains the pinnacle of the Allmans and Southern rock at its most elastic, bluesy, and jazzy.
Whereas most great live rock albums are about energy, At Fillmore East is like a great live jazz session, where the pleasure comes from the musicians' interaction and playing. The great thing about that is, the original album that brought the Allmans so much acclaim is as notable for its clever studio editing as it is for its performances. Producer Tom Dowd skillfully trimmed some of the performances down to relatively concise running time (edits later restored on the double-disc set The Fillmore Concerts), at times condensing several performances into one track. Far from being a sacrilege, this tactic helps present the Allmans in their best light, since even if the music isn't necessarily concise (three tracks run over ten minutes, with two in the 20-minute range), it does showcase the group's terrific instrumental interplay, letting each member (but particularly guitarist Duane and keyboardist/vocalist Gregg) shine. Even after the release of the unedited concerts, this original double album (single CD) remains the pinnacle of the Allmans and Southern rock at its most elastic, bluesy, and jazzy.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:00 (thirteen years ago)
Can anyone tell me the appeal of that album and why it's one of the greatest rock albums ever? As I just dont get it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:03 (thirteen years ago)
370. NINA HAGEN BAND Nina Hagen Band (665 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #125 for 1978 | Acclaimed: #1485
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/006/MI0002006054.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Nina Hagen Band, her first LP, is relatively restrained; all-German vocals mask the subject matter for non-linguists. (Although "TV-Glotzer" is an adaptation of the Tubes' "White Punks on Dope.") A serviceable trio provides generic rock'n'roll backing which she easily upstages, even without dipping far into her seemingly bottomless bag of vocal tricks. -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:08 (thirteen years ago)
369. THE FALL 77-Early Years-79 (667 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #6 for 1981 , #729 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/832/MI0001832449.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
All of the Fall's pre-LP singles (by a lineup with keyboardist Una Baines and guitarist Martin Bramah, who went off together to form the Blue Orchids) are on one side of Early Years; the other collects later 7-inch efforts. One imagines that Public Image listened to the '77 vintage "Repetition" a couple of times before mapping out their first LP. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Ned RaggettThough Live at the Witch Trials was the first Fall album, the band already had some singles and recordings under its belt, conveniently collected on the self-descriptive Early Years, along with a few post-Witch Trials efforts. Various initial lineups appear -- some tracks have Martin Bramah on guitar, others with Marc Riley after he switched from bass, while Craig Scanlon first steps out with the commanding rave-up "Rowche Rumble." Then there's the keyboard work of Una Baines, later Bramah's partner in the Blue Orchids, who brings her own semi-psych feel to the proceedings. No matter who's around, though, it's still very much the Fall, Smith's immediately identifiable vocals leading the way. It's terribly amusing to hear the semi-conventional punk edge in his voice on some of the earliest songs, but that said, his approach did more or less appear fully formed, down to the drawling "-uh" at the end of nearly every word. Bramah's guitar work contains a delicacy that wouldn't last, at least quite the same way, while first and future drummer Karl Burns throws in his own flair more often than not (including the near-disco moves on "Psykick Dancehall"). There are even some gently pretty moments when least expected -- consider the flow of "In My Area," a portrait of urban breakdown that's almost winsome, or would be if Smith was a conventionally calm singer. The leadoff track -- actually a B-side for the first single, "Bingo Master's Breakout" -- is pretty much the Fall manifesto in a nutshell: "Repetition," drawing together punk's obsession with the basics with avant-garage art rock focus courtesy of Krautrock. The long-overdue CD version included the two cuts from the Short Circuit live album: "Stepping Out" and "Last Orders," neither of which are deathless but still have that certain Fall something.
Though Live at the Witch Trials was the first Fall album, the band already had some singles and recordings under its belt, conveniently collected on the self-descriptive Early Years, along with a few post-Witch Trials efforts. Various initial lineups appear -- some tracks have Martin Bramah on guitar, others with Marc Riley after he switched from bass, while Craig Scanlon first steps out with the commanding rave-up "Rowche Rumble." Then there's the keyboard work of Una Baines, later Bramah's partner in the Blue Orchids, who brings her own semi-psych feel to the proceedings. No matter who's around, though, it's still very much the Fall, Smith's immediately identifiable vocals leading the way. It's terribly amusing to hear the semi-conventional punk edge in his voice on some of the earliest songs, but that said, his approach did more or less appear fully formed, down to the drawling "-uh" at the end of nearly every word. Bramah's guitar work contains a delicacy that wouldn't last, at least quite the same way, while first and future drummer Karl Burns throws in his own flair more often than not (including the near-disco moves on "Psykick Dancehall"). There are even some gently pretty moments when least expected -- consider the flow of "In My Area," a portrait of urban breakdown that's almost winsome, or would be if Smith was a conventionally calm singer. The leadoff track -- actually a B-side for the first single, "Bingo Master's Breakout" -- is pretty much the Fall manifesto in a nutshell: "Repetition," drawing together punk's obsession with the basics with avant-garage art rock focus courtesy of Krautrock. The long-overdue CD version included the two cuts from the Short Circuit live album: "Stepping Out" and "Last Orders," neither of which are deathless but still have that certain Fall something.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:17 (thirteen years ago)
george to thread
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:20 (thirteen years ago)
ilm to thread
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:21 (thirteen years ago)
woo hoo for my favorite sloppy swedes! there's another one i voted for.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:24 (thirteen years ago)
368. DR. FEELGOOD Stupidity (667 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #43 for 1976 , #2440 overall | Acclaimed: #1999http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/240/MI0000240541.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7MYvqTnjsstsigvhLZyI2u
The live Stupidity, although an effective representation, suffers from its similarity to their studio efforts and lack of the exciting visual factor that made their early gigs so great. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineComprised of recordings taken from 1975 tours, the live Stupidity finally captures the relentless, hard-driving energy of Dr. Feelgood at their peak. All the music on Stupidity is presented raw and without overdubs, making it clear that the dynamic friction between guitarist Wilko Johnson and vocalist Lee Brilleaux could propel the band toward greatness. While many of the versions here don't differ in form from the original studio versions, these unvarnished performances are considerably more exciting, revealing the Johnson originals "She Does It Right" and "All Through the City" as minor rock & roll classics.
Comprised of recordings taken from 1975 tours, the live Stupidity finally captures the relentless, hard-driving energy of Dr. Feelgood at their peak. All the music on Stupidity is presented raw and without overdubs, making it clear that the dynamic friction between guitarist Wilko Johnson and vocalist Lee Brilleaux could propel the band toward greatness. While many of the versions here don't differ in form from the original studio versions, these unvarnished performances are considerably more exciting, revealing the Johnson originals "She Does It Right" and "All Through the City" as minor rock & roll classics.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:29 (thirteen years ago)
I remember reading Gary Valentine's (from Blondie) book about how he'd be at parties and everyone was playing the first Dr. Feelgood, because it was so refreshingly stripped-down. Can def see it being an influence on the CBGBs scene.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:32 (thirteen years ago)
367. DESPERATE BICYCLES Another Commercial Venture (670 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #35 for 2001 , #930 overall
long with the far more heralded Soft Boys, this legendary post-punk Chocolate Watch band predated the neo-psychedelic movement by several years with a series of self-released singles and an LP of ten pop gems. The interplay of agile bass and near-perfect guitar onRemorse Code helps kick things along, and songs like "Sarcasm" and "It's Somebody's Birthday Today" are utter classics. Sly humor is exhibited with silly tape and sound effects, not to mention the guitarist's savvy pseudonym: Dan Electro. -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:36 (thirteen years ago)
366. BROSELMASCHINE Bröselmaschine (670 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #234 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/908/MI0001908012.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2FimAPo60DPnyfwymhwQl1
If you dig: Acid Folk, Fairport Convention. Bursch's acoustic guitar is most likely "Broselmaschine's" strongest point. The solos that he plays are simply divine, but even when it is bieng used as a rhythm guitar you simply cannot ignore it...The best track is their beautiful cover version to the traditional Scottish song "Lassie," in which three singers' vocal harmonies touch god-like perfection thanks to the golden voice of Jenni Schucker and features fantastic mandolin and electric guitar solos that would make you feel like you were in an actual Hobbiton. -- R. Chelled The original band, who were inspired by Pentangle (their quote, not ours) and European folk musics, played a mixture of all sorts of cultures. They wrapped vibrant songs in a hybrid of folk, Indian music, psychedelic rock and cosmic musics, all fused together to form a delicate spacious folk-fusion of great beauty. Their style was characterised by Jenni Schücker, who has a most sensual vocal style ideally suited to such music, all ready to wisp us off to the clouds with the "heads flying by" - to quote the surreal psychedelic lyrics of the opening "Gedanken". With the exception of "Lassie" (a minor low-point, being a traditional folk song) BRÖSELMASCHINE is a delightful album, trippy and otherworldly, stylishly Teutonic cosmic folk, not least so in the addition of Dieter Dierks spooky Mellotron, sitars, zither, tablas, and the like. It all adds up to an ideal companion to Emtidi's SAAT or Hölderlin's TRAUM. -- Cosmic Egg
The original band, who were inspired by Pentangle (their quote, not ours) and European folk musics, played a mixture of all sorts of cultures. They wrapped vibrant songs in a hybrid of folk, Indian music, psychedelic rock and cosmic musics, all fused together to form a delicate spacious folk-fusion of great beauty. Their style was characterised by Jenni Schücker, who has a most sensual vocal style ideally suited to such music, all ready to wisp us off to the clouds with the "heads flying by" - to quote the surreal psychedelic lyrics of the opening "Gedanken". With the exception of "Lassie" (a minor low-point, being a traditional folk song) BRÖSELMASCHINE is a delightful album, trippy and otherworldly, stylishly Teutonic cosmic folk, not least so in the addition of Dieter Dierks spooky Mellotron, sitars, zither, tablas, and the like. It all adds up to an ideal companion to Emtidi's SAAT or Hölderlin's TRAUM. -- Cosmic Egg
review[-] by Jo-Ann GreeneLanguorous atmospheres, lovely vocals, iridescent melodies, and shimmering solos combine on Bröselmaschine's self-titled 1971 debut album, the apotheosis of the German folk-prog scene. The quintet took their cue from England's Canterbury scene and even a traditional folk song, "Lassie," from that green and pleasant land. The band's signature sound was derived from Jenni Schucker's delicate and at times ethereal vocals in harmony with Willi Kissmer's stronger tenor, and that sound took on a Teutonic tinge when the pair switched from English to German lyrics. But it was the group's extraordinary use of acoustic and electric guitars that cemented its reputation. On "The Old Man's Song," one of four vocal cuts on the set, Kissmer's wah-wah guitar wafts and winds around Peter Bursch's acoustic strums. On "Gitarrenstück," the electric leads smolder like embers around the fiery acoustic rhythm guitar, while Schucker's wordless vocals float hauntingly above. It's the flute that soars overhead on "Gedanken," counterpointed by the moody Spanish-styled guitar, which itself is offset by the excitement of Kissmer's electric lead. Lutz Ringer's bassline adds an almost funky flair to "Lassie," and is also crucial to the album's two instrumentals, "Schmetterling" and the wittily titled "Nossa Bova." The former is a showcase for the band's percussionist, Mike Hellbach, who fills the number with tablas, instantly taking the sound into Eastern climes, a sighting enhanced by Bursch's sitar, even as a pastoral flute delicately dances above and the acoustic guitar shimmers in an ecstasy of chiming strums below. "Nossa Bova" also utilizes tablas, but its setting shivers between the Spanish plains and England's rolling rural hills. The music is gorgeous, but it's the relaxed atmospheres that truly entrance; there's not a forced note or extravagant moment within, with the music easily ebbing and flowing like water downhill. So self-confident were the bandmembers that they had no need for flashy musicianship, preferring instead to impress by the very understatement of their solos. The ambience is exquisite, casting a spell that isn't broken until the final note fades. A masterful album from start to finish.
Languorous atmospheres, lovely vocals, iridescent melodies, and shimmering solos combine on Bröselmaschine's self-titled 1971 debut album, the apotheosis of the German folk-prog scene. The quintet took their cue from England's Canterbury scene and even a traditional folk song, "Lassie," from that green and pleasant land. The band's signature sound was derived from Jenni Schucker's delicate and at times ethereal vocals in harmony with Willi Kissmer's stronger tenor, and that sound took on a Teutonic tinge when the pair switched from English to German lyrics. But it was the group's extraordinary use of acoustic and electric guitars that cemented its reputation. On "The Old Man's Song," one of four vocal cuts on the set, Kissmer's wah-wah guitar wafts and winds around Peter Bursch's acoustic strums. On "Gitarrenstück," the electric leads smolder like embers around the fiery acoustic rhythm guitar, while Schucker's wordless vocals float hauntingly above. It's the flute that soars overhead on "Gedanken," counterpointed by the moody Spanish-styled guitar, which itself is offset by the excitement of Kissmer's electric lead. Lutz Ringer's bassline adds an almost funky flair to "Lassie," and is also crucial to the album's two instrumentals, "Schmetterling" and the wittily titled "Nossa Bova." The former is a showcase for the band's percussionist, Mike Hellbach, who fills the number with tablas, instantly taking the sound into Eastern climes, a sighting enhanced by Bursch's sitar, even as a pastoral flute delicately dances above and the acoustic guitar shimmers in an ecstasy of chiming strums below. "Nossa Bova" also utilizes tablas, but its setting shivers between the Spanish plains and England's rolling rural hills. The music is gorgeous, but it's the relaxed atmospheres that truly entrance; there's not a forced note or extravagant moment within, with the music easily ebbing and flowing like water downhill. So self-confident were the bandmembers that they had no need for flashy musicianship, preferring instead to impress by the very understatement of their solos. The ambience is exquisite, casting a spell that isn't broken until the final note fades. A masterful album from start to finish.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:42 (thirteen years ago)
he quintet took their cue from England's Canterbury scene and even a traditional folk song, "Lassie," from that green and pleasant land.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:44 (thirteen years ago)
364. Lula Côrtes e Zé Ramalho - Paêbirú (678 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #41 for 1975 , #1805 overallhttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pbqRGfiCuGk/TBNadC4G35I/AAAAAAAAAhY/TgPPk-NmX0Y/s1600/paebiru.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2R7jOkZqSFbbkNu1UgXwDF
review[-] by Ned RaggettThanks to cult-creating stories about how nearly all original copies of this Brazilian double-album effort from 1975 were lost in a fire, Paebiru is one of those records that has to overcome a reputation -- it has to actually be good because it's good, not because it's rare. The 2005 re-release on Shadoks gave a chance for that concern to be addressed, and it must be said: Paebiru really is a fantastic album. With each of its original four sides named after the legendary four elements (earth, air, fire, water), Paebiru looks to aim high and does so pretty well, but the more telling thing about the album is how well Lula Côrtes and Zé Ramalho's work fits in the present day. Thanks to the continually reviving psych/freak/acid folk/jam scene, one could play most of this album next to the Sunburned Hand of the Man and Animal Collective discs with nobody blinking -- but the key difference is probably that Cortes and Ramalho, plus their many collaborators, are really sharp musicians and arrangers. There's a talented, easy fluidity about Ramalho's singing that, if rougher, isn't far removed from classic Brazilian pop singers of his time, while the most intense moments, such as the building multi-percussive/feedback freakout of "Culto a Terra," stand up readily now as they did then. Elsewhere, the beautiful, almost serene compositions interspersed throughout ("Bailado das Muscarias," which definitely is a dance tune regardless of lack of percussion; the blending of harp, flute, sax, and more on "Omm") create something pastoral and with a romantic late-night lounge feeling. The resultant blend of approaches and the variety throughout the album become more apparent even while each song is simply captivating on its own, and when they decide to conventionally rock out on "Nas Paredes da Pedra Encantada," the result is almost Can-like.
Thanks to cult-creating stories about how nearly all original copies of this Brazilian double-album effort from 1975 were lost in a fire, Paebiru is one of those records that has to overcome a reputation -- it has to actually be good because it's good, not because it's rare. The 2005 re-release on Shadoks gave a chance for that concern to be addressed, and it must be said: Paebiru really is a fantastic album. With each of its original four sides named after the legendary four elements (earth, air, fire, water), Paebiru looks to aim high and does so pretty well, but the more telling thing about the album is how well Lula Côrtes and Zé Ramalho's work fits in the present day. Thanks to the continually reviving psych/freak/acid folk/jam scene, one could play most of this album next to the Sunburned Hand of the Man and Animal Collective discs with nobody blinking -- but the key difference is probably that Cortes and Ramalho, plus their many collaborators, are really sharp musicians and arrangers. There's a talented, easy fluidity about Ramalho's singing that, if rougher, isn't far removed from classic Brazilian pop singers of his time, while the most intense moments, such as the building multi-percussive/feedback freakout of "Culto a Terra," stand up readily now as they did then. Elsewhere, the beautiful, almost serene compositions interspersed throughout ("Bailado das Muscarias," which definitely is a dance tune regardless of lack of percussion; the blending of harp, flute, sax, and more on "Omm") create something pastoral and with a romantic late-night lounge feeling. The resultant blend of approaches and the variety throughout the album become more apparent even while each song is simply captivating on its own, and when they decide to conventionally rock out on "Nas Paredes da Pedra Encantada," the result is almost Can-like.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:51 (thirteen years ago)
I need to hear that!!
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:54 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks to the continually reviving psych/freak/acid folk/jam scene, one could play most of this album next to the Sunburned Hand of the Man and Animal Collective discs with nobody blinking -- but the key difference is probably that Cortes and Ramalho, plus their many collaborators, are really sharp musicians and arrangers.
lol @ Ned cold burning animal collective
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:56 (thirteen years ago)
Lots of catching up to do..
Yes, but I can't remember if I voted for Roots? Think I voted for a different three albums. Anyway it's yet another great Curtis album. That run of his from Curtis to Short Eyes equals Stevie's run from Signed, Sealed & Delivered to Hotter Than July, it may even be better.
Again I'm shocked at the Cheap Trick positions I thought people loved them on here.
High on you is an amazing album, my third favourite album of his after Riot and Fresh. Haven't heard anything he did after that.
I never get tired of that Ian Dury album, complete classic. Wish it had been a lot higher.
First Earth, Wind & Fire album has become my favourite of theirs over the last few years (it was always That's The Way of the World before that) Perfect album, bit grittier than the stuff they did later on.
The Concept is a great album, a lot better than the debut. I still think I might like Stone Jam the most these days but it's a bit more disco and less funk.
Not a huge fan of that Meters album, Rejuvination is the one I'm waiting on. Love the artwork though.
Leave Home is the best Ramones album for me, again this is really low. I'm expecting the first and third albums to do very well, but with these results being so unpredicatable they may show up very soon.
I was in a pub once wearing my Klaus Nomi t-shirt and a woman came up to me who was also a fan, she said I'd love Nina Hagen. I ended up ordering a double disc compilation of her first two albums. Sadly I didn't like those albums at all, I'd rather stick with Lene Lovich. I wish I'd seen that woman again, I kind of feel like she owes me a tenner for persuading me to buy those albums.
― Kitchen Person, Sunday, 17 March 2013 20:56 (thirteen years ago)
363. WISHBONE ASH Wishbone Ash (683 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #94 for 1970 , #2935 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/043/MI0002043262.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5Ke3EkPPCB6OlyTxyBGeOy
review[-] by Dave SlegerFor a band that quickly evolved into a radio-friendly prog-leaning outfit, it's a wonder that Wishbone Ash started out as the boogie and blues-based group that this debut reveals. If the term "jam band" existed in 1970, Wishbone Ash surely would have been a major player in that genre. As it was, this album stacked up nicely when compared with other British hard rock releases that year. Not as complex or calculated as Led Zeppelin's Led Zeppelin III but definitely more focused than Mott the Hoople's Mad Shadows, Wishbone Ash more closely resembled Benefit by Jethro Tull, a group that hadn't yet adopted its own progressive elements. The dual lead guitar attack of Andy Powell and Ted Turner was a component that none of the above bands possessed, but unfortunately their (shared) lead vocals lacked the punch and authority necessary for hard rock bands to be taken seriously. So while they could rock as loudly and convincingly as virtually anyone, their lead singers, perhaps, held them back from being the force they should have been. The follow-up, Pilgrimage, took steps to rectify Wishbone Ash's odd position, but this album nevertheless opened eyes and ears and revealed to the rock & roll community a band with incredible potential and talent.
For a band that quickly evolved into a radio-friendly prog-leaning outfit, it's a wonder that Wishbone Ash started out as the boogie and blues-based group that this debut reveals. If the term "jam band" existed in 1970, Wishbone Ash surely would have been a major player in that genre. As it was, this album stacked up nicely when compared with other British hard rock releases that year. Not as complex or calculated as Led Zeppelin's Led Zeppelin III but definitely more focused than Mott the Hoople's Mad Shadows, Wishbone Ash more closely resembled Benefit by Jethro Tull, a group that hadn't yet adopted its own progressive elements. The dual lead guitar attack of Andy Powell and Ted Turner was a component that none of the above bands possessed, but unfortunately their (shared) lead vocals lacked the punch and authority necessary for hard rock bands to be taken seriously. So while they could rock as loudly and convincingly as virtually anyone, their lead singers, perhaps, held them back from being the force they should have been. The follow-up, Pilgrimage, took steps to rectify Wishbone Ash's odd position, but this album nevertheless opened eyes and ears and revealed to the rock & roll community a band with incredible potential and talent.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:01 (thirteen years ago)
such a good band.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:09 (thirteen years ago)
I forgot this one:
Wishbone Ash is a rather uncomplicated Prog Rock album as opposed to the other British Progressive Rock bands who operated at that time and even opposed to the band's next two albums, but it is executed wonderfully. I hold the notion that they were a mere good singer away from being a leading band within the genre already with this album. "Lady Whiskey" is a great specimen of the music Wishbone Ash played: A Progressive Rock which is a pure bliss of dual guitars that breaks mid-way in to a heavy jam. "Errors of My Way" however, is a stellar harmonic track with a simple Folk potential, but the band expands it by using vastly electric guitars, while "Queen of Torture" is characterized by a brutal offensive of drums and guitars among the fastest and most thunderous circa 1970. Side 2, the Proggier among the two, begins with a lengthy bass solo which ultimately evolves into a slow and mostly instrumental track titled "Handy" which dissolves, and after another short bass solo catches a jazzy beat which Powell improvises until an inevitable-for-the-time standard drum solo. Crowd's favorite "Phoenix," is also mosty instrumental and is still played in the band's shows to this day. This is definitely a good album even if it has its shortcomings, which bridges the heavy and progressive tendencies of Jethro Tull and the pathos of The Allman Brothers. -- R. Chelled
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:16 (thirteen years ago)
362. SIOUXSIE AND THE BANSHEES Join Hands (688 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #492 for 1979http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/119/MI0002119222.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7kNCy7A2WbgU4IQLViUCIo
But The Scream seems positively cheerful in light of its follow-up, Join Hands, a plodding, depressive album notable only for the commission of the band's "Lord's Prayer" butchery to vinyl. Two days into a tour to promote the album, Morris and McKay abruptly walked out; the Banshees drafted guitarist Robert Smith from opening act the Cure and ex-Big in Japan/Slits drummer Budgie and completed their concert schedule. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by David ClearySiouxsie and the Banshees made some wonderful albums in their time, such as Tinderbox, Hyaena, and Juju. Join Hands is unfortunately not one of them. The songs on this early release are almost uniformly grim, with dragging tempos, bleak lyrics, long and wandering free-form structures, static and often unfocused harmony, and thick, colorless arrangements. Siouxsie Sioux is not in her best vocal form here; much of her singing lacks punch and fire. The best selection here is "Icons," which survives an unpromising beginning to open out into a faster main section with fuller vocal sound and gutsier guitar work. The notorious number "The Lords Prayer" is a major punk landmark, featuring stream-of-consciousness lyrics that digress in every imaginable direction from the basic devotional text; regrettably, the song isn't very interesting to listen to despite its energetic instrumental playing. Another failed experiment is essayed in "Mother/Oh Mein Papa"; Sioux sings a lopsided melodic line out of sync with a music box playing the latter song of this pairing. Some of these selections appear to strongly anticipate the work of Joy Division's second album, Closer, especially "Placebo Effect," whose guitar sound was a clear inspiration for that of the Manchester band's song "Colony." Sound quality here is drab and squelched. Despite the group's laudable attempts to take some risks, it's difficult to recommend Join Hands.
Siouxsie and the Banshees made some wonderful albums in their time, such as Tinderbox, Hyaena, and Juju. Join Hands is unfortunately not one of them. The songs on this early release are almost uniformly grim, with dragging tempos, bleak lyrics, long and wandering free-form structures, static and often unfocused harmony, and thick, colorless arrangements. Siouxsie Sioux is not in her best vocal form here; much of her singing lacks punch and fire. The best selection here is "Icons," which survives an unpromising beginning to open out into a faster main section with fuller vocal sound and gutsier guitar work. The notorious number "The Lords Prayer" is a major punk landmark, featuring stream-of-consciousness lyrics that digress in every imaginable direction from the basic devotional text; regrettably, the song isn't very interesting to listen to despite its energetic instrumental playing. Another failed experiment is essayed in "Mother/Oh Mein Papa"; Sioux sings a lopsided melodic line out of sync with a music box playing the latter song of this pairing. Some of these selections appear to strongly anticipate the work of Joy Division's second album, Closer, especially "Placebo Effect," whose guitar sound was a clear inspiration for that of the Manchester band's song "Colony." Sound quality here is drab and squelched. Despite the group's laudable attempts to take some risks, it's difficult to recommend Join Hands.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:18 (thirteen years ago)
People who pretend they're not goths to thread
361. CHROME The Visitation (688 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #656 for 1976http://cdn.7static.com/static/img/sleeveart/00/011/575/0001157500_500.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6uaLvFOtvPtUk2WkKoH6gr
Being on the cusp of just about every rock’n’roll crossroads you’d care to mention, Chrome’s debut THE VISITATION is a particularly strange hybrid, having been conceived and executed during that unforgiving hinterland between ‘The Death of Prog’ and ‘The Birth of Punk’. Recorded in San Fransisco throughout 1976, and replete with poorly-photocopied lyric sheets and generally arty detritus, this self-released first LP’s home made sleeve implied far more vicious contents than the opening tracks delivered. Like KICK OUT THE JAMS, the opening song (no, two songs) of Chrome’s debut LP bore nothing more than a passing resemblance to the general canon of work that Edge & Co would output in the coming years; the debut even employing the services of a soon-to-be-jettisoned leader singer geezer, who went by the unconvincingly normal name of Mike Low; plus the chameleon-like lead guitarist John Lambdin, who seemed able to deliver whatever Damon Edge asked of him. On neither opening song (“How Many Years Too Soon?” and “Raider”) was there much evidence of the unprovenanced ur-scrawl that the insane record cover implied, Low’s euphoric pleading and whining set over the kind of well recorded Hendrix-inspired heavy rock (Uli Roth’s EARTHQUAKE LP meets Flower Travellin’ Band) that would – elsewhere – have us all creaming in our jeans. However, hard rock and psychedelia is never what Chrome should be thought to have represented. And only on track three “Return to Zanzibar” did the Chrome beast of legend finally shake itself from its dormant repose, as Damon Edge’s now familiarly scrawny complainathon vocal style – here particularly reminiscent of Fred ‘Sonic’ Smith - and Klaus Dinger-on-an-exercise-matt drum things kicked into the kind of white trash junkie funk that New York’s No Wave bands would appropriate two years hence. After that tune, Mike Low’s vocals finally gets with the Chrome programme for the steaming hothouse funk of side one’s closer “Caroline”, vocally approximating Edge, though without the bark or the rabid bite. Side two’s “Riding You” opens with all the Chrome elements in place, as disorientating tapes of laughter and FX in the manner of Pere Ubu’s Allen Ravenstein set the scene, but Lambdin’s frenetically strangled lead guitar is still way too straight for its musical setting. Thereafter come the Chrome classic “Kinky Lover”, an outrageous piece of clattering industrial funk that uses for its main riff John Cale’s brooding minor key take on Elvis’ “Heartbreak Hotel”3. “Sun Control” is a euphoric piece of drum’n’teatray insanity and Mike Low’s vocals are by now a positive gift to the overall sound, as more overly flanged funk riffs baste the listener until a beautiful Be Bop Deluxe-style coda ushers the song out. But THE VISITATION finishes disappointingly with the bland and overly-long percussion-driven West Coast psychedelia of “Memory Cords Over The Bay”, which concludes the LP with Chrome still retaining one foot in the old world. -- J. Cope
review[-] by Ned RaggettExhibiting a truly gone sense of rock and roll -- even without Creed, who wouldn't join until the following album -- Chrome here aren't quite the monster industrial/punk forebears of legend, but the original quartet still has something weird and wigged going for it. One of the best comments this reviewer ever heard about The Visitation was that it was early Brian Eno meets Santana, a judgment that best captures the strange mix going on. To be sure, Visitation isn't as laden with Latin funk as the latter, but Edge tries some odd percussion here and there, sometimes approaching Can's level of avant-garde groove. Guitarist Lambdin throws in a fair amount of reasonable enough soloing as well throughout, squelchy and heavily flanged guitar being the result when not offering up basic rhythm. It's good for what it is; there's certainly much worse out there. As for Eno, the opening song -- with a sudden musical rush building to the a capella title line, "How many years too soon?!" delivered in shrill, squealed nerd harmonies -- is hardly the Doobie Brothers. Strange electronic burps and shades and random drop-ins color the often sci-fi-tinged songs, so things are off in general, just not quite as frenetically so as later albums, with the exception of the thoroughly fried "My Time to Live." The higher vocals generally stay a bit calmer after the opening -- whichever singer it is, Lambdin or bassist Spain, has nowhere near as nails-on-chalkboard screechy warbling as, say, Geddy Lee, just possessed of a higher register and with reasonable control. The other lead singer sounds like a breathless Jagger imitator, which like the guitar playing is reasonable without being too distinct. In general, the four members sound like they want to do more than what the end result turned out to be, but the seeds were being sown nonetheless.
Exhibiting a truly gone sense of rock and roll -- even without Creed, who wouldn't join until the following album -- Chrome here aren't quite the monster industrial/punk forebears of legend, but the original quartet still has something weird and wigged going for it. One of the best comments this reviewer ever heard about The Visitation was that it was early Brian Eno meets Santana, a judgment that best captures the strange mix going on. To be sure, Visitation isn't as laden with Latin funk as the latter, but Edge tries some odd percussion here and there, sometimes approaching Can's level of avant-garde groove. Guitarist Lambdin throws in a fair amount of reasonable enough soloing as well throughout, squelchy and heavily flanged guitar being the result when not offering up basic rhythm. It's good for what it is; there's certainly much worse out there. As for Eno, the opening song -- with a sudden musical rush building to the a capella title line, "How many years too soon?!" delivered in shrill, squealed nerd harmonies -- is hardly the Doobie Brothers. Strange electronic burps and shades and random drop-ins color the often sci-fi-tinged songs, so things are off in general, just not quite as frenetically so as later albums, with the exception of the thoroughly fried "My Time to Live." The higher vocals generally stay a bit calmer after the opening -- whichever singer it is, Lambdin or bassist Spain, has nowhere near as nails-on-chalkboard screechy warbling as, say, Geddy Lee, just possessed of a higher register and with reasonable control. The other lead singer sounds like a breathless Jagger imitator, which like the guitar playing is reasonable without being too distinct. In general, the four members sound like they want to do more than what the end result turned out to be, but the seeds were being sown nonetheless.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:35 (thirteen years ago)
i gotta give u props ag. this poll has been great so far. i'm basically totally ignoring the kraut rock and prog in favor of remedial funk - all of which is totally setting my brain on fire. i also have never heard the tony allen album before and it's so good.
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:35 (thirteen years ago)
oh yeah, i'm ignoring the punk / proto-punk / post-punk stuff too
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:36 (thirteen years ago)
Fall album and Join Hands = ,2 more high placers from me. W00t!
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:39 (thirteen years ago)
Anyone want to volunteer to compile a spotify playlist of the results? Please? Its just too much hassle for fnb & I.
I have supplied the links beside the results so far (if available) so maybe a kind soul could volunteer to put them in? then if its collaborative I will then add each album as I go on.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:43 (thirteen years ago)
lol mordy so you're basically ignoring it all?
I'll do another 10 tonight if people are gonna be around the next hour or 2.
there's plenty of stuff on the list that meets my criteria! more than i could possibly listen to over course of poll!
― Mordy, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:46 (thirteen years ago)
359. ROXY MUSIC Stranded (689 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #72 for 1973 , #1978 overall | Acclaimed: #712http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/193/MI0002193564.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/46lN88zXwgNHAQnN9wWjiC
Any artist as oblique and ambitious as Bryan Ferry deserves an oblique, ambitious review, here provided (unintentionally) by Sidney Tillem in his "Figurative Art 1969: Aspects and Prospects": "By moral in the context of art I mean a style which executes the deeper social and psychological function of form, as opposed to a particular aspect of vanity called taste. Pop sensibility, pop consciousness, pop sentimentality have been invaluable in clarifying the provincialism and nostalgia that actually permeate a culture that has come to pride itself on sophistication. But they have not resulted in a new art simply because the requisite idealism has been lacking." B+ -- R. ChristgauBrian Eno departed after the second album, and ex-Curved Air violinist/keyboardist Eddie Jobson (a session man on Ferry's solo debut earlier that same year) joined, either precipitating or merely participating in the successful stylistic downshift of Stranded. Without Eno's "treatments," the third album (produced by Chris Thomas) has more subtle sound, favoring piano and restrained, stately songs such as the haunting "A Song for Europe" (one of two songs co-written by Manzanera), "Just Like You," "Psalm" and the second segment of "Mother of Pearl." Demonstrating the group's continuing ability to rock, "Serenade" and "Amazona" do it with dignity, while only the beginning of "Mother of Pearl" and the whirlingly chaotic "Street Life" dances around the maniac fringe. -- Trouser Press
Brian Eno departed after the second album, and ex-Curved Air violinist/keyboardist Eddie Jobson (a session man on Ferry's solo debut earlier that same year) joined, either precipitating or merely participating in the successful stylistic downshift of Stranded. Without Eno's "treatments," the third album (produced by Chris Thomas) has more subtle sound, favoring piano and restrained, stately songs such as the haunting "A Song for Europe" (one of two songs co-written by Manzanera), "Just Like You," "Psalm" and the second segment of "Mother of Pearl." Demonstrating the group's continuing ability to rock, "Serenade" and "Amazona" do it with dignity, while only the beginning of "Mother of Pearl" and the whirlingly chaotic "Street Life" dances around the maniac fringe. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineWithout Brian Eno, Roxy Music immediately became less experimental, yet it remained adventurous, as Stranded illustrates. Under the direction of Bryan Ferry, Roxy moved toward relatively straightforward territory, adding greater layers of piano and heavy guitars. Even without the washes of Eno's synthesizers, Roxy's music remains unsettling on occasion, yet in this new incarnation, they favor more measured material, whether it's the reflective "A Song for Europe" or the shifting textures of "Psalm." Even the rockers, such as the surging "Street Life" and the segmented "Mother of Pearl," are distinguished by subtle songwriting that emphasizes both Ferry's tortured glamour and Roxy's increasingly impressive grasp of sonic detail.
Without Brian Eno, Roxy Music immediately became less experimental, yet it remained adventurous, as Stranded illustrates. Under the direction of Bryan Ferry, Roxy moved toward relatively straightforward territory, adding greater layers of piano and heavy guitars. Even without the washes of Eno's synthesizers, Roxy's music remains unsettling on occasion, yet in this new incarnation, they favor more measured material, whether it's the reflective "A Song for Europe" or the shifting textures of "Psalm." Even the rockers, such as the surging "Street Life" and the segmented "Mother of Pearl," are distinguished by subtle songwriting that emphasizes both Ferry's tortured glamour and Roxy's increasingly impressive grasp of sonic detail.
359. HARLEM RIVER DRIVE Harlem River Drive (689 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #269 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/145/MI0002145529.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4ZG0CPuLEvVfVw6wEc2RaL
The reason this record is "legendary" is because it marks the first recorded performances, in 1970, of Eddie and Charlie Palmieri as bandleaders. The reason it should be a near mythical recording (it has never been available in the U.S. on CD, and was long out of print on LP before CDs made the scene), is for its musical quality and innovation. The Palmieris formed a band of themselves, a couple of Latinos that included Andy Gonzales, jazz-funk great -- even then -- Bernard "Pretty" Purdie, and some white guys and taught them how to play a music that was equal parts Cuban mambo, American soul via Stax/Volt, blues, Funkadelic-style rock, pop-jazz, and harmonic and instrumental arrangements every bit as sophisticated as Burt Bacharach's or Henry Mancini's or even Stan Kenton's. One can hear in "Harlem River Drive (Theme)" and "Idle Hands" a sound akin to War's on World Is a Ghetto. Guess where War got it? "If (We Had Peace)" was even a model for Lee Oskar's "City, Country, City." And as much as War modeled their later sound on this one record, as great as they were, they never reached this peak artistically. But there's so much here: the amazing vocals (Jimmy Noonan was in this band), the multi-dimensional percussion section, the tight, brass-heavy horn section, and the spaced-out guitar and keyboard work (give a listen to "Broken Home") where vocal lines trade with a soprano saxophone and a guitar as snaky keyboards create their own mystical effect. One can bet that Chick Corea heard in Eddie's piano playing a stylistic possibility for Return to Forever's Light As a Feather and Romantic Warrior albums. The band seems endless, as if there are dozens of musicians playing seamlessly together live -- dig the percussion styling of Manny Oquendo on the cowbell and conga and the choral work of Marilyn Hirscher and Allan Taylor behind Noonan. Harlem River Drive is a classic because after 30-plus years, it still sounds as if listeners are the ones catching up to it. It's worth every dime you pay for it, so special order it today.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:52 (thirteen years ago)
A TIE obviously
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:55 (thirteen years ago)
Idk why folks are so down on Join Hands for being doomy. To my ears it fits right in w many other Class of 79 albums, plus every song is better than the one before
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 21:57 (thirteen years ago)
Ya, I don't hear a big difference between Join Hands and The Scream. I pretty much want to hear every album that I haven't heard already, and would already be doing so if I wasn't bustin ass putting together all the stats and quotes! I'm out for a bit now.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:00 (thirteen years ago)
Stranded TOO LOW. And Manzanera's solo on "Amazona" is some seriously brilliant Pete Cosey shit.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:07 (thirteen years ago)
358. PiL Public Image (689 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #90 for 1978 , #4128 overall | Acclaimed: #1714http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/467/MI0002467232.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0MEDjqTfWEiFqdyyQXVTnX
The first of PiL's many lineups featured Keith Levene (guitar), Jah Wobble (bass) and Jim Walker (drums). The group's opening salvo, Public Image (aka First Issue, thanks to the album's arch magazine-cover design) couldn't seem to make up its mind between more-or-less straight rock (the unnaturally likable guitar drive of "Public Image") and musical endurance tests. "Annalisa" could be a Led Zeppelin backing track, but other cuts ("Theme," "Fodderstompf") are excruciating and/or self-indulgent. Lydon knew he wanted to annoy, but was still working out the best way to do it. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Uncle Dave LewisLike it or not, Public Image Limited's First Issue (aka Public Image) was an album that helped set the pace for what eventually became known as post-punk. In England a vacuum had opened up in the wake of the breakup of the Sex Pistols in January 1978, and many punk fans and rival groups were impatient to see what ex-Sex Pistols frontman John Lydon aka "Johnny Rotten" was going to roll out next. Disheartened owing to events in his legal proceedings against the Sex Pistols management company Glitterbest, and disgusted by the punk scene in general, Lydon was determined to create something that was neither punk nor even really rock as it was known in 1978. Working with ex-Clash guitarist Keith Levene, first-time bassist Jah Wobble, and Canadian drummer Jim Walker, Public Image Limited produced an album that represented the punk sound after it had shot itself in the head and became another entity entirely. Embracing elements of dub, progressive rock, noise, and atonality and driven by Lydon's lyrical egoism and predilection towards doom, death, and horror, First Issue was among a select few 1978 albums that had something lasting to say about the future of rock music. And not everyone in 1978 wanted to hear it; contemporary critical notices for First Issue were almost uniformly negative in the extreme.Not all of the material on First Issue was necessarily forward-looking: "Attack" and "Low Life" could almost pass muster as latter-day Sex Pistols songs if it weren't for their substandard production values. These two numbers were recorded late in the project, and on the cheap, as the fledgling Public Image Limited had already been kicked out of practically every reputable studio in London. And there was a bracing song about Lydon's pet peeve, "Religion," presented in both spoken and sung incarnations. It is about as vicious and personal an anti-Catholic diatribe as exists on record, and in its day was considered a high holy turnoff by many listeners. But from there it gets better -- Public Image Limited's debut single, "Public Image," was also included on First Issue, and Keith Levene's guitar part, with its tasty suspensions and held-over-the-bar syncopation, was an important departure from standard punk guitar language absorbed so quickly by others (the Pretenders, U2, the Smiths) that listeners and musicians alike forgot the source of the sound. First Issue's opener, "Theme," was a force to be reckoned with, a grindingly slow dirge with wild, almost Hendrix-like figurations on the guitar and Wobble's floor-splitting foundation. This was punk with the power of Led Zeppelin, but none of the pretension. Lydon's anguished mantra in "Theme," "...and I just wanna die," was the exact reflection of what his generation was thinking about in the wake of the collapse of classic punk. "Annalisa" is the hardest-kicking rocker on the album, with nosebleed-strength guitar from Levene; it is so good that Nirvana in all practical purposes purloined the whole number, with minor alterations, as "Radio Friendly Unit Shifter" on In Utero.But even with all of the calculated controversy seemingly built into the various cuts on First Issue, none attracted quite so much attention as "Fodderstompf." Faced with a serious shortage of material to fill out the album and with its release date looming, Public Image Limited decided to conclude the project with a track 12:55 in length, consisting of no more than a disco beat, chattering synthesizers, a bassline, and Jah Wobble singing, shouting, and screaming the phrase "we only wanted to be loved" in a joke voice. Rock critics savaged the song as a deliberate attempt to rip off the public, but it became hugely popular at the Studio 54 disco in New York; the drag queens and hipsters sang and screamed right along with Wobble out loud on the dancefloor -- nothing like that had ever happened at Studio 54. As it is perhaps the earliest extended dance mix that has little to do with disco or dub, it is apparent that "Fodderstompf" is an obvious precursor to the acid house and techno that began to evolve in the mid-'80s, although it is seldom accredited that distinction.After it was released in December 8, 1978, First Issue peaked at number 22 on the British album charts, and import copies were snapped up in America practically as soon as they were loaded off the boat. But Warner Bros., the American label to which Public Image Limited were signed, was unhappy with the album, particularly in that the label felt the bass was mixed too loudly -- no one had ever recorded the bass so hot on a regular LP before. Public Image Limited protested, but Warner Bros. stood fast and the band ultimately relented; in the early weeks of January 1979 the whole of First Issue was re-recorded for the American market. But the only portion of this project ever to surface appeared on the backside of the U.K. 12" single of "Death Disco" in July 1979, a mix of "Fodderstompf" minus the vocals, retitled "Megga Mix." Warner Bros. never released the remade album, and the remainder of it has since disappeared. By early 1980 Trouser Press was joking that the American issue of First Issue was the "longest rush release in recorded music history," but clearly long before First Issue was a "dead" issue with Warner Bros. Right after the remake session concluded, drummer Jim Walker surprised Public Image Limited by departing with no notice to join the interesting but now forgotten English group the Pack. In came ex-101'ers drummer Richard Dudanski, and by their next album, Metal Box, Public Image Limited had already worked out an entirely different sound and approach.
Like it or not, Public Image Limited's First Issue (aka Public Image) was an album that helped set the pace for what eventually became known as post-punk. In England a vacuum had opened up in the wake of the breakup of the Sex Pistols in January 1978, and many punk fans and rival groups were impatient to see what ex-Sex Pistols frontman John Lydon aka "Johnny Rotten" was going to roll out next. Disheartened owing to events in his legal proceedings against the Sex Pistols management company Glitterbest, and disgusted by the punk scene in general, Lydon was determined to create something that was neither punk nor even really rock as it was known in 1978. Working with ex-Clash guitarist Keith Levene, first-time bassist Jah Wobble, and Canadian drummer Jim Walker, Public Image Limited produced an album that represented the punk sound after it had shot itself in the head and became another entity entirely. Embracing elements of dub, progressive rock, noise, and atonality and driven by Lydon's lyrical egoism and predilection towards doom, death, and horror, First Issue was among a select few 1978 albums that had something lasting to say about the future of rock music. And not everyone in 1978 wanted to hear it; contemporary critical notices for First Issue were almost uniformly negative in the extreme.
Not all of the material on First Issue was necessarily forward-looking: "Attack" and "Low Life" could almost pass muster as latter-day Sex Pistols songs if it weren't for their substandard production values. These two numbers were recorded late in the project, and on the cheap, as the fledgling Public Image Limited had already been kicked out of practically every reputable studio in London. And there was a bracing song about Lydon's pet peeve, "Religion," presented in both spoken and sung incarnations. It is about as vicious and personal an anti-Catholic diatribe as exists on record, and in its day was considered a high holy turnoff by many listeners. But from there it gets better -- Public Image Limited's debut single, "Public Image," was also included on First Issue, and Keith Levene's guitar part, with its tasty suspensions and held-over-the-bar syncopation, was an important departure from standard punk guitar language absorbed so quickly by others (the Pretenders, U2, the Smiths) that listeners and musicians alike forgot the source of the sound. First Issue's opener, "Theme," was a force to be reckoned with, a grindingly slow dirge with wild, almost Hendrix-like figurations on the guitar and Wobble's floor-splitting foundation. This was punk with the power of Led Zeppelin, but none of the pretension. Lydon's anguished mantra in "Theme," "...and I just wanna die," was the exact reflection of what his generation was thinking about in the wake of the collapse of classic punk. "Annalisa" is the hardest-kicking rocker on the album, with nosebleed-strength guitar from Levene; it is so good that Nirvana in all practical purposes purloined the whole number, with minor alterations, as "Radio Friendly Unit Shifter" on In Utero.
But even with all of the calculated controversy seemingly built into the various cuts on First Issue, none attracted quite so much attention as "Fodderstompf." Faced with a serious shortage of material to fill out the album and with its release date looming, Public Image Limited decided to conclude the project with a track 12:55 in length, consisting of no more than a disco beat, chattering synthesizers, a bassline, and Jah Wobble singing, shouting, and screaming the phrase "we only wanted to be loved" in a joke voice. Rock critics savaged the song as a deliberate attempt to rip off the public, but it became hugely popular at the Studio 54 disco in New York; the drag queens and hipsters sang and screamed right along with Wobble out loud on the dancefloor -- nothing like that had ever happened at Studio 54. As it is perhaps the earliest extended dance mix that has little to do with disco or dub, it is apparent that "Fodderstompf" is an obvious precursor to the acid house and techno that began to evolve in the mid-'80s, although it is seldom accredited that distinction.
After it was released in December 8, 1978, First Issue peaked at number 22 on the British album charts, and import copies were snapped up in America practically as soon as they were loaded off the boat. But Warner Bros., the American label to which Public Image Limited were signed, was unhappy with the album, particularly in that the label felt the bass was mixed too loudly -- no one had ever recorded the bass so hot on a regular LP before. Public Image Limited protested, but Warner Bros. stood fast and the band ultimately relented; in the early weeks of January 1979 the whole of First Issue was re-recorded for the American market. But the only portion of this project ever to surface appeared on the backside of the U.K. 12" single of "Death Disco" in July 1979, a mix of "Fodderstompf" minus the vocals, retitled "Megga Mix." Warner Bros. never released the remade album, and the remainder of it has since disappeared. By early 1980 Trouser Press was joking that the American issue of First Issue was the "longest rush release in recorded music history," but clearly long before First Issue was a "dead" issue with Warner Bros. Right after the remake session concluded, drummer Jim Walker surprised Public Image Limited by departing with no notice to join the interesting but now forgotten English group the Pack. In came ex-101'ers drummer Richard Dudanski, and by their next album, Metal Box, Public Image Limited had already worked out an entirely different sound and approach.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:08 (thirteen years ago)
hope everyones enjoying the reviews, as fnb says, hes exhausted
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:10 (thirteen years ago)
Disappointed at how low Stranded is, hopefully the first album being at least top ten will make up for that.
Join Hands is one of the few Banshees albums I've never bothered with. I'm not a big fan of The Scream so I figured I wouldn't like that one either. For me they became a great band on the third album, when they got a bit poppier.
― Kitchen Person, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:13 (thirteen years ago)
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat)
Yes, that is possibly my favourite solo ever.
― Kitchen Person, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:14 (thirteen years ago)
357. GENESIS Nursery Cryme (696 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #30 for 1971 , #528 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/526/MI0001526522.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6hCrozhHxZ2kKQwc1qTPIB
God's wounds! It's a "rock" version of the myth of Hermaphroditus! In quotes cos the organist and the (mime-influenced) vocalist have the drummer a little confused! Or maybe it's just the invocation to Old King Cole! C- -- R. ChristgauThe countryside cottage in which (it says here) Genesis re-grouped their creative energies must have had a lot of strange stuff coming out of the walls to have been worthy of hosting this new contender for the coveted British weirdo-rock championship...Nursery Cryme's main proble lies not in Genesis' concepts, which are, if nothing else, outrageously imaginative and lovably eccentric, nor with their musical structures--long, involved, multi-movemented frameworks on which they hang their narratives--nor even with their playing, which does get pretty lethargic at points. It's the godawful production, a murky, distant stew that at best bubbles quietly when what is desperately needed are the explosions of drums and guitars, the screaming of the organ, the abrasive rasp of vocal cords.It might really be there, and at times you can actually detect a genuine electricity in their music (which lies roughly within the territory staked out by Yes, Strawbs and Family, with a touch of Procol Harum). It could be simply a matter of taking off the lid. Some numbers, including "The Musical Box," survive even under this handicap. "Harold the Barrel" moves well and features lots of enjoyable musical ideas and some fine lines. "Salmacis" swims about in a nicely drawn atmosphere and is a good example of Genesis' refusal to indulge in gratuitious eclecticism at the expense of rock & roll. And "Hogweed," while perhaps a bit stilted, is admirably ambitious and uses its excessive wordiness to humorous advantage.It's definitely a type of music that skulks down back alleys far from the beaten path, but if Genesis learn how to gear things up to explosion level and manage to develop their ideas a bit more thoroughly, they could be the ones to successfully repopulate those forgotten passageways. -- Richard Cromelin, RS
The countryside cottage in which (it says here) Genesis re-grouped their creative energies must have had a lot of strange stuff coming out of the walls to have been worthy of hosting this new contender for the coveted British weirdo-rock championship...Nursery Cryme's main proble lies not in Genesis' concepts, which are, if nothing else, outrageously imaginative and lovably eccentric, nor with their musical structures--long, involved, multi-movemented frameworks on which they hang their narratives--nor even with their playing, which does get pretty lethargic at points. It's the godawful production, a murky, distant stew that at best bubbles quietly when what is desperately needed are the explosions of drums and guitars, the screaming of the organ, the abrasive rasp of vocal cords.
It might really be there, and at times you can actually detect a genuine electricity in their music (which lies roughly within the territory staked out by Yes, Strawbs and Family, with a touch of Procol Harum). It could be simply a matter of taking off the lid. Some numbers, including "The Musical Box," survive even under this handicap. "Harold the Barrel" moves well and features lots of enjoyable musical ideas and some fine lines. "Salmacis" swims about in a nicely drawn atmosphere and is a good example of Genesis' refusal to indulge in gratuitious eclecticism at the expense of rock & roll. And "Hogweed," while perhaps a bit stilted, is admirably ambitious and uses its excessive wordiness to humorous advantage.
It's definitely a type of music that skulks down back alleys far from the beaten path, but if Genesis learn how to gear things up to explosion level and manage to develop their ideas a bit more thoroughly, they could be the ones to successfully repopulate those forgotten passageways. -- Richard Cromelin, RS
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineIf Genesis truly established themselves as progressive rockers on Trespass, Nursery Cryme is where their signature persona was unveiled: true English eccentrics, one part Lewis Carroll and one part Syd Barrett, creating a fanciful world that emphasized the band's instrumental prowess as much as Peter Gabriel's theatricality. Which isn't to say that all of Nursery Cryme works. There are times when the whimsy is overwhelming, just as there are periods when there's too much instrumental indulgence, yet there's a charm to this indulgence, since the group is letting itself run wild. Even if they've yet to find the furthest reaches of their imagination, part of the charm is hearing them test out its limits, something that does result in genuine masterpieces, as on "The Musical Box" and "The Return of the Giant Hogweed," two epics that dominate the first side of the album and give it its foundation. If the second side isn't quite as compelling or quite as structured, it doesn't quite matter because these are the songs that showed what Genesis could do, and they still stand as pinnacles of what the band could achieve.
If Genesis truly established themselves as progressive rockers on Trespass, Nursery Cryme is where their signature persona was unveiled: true English eccentrics, one part Lewis Carroll and one part Syd Barrett, creating a fanciful world that emphasized the band's instrumental prowess as much as Peter Gabriel's theatricality. Which isn't to say that all of Nursery Cryme works. There are times when the whimsy is overwhelming, just as there are periods when there's too much instrumental indulgence, yet there's a charm to this indulgence, since the group is letting itself run wild. Even if they've yet to find the furthest reaches of their imagination, part of the charm is hearing them test out its limits, something that does result in genuine masterpieces, as on "The Musical Box" and "The Return of the Giant Hogweed," two epics that dominate the first side of the album and give it its foundation. If the second side isn't quite as compelling or quite as structured, it doesn't quite matter because these are the songs that showed what Genesis could do, and they still stand as pinnacles of what the band could achieve.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:20 (thirteen years ago)
First Roxy Music album got lots of points from me
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:31 (thirteen years ago)
356. DESTROY ALL MONSTERS Bored (701 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #272 for 1999
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/257/MI0000257020.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1fOr0rL0qlXroZVjiKDuae
The original incarnation of Destroy All Monsters never widely released any official recordings, and by 1976 both Shaw and Kelley had exited to continue their graphic art careers, both later gaining considerable notoriety as underground talents. Niagara and Loren continued on, recruiting brothers Larry and Ben Miller (space guitar and saxophone, respectively); within six months, former Stooges guitarist Ron Asheton and onetime MC5 bassist Michael Davis had also signed on, pointing the group's sound in a more dynamic and energetic direction. Upon releasing their first-ever single, 1978's "Bored," Destroy All Monsters became darlings of the British music press, based largely upon the connection to the Stooges' legacy; "Bored" was soon set for U.K. release on the Cherry Red label, which licensed the record before ever even hearing it.Live in Tokyo & OsakaEven as a second single, "Meet the Creeper," was being readied for release, Destroy All Monsters was coming apart; tensions within the group had come to a head when Niagara left longtime boyfriend Loren to hook up with Asheton, and soon Loren, as well as the Miller brothers, left the band over creative differences.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:37 (thirteen years ago)
Lots of albums not released at the time so far it seems(all nominated by the same 2 people I bet!)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:40 (thirteen years ago)
"Annalisa" could be a Led Zeppelin backing track
I can actually see what they mean! Tbh, I was mostly judging PiL on the basis of Second Edition and Flowers of Romance. Maybe I should try the first album some time. "Public Image" isn't bad either.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:53 (thirteen years ago)
I mentioned this on the trax poll, but Ben Miller (DAM's saxophonist) is doing some amazing work these days with prepared/tabletop guitar and his Sensorium Saxophone Orchestra.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:55 (thirteen years ago)
355. JOHN MCLAUGHLIN Devotion (704 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #207 for 1970http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/550/MI0002550757.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/67cMrZwEy3LMkVWxKZI0Ai
McLaughlin reminds me as much of Duane Eddy as of John Coltrane--he loves electric noise for its own sake and rocks more naturally than he swings. Here Buddy Miles provides his usual ham-handed thump, a universe away from Tony Williams's sallies, and McLaughlin just marches along on top, his tone supremely heavy by choice. But like Coltrane, though in a much more detached way, he can get enormous mileage out of harmonic ideas whose simplicity is probably one source of the spirituality he generates. Rarely has a rock improvisation been more basic or more thoughtfully conceived than on the little track, where he and Larry Young trade the same elemental motif for so long it turns into an electric mantra. A -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Sean WestergaardThis album is from a pivotal moment in McLaughlin's history. This was just after he left Miles' group, but before Mahavishnu Orchestra started, and the music captures this moment perfectly. McLaughlin's technique had not progressed to "Mahavishnu" perfection yet, but the music has the in-your-face rock drive of the Mahavishnu Orchestra. This recording date grew out of sessions Alan Douglas put together, featuring McLaughlin and Larry Young jamming with Jimi Hendrix and Buddy Miles (Billy Rich was the bass player). McLaughlin sounded timid next to Hendrix (none of the material with Hendrix has been officially released), but really comes to life on Devotion. This is arguably one of the finest acid rock albums of all time. McLaughlin is on fire, using fuzzboxes and phasers, over Larry Young's swirling Hammond B-3, with Billy Rich and Buddy Miles as the rock-solid rhythm section. If you think that McLaughlin's solo at the end of "Right Off" (from A Tribute to Jack Johnson) is one of the high points of his career, then this is the album for you. Soon after this album was recorded, McLaughlin holed up, practiced like crazy, and re-emerged as "Mahavishnu" John McLaughlin, with both a new sound and a new band. Documenting the period just before that transition, Devotion is a complete anomaly in his catalog, as well as one of his finest achievements.
This album is from a pivotal moment in McLaughlin's history. This was just after he left Miles' group, but before Mahavishnu Orchestra started, and the music captures this moment perfectly. McLaughlin's technique had not progressed to "Mahavishnu" perfection yet, but the music has the in-your-face rock drive of the Mahavishnu Orchestra. This recording date grew out of sessions Alan Douglas put together, featuring McLaughlin and Larry Young jamming with Jimi Hendrix and Buddy Miles (Billy Rich was the bass player). McLaughlin sounded timid next to Hendrix (none of the material with Hendrix has been officially released), but really comes to life on Devotion. This is arguably one of the finest acid rock albums of all time. McLaughlin is on fire, using fuzzboxes and phasers, over Larry Young's swirling Hammond B-3, with Billy Rich and Buddy Miles as the rock-solid rhythm section. If you think that McLaughlin's solo at the end of "Right Off" (from A Tribute to Jack Johnson) is one of the high points of his career, then this is the album for you. Soon after this album was recorded, McLaughlin holed up, practiced like crazy, and re-emerged as "Mahavishnu" John McLaughlin, with both a new sound and a new band. Documenting the period just before that transition, Devotion is a complete anomaly in his catalog, as well as one of his finest achievements.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:55 (thirteen years ago)
sund4r did you vote for this?
#7
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:58 (thirteen years ago)
Lawrence of Newark maybe shouldve been nominated as well but this is cool
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 17 March 2013 22:58 (thirteen years ago)
harlem river drive is such a good album ...
cover art is truly perfect as well ...
― mark e, Sunday, 17 March 2013 23:12 (thirteen years ago)
354. HAWKWIND Doremi Fasol Latido (705 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #59 for 1972 , #1739 overall | Acclaimed: #2445http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/776/MI0002776955.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3L8loctj4t0QbqBH3NTcoU
Doremi Fasol Latido is Hawkwind's first strong album. The band's intensity was lifted a notch or two by the manic hyper-drive of new bassist and occasional guitarist Ian "Lemmy" Kilmister, who had played in '60s beat group the Rockin' Vicars and horrible drummerless psychedelicians Sam Gopal. Also, Robert Calvert, who'd drifted into the group's periphery, began to shape its mythology, writing and declaiming some of its lyrics, just as Turner's own writing was starting to emerge. -- Trouser PressThe first release after their surprising successful “Silver Machine” single, “Doremi Fasol Latido” was an album that saw Hawkwind gel into highly combustive space metal that continued for one serious year and half period as their new rhythm section of Ian “Lemmy” Kilminster on bass and Simon King on drums joined the classic MK whatever lineup consisting of Dave Brock, Nik Turner, Robert Calvert, Dikmik, Del Dettmar and Stacia. The pummeling rhythms of “Silver Machine” and the driving nowhere-ness of “Seven By Seven” had already exhibited Hawkwind’s newly forged sound that was far more muscular and driving than their previous albums. In fact, “X In Search Of Space” found most of the members so unconfident of their musical capabilities that they asked to be turned DOWN in the mix! But on “Doremi” all instruments were now wielded as weapons of psychic warfare as the Sonic Assassins commence to break down the bad vibe squad in the most reckless and stupor-fying ways. “Doremi Fasol Latido” saw their building energies emerge into a single vision, housed in a sleek black and silver chrome sleeve comprised of seven crossfaded tracks that were their heaviest, drug-numbed blur-outs ever.Nik Turner’s “Brainstorm”, a track that occupies a fourth of the entire album, opens it up with a near mono-chord assault that speeds across Turner’s rant-style vocals that proclaim:“And this body of mine (I don’t want to be destroyed)Body of mine (And I don’t want to turn android)Body of mine (You gotta help me avoid that)Brainstorm -- brainstorm -- brainstorm...You miss it -- you bet I kiss it!”And the fractured, heavy cacophony that accompanies these lines run throughout labyrinths of time and space for what seems a quick eternity, featuring Brock’s psy-wah-wah penetration and Simon King’s ever-driving drum fills. Eight minutes later, it finally falls apart and into the wormhole that is the near-spoken, drum-less intro of “Space Is Deep.” Beginning as a psychedelic acoustic busker with accompanying twittering synthesizer backing, it soon dissolves into a droning synthesizer and guitar DNA model that begins to levitate, spiraling upwards and out into the beyond into a shining, transcendental pinnacle. The brief Del Dettmar solo keyboard vignette “One Change” ends the side quietly.“Lord Of Light” starts side two with a phlanged and over-echoed guitar riff as Lemmy and King jump into the fray at once with metronomic rhythms and everything is soon pulsing ceaselessly due to the heavy phasing on EVERYTHING and it builds and builds continually as flames burst from Hawkwind Mothership’s fuselage, pushed far beyond the limits of its already over-taxed capabilities. It made perfect sense that Amon Düül 2 engineer, Peter Krampner remixed this track for an exclusive West German single release, as not only this but the majority of tracks on “Doremi Fasol Latido” share similar musical characteristics with Amon Düül 2. In fact, “Time We Left This World Today”, the heavily repetitive minor chord trance out that occupies a large chunk of side two, is extremely similar to Amon Düül 2’s “Stumbling Over Melted Moonlight” as the bass line from this track gets hijacked by Lemmy into a propelling zone out. The bass line winds up skewering the chanting vocals, FX’ed guitars and keyboard stutters and everything else on a kebab of thundering psychedelic metal.The album’s closing track, “The Watcher,” is a paranoid acoustic trip with Lemmy in strung out ‘observer’ mode as his amphetamine-cracked vocals and fuzz-bass revive elements from “You’re Alone Now,” a track he recorded with Sam Gopal for their 1968 album, “Escalator.” And now it was transformed into a stark ending for an album that succeeded in blurring all aural distinctions between inner and outer space, and the near-constant use of VCS3 and audio generator provide a backdrop for the entire album as twinkling yet forbidding as a nighttime display of stars in the cold dead of night. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
The first release after their surprising successful “Silver Machine” single, “Doremi Fasol Latido” was an album that saw Hawkwind gel into highly combustive space metal that continued for one serious year and half period as their new rhythm section of Ian “Lemmy” Kilminster on bass and Simon King on drums joined the classic MK whatever lineup consisting of Dave Brock, Nik Turner, Robert Calvert, Dikmik, Del Dettmar and Stacia. The pummeling rhythms of “Silver Machine” and the driving nowhere-ness of “Seven By Seven” had already exhibited Hawkwind’s newly forged sound that was far more muscular and driving than their previous albums. In fact, “X In Search Of Space” found most of the members so unconfident of their musical capabilities that they asked to be turned DOWN in the mix! But on “Doremi” all instruments were now wielded as weapons of psychic warfare as the Sonic Assassins commence to break down the bad vibe squad in the most reckless and stupor-fying ways. “Doremi Fasol Latido” saw their building energies emerge into a single vision, housed in a sleek black and silver chrome sleeve comprised of seven crossfaded tracks that were their heaviest, drug-numbed blur-outs ever.
Nik Turner’s “Brainstorm”, a track that occupies a fourth of the entire album, opens it up with a near mono-chord assault that speeds across Turner’s rant-style vocals that proclaim:
“And this body of mine (I don’t want to be destroyed)Body of mine (And I don’t want to turn android)Body of mine (You gotta help me avoid that)Brainstorm -- brainstorm -- brainstorm...You miss it -- you bet I kiss it!”
And the fractured, heavy cacophony that accompanies these lines run throughout labyrinths of time and space for what seems a quick eternity, featuring Brock’s psy-wah-wah penetration and Simon King’s ever-driving drum fills. Eight minutes later, it finally falls apart and into the wormhole that is the near-spoken, drum-less intro of “Space Is Deep.” Beginning as a psychedelic acoustic busker with accompanying twittering synthesizer backing, it soon dissolves into a droning synthesizer and guitar DNA model that begins to levitate, spiraling upwards and out into the beyond into a shining, transcendental pinnacle. The brief Del Dettmar solo keyboard vignette “One Change” ends the side quietly.
“Lord Of Light” starts side two with a phlanged and over-echoed guitar riff as Lemmy and King jump into the fray at once with metronomic rhythms and everything is soon pulsing ceaselessly due to the heavy phasing on EVERYTHING and it builds and builds continually as flames burst from Hawkwind Mothership’s fuselage, pushed far beyond the limits of its already over-taxed capabilities. It made perfect sense that Amon Düül 2 engineer, Peter Krampner remixed this track for an exclusive West German single release, as not only this but the majority of tracks on “Doremi Fasol Latido” share similar musical characteristics with Amon Düül 2. In fact, “Time We Left This World Today”, the heavily repetitive minor chord trance out that occupies a large chunk of side two, is extremely similar to Amon Düül 2’s “Stumbling Over Melted Moonlight” as the bass line from this track gets hijacked by Lemmy into a propelling zone out. The bass line winds up skewering the chanting vocals, FX’ed guitars and keyboard stutters and everything else on a kebab of thundering psychedelic metal.
The album’s closing track, “The Watcher,” is a paranoid acoustic trip with Lemmy in strung out ‘observer’ mode as his amphetamine-cracked vocals and fuzz-bass revive elements from “You’re Alone Now,” a track he recorded with Sam Gopal for their 1968 album, “Escalator.” And now it was transformed into a stark ending for an album that succeeded in blurring all aural distinctions between inner and outer space, and the near-constant use of VCS3 and audio generator provide a backdrop for the entire album as twinkling yet forbidding as a nighttime display of stars in the cold dead of night. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
reviewby Mike DeGagneDoremi may not be Hawkwind's most renowned album, but it carries the same type of prog rock spaciness as their first two releases. Even though the keyboard playing is trimmed down just a tad, the introduction of Ian Kilmister, otherwise known as Lemmy of Motörhead fame, makes up for it. With Lemmy's hard-lined guitar playing and Del Dettmar's synthesizer stabs, tracks like "Space Is Deep" and "The Watcher" are infused with elaborate instrumental meanderings in perfect Hawkwind fashion. The longer tracks, both "Brainstorm" and "Time We Left This World Today," have Lemmy getting settled in the band's extraordinary milieu, but end up being the album's strongest cuts. There's a harder feel to the songs all the way through, with the guitar and drums coming to the forefront ahead of Dik and Mik's "generators" and "hot electronics." Doremi is the inaugural album for drummer Simon King, and with guitarist Dave Anderson and percussion man Terry Ollis now departed, Hawkwind still manages to muster up a firm intergalactic space-metal atmosphere...only with a more rugged thrust.
Doremi may not be Hawkwind's most renowned album, but it carries the same type of prog rock spaciness as their first two releases. Even though the keyboard playing is trimmed down just a tad, the introduction of Ian Kilmister, otherwise known as Lemmy of Motörhead fame, makes up for it. With Lemmy's hard-lined guitar playing and Del Dettmar's synthesizer stabs, tracks like "Space Is Deep" and "The Watcher" are infused with elaborate instrumental meanderings in perfect Hawkwind fashion. The longer tracks, both "Brainstorm" and "Time We Left This World Today," have Lemmy getting settled in the band's extraordinary milieu, but end up being the album's strongest cuts. There's a harder feel to the songs all the way through, with the guitar and drums coming to the forefront ahead of Dik and Mik's "generators" and "hot electronics." Doremi is the inaugural album for drummer Simon King, and with guitarist Dave Anderson and percussion man Terry Ollis now departed, Hawkwind still manages to muster up a firm intergalactic space-metal atmosphere...only with a more rugged thrust.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 23:16 (thirteen years ago)
If you dig: Space Rock, Krautrock, Pink Floyd, Psych, Jams. In November they released their third album, Doremi Fasol Latido, which came with a poster and reached the 14th place in the UK sales chart. "Brainstorm," as is "Time We Left This World Today," highlight Lemmy, as the heavy bass rules the sound with an iron first and sets the tone for the rest of the album. The dream-like "Space is Deep" benefits from Dik Mik's and Del Dettmar's electronic skills while "Lord of Light" serves as a less floaty and mysterious break, even catchy. Loved it? Try: Samety, Amon Duul II, Nektar, Vinegar. -- R. Chelled
The first Hawkwind album I ever got, perfect introduction alongwith the double live album that everyone rates.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 17 March 2013 23:26 (thirteen years ago)
353. METAL URBAIN Les hommes morts sont dangereux (707 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #229 for 1981 http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/658/MI0000658835.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
reviewby Peter SchaeferA collection of songs from singles and BBC sessions more than a cohesive album, still it presents an excellent overview of this tremendously innovative group. Crushing distorted guitars combine with a drum machine and experimental synthesizer sounds to startling effect on tracks such as "Hystérie Connective" and "Panik," while the slowed tempo and layered electronics of "Lady Coca-Cola" sound as dark and menacing as any music of the era. Metal Urbain was not known for excessive variation, and their relentless formula is difficult to take throughout the entire 16 tracks on Les Hommes Mort Sont Dangereux, though the inclusion of all the songs from their singles makes this a worthwhile acquisition. The original edition came with a free 7".
A collection of songs from singles and BBC sessions more than a cohesive album, still it presents an excellent overview of this tremendously innovative group. Crushing distorted guitars combine with a drum machine and experimental synthesizer sounds to startling effect on tracks such as "Hystérie Connective" and "Panik," while the slowed tempo and layered electronics of "Lady Coca-Cola" sound as dark and menacing as any music of the era. Metal Urbain was not known for excessive variation, and their relentless formula is difficult to take throughout the entire 16 tracks on Les Hommes Mort Sont Dangereux, though the inclusion of all the songs from their singles makes this a worthwhile acquisition. The original edition came with a free 7".
Another of the 70s not released til later albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 23:32 (thirteen years ago)
it looks weird these albums that have the rym year beside them
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 23:34 (thirteen years ago)
352. THE STRANGLERS Rattus Norvegicus (708 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #44 for 1977 , #1761 overall | Acclaimed: #1259http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/225/MI0002225575.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2h6cfDyixzatw4bKFshozy
These guys combine the sensitivity and erudition of ? and the Mysterians with the street smarts of the Doors and detest the act of love with a humorless intensity worthy of Anthony Comstock. You can tell by the way they discreetly bring up subjects like musicianship and education in interviews that, just as they claim, they don't belong to anybody's new wave. Too dumb. C -- R. ChristgauThe first album was produced by Martin Rushent (who continued to work with them through 1979's live LP). Rattus Norvegicus includes both sides of the awesome debut single, "London Lady" and "(Get a) Grip (on Yourself)," as well as other blunt gonad-grabbers like "Hanging Around" and "Sometimes." The violently emotional lyrics and bitterly spat vocals are supported by Jean-Jacques Burnel's almost impossibly deep-throated bass grunts and Hugh Cornwell's slashing guitar, with contrasting jolly organ sounds by Dave Greenfield providing the only relief from otherwise relentless aggression. A great album. The UK edition initially included a free single, "Choosey Suzie" b/w "Peasant in the Big Shitty." -- Trouser Press
The first album was produced by Martin Rushent (who continued to work with them through 1979's live LP). Rattus Norvegicus includes both sides of the awesome debut single, "London Lady" and "(Get a) Grip (on Yourself)," as well as other blunt gonad-grabbers like "Hanging Around" and "Sometimes." The violently emotional lyrics and bitterly spat vocals are supported by Jean-Jacques Burnel's almost impossibly deep-throated bass grunts and Hugh Cornwell's slashing guitar, with contrasting jolly organ sounds by Dave Greenfield providing the only relief from otherwise relentless aggression. A great album. The UK edition initially included a free single, "Choosey Suzie" b/w "Peasant in the Big Shitty." -- Trouser Press
review[-] by David ClearyLike the Vibrators, the Stranglers were an older band which managed to gain visibility and success through association with Britain's punk movement. Musically, the group is much more polished than some of their rawer brethren such as the Adverts and Siouxsie and the Banshees. the Stranglers' early work is most properly described as stripped-down pop played with a hardcore sensibility; fairly lengthy songs with frequent solo breaks, prominent keyboard usage, and occasional employment of vocal harmony sets them apart from their peers. But snarling lead singing that puts forth macho/critical/distasteful lyrics predominates here, clearly showing the group's punk affinity. Most of the songs on this album fit the description of hardcore pop to a tee, but there are a few deviations from this model. "Princess of the Streets" is a slow-tempo selection with blueslike echoes. The ambitious "Down in the Sewer" crosses the concept of episodic numbers like the Who's "A Quick One" with early-'60s instrumentals. And the energetic "London Lady" is almost a true punk song -- or at least as close as the band gets to one. While not the equal of their best album, No More Heroes, this release is solid and worthwhile, a rewarding listen.
Like the Vibrators, the Stranglers were an older band which managed to gain visibility and success through association with Britain's punk movement. Musically, the group is much more polished than some of their rawer brethren such as the Adverts and Siouxsie and the Banshees. the Stranglers' early work is most properly described as stripped-down pop played with a hardcore sensibility; fairly lengthy songs with frequent solo breaks, prominent keyboard usage, and occasional employment of vocal harmony sets them apart from their peers. But snarling lead singing that puts forth macho/critical/distasteful lyrics predominates here, clearly showing the group's punk affinity. Most of the songs on this album fit the description of hardcore pop to a tee, but there are a few deviations from this model. "Princess of the Streets" is a slow-tempo selection with blueslike echoes. The ambitious "Down in the Sewer" crosses the concept of episodic numbers like the Who's "A Quick One" with early-'60s instrumentals. And the energetic "London Lady" is almost a true punk song -- or at least as close as the band gets to one. While not the equal of their best album, No More Heroes, this release is solid and worthwhile, a rewarding listen.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 17 March 2013 23:48 (thirteen years ago)
351. URIAH HEEP ...Very 'Eavy Very 'Umble... (708 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #291 for 1970http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ceO6UAIwznY/UPWRjaTug_I/AAAAAAAACBw/ugYYFv0RUGo/s1600/Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/18gJDClkyxHW6YTdo18Qil
Uriah Heep's debut is the weak partner in the trio of early '70s metal records which I consider the true originators of the genre, the other two being In Rock and Paranoid. Weak partner, because it's the least whompingly heavy, yet included because it's every bit the innovator, o'erflowing with bombast, fire-breathing guitars, and the eerie, gothic-taciturn emotion that finally steered aggressive rock away from the blues and/or psychedelia into molten new terrain. And the pronouncement couldn't have been much more mentally devastating than opening classic "Gypsy," a sinner's march par excellence, one of the most regal marriages of crunching organ and power chords ever forged in fire, one that strangely enough melts in a nuclear flash the two groundbreaking camps of Sabbath and Purple through superior production... "Bird Of Prey," arguably the band's most raging work of genius, a searing blend of glowing Byron operatics and sinister metal craftsmanship which previewed Heep's progressive metal side spendidly. -- 7/7 M. Popoff
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:10 (thirteen years ago)
that cover freaks me the fuck out
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 00:11 (thirteen years ago)
I was tempted to post it to your wall but I'll be nice to you since you've been commenting a lot!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:12 (thirteen years ago)
That was the last one for tonight obviously.
Viceroy will post a recap later I think. Anybody who is playing catch up it would be great to see you discussing any of the albums posted today or even before.
Always nice to hear of people discovering new stuff too. Mordy discovering the mighty Curtis Mayfield was a particular highlight!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:15 (thirteen years ago)
Anyone want to volunteer to compile a spotify playlist of the results? Please?Its just too much hassle for fnb & I.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, March 17, 2013 9:43 PM (Yesterday)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:22 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks AG!
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:31 (thirteen years ago)
Enjoying being a co-runner fnb? viceroy found it quite stressful and I know jjj did in metal polls past, so I assume you do to?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:37 (thirteen years ago)
Big thanks for the hardwork on finding all those reviews just leaving me to find the AMG ones and album covers. Its made things a lot easier.
Hope everyone appreciates the reviews n stuff fastnbulbous has kindly provided us with!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:39 (thirteen years ago)
thanks AG and FnB, nice work lads hit the showers
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 00:47 (thirteen years ago)
This has been really cool so far. Plenty of my favourites, lots of new albums to discover and a few albums I'm sure you guys have made up.
― Kitchen Person, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:48 (thirteen years ago)
Glad to help, just wanted to make it special, something that, if it were pre-web days I'd bind this shit up in a leather cover (stamped with badass skull) and use for reference!
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 00:48 (thirteen years ago)
yeah FnB those are great! (if a little infuriating)
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Monday, 18 March 2013 01:02 (thirteen years ago)
I quite enjoy reading Christgau being wrong all the time. Dont really care how good a writer he is if he's so blatantly wrong all the time with dodgy taste to boot.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 01:06 (thirteen years ago)
Best thing about this poll, apart from everyone discussing the albums/bands, is the fact people are hearing awesome new music (like mordy with funk)
Albums may be placing low in the 500, but out of 1000 nominated and f*** knows how many were recorded in the 70s, its pretty high really and 4 or 5 people at least seem to really like them and perhaps if everyone heard them they might like them almost as much as the albums they already like?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 01:11 (thirteen years ago)
(one of my discoveries through the nominations is up next even though I had already voted so couldnt give it any points)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 01:13 (thirteen years ago)
Again, been out all night and just catching up. My reactions from scanning the thread so far:
a) I am actually ASTOUNDED that Udu Wudu is so low. I mean, more so than stuff I like more that is lower. I figured this was a very well regarded album?
b) WTF how is most krautrock 'cold'? There is maybe one strain that is, but fuck me, stuff like Can is so warm and enveloping it's ridiculous. I'd say it's the kosmische vs 'kraut' thing again, where maybe Mordy would like the former (which is much more hippy) and not the latter (which is more punk)? Can are like the mid-point, though, massive hippies with a motorik beat.
c) aw, Black Widow. That album probably doesn't deserve to place any higher, but 'Come to the Sabbat' is one of the best songs ever.
― emil.y, Monday, 18 March 2013 01:31 (thirteen years ago)
Oh also,
― C: (crüt), Sunday, March 17, 2013 3:30 PM (Yesterday) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
Metalols
― emil.y, Monday, 18 March 2013 01:32 (thirteen years ago)
can't believe that Stranded and the first Cheap Trick album placed so low! those are two albums very dear to my heart.
also as i was saying to AG earlier, while the corresponding 80s poll probably appealed more directly to people's sense of nostalgia and personal recollection, i'm personally enjoying these results more; it's proving a lot more educational for me for a start. and the eclecticism of it is pretty great, particularly now that i can actually touch base with a lot of the obscure stuff on spotify.
― charlie h, Monday, 18 March 2013 01:40 (thirteen years ago)
cover connection
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/550/MI0002550757.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://www.jazzmusicarchives.com/images/covers/nicky-skopelitis-revelator-with-raoul-bjorkenheim-20120308071335.jpg
― cock chirea, Monday, 18 March 2013 01:54 (thirteen years ago)
i was under the impression people don't give a fuck about post-kohntarkosz magma, the non fans at least. the only well regarded song in udu wudu seems to be "de futura" while the other stuff on the record tends to be perceived as wack unfocused shit.
― cock chirea, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:04 (thirteen years ago)
Huh, weird. I mean, my favourite is MDK by a long shot, but almost everyone I know likes Udu Wudu the best. Maybe I'm not such a freak, then.
― emil.y, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:15 (thirteen years ago)
Most people seem to think udu is the start of the decline, no?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:19 (thirteen years ago)
that devotion cover is driving me crazy. here's the original.
http://coconutsdisk.com/ekoda/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/10-5-28-5.jpg
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:20 (thirteen years ago)
see also angus maclise for the reflections-in-mylar thing
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:21 (thirteen years ago)
haha check out the magma live album reviewhttp://www.allmusic.com/album/magma-live-mw0000196855
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:21 (thirteen years ago)
I think Attahk is astoundingly great, Udu Wudu, maybe second place, then 1001 Centigrades and the s/t debut are my faves after that. Kohntarkosz is way overrated.
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:23 (thirteen years ago)
Oh, interesting. I'm used to the McLaughlin cover that was posted first from the CD I own. The original looks much better.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 18 March 2013 02:25 (thirteen years ago)
Kohntarkosz was the first I bought because I think I read some book in the '90s that said that was the one to get and it turned me off of magma for a long time. Then eventually I got 1001 and liked it in kind of a lesser soft machine, euro fusion way. but their soul/gospel/disco vibes on udu wudu and attahk are so transcendentally beautiful and brilliant that I can't believe anyone doesn't think those are the pinnacles.
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:26 (thirteen years ago)
I'm not actually sure if that's the original pressing, but it's what the record I have looks like and it's pretty old. I love that weird Douglas 4 logo on there!
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:27 (thirteen years ago)
Throbbing Gristle's First Annual Report was a top-ten pick, and is IMO not only the best TG rec but one of the best psych recs ever made, so:
full album: http://youtu.be/SrjIIkbSruI
Allmusic review:
This legendary recording from Genesis P-Orridge's Throbbing Gristle reached an almost mythical status in the industrial music scene until its belated issue in 2001. So the story goes, the album was recorded in 1975 and was held back by the group, opting to debut with Second Annual Report, the album which established Throbbing Gristle as the primary influence on what would later be termed the industrial music scene in 1977. This seminal recording displays the early abrasive sound of the group from the start with the 18-minute "Very Friendly." This blast of static noise pummels the listener for the best part of 15 minutes, in which Genesis P-Orridge spins a horrifying tale of murder in his deadpan delivery, which is absolutely terrifying. The piece evolves into a tape loop, which Peter Christopherson winds into an incessant mantra for the closing three minutes. It is clear after this brutal introduction that First Annual Report was a milestone in subversive music matched only by Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music, which incidentally came out the same year. However, Throbbing Gristle went even further, not just bombarding the listener with electronic noise but with extreme confrontational texts delivered in the most deranged fashion. While the noise may be a little hard to stomach in parts, in others it reaches sublime hypnotic peaks, and in either case First Annual Report is striking in that it is undeniably the most important advent in the roots of industrial music. With Genesis P-Orridge going on to Psychic TV, Peter Christopherson to Coil, and Chris Carter and Cosey Fanni Tutti as Chris & Cosey, it is a wonder that it took until 2001 before this recording appeared. Practically every act within industrial music and its offshoots -- be it Merzbow, Whitehouse, Ministry, Big Black, or Godflesh -- owes an incredible debt to the groundbreaking music of Throbbing Gristle.
on first listen FAR sounds like the hate apex of negative sunshine, with a sound palatte that ranges from throttled-corpse comforter to buried-in-shit-packed-clown-car, which btw is p. narrow. if you can come around to sound's bleak charms, the rec is relentlessly rhythmic and insistent and on occasion abrasively beautiful (Whorle of Sound), and makes f/ an ace companion to yr psychedelic of choice, though any sort of night driving (or falling down stairs or knitting or w/e creep hobby you pursue) is also favored. you might even be able to make the case that FAR was shelved b/c it was too indebted to psych rock (perhaps a bit like Chrome's '76 Visitation), and hadn't fully evolved into the definitive (though IMO less interesting) industrial of SAR. (btw, contrary to Allmusic the rec appeared in '87 as a p. easy to get bootleg which is when I grabbed it).
― Hellhouse, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:30 (thirteen years ago)
Neu! is warm, no?
― timellison, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:32 (thirteen years ago)
btw, while the track listing on the YouTube vid of Throbbing Gristle's FAR is right, the times are way off.
― Hellhouse, Monday, 18 March 2013 02:57 (thirteen years ago)
I was just looking at some old magma threads and it's blowing my mind that De Futura stands out to people and that they think the rest of Udu Wudu is unfocused. That album is totally solid! De Futura is one of the weirder tracks! idgi
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 04:26 (thirteen years ago)
Glad to see all the love for Roots. Tunes like Get Down and Underground most definitely rock in their own way.
― oldsockstofu (Mr Andy M), Monday, 18 March 2013 07:26 (thirteen years ago)
350. T2 It'll All Work Out In Boomland (711 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #41 for 1970 , #1001 overall http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4HcyjTD_sM/S8XclrfMRnI/AAAAAAAAAKU/Pl7_8JG92iU/s1600/T2+-+Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0iZBTom1nx3pqdYELHAXx4
If you dig: Heavy Prog, Canterbury. ...One of the finest British Progressive Rock albums of the early SEventies, with many comparing it to the works of Caravan and to King Crimson's In The Court of the Crimson King in orientation and musical atmosphere. ..."No More White Horses" starts with a moody riff that transcends and peaks in a simply marvelous composed part. A catchy chorus also benefits this anti-war song, which was written about the Nazi invasion of Poland and contains Wagnerian motifs. Side 2 in its entirety is dedicated to "Morning" -- one long track divided into several parts with different tempos which is further basing the unique sound of T2. This is a story about a 24 hour long LSD trip, filled with improvisations and accurately describes a hallucinatory experience.The record company did its job well, but there was a problem with the distribution so the album didn't reach the eager fans in time and thus ultimately sold meagerly. Due to this blunder, today it is worth around $150. Loved it? Try: Cargo, Clear Blue Sky, Old Man & the Sea. -- R. ChelledMore than just another progressive album with psychedelic tendencies, ...Boomland is a straight-up classic of British rock. Everything about it (except maybe the sleeve) has a presence and mood that is enticing. Great lead vocals by drummer Peter Dunton and amazing lead guitar playing from young never-to-be guitar hero Keith Cross are mixed with heavy and softer passages layered with horns, piano and Mellotron. It's an epic work and absolutely essential listening. -- Lee Dorrian, Classic RockIt?s amazing that a band the caliber of T2 can disappear from public consciousness for so long. They weren?t even a footnote in any rock histories I?ve seen, until Acme and Lion teamed up in 2009 to reissue T2?s brilliant debut. The band held their own on every major stage in England with the likes of King Crimson, Deep Purple and Free, and swanned amongst the gods, such as Hendrix and Lennon. I used to think I?d want to time travel back to London in 1964 when one could still catch bands like the Stones, The Who and The Kinks in small clubs. But despite the commonly held belief that 60s rock culture was in decline in 1970, the truth was that it was exploding with creativity (as evidenced also by the likes of Stray and Lucifer?s Friend. I?d be hard pressed to choose between 1970 and 1979 to witness first-hand my favorites in rock and post-punk. Before lines were drawn between progressive, metal, art rock, glam and punk, bands like T2 encompassed elements of psychedelia, heavy blues and prog, with wonderfully hard rocking results. ?In Circles? sounds like the kind of driving psychedelia with a touch of jazz that Jimi was starting to strive for. Album highlight ?No More White Horses? is the perfect fusion of white-hot guitar leads and beautiful use of horn melodies, nailing a stronger emotional impact that most of their progressive peers. No less impressive is the epic 21:18 ?Morning? that amazingly ends before you?re ready. Chances are T2 will become an all-time favorite of many who hear them, and should be sure to check out Acme/Lion?s reissue of the demos T2 recorded in 1970 for their next album. Unfortunately they broke up before the follow-up could be finished, but it?s well worth hearing. -- Fastnbulbous
The record company did its job well, but there was a problem with the distribution so the album didn't reach the eager fans in time and thus ultimately sold meagerly. Due to this blunder, today it is worth around $150. Loved it? Try: Cargo, Clear Blue Sky, Old Man & the Sea. -- R. Chelled
More than just another progressive album with psychedelic tendencies, ...Boomland is a straight-up classic of British rock. Everything about it (except maybe the sleeve) has a presence and mood that is enticing. Great lead vocals by drummer Peter Dunton and amazing lead guitar playing from young never-to-be guitar hero Keith Cross are mixed with heavy and softer passages layered with horns, piano and Mellotron. It's an epic work and absolutely essential listening. -- Lee Dorrian, Classic Rock
It?s amazing that a band the caliber of T2 can disappear from public consciousness for so long. They weren?t even a footnote in any rock histories I?ve seen, until Acme and Lion teamed up in 2009 to reissue T2?s brilliant debut. The band held their own on every major stage in England with the likes of King Crimson, Deep Purple and Free, and swanned amongst the gods, such as Hendrix and Lennon. I used to think I?d want to time travel back to London in 1964 when one could still catch bands like the Stones, The Who and The Kinks in small clubs. But despite the commonly held belief that 60s rock culture was in decline in 1970, the truth was that it was exploding with creativity (as evidenced also by the likes of Stray and Lucifer?s Friend. I?d be hard pressed to choose between 1970 and 1979 to witness first-hand my favorites in rock and post-punk. Before lines were drawn between progressive, metal, art rock, glam and punk, bands like T2 encompassed elements of psychedelia, heavy blues and prog, with wonderfully hard rocking results. ?In Circles? sounds like the kind of driving psychedelia with a touch of jazz that Jimi was starting to strive for. Album highlight ?No More White Horses? is the perfect fusion of white-hot guitar leads and beautiful use of horn melodies, nailing a stronger emotional impact that most of their progressive peers. No less impressive is the epic 21:18 ?Morning? that amazingly ends before you?re ready. Chances are T2 will become an all-time favorite of many who hear them, and should be sure to check out Acme/Lion?s reissue of the demos T2 recorded in 1970 for their next album. Unfortunately they broke up before the follow-up could be finished, but it?s well worth hearing. -- Fastnbulbous
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 13:30 (thirteen years ago)
I kind of like that cover but maybe it needs something slightly more sinister centre stage than a duck in a fishing hat?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 13:42 (thirteen years ago)
He might have bombs and guns in his boat.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 13:49 (thirteen years ago)
349. NAZZ Nazz (718 Points, 6 Votes)DQ, THIS IS FROM 1968!!!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 13:51 (thirteen years ago)
Ha ha.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 13:52 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah good point, maybe Lee Dorrian could've borrowed the concept for the sleeve of From Enslavement to Obliteration. xxp
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 13:52 (thirteen years ago)
T2 were a nice rediscovery, I don't think I voted for that album in the end but it's good. No more white horses is the standout.
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Monday, 18 March 2013 13:57 (thirteen years ago)
348. HENRI TEXIER Varech (725 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #579 for 1977http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1092/1598/1600/_texier_varech.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/1kHiT4SWmQPTikTvLrPoq2
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:01 (thirteen years ago)
a fine beard
― Neil S, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:02 (thirteen years ago)
stirmonster said its the most rocking cello ever
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:09 (thirteen years ago)
will check then!
― Neil S, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:10 (thirteen years ago)
347. THE DICTATORS Bloodbrothers (731 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #160 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/177/MI0000177775.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6tpBWn2jPpA9eu2WpTgaQb
Because they're nice Jewish boys deep down, and sincere to boot, they offer good-humored satiric putdowns of kinky sex and teenage alienation, encouragement for R. Meltzer, and a patriotic anthem that might be scary if they were capable of sustaining the mood without cracking up. All of which is grounded, unfortunately, not in the great common store of stoopid-rock readymades but in the grade-C Blue Oyster Cult moves that their gradual accumulation of instrumental competence has earned them. B- -- R. ChristgauFalling in with novelist Richard Price, the Dics made some concessions on Bloodbrothersin a last-ditch attempt to turn the band into a commercially viable proposition. Mendoza had already left for greener metal pastures (specifically fame and fortune with Twisted Sister); the five-man lineup sent Shernoff back to bass. Despite the halfhearted attempt to sell out, the band comes across with some great tracks — two stirring love anthems ("Stay With Me" and "Baby Let's Twist"), a tribute to Meltzer ("Borneo Jimmy"), a seamy tale of teenage prostitution ("Minnesota Strip," named for a then-notorious stretch of Manhattan's Eighth Avenue), another Manitoba declaration ("I Stand Tall") and an electric statement of purpose ("Faster and Louder," an expansion on the previous album's "Young, Fast, Scientific"). A blinding cover of the Flamin Groovies' "Slow Death" closes the album, putting a lid on the Dictators studio days and, shortly thereafter, the band as well. -- Trouser Press
Falling in with novelist Richard Price, the Dics made some concessions on Bloodbrothersin a last-ditch attempt to turn the band into a commercially viable proposition. Mendoza had already left for greener metal pastures (specifically fame and fortune with Twisted Sister); the five-man lineup sent Shernoff back to bass. Despite the halfhearted attempt to sell out, the band comes across with some great tracks — two stirring love anthems ("Stay With Me" and "Baby Let's Twist"), a tribute to Meltzer ("Borneo Jimmy"), a seamy tale of teenage prostitution ("Minnesota Strip," named for a then-notorious stretch of Manhattan's Eighth Avenue), another Manitoba declaration ("I Stand Tall") and an electric statement of purpose ("Faster and Louder," an expansion on the previous album's "Young, Fast, Scientific"). A blinding cover of the Flamin Groovies' "Slow Death" closes the album, putting a lid on the Dictators studio days and, shortly thereafter, the band as well. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Cub KodaThis was the Dictators' third album, and their second for Elektra/Asylum. The band was energized after returning from a tour of England and being embraced by the emerging punk rock audience over there. As a result, almost 90 percent of this album was recorded live and, as such, stands as a good example of what the band sounded like on a good night. "Faster & Louder," and the kickoff track, feature an unannounced guest appearance from Bruce Springsteen on backing vocals, while "Baby, Let's Twist" features guitar work far more sophisticated than the title would lead you to believe. The band may have still been trying to cast themselves as the next logical extension of the MC5 and the Stooges, but Andy Shernoff's songwriting (especially on tunes like "No Tomorrow," "Stay With Me," and "Borneo Jimmy") shows infinitely more craft than mere Motor City knockoffs. The playing is self-assured and solid, the production is simple, raw, and direct. In many ways, this is the Dictators' rockingest and most musical album.
This was the Dictators' third album, and their second for Elektra/Asylum. The band was energized after returning from a tour of England and being embraced by the emerging punk rock audience over there. As a result, almost 90 percent of this album was recorded live and, as such, stands as a good example of what the band sounded like on a good night. "Faster & Louder," and the kickoff track, feature an unannounced guest appearance from Bruce Springsteen on backing vocals, while "Baby, Let's Twist" features guitar work far more sophisticated than the title would lead you to believe. The band may have still been trying to cast themselves as the next logical extension of the MC5 and the Stooges, but Andy Shernoff's songwriting (especially on tunes like "No Tomorrow," "Stay With Me," and "Borneo Jimmy") shows infinitely more craft than mere Motor City knockoffs. The playing is self-assured and solid, the production is simple, raw, and direct. In many ways, this is the Dictators' rockingest and most musical album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:10 (thirteen years ago)
Not heard of Henri Texier. Will give it a go.
― emil.y, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:18 (thirteen years ago)
346. RADIO BIRDMAN Radios Appear (732 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #29 for 1977 , #921 overall | Acclaimed: #1424http://www.silverdisc.com/images/64/646315152715.jpg
Like many primal punks in '77 and '78, Radio Birdman was quick to acknowledge and indulge its stylistic ancestry; Radios Appear opens with a rendition of the Stooges' "TV Eye." (Born in Ann Arbor, Michigan, Tek played a crucial role in bringing the radical fruits of the American Midwest to Australia when he emigrated there in the early '70s.) While "Anglo Girl Desire" and the raucous Detroit tribute "Do the Pop" flirt with the punk upsurge occurring half a world away, the lengthy "Man with the Golden Helmet" sounds genuinely like 1970 vintage, finding the conceptual spot where the Doors and the Stooges intersected. "Descent into the Maelstrom" incorporates a bit of surf music, "Love Kills" is distressingly dreamy and "New Race," Birdman's rallying cry (dig those "Yeh-Hup!" chants), closes the album.The Saints opened the world's eyes to Australian punk in late '76, and that group's American label went looking in Sydney and Melbourne to see if there were any more like them back home. Sire wound up issuing an overhauled version of Radios Appear with a totally different cover. The international edition retained some of the original's songs — some intact and some re-recorded — and added a chunk of new material, including the phenomenal "Aloha Steve & Danno" (an unapologetic Hawaii Five-O swipe coupled with a go-nowhere-life-in-front-of-the-TV narrative by Younger), as well as a hot cover of the 13th Floor Elevators' "You're Gonna Miss Me" and "Hit Them Again," a track co-written by Tek and Stooges guitarist Ron Asheton. The revised edition is a bit more aggressive than the original, but retains the same musical sensibilities. -- Trouser PressAnother Aussie classic. Radio Birdman performed their own miniature hijacking of the means of distribution by taking over management of their own pub in Sydney, The Oxford Funhouse, before giving themselves top billing to a selection of likeminded groups. Radio Birdman was formed, perhaps tellingly, by Detroit emigre Deniz Tek and the yank hard-rock connection is made explicit by the fact that Radios Appear is named after a Blue Oyster Cult lyric. More American in feel that the Saints' debut it has a stronger, unabashedly rock 'n' Roll flavour that contrasts with the UK Punks' colder Teutonic racket. -- Woebot
reviewby John DouganStarting off with a rip-snortin' cover of the Stooges' "T.V. Eye," this is primal (and prime) Radio Birdman, with Deniz Tek and Rob Younger firmly ensconced in the eye of this guitar-fueled hurricane. Tek's originals are pretty strong, especially the grimy tale of urban desolation "Murder City Nights" and the noisy freak-out "Descent into the Maelstrom." One of Australia's great rock & roll bands in all of their glory.
Starting off with a rip-snortin' cover of the Stooges' "T.V. Eye," this is primal (and prime) Radio Birdman, with Deniz Tek and Rob Younger firmly ensconced in the eye of this guitar-fueled hurricane. Tek's originals are pretty strong, especially the grimy tale of urban desolation "Murder City Nights" and the noisy freak-out "Descent into the Maelstrom." One of Australia's great rock & roll bands in all of their glory.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:31 (thirteen years ago)
Both those albums got heavy rotation on my Fester's Bucket O' Nasties show.
Lee Dorrian in the quote for T2 is the dude from Cathedral and head of Rise Above records, who wrote a cool feature in last month's Classic Rock called Psych Prog -- http://archive.classicrockmagazine.com/view/november-2009/21/prog-psych
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:44 (thirteen years ago)
and of course he was in Napalm Death
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:46 (thirteen years ago)
345. RICK JAMES Bustin' Out Of L Seven (734 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #601 for 1979http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SJT4N1WmasM/TZ4oEGg-SaI/AAAAAAAABYo/upsI_zKVqLs/s1600/RickJamesBuFR.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0kA5D8FKDHOgkscQbBriP0
reviewby William RuhlmannRick James' second album, Bustin' Out of L Seven, maintained his status among R&B fans, almost topping the LP chart and spawning hits in the title track, "High on Your Love Suite," and "Fool on the Street," though none of them matched the popularity of the debut album's "You and I" or "Mary Jane." James managed an effective amalgam of recent R&B big-band styles, from Sly & the Family Stone to Earth, Wind & Fire and Funkadelic, overlaying the result with his jeeringly rendered sex-and-drugs philosophy. What was missing this time was a real pop crossover -- if Come Get It! had suggested he could have the pop success of Earth, Wind & Fire, Bustin' Out of L Seven threatened that his work would find as restricted an audience as Funkadelic, and without the critical cachet.
Rick James' second album, Bustin' Out of L Seven, maintained his status among R&B fans, almost topping the LP chart and spawning hits in the title track, "High on Your Love Suite," and "Fool on the Street," though none of them matched the popularity of the debut album's "You and I" or "Mary Jane." James managed an effective amalgam of recent R&B big-band styles, from Sly & the Family Stone to Earth, Wind & Fire and Funkadelic, overlaying the result with his jeeringly rendered sex-and-drugs philosophy. What was missing this time was a real pop crossover -- if Come Get It! had suggested he could have the pop success of Earth, Wind & Fire, Bustin' Out of L Seven threatened that his work would find as restricted an audience as Funkadelic, and without the critical cachet.
A really great funk album btw. Recommended.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 14:54 (thirteen years ago)
If you like pfunk then get in there
only a few tracks available on spotify unfortunately
― Mordy, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:00 (thirteen years ago)
344. FLAMIN' GROOVIES Teenage Head (741 Points, 5 Votes)RYM: #103 for 1971 , #2623 overall | Acclaimed: #886http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/713/MI0001713681.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Surprisingly bluesy, with a good Robert Johnson cover, a great John Lee Hooker rip, and lots of slide guitar. Plus the title track, an inspired articulation/sendup of "California born and bred" youth rebellion. But "High Flyin Baby," "Evil Hearted Ada," and "Whiskey Woman" fall into the blues-rock trap--not surprising at all. B -- R. ChristgauI've been betting on the Flamin' Groovies a long time. When they used to come on stage at Golden Gate Park love-ins and all the psychedummies held their noses, I would move up close to watch, knowing this group had something going for them beneath all that ineptitude. I was one of the few who bought their first wretched record (Sneakers, an EP on the Snazz label). And as their albums came out I bought them all, disappointing as they were.But finally I've been rewarded with the great album I always knew the Flamin' Groovies had in them...The album opens forcefully with "High Flyin' Baby," a well-built song laced with strong slide guitar and vocal choruses. Roy's weakness as a lead singer is noticeable, but doesn't affect the song's impact. "City Lights" is a slow-rolling, reflective sort of song, based remotely on "No Expectations." Their performance of "Have You Seen My Baby" is truly superb; it just rocks along in a joyful way, dtermined to get you off your ass and into a dancing mood. Side two comes on hard and raunchy, Tim Lynch grunting out the menacing lyrics of "Teenage Head": "I'm a monster; got a revved up teenage head." Great stuff. Adn even the Charlatans live on in this record, as we move into MIke Wilhelm's arrangement of "32-20." My favorite song on this side, though, is "Evil Hearted Ada," where the echo is turned all the way up and Roy does his best Elvis imitation as the rest of the band copies the sparse guitar and string bass sound of early Sun. There's nothing at all serious about it, so it succeeds completely...I tell ya, fun's a-poppin' all over this album. It has the power to pull you into the never-ending party that follows the Flamin' Groovies around. It's good-time music for sure, and good rock & roll besides, full of the kind of songs you find yourself trucking to as you walk down the street. Teenage Head is bound to sell at least 50 copies: that's how many musicians and rock critics are mentoined on the bak for having been at the party. If you missed it, don't despair, it's as near as your favorite record store. -- Greg Shaw, RS
I've been betting on the Flamin' Groovies a long time. When they used to come on stage at Golden Gate Park love-ins and all the psychedummies held their noses, I would move up close to watch, knowing this group had something going for them beneath all that ineptitude. I was one of the few who bought their first wretched record (Sneakers, an EP on the Snazz label). And as their albums came out I bought them all, disappointing as they were.
But finally I've been rewarded with the great album I always knew the Flamin' Groovies had in them...The album opens forcefully with "High Flyin' Baby," a well-built song laced with strong slide guitar and vocal choruses. Roy's weakness as a lead singer is noticeable, but doesn't affect the song's impact. "City Lights" is a slow-rolling, reflective sort of song, based remotely on "No Expectations." Their performance of "Have You Seen My Baby" is truly superb; it just rocks along in a joyful way, dtermined to get you off your ass and into a dancing mood. Side two comes on hard and raunchy, Tim Lynch grunting out the menacing lyrics of "Teenage Head": "I'm a monster; got a revved up teenage head." Great stuff. Adn even the Charlatans live on in this record, as we move into MIke Wilhelm's arrangement of "32-20." My favorite song on this side, though, is "Evil Hearted Ada," where the echo is turned all the way up and Roy does his best Elvis imitation as the rest of the band copies the sparse guitar and string bass sound of early Sun. There's nothing at all serious about it, so it succeeds completely...
I tell ya, fun's a-poppin' all over this album. It has the power to pull you into the never-ending party that follows the Flamin' Groovies around. It's good-time music for sure, and good rock & roll besides, full of the kind of songs you find yourself trucking to as you walk down the street. Teenage Head is bound to sell at least 50 copies: that's how many musicians and rock critics are mentoined on the bak for having been at the party. If you missed it, don't despair, it's as near as your favorite record store. -- Greg Shaw, RS
review[-] by Mark DemingMiriam Linna once opined that the Roy Loney-era lineup of the Flamin' Groovies suggested what the Rolling Stones would have sounded like if they'd sworn their allegiance to the sound and style of Sun Records instead of Chess Records. If one wants to buy this theory (and it sounds reasonable to me), then Teenage Head was the Groovies' alternate-universe version of Sticky Fingers, an album that delivered their toughest rock & roll beside their most introspective blues workouts. (In his liner notes to Buddha's 1999 CD reissue of Teenage Head, Andy Kotowicz writes that Mick Jagger noticed the similarities between the two albums and thought the Groovies did the better job.) While the Flamin' Groovies didn't dip into the blues often, they always did right by 'em, and "City Lights" and "Yesterday's Numbers" find them embracing the mournful soul of the blues to superb effect, while their covers of "Doctor Boogie" and "32-20" honor the originals while adding a energy and attitude that was all their own. And the rockers are among the best stuff this band ever put to tape, especially "High Flying Baby," "Have You Seen My Baby?," and the brilliant title track. And unlike Flamingo, Teenage Head sounds just as good as it deserves to; Richard Robinson's production is clean, sharp, and gets the details onto tape with a clarity that never gets in the way of the band's sweaty raunch. While Flamingo rocks a bit harder, Teenage Head is ultimately the best album the Flamin' Groovies would ever make, and after Roy Loney left the band within a few months of its release, they'd never sound like this again. [Big Beat reissued the album in the United Kingdom in 1991, adding a couple bonus tracks in the process.]
Miriam Linna once opined that the Roy Loney-era lineup of the Flamin' Groovies suggested what the Rolling Stones would have sounded like if they'd sworn their allegiance to the sound and style of Sun Records instead of Chess Records. If one wants to buy this theory (and it sounds reasonable to me), then Teenage Head was the Groovies' alternate-universe version of Sticky Fingers, an album that delivered their toughest rock & roll beside their most introspective blues workouts. (In his liner notes to Buddha's 1999 CD reissue of Teenage Head, Andy Kotowicz writes that Mick Jagger noticed the similarities between the two albums and thought the Groovies did the better job.) While the Flamin' Groovies didn't dip into the blues often, they always did right by 'em, and "City Lights" and "Yesterday's Numbers" find them embracing the mournful soul of the blues to superb effect, while their covers of "Doctor Boogie" and "32-20" honor the originals while adding a energy and attitude that was all their own. And the rockers are among the best stuff this band ever put to tape, especially "High Flying Baby," "Have You Seen My Baby?," and the brilliant title track. And unlike Flamingo, Teenage Head sounds just as good as it deserves to; Richard Robinson's production is clean, sharp, and gets the details onto tape with a clarity that never gets in the way of the band's sweaty raunch. While Flamingo rocks a bit harder, Teenage Head is ultimately the best album the Flamin' Groovies would ever make, and after Roy Loney left the band within a few months of its release, they'd never sound like this again. [Big Beat reissued the album in the United Kingdom in 1991, adding a couple bonus tracks in the process.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:02 (thirteen years ago)
I had kinda hoped 'Teenage Head' would place higher. Great album, out Stones the Stones at points.
― Internet Alan, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:07 (thirteen years ago)
Top 100 Countdown? Aren't we jumping the gun a bit?
― Moodles, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:13 (thirteen years ago)
Wait is there a connection between the Dictators album and the Richard Price novel Bloodbrothers? That is a great novel and one of La Lechera's favorites.
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Monday, 18 March 2013 15:16 (thirteen years ago)
343. ASH RA TEMPEL Join Inn (741 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #212 for 1973http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/807/MI0001807081.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
After a couple of aborted demo's Ash Ra Tempel decided to go to Hamburg and record an album proper, with the aid of Conny Plank. This resulted in their debut, which was housed in a mystical elaborate centre-opening gatefold cover. As with their live jams, Ash Ra Tempel on record was a unique twist on the space-rock music as pioneered by Pink Floyd and Hawkwind, with elements of both yet devoid of songs, free-rock in the truest sense. Just one track per side: firstly with the power-drive storming "Amboss" (close to Klaus' work in Tangerine Dream) and in contrast, the shimmering timeless "Traummaschine". A yin-and-yang type concept that made for an extraordinary album. But, not too long after this, with a yearning for greater things in life than just playing drums, Klaus Schulze left Ash Ra Tempel, saying to Manuel "You keep the name, I'm going to do other things" and went on to pursue a most fruitful solo career as one of the pioneers of synth music. -- Cosmic EggAsh Ra Tempel’s first two LPs had taken the metal of Detroit to heights not even considered by the MC5 or the Stooges or even Funkadelic. Sure those groups had got close on stage. But Ash Ra Tempel got it on record. While the collective Detroit obsession with the Outer-spacings of Sun Ra and the free-jazz innervisions of John Coltrane had been tamed beyond recognition by the American record industry, Ash Ra Tempel suffered no such disappointment. And those searching for the fulfilment of the Detroit promise need have looked no further than Ash Ra Tempel in 1971. There's a part of Iggy Pop’s autobiographicalI Need More in which he writes (p.17) about the early Stooges sound thus:“...I’d play this sort of wild Hawaiian guitar with a pick-up that I invented, which meant that I made two sounds at one time, like an airplane…using 55-gallon oil cans which I got from a junkyard and rigged up as bass drums, I home-made a drumset. For drumsticks I designed these semi-plastic moulded hammers. Scotty beat the shit out of these cans; it sounded like an earthquake – thunderous… It was entirely instrumental at this time, like jazz gone wild. It was very North African, a very tribal sound: very electronic. We would play like that for about 10 minutes. Then everybody would have to get really stoned again…But what we had put into 10 minutes was so total and so very savage – the earth shook, then cracked, and SWALLOWED ALL MISERY WHOLE.” (my capitals)Music that Swallowed All Misery Whole…In the first two Ash Ra Tempel LPs, Ash Ra Tempel and Schwingungen, they had captured on record All that Iggy Pop had promised Could Be but, because of Record Industry Hang-ups, had been unable to deliver. And this music which could Swallow All Misery Whole reached into the core of each musician who played in Ash Ra Tempel and pulled out, still wriggling, the cosmic conger eel of white light which so few artists ever capture in the Moment of Recording. For years, I had drooled over that description in I Need More. I'd shown many friends that passage – I had bored them with it. And all the time Ash Ra Tempel had already done it in 1971… But it was not without a price. The first LP was by a Kosmische power-rock trio of gargantuan size. The 20-minute opening track “Amboss (Anvil)” was all of Iggy Pop’s above description and more. Sure it was a fucking cosmic freakout. But it was played by Renaissance Man and Cosmic Man at the same time.Fuck Jim Morrison’s ridiculous “Renaissance Man of the Mind” description.That was just an excuse to be a fat slob.That was just an existentialist knee-jerk.No. No. No.These freaks were fit. Superhuman. Superman.They were here to go. But all in good time. And they had staying power over 20-minute tracks. On “Amboss”, Klaus Schultze plays drums like a hundred drummers. He’s not twice as powerful, he’s a hundred times as powerful. Hartmut Enke, the spiritual leader of the band, hits his Gibson bass the way only a giant could: the huge extra-longnecked she-bass was courted, cajoled and ultimately goosed into action by this huge handsome freak they all called The Hawk. And Manuel Gottsching plays blues like Clapton, but right alongside pre-emptive Keith Levene white noise and egoless as Lou Reed’s Live 1969 rhythm guitar freakouts. The interplay is so intuitive that frequently it’s impossible to hear the instruments — you just hear the Music. And the LP was housed in yet another of Ohr Records’ extravagant packages — a centrally opening gatefold with an Ancient Egyptian exterior, a freaky occult gematriac interior, and a tragically beautiful Head poem that began: “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness staring hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the Negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix.” -- J. Cope
Ash Ra Tempel’s first two LPs had taken the metal of Detroit to heights not even considered by the MC5 or the Stooges or even Funkadelic. Sure those groups had got close on stage. But Ash Ra Tempel got it on record. While the collective Detroit obsession with the Outer-spacings of Sun Ra and the free-jazz innervisions of John Coltrane had been tamed beyond recognition by the American record industry, Ash Ra Tempel suffered no such disappointment. And those searching for the fulfilment of the Detroit promise need have looked no further than Ash Ra Tempel in 1971. There's a part of Iggy Pop’s autobiographicalI Need More in which he writes (p.17) about the early Stooges sound thus:
“...I’d play this sort of wild Hawaiian guitar with a pick-up that I invented, which meant that I made two sounds at one time, like an airplane…using 55-gallon oil cans which I got from a junkyard and rigged up as bass drums, I home-made a drumset. For drumsticks I designed these semi-plastic moulded hammers. Scotty beat the shit out of these cans; it sounded like an earthquake – thunderous… It was entirely instrumental at this time, like jazz gone wild. It was very North African, a very tribal sound: very electronic. We would play like that for about 10 minutes. Then everybody would have to get really stoned again…But what we had put into 10 minutes was so total and so very savage – the earth shook, then cracked, and SWALLOWED ALL MISERY WHOLE.” (my capitals)
Music that Swallowed All Misery Whole…
In the first two Ash Ra Tempel LPs, Ash Ra Tempel and Schwingungen, they had captured on record All that Iggy Pop had promised Could Be but, because of Record Industry Hang-ups, had been unable to deliver. And this music which could Swallow All Misery Whole reached into the core of each musician who played in Ash Ra Tempel and pulled out, still wriggling, the cosmic conger eel of white light which so few artists ever capture in the Moment of Recording.
For years, I had drooled over that description in I Need More. I'd shown many friends that passage – I had bored them with it. And all the time Ash Ra Tempel had already done it in 1971… But it was not without a price. The first LP was by a Kosmische power-rock trio of gargantuan size. The 20-minute opening track “Amboss (Anvil)” was all of Iggy Pop’s above description and more. Sure it was a fucking cosmic freakout. But it was played by Renaissance Man and Cosmic Man at the same time.
Fuck Jim Morrison’s ridiculous “Renaissance Man of the Mind” description.That was just an excuse to be a fat slob.That was just an existentialist knee-jerk.No. No. No.These freaks were fit. Superhuman. Superman.
They were here to go. But all in good time. And they had staying power over 20-minute tracks. On “Amboss”, Klaus Schultze plays drums like a hundred drummers. He’s not twice as powerful, he’s a hundred times as powerful. Hartmut Enke, the spiritual leader of the band, hits his Gibson bass the way only a giant could: the huge extra-longnecked she-bass was courted, cajoled and ultimately goosed into action by this huge handsome freak they all called The Hawk. And Manuel Gottsching plays blues like Clapton, but right alongside pre-emptive Keith Levene white noise and egoless as Lou Reed’s Live 1969 rhythm guitar freakouts. The interplay is so intuitive that frequently it’s impossible to hear the instruments — you just hear the Music. And the LP was housed in yet another of Ohr Records’ extravagant packages — a centrally opening gatefold with an Ancient Egyptian exterior, a freaky occult gematriac interior, and a tragically beautiful Head poem that began: “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness staring hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the Negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix.” -- J. Cope
review[-] by François CoutureAsh Ra Tempel's fourth LP marked something of a pause, a recap, especially after the surprising Seven Up (which featured Timothy Leary as a guest). The temporary return of Klaus Schulze also greatly contributes to this feeling of summation. The album features two side-long pieces that represent literally two sides of the band, the Krautrock and space music incarnations. "Freak 'n' Roll" is a 19-minute hard-hitting jam, with Schulze bashing away behind the drums and Manuel Göttsching churning some mean guitar riffs while Harmut Enke ploughs heavy basslines. The track is actually an excerpt from a longer improvisation and begins with a fade in that throws the listener in the middle of an already heated session. Long but hardly long-winded, this track deserves a place alongside Can's "You Do Right" and Faust's "Krautrock": it has the drive, the psychedelic appeal, and the creativity of what epitomized the Krautrock style in the minds of young Englishmen and Americans for a while. The 24-minute "Jenseits" sees Schulze at the Synthi A and the organ, weaving dreamy drones and uplifting chords for Göttsching to doodle over. Enke's lines are not always as relevant as one would wish, and Rosi Mueller's soft-spoken narration seems to get in the way during the first few minutes -- in short, this is not Ash Ra Tempel at their ethereal best, but it's still a fine exercise in late-night musical dreaming that will appeal to fans of Phaedra-era Tangerine Dream while not misrepresenting that aspect of the group's work. And put together, those two pieces make a very fine introduction to the first few years of Ash Ra Tempel.
Ash Ra Tempel's fourth LP marked something of a pause, a recap, especially after the surprising Seven Up (which featured Timothy Leary as a guest). The temporary return of Klaus Schulze also greatly contributes to this feeling of summation. The album features two side-long pieces that represent literally two sides of the band, the Krautrock and space music incarnations. "Freak 'n' Roll" is a 19-minute hard-hitting jam, with Schulze bashing away behind the drums and Manuel Göttsching churning some mean guitar riffs while Harmut Enke ploughs heavy basslines. The track is actually an excerpt from a longer improvisation and begins with a fade in that throws the listener in the middle of an already heated session. Long but hardly long-winded, this track deserves a place alongside Can's "You Do Right" and Faust's "Krautrock": it has the drive, the psychedelic appeal, and the creativity of what epitomized the Krautrock style in the minds of young Englishmen and Americans for a while. The 24-minute "Jenseits" sees Schulze at the Synthi A and the organ, weaving dreamy drones and uplifting chords for Göttsching to doodle over. Enke's lines are not always as relevant as one would wish, and Rosi Mueller's soft-spoken narration seems to get in the way during the first few minutes -- in short, this is not Ash Ra Tempel at their ethereal best, but it's still a fine exercise in late-night musical dreaming that will appeal to fans of Phaedra-era Tangerine Dream while not misrepresenting that aspect of the group's work. And put together, those two pieces make a very fine introduction to the first few years of Ash Ra Tempel.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:17 (thirteen years ago)
It was depressing when I found I didn't have time to listen to Ash Ra Tempel before voting closed
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Monday, 18 March 2013 15:23 (thirteen years ago)
I'm just amazed you never heard them years ago. They belong in a top 100 not 400!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:27 (thirteen years ago)
woohoo Ash Ra Tempel! Agree with AG!
xp Ha! That is a top notch book, but I don't know anything about the album. Doesn't sound like my thing, but it does sound like something the main character might like ?! Seems v late adolescent male?
I just came here to post that I hope I am one of more than a handful of people to vote for Akron's Bizarros.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 18 March 2013 15:28 (thirteen years ago)
342. SCREAMERS In A Better World (745 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #340 for 2001http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/160/MI0002160782.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
review[-] by Mark DemingWhile part of the Big Idea behind punk rock was to rewrite the rules of what a rock band could do, surprisingly few groups bothered to challenge the basic framework of the traditional rock band -- most punk bands consisted of two guitars, bass, and drums, just like the majority of the acts they were supposed to render obsolete. One of the rare exceptions to this was the Screamers, who were among the most radical (and, surprisingly, also among the most popular) of the first wave of L.A. punk outfits. Refusing to bow to the hegemony of the guitar, the Screamers' lineup consisted of two heavily distorted electronic keyboards (Tommy Gear on ARP synthesizer, and usually Paul Roessler on Fender Rhodes electric piano), a violently metronomic drummer (K.K. Barrett), and a howling maniac on lead vocals (Tomata du Plenty). While the absence of guitars certainly gave the band a sound all its own, even the most cursory listen to the music makes it clear this wasn't synth pop or experimental art music -- this was punk rock in all its ranting glory. By all accounts, the Screamers were one of the most popular bands on the Los Angeles scene between 1977 and 1980, where they could sell out most clubs for two- or three-night stands, and nearly every account of the early California punk movement testifies to their influence and importance. However, beyond a handful of gigs in New York, they never played outside the West Coast and, for a variety of reasons, the band never put out a record. In a Better World is a gray-market collection (reportedly created with the participation of two former members of the band) that compiles a number of live performances and rare studio demos from the Screamers. If the fidelity isn't terribly consistent, it's at least adequate and sometimes quite good and, between the band's wild, blaring sound, du Plenty's remarkable stage banter, and the passionate energy of the songs -- sometimes comical ("Magazine Love," "I'll Go Steady With Twiggy") and sometimes sinister ("122 Hours of Fear," "I Wanna Hurt") -- this set finally offers hard evidence that the band's legend had a very real basis in fact. Just as California punk was generally faster, wilder, and less arty than its New York counterpart, the Screamers were the L.A. scene's relative corollary to Suicide, and In a Better World makes clear they were just as smart, just as innovative, and just as gifted as that fine band. Until the day that a fully authorized Screamers anthology comes along, this set will fill the void quite nicely.
While part of the Big Idea behind punk rock was to rewrite the rules of what a rock band could do, surprisingly few groups bothered to challenge the basic framework of the traditional rock band -- most punk bands consisted of two guitars, bass, and drums, just like the majority of the acts they were supposed to render obsolete. One of the rare exceptions to this was the Screamers, who were among the most radical (and, surprisingly, also among the most popular) of the first wave of L.A. punk outfits. Refusing to bow to the hegemony of the guitar, the Screamers' lineup consisted of two heavily distorted electronic keyboards (Tommy Gear on ARP synthesizer, and usually Paul Roessler on Fender Rhodes electric piano), a violently metronomic drummer (K.K. Barrett), and a howling maniac on lead vocals (Tomata du Plenty). While the absence of guitars certainly gave the band a sound all its own, even the most cursory listen to the music makes it clear this wasn't synth pop or experimental art music -- this was punk rock in all its ranting glory. By all accounts, the Screamers were one of the most popular bands on the Los Angeles scene between 1977 and 1980, where they could sell out most clubs for two- or three-night stands, and nearly every account of the early California punk movement testifies to their influence and importance. However, beyond a handful of gigs in New York, they never played outside the West Coast and, for a variety of reasons, the band never put out a record. In a Better World is a gray-market collection (reportedly created with the participation of two former members of the band) that compiles a number of live performances and rare studio demos from the Screamers. If the fidelity isn't terribly consistent, it's at least adequate and sometimes quite good and, between the band's wild, blaring sound, du Plenty's remarkable stage banter, and the passionate energy of the songs -- sometimes comical ("Magazine Love," "I'll Go Steady With Twiggy") and sometimes sinister ("122 Hours of Fear," "I Wanna Hurt") -- this set finally offers hard evidence that the band's legend had a very real basis in fact. Just as California punk was generally faster, wilder, and less arty than its New York counterpart, the Screamers were the L.A. scene's relative corollary to Suicide, and In a Better World makes clear they were just as smart, just as innovative, and just as gifted as that fine band. Until the day that a fully authorized Screamers anthology comes along, this set will fill the void quite nicely.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:31 (thirteen years ago)
Still don't think I've ever heard the Screamers, think I need to fix that.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 15:40 (thirteen years ago)
341. WARHORSE Warhorse (747 Points, 4 Votes)RYM: #257 for 1970http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/784/MI0001784691.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2HdH4vnQMRqKpkfZ80vgBy
Warhorse briefly sparked in teh early '70s due to the presence of ex-Deep Pruple bassist Nick Simper and the band's two classy albums, records which bridged the gap between Deep Purple's foppish years and that band's In Rock, as well as between In Rock, Uriah HEep's debut, Atomic Rooster's Death Walks Behind You and the dark prog of say King Crimson, Tull or stormy Yes. But to simplify, think of this as complicated, slightly psych-y early Heep, Ashley Holt sounding like Byron and/or Hensley, Ged Peck sounding like Mick Box sounding like Blackmore. Comparisons were made to Sabbath at the time, because there are certain sinister chord progressions (see "Ritual," "Woman OF The Devil" or "Vulture Blood"), but this band was too sophisticated, jazzy, Hammond-heavy and senuously subtle to warrant such comparatives. In fact, every track on here is loaded with fine performances, guitar licks and myriad keyboard tones flying every which way... An unqualified classic. 7/9 -- M. Popoff
reviewby Richie UnterbergerWarhorse's self-titled debut was a progressive rock-heavy rock meld that was even less humorless than that of Deep Purple, let alone Black Sabbath, the band that they got compared to most frequently. There's a bit of art rock in the Hammond organ, and an operatic earnestness to Ashley Holt's lead vocals. Titles like "Vulture Blood," "Burning," "Ritual," "Solitude," and "Woman of the Devil" are indicative of the group's desire to set a menacing mood, although the songs don't really forcefully hit the mark for which they were probably targeted. A cover of an Easybeats song ("St. Louis"), of all things, is the only non-original. Angel Air's CD reissue adds bonus live versions of four of the album's songs, as well as a demo, "Miss Jane," of a tune that didn't appear on the original LP.
Warhorse's self-titled debut was a progressive rock-heavy rock meld that was even less humorless than that of Deep Purple, let alone Black Sabbath, the band that they got compared to most frequently. There's a bit of art rock in the Hammond organ, and an operatic earnestness to Ashley Holt's lead vocals. Titles like "Vulture Blood," "Burning," "Ritual," "Solitude," and "Woman of the Devil" are indicative of the group's desire to set a menacing mood, although the songs don't really forcefully hit the mark for which they were probably targeted. A cover of an Easybeats song ("St. Louis"), of all things, is the only non-original. Angel Air's CD reissue adds bonus live versions of four of the album's songs, as well as a demo, "Miss Jane," of a tune that didn't appear on the original LP.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:45 (thirteen years ago)
Radio Birdman! YAY
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
This book covers the Screamers story:
http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1320452826l/89326.jpg
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
sorry, late to the party again
Warhorse's self-titled debut was a progressive rock-heavy rock meld that was even less humorless than that of Deep Purple, let alone Black Sabbath,
Hmm, so that would make it more humourous than DP, Sabs, right? Just, the rest of the revirw suggests not.
― Mark G, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:50 (thirteen years ago)
Ha, some of the shit Popoff writes cannot be logically explained!
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 15:57 (thirteen years ago)
340. FRANK ZAPPA Overnite Sensation (755 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #29 for 1973 , #812 overall | Acclaimed: #1689http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/676/MI0001676816.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1jndddD7rEzcShjNkETD11
Oh, I get it--the soft-core porn is there to contextualize the serious stuff. Oh, I get it--the automatic solos are there to undercut the serious stuff. Oh, I get it--the marimbas are there to mock-trivialize the serious stuff. But where's the serious stuff? C -- R. ChristgauPoor old Frank. It seemed as much as he strived for the artistic high ground the more critics made a point of preferring Captain Beefheart. Anyone my age in the UK grew up with a rock press that dictated Beefheart good, Zappa bad. The comparison between Zappa and Beefheart is unfair, they’re radically different creatures, but Frank is cool too. Beyond his Mothers of Inventions “classics” (Uncle Meat (1969) being perhaps Prog’s original stone tablet) some of his seventies discs are excellent. Both One Size Fits All (1975) and particularly Overnite Sensation are by turns hilarious, wildly intelligent, almost excessively well played, and of course finger-snappingly fusion-tastic. More than any other Rock giant of the seventies Zappa had an awareness of the full spectrum of music. He ropes in George Duke and Jean Luc Ponty on Over-nite Sensation and damn near outplays ‘em both. Sick. --- WoebotFrank Zappa is revered in curiously paradoxical terms, as an iconoclastic icon. With his devilish beard, quick wit and quicker fingers, he’s the patron saint of all those who believe that pop and rock are risibly inferior musical forms, practised by earnestly deluded simpletons, consumed by gullible, dead-eyed suburbanite kids. On his most acclaimed albums, We’re Only In It For The Money and Absolutely Free, he swooped to conquer pop like some musical ubermensch first to parody pop styles (doo-wop, The Beatles, preppy Sixties garage music) showing with what effortless simplicity their inherent banality could be exposed, before ascending into furiously virtuoso avant-jazz and classical excursions, as if to demonstrate to pop bods the humiliating impoverishment of their cheesy culture compared with the ‘Proper’ music of the 20th century.Yet, despite of his prodigious and eclectic output, despite his undoubted technical abilities, there’s ultimately a sense about Zappa that he actually had nothing to offer. he assembles formidable mosaics of existing genres on albums like Uncle Meat, yet he himself did not conceive any new musical style. He had no “voice” – he couldn’t sing, though we always hear a lot of him on his albums, those amusical, superciliously acerbic tones of his. In the great scheme of things, he was closer in spirit to a heckler than a performer.His reputation is founded on his earliest albums, with their broadsides against consumerist America and pooping deflation of the aspirations of hippiedom. 30 years on, however, his assaults on “plastic people” sound dated, self-satisfied and the most trite manifestation of the sort of elitist artist’s basic contempt for humankind exposed in John Carey’s The Intellectuals And The Masses. Furthermore, if Zappa found the pop and rock scene of 1967 wanting – arguably its highest watermark – then you wonder if the man was capable of experiencing joy. His inability to experience pop music (even doo-wop, which he actually doted on) without breaking into a sneer is a congenital failing on his part, not on pop’s.By 1969, the strain of years of iconoclasm, belching into the mic, tiresome parodies and running jokes about Suzy Creamcheese must have told even on him. From thereon, his albums increasingly became showcases for the musical virtuosos he assembled around him – the likes of George Duke and electric violinist Jean-Luc Ponty, whose endless soloing on Hot Rats and Burnt Weeny Sandwich offered a nightmarish vision of what music would be like in Zappatopia.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg3e312SvcwAs a bandleader, Zappa was autocratic and a stickler for tightness, and that’s reflected in his albums – technically formidable yet ultimately pointless, inexpressive jazz-rock, which transmits no other message to the listener than “we can play this, you can’t”. Zappa’s own guitar solos particularly are fast, twaddly, Flight-Of-The-Bumble-Bee affairs high on skill, low on artistic impression or even invention – sound and fury signifying nothing.Even many Zappa fans would concede that in his last 25 years he produced nothing but rubbish. When he attempted in the Seventies to revert to the lampoonery of the earliest years, the results were punitively unlistenable. Check “Billy The Mountain”, the comic odyssey on Just Another Band From LA, or the geriatric satire of “Disco Boy” on Zoot Allures. Zappa tried earnestly to establish a legacy as a figure worthy of consideration in the classical canon, encouraged by the likes of Pierre Boulez. But as his turgid orchestral pieces attest, Zappa was to classical music what Prince Charles is to impressionist painting. Indeed, he only tickled the palate of “serious” music buffs who imagined that pieces like “Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?” ranked him as a debunker of stuffy classical mores.Therein lay Zappa’s problem – too highbrow to be a lowbrow, too lowbrow to be a highbrow. It’s only the rocktastically onomatopoeic nature of Zappa’s surname that ensures he is remembered (had he been called Frank Capper, we’d hear even less of him). Who among today’s musical generation actually listens to albums like Grand Wazoo or Weasels Ripped My Flesh for inspiration? Towards the end of his life, Zappa may have become aware of the absence within himself. It’s said he spent his last days listening over and over to the doo-wop records of his youth, sobbing uncontrollably – lamenting, perhaps, the soul he never had. -- The Reaper
Poor old Frank. It seemed as much as he strived for the artistic high ground the more critics made a point of preferring Captain Beefheart. Anyone my age in the UK grew up with a rock press that dictated Beefheart good, Zappa bad. The comparison between Zappa and Beefheart is unfair, they’re radically different creatures, but Frank is cool too. Beyond his Mothers of Inventions “classics” (Uncle Meat (1969) being perhaps Prog’s original stone tablet) some of his seventies discs are excellent. Both One Size Fits All (1975) and particularly Overnite Sensation are by turns hilarious, wildly intelligent, almost excessively well played, and of course finger-snappingly fusion-tastic. More than any other Rock giant of the seventies Zappa had an awareness of the full spectrum of music. He ropes in George Duke and Jean Luc Ponty on Over-nite Sensation and damn near outplays ‘em both. Sick. --- Woebot
Frank Zappa is revered in curiously paradoxical terms, as an iconoclastic icon. With his devilish beard, quick wit and quicker fingers, he’s the patron saint of all those who believe that pop and rock are risibly inferior musical forms, practised by earnestly deluded simpletons, consumed by gullible, dead-eyed suburbanite kids. On his most acclaimed albums, We’re Only In It For The Money and Absolutely Free, he swooped to conquer pop like some musical ubermensch first to parody pop styles (doo-wop, The Beatles, preppy Sixties garage music) showing with what effortless simplicity their inherent banality could be exposed, before ascending into furiously virtuoso avant-jazz and classical excursions, as if to demonstrate to pop bods the humiliating impoverishment of their cheesy culture compared with the ‘Proper’ music of the 20th century.Yet, despite of his prodigious and eclectic output, despite his undoubted technical abilities, there’s ultimately a sense about Zappa that he actually had nothing to offer. he assembles formidable mosaics of existing genres on albums like Uncle Meat, yet he himself did not conceive any new musical style. He had no “voice” – he couldn’t sing, though we always hear a lot of him on his albums, those amusical, superciliously acerbic tones of his. In the great scheme of things, he was closer in spirit to a heckler than a performer.His reputation is founded on his earliest albums, with their broadsides against consumerist America and pooping deflation of the aspirations of hippiedom. 30 years on, however, his assaults on “plastic people” sound dated, self-satisfied and the most trite manifestation of the sort of elitist artist’s basic contempt for humankind exposed in John Carey’s The Intellectuals And The Masses. Furthermore, if Zappa found the pop and rock scene of 1967 wanting – arguably its highest watermark – then you wonder if the man was capable of experiencing joy. His inability to experience pop music (even doo-wop, which he actually doted on) without breaking into a sneer is a congenital failing on his part, not on pop’s.By 1969, the strain of years of iconoclasm, belching into the mic, tiresome parodies and running jokes about Suzy Creamcheese must have told even on him. From thereon, his albums increasingly became showcases for the musical virtuosos he assembled around him – the likes of George Duke and electric violinist Jean-Luc Ponty, whose endless soloing on Hot Rats and Burnt Weeny Sandwich offered a nightmarish vision of what music would be like in Zappatopia.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg3e312SvcwAs a bandleader, Zappa was autocratic and a stickler for tightness, and that’s reflected in his albums – technically formidable yet ultimately pointless, inexpressive jazz-rock, which transmits no other message to the listener than “we can play this, you can’t”. Zappa’s own guitar solos particularly are fast, twaddly, Flight-Of-The-Bumble-Bee affairs high on skill, low on artistic impression or even invention – sound and fury signifying nothing.Even many Zappa fans would concede that in his last 25 years he produced nothing but rubbish. When he attempted in the Seventies to revert to the lampoonery of the earliest years, the results were punitively unlistenable. Check “Billy The Mountain”, the comic odyssey on Just Another Band From LA, or the geriatric satire of “Disco Boy” on Zoot Allures. Zappa tried earnestly to establish a legacy as a figure worthy of consideration in the classical canon, encouraged by the likes of Pierre Boulez. But as his turgid orchestral pieces attest, Zappa was to classical music what Prince Charles is to impressionist painting. Indeed, he only tickled the palate of “serious” music buffs who imagined that pieces like “Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?” ranked him as a debunker of stuffy classical mores.Therein lay Zappa’s problem – too highbrow to be a lowbrow, too lowbrow to be a highbrow. It’s only the rocktastically onomatopoeic nature of Zappa’s surname that ensures he is remembered (had he been called Frank Capper, we’d hear even less of him). Who among today’s musical generation actually listens to albums like Grand Wazoo or Weasels Ripped My Flesh for inspiration? Towards the end of his life, Zappa may have become aware of the absence within himself. It’s said he spent his last days listening over and over to the doo-wop records of his youth, sobbing uncontrollably – lamenting, perhaps, the soul he never had. -- The Reaper
review[-] by Steve HueyLove it or hate it, Over-Nite Sensation was a watershed album for Frank Zappa, the point where his post-'60s aesthetic was truly established; it became his second gold album, and most of these songs became staples of his live shows for years to come. Whereas the Flo and Eddie years were dominated by rambling, off-color comedy routines, Over-Nite Sensation tightened up the song structures and tucked sexual and social humor into melodic, technically accomplished heavy guitar rock with jazzy chord changes and funky rhythms; meanwhile, Zappa's growling new post-accident voice takes over the storytelling. While the music is some of Zappa's most accessible, the apparent callousness and/or stunning sexual explicitness of "Camarillo Brillo," "Dirty Love," and especially "Dinah-Moe Humm" leave him on shaky aesthetic ground. Zappa often protested that the charges of misogyny leveled at such material missed out on the implicit satire of male stupidity, and also confirmed intellectuals' self-conscious reticence about indulging in dumb fun; however, the glee in his voice as he spins his adolescent fantasies can undermine his point. Indeed, that enjoyment, also evident in the silly wordplay, suggests that Zappa is throwing his juvenile crassness in the face of critical expectation, asserting his right to follow his muse even if it leads him into blatant stupidity (ironic or otherwise). One can read this motif into the absurd shaggy-dog story of a dental floss rancher in "Montana," the album's indisputable highlight, which features amazing, uncredited vocal backing from Tina Turner and the Ikettes. As with much of Zappa's best '70s and '80s material, Over-Nite Sensation could be perceived as ideologically problematic (if you haven't got the constitution for FZ's humor), but musically, it's terrific.
Love it or hate it, Over-Nite Sensation was a watershed album for Frank Zappa, the point where his post-'60s aesthetic was truly established; it became his second gold album, and most of these songs became staples of his live shows for years to come. Whereas the Flo and Eddie years were dominated by rambling, off-color comedy routines, Over-Nite Sensation tightened up the song structures and tucked sexual and social humor into melodic, technically accomplished heavy guitar rock with jazzy chord changes and funky rhythms; meanwhile, Zappa's growling new post-accident voice takes over the storytelling. While the music is some of Zappa's most accessible, the apparent callousness and/or stunning sexual explicitness of "Camarillo Brillo," "Dirty Love," and especially "Dinah-Moe Humm" leave him on shaky aesthetic ground. Zappa often protested that the charges of misogyny leveled at such material missed out on the implicit satire of male stupidity, and also confirmed intellectuals' self-conscious reticence about indulging in dumb fun; however, the glee in his voice as he spins his adolescent fantasies can undermine his point. Indeed, that enjoyment, also evident in the silly wordplay, suggests that Zappa is throwing his juvenile crassness in the face of critical expectation, asserting his right to follow his muse even if it leads him into blatant stupidity (ironic or otherwise). One can read this motif into the absurd shaggy-dog story of a dental floss rancher in "Montana," the album's indisputable highlight, which features amazing, uncredited vocal backing from Tina Turner and the Ikettes. As with much of Zappa's best '70s and '80s material, Over-Nite Sensation could be perceived as ideologically problematic (if you haven't got the constitution for FZ's humor), but musically, it's terrific.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:01 (thirteen years ago)
The Zappa haters should enjoy that Reaper piece!
I'll have to admit I'm slightly disappointed more people didn't vote for T2. I think it deserves no less than top 150. I guess I campaigned too late for that one.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
Anyone my age in the UK grew up with a rock press that dictated Beefheart good, Zappa bad.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
I think emil.y would dig a lot of Zappa if she heard it tbh. Maybe not these 2 that have placed though.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:03 (thirteen years ago)
even if the music is actually great
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:06 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah but beyond a few critics, Zappa was a hundred times more popular than Beefheart, at least in the U.S. Growing up as a Beefheart fan, I can't count the number of times people say, "Oh yeah Beefheart, I love Zappa, man!" Nooo! I had a roommate in college who had all his damn albums and I gave him an earnest shot, listening to every last one. I enjoy some Mothers and a few moments from Hot Rats and a couple others, but in general, fuck Zappa.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:10 (thirteen years ago)
339. BUDGIE In For The Kill (760 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #75 for 1974 , #2916 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/787/MI0001787637.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
...dense, heat-dulled landscapes, the songs hauled away slowly and muscularly, dragged unwillingly into a crate marked for delivery to the 20th century. The title track (covered by Van Halen in their bar band days), "Crash Course In Brain Surgery" (covered lovingly by Metallica on their coveted Garage Days EP) and "Zoom Club" are the loud, aggressive power trio dust-ups, while "Hammer And Tongs" glues Black Sabbath to "Dazed And Confused" for what purpose, who can say? I only know it hurtsw like a rubber hose to the windpipe. Far out, man, Budgie taking us on a chugging old truck of a trip, exxcept where we end up is no promised land, more like the land of the deaf and damned. 7/9 -- M. Popoff
reviewby Greg PratoBudgie's fourth release, In for the Kill! (originally on MCA), confirmed their consistent metal songwriting. Like past releases, the album features huge metal riffs courtesy of guitarist Tony Bourge and wailing vocals from bassist Burke Shelley. "Crash Course in Brain Surgery" (their second song to be covered by Metallica) contains a repetitive and continuous riff, while "Zoom Club" stresses the importance of the almighty power chord. The title track (rumored to have been covered by Van Halen back in their club days) is metal at its most vibrant, while the group balances the album by including a folk number with Beatles-like vocal harmonies ("Wondering What Everyone Knows"). "Living on Your Own" continues the band's tradition of lengthy closing numbers, ending another sadly overlooked album from this British band. Along with their first three albums (Budgie, Squawk, and Never Turn Your Back on a Friend), In for the Kill! is a robust collection of important (and, for its time, trailblazing) heavy metal.
Budgie's fourth release, In for the Kill! (originally on MCA), confirmed their consistent metal songwriting. Like past releases, the album features huge metal riffs courtesy of guitarist Tony Bourge and wailing vocals from bassist Burke Shelley. "Crash Course in Brain Surgery" (their second song to be covered by Metallica) contains a repetitive and continuous riff, while "Zoom Club" stresses the importance of the almighty power chord. The title track (rumored to have been covered by Van Halen back in their club days) is metal at its most vibrant, while the group balances the album by including a folk number with Beatles-like vocal harmonies ("Wondering What Everyone Knows"). "Living on Your Own" continues the band's tradition of lengthy closing numbers, ending another sadly overlooked album from this British band. Along with their first three albums (Budgie, Squawk, and Never Turn Your Back on a Friend), In for the Kill! is a robust collection of important (and, for its time, trailblazing) heavy metal.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:15 (thirteen years ago)
336. MAN Back Into The Future (761 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #292 for 1973http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/654/MI0000654635.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2olJXtqVKNEVNIyRA07hBA
review[-] by Paul CollinsRock music is littered with bands that wrecked on the studio/live double album concept; Man is rare in that their attempt, despite the departure of Clive John, brought them their first real success. The band's tight performance and increasingly ambitious musical experimentation made Back into the Future the first Man album to chart in the U.K.; when it hit number 23, it was to be the band's high-water mark. Despite the band's live reputation, the studio album probably holds greater interest for listeners today. The title track is a lyrical evocation of the album's charming cover art -- a staged before-and-after shot of a railway station in its Edwardian prime, and then in modern decrepitude. The song's wistful glance at the past blurs with dabs of modern psychedelia, and it conveys the post-Sgt. Pepper's fascination of British rockers with the costumed grandeur of Empire past. But it is "Ain't Their Fight," with its echoing vocals and windmilling guitar riffs, that stands out as one of the band's most satisfying tracks. Most of the rest of the album is comprised of lengthy instrumentals, but the opening "Never Say Nups to Nepalese" is worth noting for its gloriously crashing crescendo, cheerfully lifted from Pink Floyd's "Echoes." And while the live set uses a male choir to haunting effect in the slow psychedelic jam of "C'mon," it's more typified by the indulgent 21-minute boogie marathon of "Jam Jelly Up Tight." Much like the third record of George Harrison's All Things Must Pass, it must have seemed a great idea when stoned, but it's interminable today. Nonetheless, the album stands up as a fine artifact of the band's heyday.
Rock music is littered with bands that wrecked on the studio/live double album concept; Man is rare in that their attempt, despite the departure of Clive John, brought them their first real success. The band's tight performance and increasingly ambitious musical experimentation made Back into the Future the first Man album to chart in the U.K.; when it hit number 23, it was to be the band's high-water mark. Despite the band's live reputation, the studio album probably holds greater interest for listeners today. The title track is a lyrical evocation of the album's charming cover art -- a staged before-and-after shot of a railway station in its Edwardian prime, and then in modern decrepitude. The song's wistful glance at the past blurs with dabs of modern psychedelia, and it conveys the post-Sgt. Pepper's fascination of British rockers with the costumed grandeur of Empire past. But it is "Ain't Their Fight," with its echoing vocals and windmilling guitar riffs, that stands out as one of the band's most satisfying tracks. Most of the rest of the album is comprised of lengthy instrumentals, but the opening "Never Say Nups to Nepalese" is worth noting for its gloriously crashing crescendo, cheerfully lifted from Pink Floyd's "Echoes." And while the live set uses a male choir to haunting effect in the slow psychedelic jam of "C'mon," it's more typified by the indulgent 21-minute boogie marathon of "Jam Jelly Up Tight." Much like the third record of George Harrison's All Things Must Pass, it must have seemed a great idea when stoned, but it's interminable today. Nonetheless, the album stands up as a fine artifact of the band's heyday.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:25 (thirteen years ago)
So what's that bird holding, a leather jacket?
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:26 (thirteen years ago)
Or a studded gimp hood?
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:34 (thirteen years ago)
336. OS MUTANTES A Divina Comedia ou Ando Meio Desligado (761 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #36 for 1970 , #918 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/104/MI0002104921.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5WPW2N7iOGrLVgsNIsmW6Z
review[-] by Ari WiznitzerThree Brazilian teenagers start a garage band. They know nothing of music theory, have no equipment (they built their own guitar pedals and used tin cans as cymbals), but lots and lots of cannabis. Though the existence of Os Mutantes is in itself unremarkable, what is mind-blowing is the top-notch quality of the music. These three teens, Rita Lee (vocals), Sergio Baptista (guitar), and Arnaldo Baptista (drums), while attempting to mimic their heroes in the states, were able to surpass them. This was due to their inability to adequately imitate (due to their geographic isolation), and the band's unfettered creativity. For these reasons, their meld of otherworldly guitar noise, crisp harmonies, and propulsive drumming found no equal among American counterparts like the 13th Floor Elevators and the Electric Prunes. While these bands just picked up where Sgt. Pepper's left off, Os Mutantes made music that had no point of reference until almost 30 years later. This album is one of their best, and it showcases the band's ability to morph genres into their own warped originality. The opener "Ando Meio Desligado" beats American psychedelic rock at its own game, combining a great hook with untamed guitar theatrics and sound effects. On "Meu Refrigerador Neo Funciona," Rita Lee does Janis Joplin while Sergio overdubs his patented weirdness. "Desculpe, Baby" is a deceptively simple but intricate ballad, while "Hey Boy" turns doo wop on its head, contorting it into a whole new form. With each listen, A Divina Comedia on Ando Meio Desligado unveils new secrets, making it well worth the price of admission -- lower than ever now that it's been reissued stateside.
Three Brazilian teenagers start a garage band. They know nothing of music theory, have no equipment (they built their own guitar pedals and used tin cans as cymbals), but lots and lots of cannabis. Though the existence of Os Mutantes is in itself unremarkable, what is mind-blowing is the top-notch quality of the music. These three teens, Rita Lee (vocals), Sergio Baptista (guitar), and Arnaldo Baptista (drums), while attempting to mimic their heroes in the states, were able to surpass them. This was due to their inability to adequately imitate (due to their geographic isolation), and the band's unfettered creativity. For these reasons, their meld of otherworldly guitar noise, crisp harmonies, and propulsive drumming found no equal among American counterparts like the 13th Floor Elevators and the Electric Prunes. While these bands just picked up where Sgt. Pepper's left off, Os Mutantes made music that had no point of reference until almost 30 years later. This album is one of their best, and it showcases the band's ability to morph genres into their own warped originality. The opener "Ando Meio Desligado" beats American psychedelic rock at its own game, combining a great hook with untamed guitar theatrics and sound effects. On "Meu Refrigerador Neo Funciona," Rita Lee does Janis Joplin while Sergio overdubs his patented weirdness. "Desculpe, Baby" is a deceptively simple but intricate ballad, while "Hey Boy" turns doo wop on its head, contorting it into a whole new form. With each listen, A Divina Comedia on Ando Meio Desligado unveils new secrets, making it well worth the price of admission -- lower than ever now that it's been reissued stateside.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:35 (thirteen years ago)
Three Brazilian teenagers start a garage band. They know nothing of music theory, have no equipment (they built their own guitar pedals and used tin cans as cymbals), but lots and lots of cannabis.
You sure about this, Ari Wiz?
― Mark G, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:38 (thirteen years ago)
Think it's perched on a falconer's gaunlet actually. Pretty funny bird, sure as shit isn't a budgie. Looks like a buzzard, could be wrong though.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 16:41 (thirteen years ago)
336. JUDAS PRIEST Hell Bent for Leather/Killing Machine (761 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #72 for 1978 , #3217 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/677/MI0000677711.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5Ud4v6Y2UC3uNeTdVssXj0
Priest was firing on all sixes, replacing the sophisticated sheers and silks of Stained Class with the tough-as-nails ride-hidedness of black leather. Priest were unwittingly ushering in a new era for metal, the band re-characterizing themselves as get-dirty participants versus lofty academics, shaking their airtight metal architecture with a new combat ethic, painting it war-ready olive green, finding vibration, bottom end, and an ever so slight propensity for wayward, uncontrollable wattage. Thus the band's tracks become more primal and simultaneously more commercial (now that's potent), Halford's lyrical visions were universal, forceful, but also a little more, ahem, dog-walked on the wild side...once again, Priest prove themselves the most vital creative metal force of the day, Sabbath on the wane, Rainbow on the rocks, Scorpions full of momentum, but about to get more commercial, Maiden (domed to diminished impact by default of its placement in a more marketing-oriented age for metal), still lying in imitative wait. 10/10 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Steve HueyGiven the less violent moniker Hell Bent for Leather for U.S. release (as if that makes any sense), Killing Machine is a transitional album between the progressive-minded complexity of Stained Class and the more commercialized stadium rock of British Steel. In terms of image, however, Judas Priest comes into their own here, creating modern heavy metal fashion by donning studded leather outfits that recalled biker subculture (a connection Rob Halford supported by riding a Harley-Davidson on-stage) but -- in one of metal's supreme ironies -- actually came from gay S&M clubs. Now looking as fierce as their music sounded, Priest set about scaling back the ambition of Stained Class, making the songs more concise and immediate, with simpler structures and fewer underlying subtleties. However, the band largely maintains its then-trademark aggression; the simpler songs actually allow them to hike the tempo on the proto-speed metal numbers even more, and there are hints of blues-rock creeping back into the overall sound, complementing the newfound tough-guy swagger in the band's attitude. At the same time, the relative simplicity also provides the first glimpse of the band's more commercial instincts. If these competing impulses don't make for their most cohesive album, it's also true that most of what's here was still pretty peerless for its time. If Stained Class was the death album, Killing Machine is the sex album -- "Delivering the Goods," the title track, "Burnin' Up," and "Evil Fantasies" are all loaded with S&M imagery, while "Running Wild" is a nightlife party anthem, and "Before the Dawn" a morose heartbreak ballad that nonetheless works in context as the downside of all this carnality. "Delivering the Goods" in particular ranks with their best straightforward rockers, while "Hell Bent for Leather" pushes ever farther towards speed metal proper, crystallizing Halford's leather-and-motorcycle obsessions into one of the band's signature statements. The other title track, "Killing Machine," is a midtempo stomper about a contract hitman, and there's yet another brilliantly reinvented cover song, as the band transforms the Peter Green-era Fleetwood Mac chestnut "The Green Manalishi (With the Two-Pronged Crown)" into a heavy, sinister groover. Of the more commercial material, the anthemic chorus of "Evening Star" leaves the best impression, while "Rock Forever" is their first explicit ode to heavy metal itself (and there would be many, many more to come). The uneasiest implications for the future come from "Take on the World," a lunkheaded stadium shout-along that gave the band its first British hit single, and is clearly patterned after Queen's "We Will Rock You." Occasional missteps and all, Killing Machine closes the book on Judas Priest's early period, which constitutes some of the most influential heavy metal ever recorded. The flood of NWOBHM talent they'd inspired was about to be unleashed on the record-buying public, and henceforth, Priest was intent on reaping the rewards. They would remain a vital force in their second, more commercial phase (more so than some fans of their late-'70s classics might care to admit), but their work of redefining the genre had largely been completed.
Given the less violent moniker Hell Bent for Leather for U.S. release (as if that makes any sense), Killing Machine is a transitional album between the progressive-minded complexity of Stained Class and the more commercialized stadium rock of British Steel. In terms of image, however, Judas Priest comes into their own here, creating modern heavy metal fashion by donning studded leather outfits that recalled biker subculture (a connection Rob Halford supported by riding a Harley-Davidson on-stage) but -- in one of metal's supreme ironies -- actually came from gay S&M clubs. Now looking as fierce as their music sounded, Priest set about scaling back the ambition of Stained Class, making the songs more concise and immediate, with simpler structures and fewer underlying subtleties. However, the band largely maintains its then-trademark aggression; the simpler songs actually allow them to hike the tempo on the proto-speed metal numbers even more, and there are hints of blues-rock creeping back into the overall sound, complementing the newfound tough-guy swagger in the band's attitude. At the same time, the relative simplicity also provides the first glimpse of the band's more commercial instincts. If these competing impulses don't make for their most cohesive album, it's also true that most of what's here was still pretty peerless for its time. If Stained Class was the death album, Killing Machine is the sex album -- "Delivering the Goods," the title track, "Burnin' Up," and "Evil Fantasies" are all loaded with S&M imagery, while "Running Wild" is a nightlife party anthem, and "Before the Dawn" a morose heartbreak ballad that nonetheless works in context as the downside of all this carnality. "Delivering the Goods" in particular ranks with their best straightforward rockers, while "Hell Bent for Leather" pushes ever farther towards speed metal proper, crystallizing Halford's leather-and-motorcycle obsessions into one of the band's signature statements. The other title track, "Killing Machine," is a midtempo stomper about a contract hitman, and there's yet another brilliantly reinvented cover song, as the band transforms the Peter Green-era Fleetwood Mac chestnut "The Green Manalishi (With the Two-Pronged Crown)" into a heavy, sinister groover. Of the more commercial material, the anthemic chorus of "Evening Star" leaves the best impression, while "Rock Forever" is their first explicit ode to heavy metal itself (and there would be many, many more to come). The uneasiest implications for the future come from "Take on the World," a lunkheaded stadium shout-along that gave the band its first British hit single, and is clearly patterned after Queen's "We Will Rock You." Occasional missteps and all, Killing Machine closes the book on Judas Priest's early period, which constitutes some of the most influential heavy metal ever recorded. The flood of NWOBHM talent they'd inspired was about to be unleashed on the record-buying public, and henceforth, Priest was intent on reaping the rewards. They would remain a vital force in their second, more commercial phase (more so than some fans of their late-'70s classics might care to admit), but their work of redefining the genre had largely been completed.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:45 (thirteen years ago)
Still catching up here but, uh, how exactly is Bröselmaschine a rock album? LOL I mean, I like it, I ain't complaining...
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 16:47 (thirteen years ago)
cannabis is my favorite musical instrument
― Mordy, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:47 (thirteen years ago)
Oh nevermind, no need to catch up this the real start of the poll right now at #336.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 16:48 (thirteen years ago)
a recap would be nice though my good man :)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:48 (thirteen years ago)
considering that no one seems to be making a comprehensive playlist, i thought i'd share this - http://open.spotify.com/user/mordys/playlist/5LNUuTNe2ivHo3oT9xiB2u - which is my personal playlist of stuff from this poll that i wanted to check out / listen to again.
― Mordy, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:51 (thirteen years ago)
Gonna listen to the Os Mutantes album after I listen to a few tracks from Warhorse...
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 16:52 (thirteen years ago)
this os mutantes album is great btw! i'm listening to it now
― Mordy, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:52 (thirteen years ago)
335. BABY HUEY & THE BABYSITTERS The Baby Huey Story (764 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #81 for 1971 , #1947 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/430/MI0000430610.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2lTfjZPS0xFQE3cbGZf92T
review[-] by Wade KerganBaby Huey's only album, released after his untimely death, is titled The Living Legend with good reason. He was legendary in his appearance, a 400-pound man with a penchant for flamboyant clothing and crowned by a woolly Afro, a look that is best illustrated by one of several rare photos included in the Water Records edition that shows our man in a wide-lapeled polka-dot shirt with a lime-green jacket. Beyond his unusual appearance, though, he was graced with a stunning, fierce voice on par with Otis Redding and Howard Tate, wailing and howling one moment and oddly tender and sentimental the next. Nowhere on Living Legend is his range more apparent than the opening track, "Listen to Me," where listeners are introduced to both the enigma of Baby Huey and his diamond-tough psychedelic funk backing band, the Baby Sitters. The high-energy instrumental workout "Mama Get Yourself Together" is worthy of the J.B.'s and a hazy, spiraling ten-minute rendition of Sam Cooke's chestnut "A Change Is Going to Come" confirms that the Baby Sitters could hold their own with Blood, Sweat & Tears. Further lore that catapults The Living Legend from good to great: the production was helmed by Curtis Mayfield, reason enough to make it near essential, and is highlighted by three of his compositions, "Mighty Mighty," which Mayfield and the Impressions recorded a few years earlier; "Running," a classic Mayfield cut that can only be heard here ripped to glorious bits by a band that is trying to let every member solo; and "Hard Times," which Mayfield himself would revisit on his 1975 album There's No Place Like America Today, although Baby Huey's razor-edged reading remains the definitive version -- no small caveat considering Mayfield not only wrote the tune, but could rightfully be considered one of the architects of soul to boot.
Baby Huey's only album, released after his untimely death, is titled The Living Legend with good reason. He was legendary in his appearance, a 400-pound man with a penchant for flamboyant clothing and crowned by a woolly Afro, a look that is best illustrated by one of several rare photos included in the Water Records edition that shows our man in a wide-lapeled polka-dot shirt with a lime-green jacket. Beyond his unusual appearance, though, he was graced with a stunning, fierce voice on par with Otis Redding and Howard Tate, wailing and howling one moment and oddly tender and sentimental the next. Nowhere on Living Legend is his range more apparent than the opening track, "Listen to Me," where listeners are introduced to both the enigma of Baby Huey and his diamond-tough psychedelic funk backing band, the Baby Sitters. The high-energy instrumental workout "Mama Get Yourself Together" is worthy of the J.B.'s and a hazy, spiraling ten-minute rendition of Sam Cooke's chestnut "A Change Is Going to Come" confirms that the Baby Sitters could hold their own with Blood, Sweat & Tears. Further lore that catapults The Living Legend from good to great: the production was helmed by Curtis Mayfield, reason enough to make it near essential, and is highlighted by three of his compositions, "Mighty Mighty," which Mayfield and the Impressions recorded a few years earlier; "Running," a classic Mayfield cut that can only be heard here ripped to glorious bits by a band that is trying to let every member solo; and "Hard Times," which Mayfield himself would revisit on his 1975 album There's No Place Like America Today, although Baby Huey's razor-edged reading remains the definitive version -- no small caveat considering Mayfield not only wrote the tune, but could rightfully be considered one of the architects of soul to boot.
biography[-] by Steve HueyA locally beloved figure on the Chicago soul scene, Baby Huey never achieved quite the same renown outside of his hometown, despite an exciting live act and a record on Curtis Mayfield's Curtom label. Born James Ramey in Richmond, IN, in 1944, Baby Huey was literally an enormous stage presence: a glandular problem kept his weight around 350-400 pounds and beyond. He began performing in Chicago clubs in 1963 with his backing band the Babysitters and soon became a popular concert draw. As the '60s wore on, Baby Huey's sound moved from energetic R&B into a more psychedelic brand of soul, with a vocal style that drew comparisons to Otis Redding. He signed with Curtom and recorded a debut album, The Baby Huey Story: The Living Legend, that featured several Curtis Mayfield songs (most notably the oft-sampled "Hard Times" and "Mighty Mighty Children"), plus a cover of Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come." Sadly, Baby Huey didn't live to see it released; his weight and substance-abuse problems were exacting a steep toll on his body, and on October 28, 1970, he suffered a drug-related heart attack in a hotel room in Chicago. The album was released early the next year, and the Babysitters attempted to carry on for a while with a new lead singer, the still-teenaged Chaka Khan (she would, of course, go on to fame as the frontwoman of funk band Rufus shortly thereafter). In the years since, Baby Huey's lone LP has become a sought-after collectible among soul fanatics.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:55 (thirteen years ago)
Some amazing stuff on this terrific album. One can only wonder about how great he could've been.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 16:57 (thirteen years ago)
334. MANDRILL Just Outside Of Town (767 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #600 for 1973
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/389/MI0001389772.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3cQ14nV9GWEogResYUXiOn
review[-] by John BushIt lacked the delicious hooks and tight funk of Composite Truth, but Just Outside of Town was as solid and confident a piece of music-making as the band ever accomplished. The single "Mango Meat" is a tough Latin funk number with some inspired group harmonizing, and Mandrill stretched out with a pair of love songs, "Never Die" and the aptly titled "Love Song," the latter beginning with a few minutes of atmospheric bliss that boasted unrealized cinematic/soundtrack possibilities. "Fat City Strut" moves back and forth between blasts of brass-powered funk and the sweet seduction of Latin percussion and a vibes solo. The distorted funk monster "Two Sisters of Mystery" is another classic, one that later enticed producer Gary G-Wiz to sample it for Public Enemy's "By the Time I Get to Arizona." The last two songs were very uncharacteristic for Mandrill, one a bluesy/country song with a pop gloss, the other an ambling instrumental led by an acoustic guitar and including a few out-of-place synthesizer shadings. It certainly wasn't Mandrill going out on top (for an album, or for its period at Polydor), but it certainly summed up the promise of one of funk's most courageous bands.
It lacked the delicious hooks and tight funk of Composite Truth, but Just Outside of Town was as solid and confident a piece of music-making as the band ever accomplished. The single "Mango Meat" is a tough Latin funk number with some inspired group harmonizing, and Mandrill stretched out with a pair of love songs, "Never Die" and the aptly titled "Love Song," the latter beginning with a few minutes of atmospheric bliss that boasted unrealized cinematic/soundtrack possibilities. "Fat City Strut" moves back and forth between blasts of brass-powered funk and the sweet seduction of Latin percussion and a vibes solo. The distorted funk monster "Two Sisters of Mystery" is another classic, one that later enticed producer Gary G-Wiz to sample it for Public Enemy's "By the Time I Get to Arizona." The last two songs were very uncharacteristic for Mandrill, one a bluesy/country song with a pop gloss, the other an ambling instrumental led by an acoustic guitar and including a few out-of-place synthesizer shadings. It certainly wasn't Mandrill going out on top (for an album, or for its period at Polydor), but it certainly summed up the promise of one of funk's most courageous bands.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:05 (thirteen years ago)
One of the most underrated bands ever
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:07 (thirteen years ago)
haha that one Zappa review is brutal!!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:07 (thirteen years ago)
beyond a few critics, Zappa was a hundred times more popular than Beefheart, at least in the U.S.
He gets plenty of respect from musicians, composers, and teachers too.
Who among today’s musical generation actually listens to albums like Grand Wazoo ... for inspiration?
*raises hand*
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:11 (thirteen years ago)
333. ZZ TOP Degüello (771 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #91 for 1979 , #4523 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/999/MI0001999125.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/339EONXrRgL9iLpxOKrUJZ
These guys got off the road for real--sounds as if they spent all three years playing the blues on their front porch. The strident arena technique is gone, every song gives back a verbal phrase or two to make up for the musical ones it appropriates, and to vary the trio format they not only learned how to play horns but figured out where to put them. I've heard a shitload of white blues albums in the wake of Belushi & Aykroyd. This is the best by miles. A- -- R. Christgau
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineZZ Top returned after an extended layoff in late 1979 with Degüello, their best album since 1973's Tres Hombres. During their time off, ZZ Top didn't change much -- hell, their sound never really changed during their entire career -- but it did harden, in a way. The grooves became harder, sleeker, and their off-kilter sensibility and humor began to dominate, as "Cheap Sunglasses" and "Fool for Your Stockings" illustrate. Ironically, this, their wildest album lyrically, doesn't have the unhinged rawness of their early blooze rockers, but the streamlined production makes it feel sleazier all the same, since its slickness lets the perversity slide forth. And, forget not, the trio is in fine shape here, knocking out a great set of rockers and sounding stylish all the time. Undoubtedly one of their strong suits.
ZZ Top returned after an extended layoff in late 1979 with Degüello, their best album since 1973's Tres Hombres. During their time off, ZZ Top didn't change much -- hell, their sound never really changed during their entire career -- but it did harden, in a way. The grooves became harder, sleeker, and their off-kilter sensibility and humor began to dominate, as "Cheap Sunglasses" and "Fool for Your Stockings" illustrate. Ironically, this, their wildest album lyrically, doesn't have the unhinged rawness of their early blooze rockers, but the streamlined production makes it feel sleazier all the same, since its slickness lets the perversity slide forth. And, forget not, the trio is in fine shape here, knocking out a great set of rockers and sounding stylish all the time. Undoubtedly one of their strong suits.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:15 (thirteen years ago)
LOL yeah ZZ Top ended their hiatus cause of the success of the Blues Brothers.... I can't believe that guy got paid for writing.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:19 (thirteen years ago)
At least he gave it an A, like it deserves!
331. HEART Dreamboat Annie (773 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #136 for 1976http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/470/MI0002470109.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2N0AgtWbCmVoNUl2GN1opH
As apparently spontaneous pop phenomena go, a hardish folk-rock group led by two women is a moderately interesting one, especially when their composing beats that of the twixt-Balin Starplane, whom they otherwise recall. I said moderately. C+ -- R. ChristgauThe left-field commercial success of the year, Heart is a six-member Vancouver-based band built around the dual talents of lead singer and lyricist Ann Wilson and her sister Nancy (melodist and acoustic guitarist). Though crudely produced, the album has an intensity seldom found on more polished records. Most of the songs carry confused, too-elaborate arrangements but these technical inadequacies matter less when coupled with a voice as strong, flexible and emotionally captivating as Ann Wilson's. Her phrasing is as confident as Helen Reddy's, her timbre seductive as Christine McVie's, and her scalding hard-rock attack not unlike Robert Plant's; it is her performance which holds together the album's sharply defined,if not coherently developed, themes of supernatural love and sexual hysteria. The music runs from guitar-and-synthesizer-oriented rock with blues-based vocal and guitar hooks ("Magic Man" and "Crazy on You") to dreamy art-rock ("Soul of the Sea"). But the strongest piece is the haunting title theme, an acoustic folk fragment that is developed recurrently throughout the album. The success of Heart, in the wake of Fleetwood Mac, should point the way to still more acceptance of women rock singers in a field still very dominated by men. -- Stephen Holden, RS
The left-field commercial success of the year, Heart is a six-member Vancouver-based band built around the dual talents of lead singer and lyricist Ann Wilson and her sister Nancy (melodist and acoustic guitarist). Though crudely produced, the album has an intensity seldom found on more polished records.
Most of the songs carry confused, too-elaborate arrangements but these technical inadequacies matter less when coupled with a voice as strong, flexible and emotionally captivating as Ann Wilson's. Her phrasing is as confident as Helen Reddy's, her timbre seductive as Christine McVie's, and her scalding hard-rock attack not unlike Robert Plant's; it is her performance which holds together the album's sharply defined,if not coherently developed, themes of supernatural love and sexual hysteria. The music runs from guitar-and-synthesizer-oriented rock with blues-based vocal and guitar hooks ("Magic Man" and "Crazy on You") to dreamy art-rock ("Soul of the Sea"). But the strongest piece is the haunting title theme, an acoustic folk fragment that is developed recurrently throughout the album. The success of Heart, in the wake of Fleetwood Mac, should point the way to still more acceptance of women rock singers in a field still very dominated by men. -- Stephen Holden, RS
reviewby Alex HendersonIn the 1980s and '90s, numerous women recorded blistering rock, but things were quite different in 1976 -- when female singers tended to be pigeonholed as soft rockers and singer/songwriters and were encouraged to take after Carly Simon, Melissa Manchester, or Joni Mitchell rather than Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath. Greatly influenced by Zep, Heart did its part to help open doors for ladies of loudness with the excellent Dreamboat Annie (reissued on a gold audiophile CD by DCC Compact Classics in 1995). Aggressive yet melodic rockers like "Sing Child," "White Lightning & Wine," and the rock radio staples "Magic Man" and "Crazy on You" led to the tag "the female Led Zeppelin." And in fact, Robert Plant did have a strong influence on Ann Wilson. But those numbers and caressing, folk-ish ballads like "How Deep It Goes" and the title song also make it clear that the Nancy and Ann Wilson had their own identity and vision early on.
In the 1980s and '90s, numerous women recorded blistering rock, but things were quite different in 1976 -- when female singers tended to be pigeonholed as soft rockers and singer/songwriters and were encouraged to take after Carly Simon, Melissa Manchester, or Joni Mitchell rather than Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath. Greatly influenced by Zep, Heart did its part to help open doors for ladies of loudness with the excellent Dreamboat Annie (reissued on a gold audiophile CD by DCC Compact Classics in 1995). Aggressive yet melodic rockers like "Sing Child," "White Lightning & Wine," and the rock radio staples "Magic Man" and "Crazy on You" led to the tag "the female Led Zeppelin." And in fact, Robert Plant did have a strong influence on Ann Wilson. But those numbers and caressing, folk-ish ballads like "How Deep It Goes" and the title song also make it clear that the Nancy and Ann Wilson had their own identity and vision early on.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:25 (thirteen years ago)
xp To be fair, that's not what he said. He didn't say the Blues Brothers inspired ZZ Top lol. Christgau is annoying but I gotta respect how he did listen to everything he could, and seemed to have integrity in that he was not influenced by trends or popular opinions.
Also Blues Brothers were doing their thing since '76 and released an album in '78 and were quite popular, creating renewed interest in that kind of stuff at the time.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:29 (thirteen years ago)
That riff that runs thru "I Thank You" on Degüello reminds me so much of Neu!.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
Kids today are INSANE for Heart. http://rookiemag.com/2012/02/literally-the-best-thing-ever-heart/
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:32 (thirteen years ago)
i only knew barracuda b4 this album but this whole album is hot
― Mordy, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:33 (thirteen years ago)
331 Monitor - Beak 773 6 0 DQ - SINGLE not album
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:36 (thirteen years ago)
330. LED ZEPPELIN Led Zeppelin III (778 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #8 for 1970 , #117 overall | Acclaimed: #392 | Pitchfork: #27http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/688/MI0001688966.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
If the great blues guitarists can make their instruments cry out like human voices, it's only fitting that Robert Plant should make his voice galvanize like an electric guitar. I've always approved theoretically of the formula that pits the untiring freak intensity of that voice against Jimmy Page's repeated low-register fuzz riffs, and here they really whip it into shape. Plant is overpowering even when Page goes to his acoustic, as he does to great effect on several surprisingly folky (not to mention folk bluesy) cuts. No drum solos, either. Heavy.B+ -- R. ChristgauI keep nursing this love-hate attitude toward Led Zeppelin. Partly from genuine interest and mostly indefensible hopes, in part from the conviction that nobody that crass could be all that bad. I turn to each fresh album expection--what? Certianly not subtle echoes of the monolithic Yardbirds, or authentic blues experiments, or even much variety. Maybe it's just that they seem like the ultimate Seventies Calf of Gold.The Zep, of all bands surviving, are today--their music is as ephemeral as Marvel comix, and as vivid as an old Technicolor cartoon. IT doesn't challenge anybody's intelligence or sinsibilities, relying instead on a pat visceral impact that will insure absolute stardom for many moons to come. Their albums refine the crude public tools of all dull white blues bands into something awesome in its very insensitive grossness, like a Cecil B. DeMille epic. If I rely so much on fisual and filmic metaphors, it's because they apply so exactly. I've never made a Zep show, but friends (most of them the type, admittedly, who will listen to anything so long's it's loud and they're destroyed) describe a thunderous, near-undifferentiated tidal wave of sound that doesn't engross but envelops to snuff any possible distraction.Their third album deviates little from the track laid by the first two, even though they go acoustic on several numbers. Most of the acoustic stuff sounds like standard Zep graded down decibelwise, and the heavy blitzes could've been outtakes from Zeppelin II. In fact, when I first heard the album my main impression was the consistent anonymity of most of the songs--no one could mistake the band, but no gimmicks stand out with any special outrageousness, as did the great, gleffully absurd Orangutang Plant-cum-wheezing guitar freakout that made "Whole Lotta Love" sucha a pulp classic. "Immigrant Son" comes cloest, with its bull-dozer rhythms and Bobby Plant's double-tracked wordless vocal croonings echoing behind the main vocal like some cannibal chorus wailing in the infernal light of a savage fertility rite. What's great about it, though, the Zep's special genius, is that the whole effect is so utterly two-dimensional and unreal. You could play it, as I did, while watching a pagan priestess performing the ritual dance of Ka before the flaming sacrificial altar in Fire Maidens of Outer Space with the TV sound turned off. And believe me, the Zep made my blood throb to those jungle rhythms even more frenziedly.Unfortunately, precious little of Z III's remaining hysteria is as useful or as effectively melodramatic. "Friends' has a fine bitter acoustic lead, but gives itself over almost entirely to monotonously shrill Plant breast-beatings. Rob, give a listen to Iggy Stooge...Finally I must mentoin a song called "That's the Way," because it's the first song they've ever done that has truly moved me. Son of a gun, it's beautiful. Above a very simple and appropriately everyday acoustic riff, Plant sings a touching picture of two youngsters who can no longer be playmates because one's parents and peers disapprove of the other because of long hair and being generally from "the dark side of town." The vocal is restrained for once--in fact, Plant's intonatoins are as plaintively gentle as some of the Rascals' best ballad work--and a perfectly modulated electronic drone wails in the background like melancholy harbor scows as the words fall soft as sooty snow: "And yesterday I saw you standing by the river / I read those tears that filled your eyes / And all the fish taht lay in dirty water dying / Had they got you hypnotized?" Beautiful, and strangely enough Zep. As sage Berry declared eons ago, it shore goes to show you never can tell. -- Lester Motherfucking Bangs, RS
I keep nursing this love-hate attitude toward Led Zeppelin. Partly from genuine interest and mostly indefensible hopes, in part from the conviction that nobody that crass could be all that bad. I turn to each fresh album expection--what? Certianly not subtle echoes of the monolithic Yardbirds, or authentic blues experiments, or even much variety. Maybe it's just that they seem like the ultimate Seventies Calf of Gold.
The Zep, of all bands surviving, are today--their music is as ephemeral as Marvel comix, and as vivid as an old Technicolor cartoon. IT doesn't challenge anybody's intelligence or sinsibilities, relying instead on a pat visceral impact that will insure absolute stardom for many moons to come. Their albums refine the crude public tools of all dull white blues bands into something awesome in its very insensitive grossness, like a Cecil B. DeMille epic. If I rely so much on fisual and filmic metaphors, it's because they apply so exactly. I've never made a Zep show, but friends (most of them the type, admittedly, who will listen to anything so long's it's loud and they're destroyed) describe a thunderous, near-undifferentiated tidal wave of sound that doesn't engross but envelops to snuff any possible distraction.
Their third album deviates little from the track laid by the first two, even though they go acoustic on several numbers. Most of the acoustic stuff sounds like standard Zep graded down decibelwise, and the heavy blitzes could've been outtakes from Zeppelin II. In fact, when I first heard the album my main impression was the consistent anonymity of most of the songs--no one could mistake the band, but no gimmicks stand out with any special outrageousness, as did the great, gleffully absurd Orangutang Plant-cum-wheezing guitar freakout that made "Whole Lotta Love" sucha a pulp classic. "Immigrant Son" comes cloest, with its bull-dozer rhythms and Bobby Plant's double-tracked wordless vocal croonings echoing behind the main vocal like some cannibal chorus wailing in the infernal light of a savage fertility rite. What's great about it, though, the Zep's special genius, is that the whole effect is so utterly two-dimensional and unreal. You could play it, as I did, while watching a pagan priestess performing the ritual dance of Ka before the flaming sacrificial altar in Fire Maidens of Outer Space with the TV sound turned off. And believe me, the Zep made my blood throb to those jungle rhythms even more frenziedly.
Unfortunately, precious little of Z III's remaining hysteria is as useful or as effectively melodramatic. "Friends' has a fine bitter acoustic lead, but gives itself over almost entirely to monotonously shrill Plant breast-beatings. Rob, give a listen to Iggy Stooge...Finally I must mentoin a song called "That's the Way," because it's the first song they've ever done that has truly moved me. Son of a gun, it's beautiful. Above a very simple and appropriately everyday acoustic riff, Plant sings a touching picture of two youngsters who can no longer be playmates because one's parents and peers disapprove of the other because of long hair and being generally from "the dark side of town." The vocal is restrained for once--in fact, Plant's intonatoins are as plaintively gentle as some of the Rascals' best ballad work--and a perfectly modulated electronic drone wails in the background like melancholy harbor scows as the words fall soft as sooty snow: "And yesterday I saw you standing by the river / I read those tears that filled your eyes / And all the fish taht lay in dirty water dying / Had they got you hypnotized?" Beautiful, and strangely enough Zep. As sage Berry declared eons ago, it shore goes to show you never can tell. -- Lester Motherfucking Bangs, RS
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineOn their first two albums, Led Zeppelin unleashed a relentless barrage of heavy blues and rockabilly riffs, but Led Zeppelin III provided the band with the necessary room to grow musically. While there are still a handful of metallic rockers, III is built on a folky, acoustic foundation that gives the music extra depth. And even the rockers aren't as straightforward as before: the galloping "Immigrant Song" is powered by Robert Plant's banshee wail, "Celebration Day" turns blues-rock inside out with a warped slide guitar riff, and "Out on the Tiles" lumbers along with a tricky, multi-part riff. Nevertheless, the heart of the album lies on the second side, when the band delve deeply into English folk. "Gallows Pole" updates a traditional tune with a menacing flair, and "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp" is an infectious acoustic romp, while "That's the Way" and "Tangerine" are shimmering songs with graceful country flourishes. The band hasn't left the blues behind, but the twisted bottleneck blues of "Hats off to (Roy) Harper" actually outstrips the epic "Since I've Been Loving You," which is the only time Zeppelin sound a bit set in their ways.
On their first two albums, Led Zeppelin unleashed a relentless barrage of heavy blues and rockabilly riffs, but Led Zeppelin III provided the band with the necessary room to grow musically. While there are still a handful of metallic rockers, III is built on a folky, acoustic foundation that gives the music extra depth. And even the rockers aren't as straightforward as before: the galloping "Immigrant Song" is powered by Robert Plant's banshee wail, "Celebration Day" turns blues-rock inside out with a warped slide guitar riff, and "Out on the Tiles" lumbers along with a tricky, multi-part riff. Nevertheless, the heart of the album lies on the second side, when the band delve deeply into English folk. "Gallows Pole" updates a traditional tune with a menacing flair, and "Bron-Y-Aur Stomp" is an infectious acoustic romp, while "That's the Way" and "Tangerine" are shimmering songs with graceful country flourishes. The band hasn't left the blues behind, but the twisted bottleneck blues of "Hats off to (Roy) Harper" actually outstrips the epic "Since I've Been Loving You," which is the only time Zeppelin sound a bit set in their ways.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:38 (thirteen years ago)
it's a really really short single too xp
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:39 (thirteen years ago)
http://static.rookiemag.com/2012/02/1329887801hearticle_p1.jpg
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:44 (thirteen years ago)
Not a massize Led Zep fan, but I do like III a whole lot, especially the folksy stuff. Hats Off To Harper is really horrible though, makes me feel sorry for poor old Roy - why couldn't they have named one of the good songs after him?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
La Lechera making me think I should perhaps take another listen to HEART
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:46 (thirteen years ago)
329. ULTRAVOX! Ha! Ha! Ha! (778 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #97 for 1977http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/136/MI0002136008.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2hZ1EQNtczX1Zx4O0aERBF
Ha!Ha!Ha! draws closer to punk's spirit, filled as it is with tight, straightforward rockers outlining a spirit of alienation and life free of love, companionship and comprehension. Billy Currie plays stunning electric violin and, on the climactic "Hiroshima Mon Amour," introduces full-force synthesizer into Ultravox's music, delineating the boundary between past and future. Recommended.
Ha!-Ha!-Ha! is a bruising album, a tsunami of a set that epitomized the fire and fury of its age. Icy to its core, producer Steve Lillywhite brilliantly captured both the band's urgency and the brittleness of their sound. Like the implosion of gases that ignited the Big Bang, Ha!-Ha!-Ha! hangs in the millisecond before the ensuing explosion, trembling with ferocious tension and fierce anticipation of the coming storm. Much of the set seems frozen in this moment in time and space, lyrically reflected in "Hiroshima Mon Amour," "Man Who Dies Every Day," and "Frozen Ones." Unlike the celebration of destruction that defined their debut set, Ultravox! now stood staring aghast into the abyss, with the manic exuberance of "Rockwrock" emerging not as the exhilarating dance through the death of civilization that many listeners assumed, but the band's panicked response to its collapse. And as fear took hold in the Western world, the band battered themselves against its crumbling walls, ravaged by the artificiality of the society rising amongst its ruins. Even decades on, the sheer ferocity of this set continues to impress.
Only John Foxx era is real. Fuck Midge Ure.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 17:50 (thirteen years ago)
I think Midge's only appearance in this poll so far is a writing credit on one of the Thin Lizzy albums upthread.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:53 (thirteen years ago)
It means nothing to him.
― Troughton-masked Replicant (aldo), Monday, 18 March 2013 17:54 (thirteen years ago)
328. JUDAS PRIEST Stained Class (784 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #19 for 1978, #765 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/677/MI0000677747.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0v6FGuCgvRotTNL1KoX297
review[-] by Steve HueyEasily one of the most important heavy metal albums ever released, Stained Class marks the peak of Judas Priest's influence, setting the sonic template for the New Wave of British Heavy Metal more than any other single recording. This is the point where Priest put it all together, embracing their identity as the heaviest band on the planet and taking the genre to new heights of power, speed, musicality, and malevolence. Not until Painkiller would the band again be this single-minded in its focus on pure heavy metal. Their blues-rock roots have been virtually obliterated; largely gone, too, are the softer textures and gothic ballads of albums past. The lone exception is the morbid masterpiece "Beyond the Realms of Death," on which the band finally finds a way to integrate the depressive balladry of songs like "Epitaph" and "Last Rose of Summer" into their metal side. Starting out with quiet, mournful verses, the song's chorus is ripped open by a blazing guitar riff as Rob Halford shrieks about leaving the world behind, a dramatic climax that sounds like a definite blueprint for Metallica's "Fade to Black." Yet it wasn't this song that inspired the ridiculous 1989-1990 court case involving the suicide pact of two Nevada teenagers; that honor goes to the Spooky Tooth cover "Better by You, Better Than Me" (penned by none other than the "Dream Weaver" himself, Gary Wright), on which the band allegedly embedded the subliminal backwards-recorded message "Do it." Astounding implausibility aside (as the band pointed out, why encourage the suicides of fans who spend money?), it isn't hard to see why Stained Class might invite such hysterical projections. On balance, it's the darkest lyrical work of the band's career, thematically obsessed with death, violence, and conquest. That's not to say it's always approving. Sure, there are battle cries like "White Heat, Red Hot," horrific nightmares like "Saints in Hell," and elements of the fantastic in the alien monsters of "Invader" and stone classic opener "Exciter." But the band stays philosophical just as often as not. The twisting, turning title track adopts the biblical view of man as a hopeless, fallen creature preyed upon by his baser instincts; "Savage" foreshadows Iron Maiden's "Run to the Hills" in depicting violent colonizers as the real savages; and closer "Heroes End" laments the many legends born from untimely deaths. So in the end, what really cements the celebrated morbidity of Stained Class is the sinister atmosphere created by the music itself. Never before had heavy metal sounded so viciously aggressive, and never before had that been combined with such impeccable chops. Seemingly at will, Tipton and Downing spit out brilliant riffs that cut with knife-like precision, usually several per song. This means that there's a lot to take in on Stained Class, but if there's nothing here as immediate as the band's later hits, there's also a tremendous amount that reveals itself only with repeated listens. While the album's overall complexity is unrivalled in the band's catalog, the songs still pack an enormous visceral impact; the tempos have often been jacked up to punk-level speed, and unlike albums past, there's no respite from the all-out adrenaline rush. Heavy metal had always dealt in extremes -- both sonically and emotionally -- but here was a fresh, vital new way to go about it. It's impossible to overstate the impact that Stained Class had on virtually all of the heavy metal that followed it, from the NWOBHM through thrash and speed metal onward, and it remains Judas Priest's greatest achievement.
Easily one of the most important heavy metal albums ever released, Stained Class marks the peak of Judas Priest's influence, setting the sonic template for the New Wave of British Heavy Metal more than any other single recording. This is the point where Priest put it all together, embracing their identity as the heaviest band on the planet and taking the genre to new heights of power, speed, musicality, and malevolence. Not until Painkiller would the band again be this single-minded in its focus on pure heavy metal. Their blues-rock roots have been virtually obliterated; largely gone, too, are the softer textures and gothic ballads of albums past. The lone exception is the morbid masterpiece "Beyond the Realms of Death," on which the band finally finds a way to integrate the depressive balladry of songs like "Epitaph" and "Last Rose of Summer" into their metal side. Starting out with quiet, mournful verses, the song's chorus is ripped open by a blazing guitar riff as Rob Halford shrieks about leaving the world behind, a dramatic climax that sounds like a definite blueprint for Metallica's "Fade to Black." Yet it wasn't this song that inspired the ridiculous 1989-1990 court case involving the suicide pact of two Nevada teenagers; that honor goes to the Spooky Tooth cover "Better by You, Better Than Me" (penned by none other than the "Dream Weaver" himself, Gary Wright), on which the band allegedly embedded the subliminal backwards-recorded message "Do it." Astounding implausibility aside (as the band pointed out, why encourage the suicides of fans who spend money?), it isn't hard to see why Stained Class might invite such hysterical projections. On balance, it's the darkest lyrical work of the band's career, thematically obsessed with death, violence, and conquest. That's not to say it's always approving. Sure, there are battle cries like "White Heat, Red Hot," horrific nightmares like "Saints in Hell," and elements of the fantastic in the alien monsters of "Invader" and stone classic opener "Exciter." But the band stays philosophical just as often as not. The twisting, turning title track adopts the biblical view of man as a hopeless, fallen creature preyed upon by his baser instincts; "Savage" foreshadows Iron Maiden's "Run to the Hills" in depicting violent colonizers as the real savages; and closer "Heroes End" laments the many legends born from untimely deaths. So in the end, what really cements the celebrated morbidity of Stained Class is the sinister atmosphere created by the music itself. Never before had heavy metal sounded so viciously aggressive, and never before had that been combined with such impeccable chops. Seemingly at will, Tipton and Downing spit out brilliant riffs that cut with knife-like precision, usually several per song. This means that there's a lot to take in on Stained Class, but if there's nothing here as immediate as the band's later hits, there's also a tremendous amount that reveals itself only with repeated listens. While the album's overall complexity is unrivalled in the band's catalog, the songs still pack an enormous visceral impact; the tempos have often been jacked up to punk-level speed, and unlike albums past, there's no respite from the all-out adrenaline rush. Heavy metal had always dealt in extremes -- both sonically and emotionally -- but here was a fresh, vital new way to go about it. It's impossible to overstate the impact that Stained Class had on virtually all of the heavy metal that followed it, from the NWOBHM through thrash and speed metal onward, and it remains Judas Priest's greatest achievement.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:00 (thirteen years ago)
Sorry, I forgot the Popoff quote and I don't have the book with me. You can just assume he spooges all over that album.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:07 (thirteen years ago)
It's weird how despite the upcoming NWOBHM explosion, not much was going on in metal in '78. There was that, the live Scorpions album, Rainbow and Yesterday & Today.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
327. ISLEY BROTHERS Go For Your Guns (787 Points, 7 Votes) RYM: #122 for 1977http://images.coveralia.com/audio/t/The_Isley_Brothers-Go_For_Your_Guns-Frontal.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0Ea4Ta6zPPI4ERbPSU3nZk
By the time the competent enough first side was over, I felt completely fed up with their mellifluous bullshit, especially since I'd noticed the title "Voyage to Atlantis" on side two. But that disaster excepted side two is the most hard-edged they've recorded since moving T-Neck to CBS in 1973. Needless to say, the one about "Climbin' Up the Ladder" is even more passionate than the one about "Livin' the Life." Nor is it surprising that the title tune has no lyrics at all. There's no riot goin' on. B -- R. Shitegau
reviewby Andrew HamiltonEvery ten years the Isley Brothers reinvented themselves and managed to snatch as many consumer dollars and generate enough chart action to remain contemporary. Go for Your Guns was a further attempt by the Isleys to broaden their fan base; earlier in the decade they redid many rock standards to expand from the R&B base they were mired in. the Isleys shoot for the moon and never make it, but they always land among the stars. This seven-song set got played to death on urban radio. "Living in the Life" rocks so hard it makes cheap speakers pop; "Go for Your Guns" is an instrumental jam featuring the second generation Isley Brothers: Ernie, Marvin, and Chris Jasper (Rudolph Isley's brother-in-law). The lovely, mystical "Voyage to Atlantis" is a staple of their live concerts, its opening strains acknowledged by deafening, enthusiastic applause. Like many Isley tunes, the loping, mid-tempo love tale "Footsteps in the Dark" has been sampled silly; "Pride" is a steady beater with uplifting words for the downtrodden. Nothing dull, no filler.
Every ten years the Isley Brothers reinvented themselves and managed to snatch as many consumer dollars and generate enough chart action to remain contemporary. Go for Your Guns was a further attempt by the Isleys to broaden their fan base; earlier in the decade they redid many rock standards to expand from the R&B base they were mired in. the Isleys shoot for the moon and never make it, but they always land among the stars. This seven-song set got played to death on urban radio. "Living in the Life" rocks so hard it makes cheap speakers pop; "Go for Your Guns" is an instrumental jam featuring the second generation Isley Brothers: Ernie, Marvin, and Chris Jasper (Rudolph Isley's brother-in-law). The lovely, mystical "Voyage to Atlantis" is a staple of their live concerts, its opening strains acknowledged by deafening, enthusiastic applause. Like many Isley tunes, the loping, mid-tempo love tale "Footsteps in the Dark" has been sampled silly; "Pride" is a steady beater with uplifting words for the downtrodden. Nothing dull, no filler.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
Terrific album. Ernie Isley is an amazing guitarist.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:20 (thirteen years ago)
326. ISAAC HAYES Black Moses (791 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #248 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/865/MI0000865308.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5IcZzzxAg8vUNjaxuwrREA
review[-] by Lindsay PlanerThe sheer tenacity -- albeit undeniably fitting -- of this double-disc set has made Black Moses (1971) one of Isaac Hayes' most revered and best-known works. The multi-instrumental singer/songwriter and producer had been a central figure in the Memphis soul music revolution of the mid-1960s. Along with Booker T. and The MG's, Hayes' wrote and performed on more Stax sides than any other single artist. By the time of this release -- his fifth overall, and first two-record set -- Hayes had firmly established himself as a progressive soul artist. His stretched out and well-developed R&B jams, as well as his husky-voiced sexy spoken "raps" became key components in his signature sound. Black Moses not only incorporates those leitmotifs, but also reaffirms Hayes abilities as an unmistakably original arranger. Although a majority of the album consists of cover material, all the scores have been reconfigured and adapted in such a fundamental way that, for some listeners, these renditions serve as definitive. This is certainly true of the extended reworkings of Jerry Butler's "Brand New Me," or Esther Phillips' "You're Love Is So Doggone Good" -- both of which are prefaced by the spoken prelude to coitus found in each respective installment of "Ike's Rap." The pair of Curtis Mayfield tunes -- "Man's Temptation" and "Need to Belong to Someone" -- are also worth noting for the layers of tastefully scored orchestration -- from both Hayes and his long-time associate Johnny Allen. The pair's efforts remain fresh and discerning, rather than the dated ersatz strings and horn sections that imitators were glutting the soul and pop charts and airwaves with in the mid-1970s. Hayes' own composition, "Good Love," recalls the upbeat and jive talkin' "Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic" from Hot Buttered Soul (1969), adding some spicy and sexy double-entendre in the chorus. Wisely, the CD reissue also reproduced Chester Higgins' original tongue-in-cheek liner note essay giving the history and mythology of the Black Moses persona.
The sheer tenacity -- albeit undeniably fitting -- of this double-disc set has made Black Moses (1971) one of Isaac Hayes' most revered and best-known works. The multi-instrumental singer/songwriter and producer had been a central figure in the Memphis soul music revolution of the mid-1960s. Along with Booker T. and The MG's, Hayes' wrote and performed on more Stax sides than any other single artist. By the time of this release -- his fifth overall, and first two-record set -- Hayes had firmly established himself as a progressive soul artist. His stretched out and well-developed R&B jams, as well as his husky-voiced sexy spoken "raps" became key components in his signature sound. Black Moses not only incorporates those leitmotifs, but also reaffirms Hayes abilities as an unmistakably original arranger. Although a majority of the album consists of cover material, all the scores have been reconfigured and adapted in such a fundamental way that, for some listeners, these renditions serve as definitive. This is certainly true of the extended reworkings of Jerry Butler's "Brand New Me," or Esther Phillips' "You're Love Is So Doggone Good" -- both of which are prefaced by the spoken prelude to coitus found in each respective installment of "Ike's Rap." The pair of Curtis Mayfield tunes -- "Man's Temptation" and "Need to Belong to Someone" -- are also worth noting for the layers of tastefully scored orchestration -- from both Hayes and his long-time associate Johnny Allen. The pair's efforts remain fresh and discerning, rather than the dated ersatz strings and horn sections that imitators were glutting the soul and pop charts and airwaves with in the mid-1970s. Hayes' own composition, "Good Love," recalls the upbeat and jive talkin' "Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic" from Hot Buttered Soul (1969), adding some spicy and sexy double-entendre in the chorus. Wisely, the CD reissue also reproduced Chester Higgins' original tongue-in-cheek liner note essay giving the history and mythology of the Black Moses persona.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:26 (thirteen years ago)
Another album I liked but just didn't think rocked enough to get a vote. If more of it was like "Climbing...", I would have probably voted for it.
xpost re Isleys
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 18 March 2013 18:28 (thirteen years ago)
I used to have this on my wall:
http://mobile.collectorsfrenzy.com/gallery/230845051484.jpg
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:32 (thirteen years ago)
325. HAWKWIND Quark, Strangeness & Charm (794 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #145 for 1977http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/735/MI0001735402.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3UiIkF8bC5qBqm4lNpEuYs
In the old days, this likable British band played more benefits than Joan Baez and helped give psychedelic rock its bad name--when you repeat three chords in 4/4 for forty-five minutes, it's politic to change riffs once in a while. Yet they're still around, and good for them. Here they manage to spread six songs over eight cuts--a trick accomplished by granting two rather ponderous jams names and numbers of their own--as well as introducing more substantial innovations: for every song there's a good new riff, and by now the old sci-fi/counterculture themes mean something, probably because lyricist Robert Calvert has gained wit and wisdom since the time of zonk. Irresistible: the title cut, which suggests that Einstein had trouble with girls because he didn't dig subatomic physics. B+ -- R. ChristgauSo next came — what else? — one of Hawkwind's best, most pop-oriented albums. Quark Strangeness and Charm features tuff tracks like "Hassan I Sahba" (clever mating of Hawkwind's patented drone with Middle Eastern music) and the delightfully rollicking (!) title tune. -- Trouser PressHawkwind in 1977 were a very different beast from previous incarnations. Nik Turner,Alan Powell and Paul rudolph sax,drums and bass respectively were fired by Dave Brock because of their furtive attempts to overthrow his leadership. So a stripped down version of the hawks recorded this lp,Adrian Shaw from Magic Muscle was recruited on bass and added his subtle nimble bass lines to this in my opinion the last great Hawkwind album.As with the previous lp ASTONISHING SOUNDS... Bob Calvert is lead vocalist and lyricist and has a ball.The title track is a short simple 3 chord classic with funny satirical lyrics.Opener "Spirit Of The Age" tells of an androids romantic dilemma with great trancey effects and fantastic backing vocals,what a great fuckin' song.Keyboardist/violinist Simon House was Hawkwinds secret weapon contributing his amazing talents to the 9 minute apocalyptic belter "Damnation Alley" with its great synth breakdown. His own "Forge Of Vulcan" instrumental sounds like Krautrock. "Hassan I Sabha" has Houses middle eastern violin backing Calverts Black September rants.The song is prescient of islamic terrorism,Iraqi wars and oil.Calverts lyrics and vocals have never been better,gone are the cosmic/Moorcock words of old and his witty intelligent observations compliment Brocks new wave guitars/music.You have to check oot this lp "Hawkwind go new wave" was a great idea resulting in a truly beautiful album start to finish -- kaktus, Head Heritage
So next came — what else? — one of Hawkwind's best, most pop-oriented albums. Quark Strangeness and Charm features tuff tracks like "Hassan I Sahba" (clever mating of Hawkwind's patented drone with Middle Eastern music) and the delightfully rollicking (!) title tune. -- Trouser Press
Hawkwind in 1977 were a very different beast from previous incarnations. Nik Turner,Alan Powell and Paul rudolph sax,drums and bass respectively were fired by Dave Brock because of their furtive attempts to overthrow his leadership. So a stripped down version of the hawks recorded this lp,Adrian Shaw from Magic Muscle was recruited on bass and added his subtle nimble bass lines to this in my opinion the last great Hawkwind album.
As with the previous lp ASTONISHING SOUNDS... Bob Calvert is lead vocalist and lyricist and has a ball.The title track is a short simple 3 chord classic with funny satirical lyrics.Opener "Spirit Of The Age" tells of an androids romantic dilemma with great trancey effects and fantastic backing vocals,what a great fuckin' song.
Keyboardist/violinist Simon House was Hawkwinds secret weapon contributing his amazing talents to the 9 minute apocalyptic belter "Damnation Alley" with its great synth breakdown. His own "Forge Of Vulcan" instrumental sounds like Krautrock. "Hassan I Sabha" has Houses middle eastern violin backing Calverts Black September rants.The song is prescient of islamic terrorism,Iraqi wars and oil.
Calverts lyrics and vocals have never been better,gone are the cosmic/Moorcock words of old and his witty intelligent observations compliment Brocks new wave guitars/music.
You have to check oot this lp "Hawkwind go new wave" was a great idea resulting in a truly beautiful album start to finish -- kaktus, Head Heritage
review[-] by Dave ThompsonHot on the heels of two decidedly un-Hawkwind-y singles; following in the footsteps, too, of the defiantly transitory Astounding Sounds, Amazing Music album, Quark Strangeness and Charm was the first full flowering of Hawkwind's newly honed drive towards brittle pop, sharp wit, and crystal-clear intent -- attributes that, if they'd ever existed in the past, had been entirely overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of the space rock rocket blast. Now it was the propulsive riffs and deep space echoes that were held in abeyance, and Quark opened as it meant to go on, with "Spirit of the Age"'s tight keyboards, unobtrusive washes, and the utterly captivating -- if totally skewed -- story of love across the light years. It is hard to visualise just how shocking the change must have been to loyal fans of the era; how they must have trembled before the electrifying jolt of concise lyricism and accessible melodies. Airplay followed, and the band even made their first mainstream U.K. TV appearance in some five years, performing the new album's title track on Marc Bolan's teatime TV pop show. Robert Calvert wore an aviator's helmet and carried a stuffed falcon on one hand, odd apparel indeed for an ode to Albert Einstein's lack of luck with the ladies. Or maybe not so odd, after all. A handful of songs fed back into the traditional Hawkwind mythos -- the post-apocalyptic "Damnation Alley," the near-industrial instrumental "Forge of Vulcan," and the weary, dream-is-over nostalgia of "Days of the Underground." "Hassan I Sabha," an epic of Middle Eastern terrorist rhetoric, even recalled the prosaic realities of the old favorite "Urban Guerilla," although a haunting Arabic refrain and instrumentation catapulted it to a different realm regardless. And so it went on -- Hawkwind's most unexpected album to date and, today, one of their most endearingly enduring; charming, strange, and, if not quark, then certainly quirky.
Hot on the heels of two decidedly un-Hawkwind-y singles; following in the footsteps, too, of the defiantly transitory Astounding Sounds, Amazing Music album, Quark Strangeness and Charm was the first full flowering of Hawkwind's newly honed drive towards brittle pop, sharp wit, and crystal-clear intent -- attributes that, if they'd ever existed in the past, had been entirely overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of the space rock rocket blast. Now it was the propulsive riffs and deep space echoes that were held in abeyance, and Quark opened as it meant to go on, with "Spirit of the Age"'s tight keyboards, unobtrusive washes, and the utterly captivating -- if totally skewed -- story of love across the light years. It is hard to visualise just how shocking the change must have been to loyal fans of the era; how they must have trembled before the electrifying jolt of concise lyricism and accessible melodies. Airplay followed, and the band even made their first mainstream U.K. TV appearance in some five years, performing the new album's title track on Marc Bolan's teatime TV pop show. Robert Calvert wore an aviator's helmet and carried a stuffed falcon on one hand, odd apparel indeed for an ode to Albert Einstein's lack of luck with the ladies. Or maybe not so odd, after all. A handful of songs fed back into the traditional Hawkwind mythos -- the post-apocalyptic "Damnation Alley," the near-industrial instrumental "Forge of Vulcan," and the weary, dream-is-over nostalgia of "Days of the Underground." "Hassan I Sabha," an epic of Middle Eastern terrorist rhetoric, even recalled the prosaic realities of the old favorite "Urban Guerilla," although a haunting Arabic refrain and instrumentation catapulted it to a different realm regardless. And so it went on -- Hawkwind's most unexpected album to date and, today, one of their most endearingly enduring; charming, strange, and, if not quark, then certainly quirky.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:40 (thirteen years ago)
Not actually heard this album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:42 (thirteen years ago)
Its great!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 18:45 (thirteen years ago)
That cover art is drab. This is what my version has, which matches the shiny music much better!
http://dreamchimney.com/tracks/artist_images/22274_image0_20090211_auto.jpg
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:48 (thirteen years ago)
324. PERE UBU Terminal Tower: An Archival Collection,Non-LP Singles & b-sides 1976-80 (796 Points, 6 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #5 for 1985 , #502 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/032/MI0000032900.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Side one is the long unavailable Datapanik in the Year Zero EP, itself comprising two indie singles and a compilation cut and as powerful a sequence as side one of Dub Housing nevertheless. Side two collects the kind of oddments that rarely cohere on LP, yet here the outtakes and B sides and stray singles come together as a record of David Thomas's slide or progress from willed optimism to blessed whimsy. In short, this is a gift from God--a third Ubu album from the former Crocus Behemoth's pre-God period. A- -- R. ChristgauThe first chapter in the Ubu story is neatly summarized on Terminal Tower, an annotated collection of eleven essential tracks, highlighted by the hard-to-find "Lonesome Cowboy Dave" and "Untitled" (an alternate take on "The Modern Dance"), and the British Datapanik in the Year Zero catching-up compilation...collecting five of the original Hearthan (aka Hearpen) tracks, including the dynamic, paranoiac "30 Seconds Over Tokyo" and the Seeds-gone-dada "Cloud 149." Dark, challenging material.
The first chapter in the Ubu story is neatly summarized on Terminal Tower, an annotated collection of eleven essential tracks, highlighted by the hard-to-find "Lonesome Cowboy Dave" and "Untitled" (an alternate take on "The Modern Dance"), and the British Datapanik in the Year Zero catching-up compilation...collecting five of the original Hearthan (aka Hearpen) tracks, including the dynamic, paranoiac "30 Seconds Over Tokyo" and the Seeds-gone-dada "Cloud 149." Dark, challenging material.
review[-] by Steve HueyAt the outset of their career, Pere Ubu released some of the very first independent-label American punk singles on their own Hearthan (later Hearpen) label, which constitute some of their most celebrated and legendary work. Terminal Tower: An Archival Collection gathers 11 tracks, mostly from the crucial Hearthan/Hearpen period (including the entire Datapanik in the Year Zero EP), plus a couple of later U.K. singles. This music's historical importance is undeniable -- not only because of the band's pioneeringly independent status in an area not as celebrated for its punk scene, but also because Pere Ubu was one of the first bands to push their art punk sound into territory later classified as alternative, a testament to their forward-looking approach. None of that would matter if Terminal Tower didn't hold up so well as a listening experience, but Pere Ubu still sounds utterly original. David Thomas' unearthly voice mumbles and sobs the angular melodies over a backdrop of garagey guitars, startling sound effects (from both guitar and synth), and odd dissonances. Moments of jarring, apocalyptic terror ("Heart of Darkness," the creeping, crawling "30 Seconds Over Tokyo") sit next to oddly beautiful introspection, sometimes on the same song (the aching angst and evocative guitar solo of "Final Solution"). Meanwhile, poppier tracks incorporate those avant-garde textures into a gleeful dada bounce. The two tracks unavailable anywhere else, "Not Happy" and "Lonesome Cowboy Dave," are slices of poppy dementia that may make the collection worthwhile for devotees who already own the box, especially since this is such a strong, coherent listen. Terminal Tower stands as the best introduction to the band not only because of its stellar material and relative accessibility, but also because it largely lacks the arty indulgences that popped up even on the group's most consistent albums. Now that it's back in print, it's essential, groundbreaking listening.
At the outset of their career, Pere Ubu released some of the very first independent-label American punk singles on their own Hearthan (later Hearpen) label, which constitute some of their most celebrated and legendary work. Terminal Tower: An Archival Collection gathers 11 tracks, mostly from the crucial Hearthan/Hearpen period (including the entire Datapanik in the Year Zero EP), plus a couple of later U.K. singles. This music's historical importance is undeniable -- not only because of the band's pioneeringly independent status in an area not as celebrated for its punk scene, but also because Pere Ubu was one of the first bands to push their art punk sound into territory later classified as alternative, a testament to their forward-looking approach. None of that would matter if Terminal Tower didn't hold up so well as a listening experience, but Pere Ubu still sounds utterly original. David Thomas' unearthly voice mumbles and sobs the angular melodies over a backdrop of garagey guitars, startling sound effects (from both guitar and synth), and odd dissonances. Moments of jarring, apocalyptic terror ("Heart of Darkness," the creeping, crawling "30 Seconds Over Tokyo") sit next to oddly beautiful introspection, sometimes on the same song (the aching angst and evocative guitar solo of "Final Solution"). Meanwhile, poppier tracks incorporate those avant-garde textures into a gleeful dada bounce. The two tracks unavailable anywhere else, "Not Happy" and "Lonesome Cowboy Dave," are slices of poppy dementia that may make the collection worthwhile for devotees who already own the box, especially since this is such a strong, coherent listen. Terminal Tower stands as the best introduction to the band not only because of its stellar material and relative accessibility, but also because it largely lacks the arty indulgences that popped up even on the group's most consistent albums. Now that it's back in print, it's essential, groundbreaking listening.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:50 (thirteen years ago)
Not heard this except for the ep
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 18:56 (thirteen years ago)
323. MOTT THE HOOPLE Mott (799 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #90 for 1973 , #2419 overall | Acclaimed: #563 | RS: #366http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/675/MI0001675736.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3ApRy4edE6ZYi081aFpq4s
Ian and the boys are definitely too self-referential, and they don't entirely convince me that they've earned our credence as the great failed band of the new loser mythology. But as rock and roll this is damn near irresistible, sure to stand as a textbook of killer riffs 'n' hooks. Even the throwaways are ace, except maybe for Mick Ralphs's Spanish guitar showcase. And not only has Ian's Dylan fixation become funny, but Ian knows it. A- -- R. ChristgauThe self-produced Mott proves how well they learned their lessons from the Thin White Duke: bolstered by newfound commercial confidence, Mott made an album with a warmer tone, obsessive self-awareness and a great set of songs, reconsidered with the singles chart in mind. Too smart and mature (he was already in his mid-30s) not to be ironically amused and at least a little removed from the fantasy exhilaration of success, Hunter ruminates on the story so far in the rambunctious "All the Way From Memphis" (and how horrible does the word "spade" now sound?), the grandiose but grateful "Hymn for the Dudes" and the album's monumental centerpiece, the solemn, haunting "Ballad of Mott the Hoople (March 26, 1972 – Zurich)." "Honaloochie Boogie" is a perfect formulaic glam single: killer hook, big chorus, easy singalong, vocal gimmickry, a catch phrase or three ("My hair gets longer as the beat gets stronger / Wanna tell Chuck Berry my news"). Ralphs comes up with another two-part winner, the handsome "I'm a Cadillac/El Camino Dolo Roso." The curtain finally drops with the eyebrow-raising romance of "I Wish I Was Your Mother." (The reissue adds a DOA slow demo of "Honaloochie Boogie," a dutiful B-side and two other cuts.) -- Trouser PressWhat an array of weapons this band has: awesome firepower, an ever-increasing depth of expression, timely themes and an artistic way of mixing these qualities on record. In terms of my own bias, Mott the Hoople has been the most productive band of the last three years, with only the Rolling Stones — a significant source of inspiration for Mott — in the same category. In six attempts, Mott has made four excellent albums, and the latest may be the best.The band has long had a near-obsessive interest in contemporary mythic figures such as Dylan (singer Ian Hunter's chief vocal model) and James Dean, and in contemporary mythic roles, primarily that of the rock & roll band. In terms of the latter, which dominates Mott's work, the subject matter ranges from the trivial to the universal. "Whiskey Woman," one of guitarist Mick Ralphs's earlier songs, portrays the virtuous rock star imbued with such a sense of mission that he easily squelches the temptation to be sidetracked by carnivorous young girls, while his "Rock 'n' Roll Queen" focuses more facetiously on the same subject.Ian Hunter's songs take a more metaphysical view of the same general area. Several of them from earlier albums — "The Journey," "Half Moon Bay," "Waterlow" and "Sea Diver" — are rock anthems with a double edge: They project power with a sense of anguish, intimate songs colored by a startling sense of mortality.The combination of the deeply personal and the mythic has never been more fully developed than on the new album, Mott. The album opens with "All the Way from Memphis," a general but still subjective rock & roll chronicle: "... It's a mighty long way down rock & roll/From the Liverpool docks to the Hollywood Bowl/And you climb up the mountains and you fall down the hole/All the way from Memphis...." Like the diary Hunter wrote of Mott's last tour (which will soon be published as a book), Mott's key songs, all written by Hunter and including the one above, are documents of a specific span of time and a specific state of mind. But, like the personal, detailed songs of Dylan and Davies, they expand forcefully beyond the specific. In "Hymn for the Dudes," for example, Hunter's singing of nightmarish lyrics in which a king and a rock star hover above trenches and barbed wire, quiets gradually to just above a whisper, and when Hunter describes the place of the star in the overall scheme of things — "... You ain't the nazz .../You're just a buzz .../Some kinda temporary..." — he's suddenly interrupted by a jolting boom of electric instruments. At this point, the song shoots instantly to the upper reaches of intensity, and the song's concern, the superstar, becomes a supercharged metaphor.If All the Young Dudes generated an optimism through David Bowie's wonderful title song, then that album's closer, "Sea Diver," provides a bridge to Mott, which is pervaded by the melancholy of defeat and dashed hopes. "Sea Diver" 's simply worded refrain — "... Ride on, my son, ride until you fail...." — succinctly encapsulates the story of the band, which is both literalized and mythologized here in "The Ballad of Mott the Hoople." The song unites the naive idealism of the rock & roll celebration song (e.g., "Do You Believe in Magic") with the battered voice of bitter experience. The singer knows not only that he's hooked but that he's irretrievably lost — and he wouldn't have it any other way: "... Rock & roll's a loser's game, it mesmerizes — I can't explain/The reasons for the sights and for the sounds/The greasepaint still sticks to my face/So what the hell, I can't erase/The rock & roll feeling from my mind...." As Hunter repeats the last three words, the band's dynamic level increases progressively and his straining finally turns into a hoarse scream. It's really something.The album's final song, "I Wish I Was Your Mother," eschews rock & roll metaphor (and for that matter, rock instrumentation — the sound is all mandolins and bells) to deal overtly with a love relationship. In this song more than any other save perhaps "Sea Diver," Hunter exposes his romanticism and its corollary, an awareness of inevitable tragedy. He perceives the shape of the traditional loving relationship through the muck of his world and that perception only makes him sadder when considering the future possibilities for his life together with his loved one:... It's no use me pretendingYou give, and I do the spendingIs there a happy ending? I don't think so'Cause even if we make itI'll be too far out to take itYou'll have to try to shake it from my head....I hope quoting from these lyrics in no way takes away from the music, which greatly expands the power of the words and which is as accessible as the songs are ambitious. Hunter's singing is still another primary aspect of the album. He's used Dylan and Bowie — each a dramatically offbeat emphasizer — as explicit sources of inspiration in the past; here he inflects individualistically and quite dangerously throughout, sounding like a cross between a charged-up Dylan or McGuinn and a distracted Method actor desperately auditioning for "The Glass Menagerie." Despite his daring, I don't consider Hunter's approach excessive because, consciously or intuitively, he's in control of every drawl, mince, pause and mumble.Mott the Hoople's path — from audacity and optimism, through a series of false starts, pitfalls, wrong turns and missed opportunities, to its present point of view, permeated by weariness, sadness and a frighteningly full well of irony — seems a necessary part of the band's specialness. It's now apparent that Mott the Hoople is not playing out the role it once thought it was (emerging superstars) but that of those who dream and struggle only to watch options run out — in other words, the loser. That they became aware of this crucial paradox and were able to capitalize on it aesthetically is impressive enough. That they turned what appeared to be just a highly ironic misfortune into a deeply personal, haunting, all but tragic one casts them in a singular light. Literally and symbolically, Mott sounds very much like a terminal statement.The album is so well done and so absorbing on every level, however, that Mott the Hoople may well have to deal with still another irony: success following a full acceptance of failure — a success in the very terms by which that failure has been defined. I'd welcome that irony, because I would hate to watch this very special band die. -- Bud Scoppa, RS
The self-produced Mott proves how well they learned their lessons from the Thin White Duke: bolstered by newfound commercial confidence, Mott made an album with a warmer tone, obsessive self-awareness and a great set of songs, reconsidered with the singles chart in mind. Too smart and mature (he was already in his mid-30s) not to be ironically amused and at least a little removed from the fantasy exhilaration of success, Hunter ruminates on the story so far in the rambunctious "All the Way From Memphis" (and how horrible does the word "spade" now sound?), the grandiose but grateful "Hymn for the Dudes" and the album's monumental centerpiece, the solemn, haunting "Ballad of Mott the Hoople (March 26, 1972 – Zurich)." "Honaloochie Boogie" is a perfect formulaic glam single: killer hook, big chorus, easy singalong, vocal gimmickry, a catch phrase or three ("My hair gets longer as the beat gets stronger / Wanna tell Chuck Berry my news"). Ralphs comes up with another two-part winner, the handsome "I'm a Cadillac/El Camino Dolo Roso." The curtain finally drops with the eyebrow-raising romance of "I Wish I Was Your Mother." (The reissue adds a DOA slow demo of "Honaloochie Boogie," a dutiful B-side and two other cuts.) -- Trouser Press
What an array of weapons this band has: awesome firepower, an ever-increasing depth of expression, timely themes and an artistic way of mixing these qualities on record. In terms of my own bias, Mott the Hoople has been the most productive band of the last three years, with only the Rolling Stones — a significant source of inspiration for Mott — in the same category. In six attempts, Mott has made four excellent albums, and the latest may be the best.
The band has long had a near-obsessive interest in contemporary mythic figures such as Dylan (singer Ian Hunter's chief vocal model) and James Dean, and in contemporary mythic roles, primarily that of the rock & roll band. In terms of the latter, which dominates Mott's work, the subject matter ranges from the trivial to the universal. "Whiskey Woman," one of guitarist Mick Ralphs's earlier songs, portrays the virtuous rock star imbued with such a sense of mission that he easily squelches the temptation to be sidetracked by carnivorous young girls, while his "Rock 'n' Roll Queen" focuses more facetiously on the same subject.
Ian Hunter's songs take a more metaphysical view of the same general area. Several of them from earlier albums — "The Journey," "Half Moon Bay," "Waterlow" and "Sea Diver" — are rock anthems with a double edge: They project power with a sense of anguish, intimate songs colored by a startling sense of mortality.
The combination of the deeply personal and the mythic has never been more fully developed than on the new album, Mott. The album opens with "All the Way from Memphis," a general but still subjective rock & roll chronicle: "... It's a mighty long way down rock & roll/From the Liverpool docks to the Hollywood Bowl/And you climb up the mountains and you fall down the hole/All the way from Memphis...." Like the diary Hunter wrote of Mott's last tour (which will soon be published as a book), Mott's key songs, all written by Hunter and including the one above, are documents of a specific span of time and a specific state of mind. But, like the personal, detailed songs of Dylan and Davies, they expand forcefully beyond the specific. In "Hymn for the Dudes," for example, Hunter's singing of nightmarish lyrics in which a king and a rock star hover above trenches and barbed wire, quiets gradually to just above a whisper, and when Hunter describes the place of the star in the overall scheme of things — "... You ain't the nazz .../You're just a buzz .../Some kinda temporary..." — he's suddenly interrupted by a jolting boom of electric instruments. At this point, the song shoots instantly to the upper reaches of intensity, and the song's concern, the superstar, becomes a supercharged metaphor.
If All the Young Dudes generated an optimism through David Bowie's wonderful title song, then that album's closer, "Sea Diver," provides a bridge to Mott, which is pervaded by the melancholy of defeat and dashed hopes. "Sea Diver" 's simply worded refrain — "... Ride on, my son, ride until you fail...." — succinctly encapsulates the story of the band, which is both literalized and mythologized here in "The Ballad of Mott the Hoople." The song unites the naive idealism of the rock & roll celebration song (e.g., "Do You Believe in Magic") with the battered voice of bitter experience. The singer knows not only that he's hooked but that he's irretrievably lost — and he wouldn't have it any other way: "... Rock & roll's a loser's game, it mesmerizes — I can't explain/The reasons for the sights and for the sounds/The greasepaint still sticks to my face/So what the hell, I can't erase/The rock & roll feeling from my mind...." As Hunter repeats the last three words, the band's dynamic level increases progressively and his straining finally turns into a hoarse scream. It's really something.The album's final song, "I Wish I Was Your Mother," eschews rock & roll metaphor (and for that matter, rock instrumentation — the sound is all mandolins and bells) to deal overtly with a love relationship. In this song more than any other save perhaps "Sea Diver," Hunter exposes his romanticism and its corollary, an awareness of inevitable tragedy. He perceives the shape of the traditional loving relationship through the muck of his world and that perception only makes him sadder when considering the future possibilities for his life together with his loved one:
... It's no use me pretendingYou give, and I do the spendingIs there a happy ending? I don't think so'Cause even if we make itI'll be too far out to take itYou'll have to try to shake it from my head....
I hope quoting from these lyrics in no way takes away from the music, which greatly expands the power of the words and which is as accessible as the songs are ambitious. Hunter's singing is still another primary aspect of the album. He's used Dylan and Bowie — each a dramatically offbeat emphasizer — as explicit sources of inspiration in the past; here he inflects individualistically and quite dangerously throughout, sounding like a cross between a charged-up Dylan or McGuinn and a distracted Method actor desperately auditioning for "The Glass Menagerie." Despite his daring, I don't consider Hunter's approach excessive because, consciously or intuitively, he's in control of every drawl, mince, pause and mumble.
Mott the Hoople's path — from audacity and optimism, through a series of false starts, pitfalls, wrong turns and missed opportunities, to its present point of view, permeated by weariness, sadness and a frighteningly full well of irony — seems a necessary part of the band's specialness. It's now apparent that Mott the Hoople is not playing out the role it once thought it was (emerging superstars) but that of those who dream and struggle only to watch options run out — in other words, the loser. That they became aware of this crucial paradox and were able to capitalize on it aesthetically is impressive enough. That they turned what appeared to be just a highly ironic misfortune into a deeply personal, haunting, all but tragic one casts them in a singular light. Literally and symbolically, Mott sounds very much like a terminal statement.
The album is so well done and so absorbing on every level, however, that Mott the Hoople may well have to deal with still another irony: success following a full acceptance of failure — a success in the very terms by which that failure has been defined. I'd welcome that irony, because I would hate to watch this very special band die. -- Bud Scoppa, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineAll the Young Dudes actually brought Mott the Hoople success, but you wouldn't know that from its sequel, Mott. Ian Hunter's songs are a set of road tales fraught with exhaustion, disillusionment, and dashed dreams, all told with a wry sense of humor so evident on Mott's earlier work. This is no ordinary road album where a band whines about the perils of traveling -- it's more of a wry commentary on rock & roll itself, which, as Hunter notes, is a "loser's game." Mott doesn't sound that way, though -- it's as winning and infectious as rock & roll gets. Even with the undercurrents of ironic despair and restrained hostility, this is a fun record (partially because of that despair and hostility, of course). This sounds better, looser, than All the Young Dudes, as the band jives through "All the Way from Memphis" and "Honaloochie Boogie," beats the living hell outta "Violence," swaggers on "Whizz Kid," and simply drives it home on "Drivin' Sister." Apart from the New York Dolls (who, after all, were in a league of their own), glam never sounds as rock as it does here. To top it all off, Hunter writes the best lament for rock ever with "Ballad of Mott the Hoople," a song that conveys just how heartbreaking rock & roll is for the average band. If that wasn't enough, he trumps that song with the closer "I Wish I Was Your Mother," a peerless breakup song that still surprises, even after it's familiar. It's a graceful, unexpected way to close a record that stands as one of the best of its era.
All the Young Dudes actually brought Mott the Hoople success, but you wouldn't know that from its sequel, Mott. Ian Hunter's songs are a set of road tales fraught with exhaustion, disillusionment, and dashed dreams, all told with a wry sense of humor so evident on Mott's earlier work. This is no ordinary road album where a band whines about the perils of traveling -- it's more of a wry commentary on rock & roll itself, which, as Hunter notes, is a "loser's game." Mott doesn't sound that way, though -- it's as winning and infectious as rock & roll gets. Even with the undercurrents of ironic despair and restrained hostility, this is a fun record (partially because of that despair and hostility, of course). This sounds better, looser, than All the Young Dudes, as the band jives through "All the Way from Memphis" and "Honaloochie Boogie," beats the living hell outta "Violence," swaggers on "Whizz Kid," and simply drives it home on "Drivin' Sister." Apart from the New York Dolls (who, after all, were in a league of their own), glam never sounds as rock as it does here. To top it all off, Hunter writes the best lament for rock ever with "Ballad of Mott the Hoople," a song that conveys just how heartbreaking rock & roll is for the average band. If that wasn't enough, he trumps that song with the closer "I Wish I Was Your Mother," a peerless breakup song that still surprises, even after it's familiar. It's a graceful, unexpected way to close a record that stands as one of the best of its era.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:00 (thirteen years ago)
Somebody earlier hoped for this album. Cant help thinking if these albums had been campaigned for they would have got a lot more points.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:01 (thirteen years ago)
322. RUSH A Farewell to Kings (801 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #28 for 1977 , #912 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/517/MI0002517781.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/35znJ85M6W0wq0YwkMrMxG
The most obnoxious band currently making a killing on the zonked teen circuit. Not to be confused with Mahogany Rush, who at least spare us the reactionary gentility. More like Angel. Or Kansas. Or a power-trio Uriah Heep, with vocals revved up an octave. Or two. D -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Greg PratoOn 1977's A Farewell to Kings it quickly becomes apparent that Rush had improved their songwriting and strengthened their focus and musical approach. Synthesizers also mark their first prominent appearance on a Rush album, a direction the band would continue to pursue on future releases. With the popular hit single "Closer to the Heart," the trio showed that they could compose concise and traditionally structured songs, while the 11-minute "Xanadu" remains an outstanding accomplishment all these years later (superb musicianship merged with vivid lyrics help create one of Rush's best all-time tracks). The album-opening title track begins with a tasty classical guitar/synth passage, before erupting into a powerful rocker. The underrated "Madrigal" proves to be a delicately beautiful composition, while "Cinderella Man" is one of Rush's few songs to include lyrics penned entirely by Geddy Lee. The ten-minute tale of a dangerous black hole, "Cygnus X-1," closes the album on an unpredictable note, slightly comparable to the two bizarre extended songs on 1975's Caress of Steel. A Farewell to Kings successfully built on the promise of their breakthrough 2112, and helped broaden their audience.
On 1977's A Farewell to Kings it quickly becomes apparent that Rush had improved their songwriting and strengthened their focus and musical approach. Synthesizers also mark their first prominent appearance on a Rush album, a direction the band would continue to pursue on future releases. With the popular hit single "Closer to the Heart," the trio showed that they could compose concise and traditionally structured songs, while the 11-minute "Xanadu" remains an outstanding accomplishment all these years later (superb musicianship merged with vivid lyrics help create one of Rush's best all-time tracks). The album-opening title track begins with a tasty classical guitar/synth passage, before erupting into a powerful rocker. The underrated "Madrigal" proves to be a delicately beautiful composition, while "Cinderella Man" is one of Rush's few songs to include lyrics penned entirely by Geddy Lee. The ten-minute tale of a dangerous black hole, "Cygnus X-1," closes the album on an unpredictable note, slightly comparable to the two bizarre extended songs on 1975's Caress of Steel. A Farewell to Kings successfully built on the promise of their breakthrough 2112, and helped broaden their audience.
Christgau finally OTM for once!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:10 (thirteen years ago)
lol. I love this album.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 19:12 (thirteen years ago)
Is it cuz they're the polar opposite of funky? :) I like it!
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:18 (thirteen years ago)
Generally, most women I know reserve a special kind of hatred for Rush in their hearts. Any exceptions here?
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:19 (thirteen years ago)
321. ROXY MUSIC Country Life (807 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #45 for 1974 , #1627 overall | Acclaimed: #1002http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/932/MI0002932912.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/59RclwjkzMJTJZNxrfGdLC
The Teutoni-textures of this music are proof negative of Bryan Ferry's deep-seated romanticism. But what happens when romanticism goes sour? And what is Phil Manzanera doing on that Nico record that closes with her version of "Deutschland Uber Alles"? Oh well, I've always said good rock has to be dangerous. But when did I say it could be slow? B+ -- R. ChristgauRoxy's best LP, Country Life, ran into trouble over its revealing cover photo — some American copies were shrink-wrapped in opaque green plastic; later the artwork was changed to remove the bra'n'panties-clad models and leave only the foliage. Regardless, the ten tracks — a smooth integration of the band's divergent stylistic designs — are exemplary and of consistent strength, making it a virtual greatest-hits album of new material. Highlights: "All I Want Is You," "Out of the Blue," "The Thrill of It All," "A Really Good Time," "Three and Nine," "Prairie Rose." -- Trouser Press
Roxy's best LP, Country Life, ran into trouble over its revealing cover photo — some American copies were shrink-wrapped in opaque green plastic; later the artwork was changed to remove the bra'n'panties-clad models and leave only the foliage. Regardless, the ten tracks — a smooth integration of the band's divergent stylistic designs — are exemplary and of consistent strength, making it a virtual greatest-hits album of new material. Highlights: "All I Want Is You," "Out of the Blue," "The Thrill of It All," "A Really Good Time," "Three and Nine," "Prairie Rose." -- Trouser Press
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineContinuing with the stylistic developments of Stranded, Country Life finds Roxy Music at the peak of their powers, alternating between majestic, unsettling art rock and glamorous, elegant pop/rock. At their best, Roxy combine these two extremes, like on the exhilarating opener "The Thrill of It All," but Country Life benefits considerably from the ebb and flow of the group's two extremes, since it showcases their deft instrumental execution and their textured, enthralling songwriting. And, in many ways, Country Life offers the greatest and most consistent set of Roxy Music songs, illustrating their startling depth. From the sleek rock of "All I Want Is You" and "Prairie Rose" to the elegant, string-laced pop of "A Really Good Time," Country Life is filled with thrilling songs, and Roxy Music rarely sounded as invigorating as they do here.
Continuing with the stylistic developments of Stranded, Country Life finds Roxy Music at the peak of their powers, alternating between majestic, unsettling art rock and glamorous, elegant pop/rock. At their best, Roxy combine these two extremes, like on the exhilarating opener "The Thrill of It All," but Country Life benefits considerably from the ebb and flow of the group's two extremes, since it showcases their deft instrumental execution and their textured, enthralling songwriting. And, in many ways, Country Life offers the greatest and most consistent set of Roxy Music songs, illustrating their startling depth. From the sleek rock of "All I Want Is You" and "Prairie Rose" to the elegant, string-laced pop of "A Really Good Time," Country Life is filled with thrilling songs, and Roxy Music rarely sounded as invigorating as they do here.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:20 (thirteen years ago)
I know plenty of girls who like Rush. Or at least, a couple.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 18 March 2013 19:22 (thirteen years ago)
LIKE ME
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 19:39 (thirteen years ago)
320. BOOTSY'S RUBBER BAND Stretchin' Out In Bootsy's Rubber Band (808 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #172 for 1976http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/041/MI0002041134.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6qv13JLBobnFATUSxqsyVU
This clone of Dr. Funkenstein isn't as stoopid as he pretends to be, but he does have identity problems. Why else would he announce that "he's just another point of view," or invite us to "vanish in our sleep"? Good songs, good textures, good riffs--all ultimately undefined. B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Lindsay PlanerWilliam "Bootsy" Collins' (bass/vocals/guitar/percussion) short but highly influential tenure with James Brown in the '70s proved to have a lasting impact -- not only on the artist, but anyone who heard the audacious funk that Bootsy, his brother Phelps "Catfish" Collins (guitar), and Frankie "Kash" Waddy (drums) brought to Brown's self-proclaimed "New Breed Band" -- who were soon rechristened the J.B.'s. After growing weary of the unstable monetary circumstances that seemed to surround the Godfather of Soul, the primary constituents of the J.B.'s quit. Not too much time had passed when Parliament/Funkadelic mastermind George Clinton incorporated the whole lot into his perpetually growing P-Funk family. Ever the entrepreneur, Clinton had the foresight, marketing genius, and available talent to utilize various members of the P-Funk posse in numerous side projects, the most successful of which was headed up by Bootsy and thus dubbed Bootsy's Rubber Band. Granted, at the time of their debut, Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band (1976), the combo consisted of a hard-working and harder-funkin' bunch of virtually unknown instrumentalists. Their status would quickly change as the Rubber Band are -- by modern standards -- nothing short of an ensemble of A-list P-Funk all-stars featuring Gary "Mudbone" Cooper (vocals), Robert "P-Nut" Johnson (vocals), Phelps "Catfish" Collins (guitar), Gary Shider (guitar), Michael Hampton (guitar), Frankie "Kash" Waddy (drums), Mudbone Cooper (drums), Bernie Worrell (keyboards), and other former James Brown bandmates Maceo Parker (sax) and Fred Wesley (trombone). When you tie the whole thing up with none other than George Clinton as producer, the remarkable potential of Bootsy's Rubber Band soon becomes clear. As early as this initial offering, Collins' output served up one side of upbeat numbers perfect for getting jiggy. Then the mood of the music begins to turn incrementally more intimate, so that by the conclusion of the second side, if circumstances warranted, you could end up with an appropriately sexy ballad as a sonic night cap of sorts. That certainly is the case on Stretchin' Out as the title track is thrust forward "on the one" by Collins' pulsating bass. Listeners are also introduced to the various inhabitants of the Rubber Band, such as Bootsy's "Casper" character -- who alternates between being the "holy" and the "funky" ghost. The concept of P-Funk babies [read: think Muppet Babies concept applied to the world of the P-Funk mob] comes to life on the bouncy "Psychoticbumpschool" before getting mellow with Leslyn Bailey (vocals) lending her voice to the down and funky "Love Vibes" and the slinky soulful "Physical Love." Hardcore Funkadelic fans should ready themselves for some stunningly tasteful fretwork from an uncredited Eddie Hazel on the languid closer "Vanish in Our Sleep" and the previously mentioned "Physical Love." Kudos go to audio engineer Bob Fisher, whose work on Collectors' Choice Music's 2007 CD reissue easily bests the sound on the comparatively pricey import version.
William "Bootsy" Collins' (bass/vocals/guitar/percussion) short but highly influential tenure with James Brown in the '70s proved to have a lasting impact -- not only on the artist, but anyone who heard the audacious funk that Bootsy, his brother Phelps "Catfish" Collins (guitar), and Frankie "Kash" Waddy (drums) brought to Brown's self-proclaimed "New Breed Band" -- who were soon rechristened the J.B.'s. After growing weary of the unstable monetary circumstances that seemed to surround the Godfather of Soul, the primary constituents of the J.B.'s quit. Not too much time had passed when Parliament/Funkadelic mastermind George Clinton incorporated the whole lot into his perpetually growing P-Funk family. Ever the entrepreneur, Clinton had the foresight, marketing genius, and available talent to utilize various members of the P-Funk posse in numerous side projects, the most successful of which was headed up by Bootsy and thus dubbed Bootsy's Rubber Band. Granted, at the time of their debut, Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band (1976), the combo consisted of a hard-working and harder-funkin' bunch of virtually unknown instrumentalists. Their status would quickly change as the Rubber Band are -- by modern standards -- nothing short of an ensemble of A-list P-Funk all-stars featuring Gary "Mudbone" Cooper (vocals), Robert "P-Nut" Johnson (vocals), Phelps "Catfish" Collins (guitar), Gary Shider (guitar), Michael Hampton (guitar), Frankie "Kash" Waddy (drums), Mudbone Cooper (drums), Bernie Worrell (keyboards), and other former James Brown bandmates Maceo Parker (sax) and Fred Wesley (trombone). When you tie the whole thing up with none other than George Clinton as producer, the remarkable potential of Bootsy's Rubber Band soon becomes clear. As early as this initial offering, Collins' output served up one side of upbeat numbers perfect for getting jiggy. Then the mood of the music begins to turn incrementally more intimate, so that by the conclusion of the second side, if circumstances warranted, you could end up with an appropriately sexy ballad as a sonic night cap of sorts. That certainly is the case on Stretchin' Out as the title track is thrust forward "on the one" by Collins' pulsating bass. Listeners are also introduced to the various inhabitants of the Rubber Band, such as Bootsy's "Casper" character -- who alternates between being the "holy" and the "funky" ghost. The concept of P-Funk babies [read: think Muppet Babies concept applied to the world of the P-Funk mob] comes to life on the bouncy "Psychoticbumpschool" before getting mellow with Leslyn Bailey (vocals) lending her voice to the down and funky "Love Vibes" and the slinky soulful "Physical Love." Hardcore Funkadelic fans should ready themselves for some stunningly tasteful fretwork from an uncredited Eddie Hazel on the languid closer "Vanish in Our Sleep" and the previously mentioned "Physical Love." Kudos go to audio engineer Bob Fisher, whose work on Collectors' Choice Music's 2007 CD reissue easily bests the sound on the comparatively pricey import version.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:40 (thirteen years ago)
I love Rush! not all albums -- mainly 2112, Hemisphere, Moving Pictures and Permanent Waves are my main go-tos. But to be fair it did take me a while to really 'get it'
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 19:40 (thirteen years ago)
Everyone would be better off listening to Bootsy
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:44 (thirteen years ago)
and Rush.
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 19:45 (thirteen years ago)
that Bootsy album is great fun, it was on my ballot. Xgau notm as per
― Neil S, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:47 (thirteen years ago)
I'm listening to mx-80 sound now for the first time and this guy sounds so much like zappa. not what I was expecting at all.
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:47 (thirteen years ago)
319. PARLIAMENT Up For The Down Stroke (810 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #208 for 1974http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/034/MI0000034549.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0IRk4Z8Tb7VCHFBXBQ96I4
What seems to distinguish this mysterious alternate version of Funkadelic (same personnel, different label) from the original is that it's more politic. Its excesses don't offend. Gone is all the scabrous talk of holes and bitches, and gone too are the politics themselves--the nearest this comes to social criticism is to praise the brain. But what's left is damn near a (musical) revolution. The material George Clinton has amassed over the years--the harmony-group vocal chops, the Jimi H. guitar, the James B. horns and rhythms--is here deployed in yet another audacious deconstruction/reconstruction of black pop traditions, and this time it works. All of the voice arrangements skew the original "I Wanna Testify" (which is reinterpreted for comparison) the way those of Big Star do, say, "Run for Your Life." The horns and guitars weave and comment and come front. And the title cut kicks and jams. One more riff like that and they'd take over the world. A- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Ned RaggettKicking off with one of prime funk's purest distillations -- the outrageously great title track, with a perfect party chorus line and uncredited horns (presumably the Horny Horns were involved somehow) adding to the monster beat and bass -- Up for the Down Stroke finds Parliament in rude good health. As was more or less the case through the '70s, Parliament took a slightly more listener-friendly turn here than they did as Funkadelic, but often it's a difference by degrees. Just listening to some of Bernie Worrell's insane keyboard parts or Bootsy Collins' bass work here is enough to wake the dead. As always, Worrell in particular can suddenly surprise with his delicacy -- the soft, understated flow of "I Just Got Back" may have lyrics that could be sung by Jon Anderson, at least at points, but the piano lines have subtle, dreamy grace, the antithesis of Rick Wakeman's masturbations. For that matter, Peter Chase's whistles are downright delightful, goofy, and sweet all at once. Slightly more oddball is "All Your Goodies Are Gone," which has a bit more upfront bite and some downright strange lyrics, delivered with a stoned, breathless tone and backed by unearthly choir arrangements. Eddie Hazel is still listed as present and contributing, though unfortunately not for long after, with Ron Bykowski, Gary Shider, and William Nelson also chipping in as needed. Hazel co-writes two of the songs; it's a pity "The Goose" runs out of steam toward the midpoint of its nine minutes, but it makes for pleasant background music if not Parliament at its unfettered best. In the meantime, Clinton and various familiar voices like Fuzzy Haskins and Grady Thomas keep the weird wigginess of the lyrics flowing. In a nod to the group's past, "(I Wanna) Testify," here simply called "Testify," gets a 1974-era work over.
Kicking off with one of prime funk's purest distillations -- the outrageously great title track, with a perfect party chorus line and uncredited horns (presumably the Horny Horns were involved somehow) adding to the monster beat and bass -- Up for the Down Stroke finds Parliament in rude good health. As was more or less the case through the '70s, Parliament took a slightly more listener-friendly turn here than they did as Funkadelic, but often it's a difference by degrees. Just listening to some of Bernie Worrell's insane keyboard parts or Bootsy Collins' bass work here is enough to wake the dead. As always, Worrell in particular can suddenly surprise with his delicacy -- the soft, understated flow of "I Just Got Back" may have lyrics that could be sung by Jon Anderson, at least at points, but the piano lines have subtle, dreamy grace, the antithesis of Rick Wakeman's masturbations. For that matter, Peter Chase's whistles are downright delightful, goofy, and sweet all at once. Slightly more oddball is "All Your Goodies Are Gone," which has a bit more upfront bite and some downright strange lyrics, delivered with a stoned, breathless tone and backed by unearthly choir arrangements. Eddie Hazel is still listed as present and contributing, though unfortunately not for long after, with Ron Bykowski, Gary Shider, and William Nelson also chipping in as needed. Hazel co-writes two of the songs; it's a pity "The Goose" runs out of steam toward the midpoint of its nine minutes, but it makes for pleasant background music if not Parliament at its unfettered best. In the meantime, Clinton and various familiar voices like Fuzzy Haskins and Grady Thomas keep the weird wigginess of the lyrics flowing. In a nod to the group's past, "(I Wanna) Testify," here simply called "Testify," gets a 1974-era work over.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:50 (thirteen years ago)
He finally likes something!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 19:57 (thirteen years ago)
The Parliament albums that came after were better but this is still a very good album.
http://people.duke.edu/~tmc/motherpage/albums_parliament/alb-dnstroke.html
Personnel:Bass: Cordell Mosson, Bootsy CollinsGuitars: Eddie Hazel, Ron Bykowski, Gary Shider, Billy NelsonDrums: Gary Bronson, Tiki Fulwood, Man in the BoxKeyboards: Bernie WorrellWhistles: Peter ChaseVocals: George Clinton, Calvin Simon, Ray Davis, Grady Thomas, Fuzzy Haskins, Garry Shider, Eddie Hazel "Up For The Down Stroke"Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Fuzzy Haskins, Eddie Hazel "Testify"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "The Goose"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "I Can Move You"Lead Vocals: Garry Shider "I Just Got Back"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "All Your Goodies Are Gone"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "Presence Of A Brain"Lead Vocal: Eddie HazelRating: GZ *** RC ***1/2 MM ***Comments:GZ: Highlights include title track, "Have You Ever Felt the Presence of A Brain".TK: The single "Testify" is different from the one on the album. It's a group vocal rather than a single vocal.RC: The return of Parliament had been plotted to give the five Parliament singers (plus newcomer Garry Shider) a wider format for their vocals, returning them to their roots. Also, it was designed as more radio-friendly, with an emphasis on melody, muting of guitars, and a pronounced horn section. No radio station would touch Funkadelic's records, so the hope was to make some money as Parliament. Many of their 60's singles were reworked, ("Testify", "The Goose", "All Your Goodies Are Gone"), but in the more popular, funky style of the day. Of course, what's "commercial" to the Funk Mob, especially at that time, was still downright alien to the rest of the world. Their 60's tunes weren't exactly normal at the time, and filtered through the Funkadelic lens, they got even weirder on this album. And their newer tunes involved being in outer space, down strokin', and mind control. The end result was an album that wasn't as weird as Osmium, but that was still fairly eclectic and odd. Bootsy Collins climbed on at this point, helping to add to the groove, but the Holy Trinity of Worrell, Clinton and Collins hadn't completely hit their stride yet. Still, the album features a number of tunes that are either engaging or interesting or both.The album starts off with their first big hit since "(I Wanna) Testify", "Up For The Down Stroke." This is the melodic dance chant that would lay down the ground for the many others that would follow. It features nice vocals and a dominant, but not overwhelming, horn riff. Horns often supplanted guitars on Parliament records as the driving instruments. The reworked "Testify" is a work of genius, with classic Parliament lead-vocal swapping and an irrestible keyboard line played by Bernie, whose influence was even stronger on Parliament's albums than it was on Funkadelic's. With the guitar in the background, his keyboard sound was often the dominant presence on many songs. And when his playing extended into a jazzier realm on later albums, he took Parliament far past the point of the average funk band. "The Goose" is another warped remake, featuring an addictive bassline and weird sound effects. After the song has run out of verses, the song continues in an extended jam, with distorted vocal improvisations matching the odd keyboard effects. "I Can Move You" features a standout performance by Bernie and some interesting rhythms. Garry sings lead here. "I Just Got Back" is by far the strangest track, featuring the most conventional sounding music on the album, but the spaciest lyrics, sung by George, about a far-away paradise. Also features some melodic whistling. This song almost reminds me of "The Song Is Familiar" from Let's Take It To The Stage in terms of feel and lyrical content. "All Your Goodies Are Gone" is a great example of sleaze-funk, with an amazing performance by George, drawing out his lines with a malevolent sneer that shows his complete contempt for the girl. The song is also driven by a great bassline. "Whatever Makes Baby Feel Good" features great singing and a nice performance by Bernie, but the real highlight is a brilliant guitar solo, one of the few you will find on a Parliament album. I'm pretty sure that it's Eddie Hazel doing the honors. This song certainly wouldn't sound out of place on the Funkadelic albums of that era. The last song, "Presence Of A Brain", is a rather strange tale of a deep thinker, which you can tell by 'the far away look in his eyes.' It's interesting for its rhythms, which are almost Spanish-sounding, and some doo-wopping towards the end.All in all, it's definitely worthwhile, but not groundbreaking.MM: "All Your Goodies Are Gone" has a nice driving piano and beat. "The Goose" and the title track are strong too. A P-Funk alternative but not characteristic P-Funk.MT: To anyone who's still picking up the major Parliament/Funkadelic works - save this one for one of the last. You'll appreciate it much more and see where it fits in - once you have heard the complete P-Funk discography as a whole.
Bass: Cordell Mosson, Bootsy CollinsGuitars: Eddie Hazel, Ron Bykowski, Gary Shider, Billy NelsonDrums: Gary Bronson, Tiki Fulwood, Man in the BoxKeyboards: Bernie WorrellWhistles: Peter ChaseVocals: George Clinton, Calvin Simon, Ray Davis, Grady Thomas, Fuzzy Haskins, Garry Shider, Eddie Hazel
"Up For The Down Stroke"Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Fuzzy Haskins, Eddie Hazel
"Testify"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"The Goose"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"I Can Move You"Lead Vocals: Garry Shider
"I Just Got Back"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"All Your Goodies Are Gone"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"Presence Of A Brain"Lead Vocal: Eddie Hazel
Rating: GZ *** RC ***1/2 MM ***
Comments:
GZ: Highlights include title track, "Have You Ever Felt the Presence of A Brain".
TK: The single "Testify" is different from the one on the album. It's a group vocal rather than a single vocal.
RC: The return of Parliament had been plotted to give the five Parliament singers (plus newcomer Garry Shider) a wider format for their vocals, returning them to their roots. Also, it was designed as more radio-friendly, with an emphasis on melody, muting of guitars, and a pronounced horn section. No radio station would touch Funkadelic's records, so the hope was to make some money as Parliament. Many of their 60's singles were reworked, ("Testify", "The Goose", "All Your Goodies Are Gone"), but in the more popular, funky style of the day. Of course, what's "commercial" to the Funk Mob, especially at that time, was still downright alien to the rest of the world. Their 60's tunes weren't exactly normal at the time, and filtered through the Funkadelic lens, they got even weirder on this album. And their newer tunes involved being in outer space, down strokin', and mind control. The end result was an album that wasn't as weird as Osmium, but that was still fairly eclectic and odd. Bootsy Collins climbed on at this point, helping to add to the groove, but the Holy Trinity of Worrell, Clinton and Collins hadn't completely hit their stride yet. Still, the album features a number of tunes that are either engaging or interesting or both.
The album starts off with their first big hit since "(I Wanna) Testify", "Up For The Down Stroke." This is the melodic dance chant that would lay down the ground for the many others that would follow. It features nice vocals and a dominant, but not overwhelming, horn riff. Horns often supplanted guitars on Parliament records as the driving instruments. The reworked "Testify" is a work of genius, with classic Parliament lead-vocal swapping and an irrestible keyboard line played by Bernie, whose influence was even stronger on Parliament's albums than it was on Funkadelic's. With the guitar in the background, his keyboard sound was often the dominant presence on many songs. And when his playing extended into a jazzier realm on later albums, he took Parliament far past the point of the average funk band. "The Goose" is another warped remake, featuring an addictive bassline and weird sound effects. After the song has run out of verses, the song continues in an extended jam, with distorted vocal improvisations matching the odd keyboard effects. "I Can Move You" features a standout performance by Bernie and some interesting rhythms. Garry sings lead here. "I Just Got Back" is by far the strangest track, featuring the most conventional sounding music on the album, but the spaciest lyrics, sung by George, about a far-away paradise. Also features some melodic whistling. This song almost reminds me of "The Song Is Familiar" from Let's Take It To The Stage in terms of feel and lyrical content. "All Your Goodies Are Gone" is a great example of sleaze-funk, with an amazing performance by George, drawing out his lines with a malevolent sneer that shows his complete contempt for the girl. The song is also driven by a great bassline. "Whatever Makes Baby Feel Good" features great singing and a nice performance by Bernie, but the real highlight is a brilliant guitar solo, one of the few you will find on a Parliament album. I'm pretty sure that it's Eddie Hazel doing the honors. This song certainly wouldn't sound out of place on the Funkadelic albums of that era. The last song, "Presence Of A Brain", is a rather strange tale of a deep thinker, which you can tell by 'the far away look in his eyes.' It's interesting for its rhythms, which are almost Spanish-sounding, and some doo-wopping towards the end.
All in all, it's definitely worthwhile, but not groundbreaking.
MM: "All Your Goodies Are Gone" has a nice driving piano and beat. "The Goose" and the title track are strong too. A P-Funk alternative but not characteristic P-Funk.
MT: To anyone who's still picking up the major Parliament/Funkadelic works - save this one for one of the last. You'll appreciate it much more and see where it fits in - once you have heard the complete P-Funk discography as a whole.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:01 (thirteen years ago)
318. BE BOP DELUXE Sunburst Finish (811 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #254 for 1976http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/786/MI0000786294.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2ZGtKYoRpIebDdbnAVkpf5
Genres in the seventies were paper-thin walls. Axe hero Bill Nelson tightened his songwriting skills squeezed into spandex trousers and made a passable stab at being a Glam rocker; Be Bop Deluxe even had a hit with "Hips in the Night." The arrangements are still ornate, weird and choppy (Proggy, in short), but seductive nevertheless. There's something about Sunburst Finish that, like the drek celebrated on the foundObjects blog smacks of the tawdry and crap, "brickies in lippy" as my colleague Kek-W refers to this alternately grotesque and charming stuff. Definitely recommended. -- WoebotGuitar virtuoso Bill Nelson could deftly navigate between glam, pop, prog and metal, sometimes within the same song. He could do everything but write a hit, until the gorgeous “Ships In The Night,” from his band’s third album. He followed it up with two more solid albums of futuristic glammy prog pop, but was unfortunately unable to repeat the success of Sunburst Finish. The band broke up, and Nelson pursued a more experimental avant garde direction in his solo career. -- Fastnbulbous
Guitar virtuoso Bill Nelson could deftly navigate between glam, pop, prog and metal, sometimes within the same song. He could do everything but write a hit, until the gorgeous “Ships In The Night,” from his band’s third album. He followed it up with two more solid albums of futuristic glammy prog pop, but was unfortunately unable to repeat the success of Sunburst Finish. The band broke up, and Nelson pursued a more experimental avant garde direction in his solo career. -- Fastnbulbous
reviewby William RuhlmannAdding keyboard player Andrew Clark to make Be Bop Deluxe a quartet, Bill Nelson finally found a balance between his virtuosic guitar playing and the demands of pop songwriting. The arrangements were still busy, but the humor of Nelson's music was on display as never before, and the songs frequently were catchy. For the first time, it began to seem that the group had a future beyond serving as a foundation for Nelson's splashy guitar work, as Be Bop Deluxe charted in the U.S. and the U.K. and even scored a Top 25 British hit with "Ships in the Night."
Adding keyboard player Andrew Clark to make Be Bop Deluxe a quartet, Bill Nelson finally found a balance between his virtuosic guitar playing and the demands of pop songwriting. The arrangements were still busy, but the humor of Nelson's music was on display as never before, and the songs frequently were catchy. For the first time, it began to seem that the group had a future beyond serving as a foundation for Nelson's splashy guitar work, as Be Bop Deluxe charted in the U.S. and the U.K. and even scored a Top 25 British hit with "Ships in the Night."
Another guitar virtuoso who got into electronic and experimental music not long after this
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:06 (thirteen years ago)
imago needs check them out
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:07 (thirteen years ago)
317. THE DICTATORS Go Girl Crazy! (818 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #253 for 1975 | Acclaimed: #1932http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/588/MI0001588099.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/39ZIit32CoCg83Hl0bJwgN
If you love the Dolls you'll like the Dictators. Maybe. New York smart-asses who have fastened on circa-1965 California teendom at its dumbest, they play punks rather than embodying punkdom, with a predictable loss of tone. But the production is three chords of pure power and the jokes are often good ones. Anyone can can make a sobersides like me laugh at a song called "Back to Africa" can't be entirely devoid of subtlety, and I love this bit of Inspirational Verse: "We knocked 'em dead in Dallas/We didn't pay out dues/We knocked 'em dead in Dallas/They didn't know we were Jews." B+ -- R. ChristgauThe Dictators began as a quartet: Teenage Wasteland Gazette publisher Adny Shernoff (vocals/bass), monster guitarist Ross the Boss, Scott "Top Ten" Kempner (rhythm guitar) and (following several other stool-sitters) Stu Boy King (drums). Legendary Bronx party boy Handsome Dick Manitoba (Richard Blum), who had joined his pals' band as their roadie, was photographed in wrestling regalia for the cover of their first LP, guested on some of the tracks and was listed in the credits as "secret weapon." (It was only a matter of time before he would assume his rightful position as the band's lead singer.) Produced by the Sandy Pearlman/Murray Krugman team responsible for the Blue Õyster Cult, The Dictators Go Girl Crazy! is a wickedly funny, brilliantly played and hopelessly naïve masterpiece of self-indulgent smartass rock'n'roll, pre-indie-rock proof that regular kids could make the major-label record (as if there were an alternative at the time) they always imagined. The album has covers ("I Got You Babe," "California Sun") that unravel history, hubris ("The Next Big Thing"), cherce Shernoff songs about the "Weekend" and "Teengenerate" life, Manitoba's first signature song ("Two Tub Man") and even an original surf-rock gem, "(I Live for) Cars and Girls." The Rosetta Stone of punk pop and an absolute classic released years before a company like Epic could even begin to imagine how to convince anyone to buy it. -- Trouser PressFrom 1975 Go Girl Crazy is unbelievably far ahead of its time, and at the same time queerly traditional. This is where The Ramones got their ideas. Not some of their ideas mind, all of them. As young fans Joey and Dee Dee practically stood in the crowd taking notes. The bubblegum covers ("I Got You Babe"), the moronic pride ("Teengenerate"), the questionable taste ("Master Race") -- right down to the three-chord thunder. Like Blue Oyster Cult, The Dictators were a Richard Meltzer-endorsed unit, and one of the primal "Lumpen" intellectual gestures in music. Sadly forgotten. -- Woebot
The Dictators began as a quartet: Teenage Wasteland Gazette publisher Adny Shernoff (vocals/bass), monster guitarist Ross the Boss, Scott "Top Ten" Kempner (rhythm guitar) and (following several other stool-sitters) Stu Boy King (drums). Legendary Bronx party boy Handsome Dick Manitoba (Richard Blum), who had joined his pals' band as their roadie, was photographed in wrestling regalia for the cover of their first LP, guested on some of the tracks and was listed in the credits as "secret weapon." (It was only a matter of time before he would assume his rightful position as the band's lead singer.) Produced by the Sandy Pearlman/Murray Krugman team responsible for the Blue Õyster Cult, The Dictators Go Girl Crazy! is a wickedly funny, brilliantly played and hopelessly naïve masterpiece of self-indulgent smartass rock'n'roll, pre-indie-rock proof that regular kids could make the major-label record (as if there were an alternative at the time) they always imagined. The album has covers ("I Got You Babe," "California Sun") that unravel history, hubris ("The Next Big Thing"), cherce Shernoff songs about the "Weekend" and "Teengenerate" life, Manitoba's first signature song ("Two Tub Man") and even an original surf-rock gem, "(I Live for) Cars and Girls." The Rosetta Stone of punk pop and an absolute classic released years before a company like Epic could even begin to imagine how to convince anyone to buy it. -- Trouser Press
From 1975 Go Girl Crazy is unbelievably far ahead of its time, and at the same time queerly traditional. This is where The Ramones got their ideas. Not some of their ideas mind, all of them. As young fans Joey and Dee Dee practically stood in the crowd taking notes. The bubblegum covers ("I Got You Babe"), the moronic pride ("Teengenerate"), the questionable taste ("Master Race") -- right down to the three-chord thunder. Like Blue Oyster Cult, The Dictators were a Richard Meltzer-endorsed unit, and one of the primal "Lumpen" intellectual gestures in music. Sadly forgotten. -- Woebot
review[-] by Mark DemingIn 1975, when punk rock and heavy metal were two opposing camps who barely who acknowledged each other's existence, The Dictators' first album, Go Girl Crazy!, found New York's finest trying to bring both sides together in a brave, prescient, and (at least at the time) futile gesture. The band's "smart guys who like dumb stuff" humor, junk-culture reference points, and '60s cheeze rock covers ("California Sun" and "I Got You Babe" on one album) would seem tailor made for the crowd at CBGB digging the Ramones and the Dead Boys, but their sludgy and stripped down hard rock (and Ross "The Boss" Funichello's neo-metal guitar solos) were something else altogether. And at a time when the arena rock audience had not yet embraced the less-than-subtle humor and theatrics of Sparks or Cheap Trick, The Dictators' ahead-of-their-time enthusiasm for wrestling, White Castle hamburgers, and television confused more kids than it converted. Heard today, the album is a hoot and a half; if the tempos could often stand to be a bit livelier, Adny Shernoff's songs are still great (especially the absurdly anthemic "Two Tub Man," "I Live for Cars and Girls," and "Weekend"), the jokes still register (while the contemporary Political Correctness brigade might blanch at "Back to Africa" or "Master Race Rock," they're merely absurd in the Mad Magazine tradition), and "secret weapon" Handsome Dick Manitoba was truly a find. Dozens of groups borrowed wholesale from Go Girl Crazy! later on down the line, but the original is still the greatest ... and the funniest.
In 1975, when punk rock and heavy metal were two opposing camps who barely who acknowledged each other's existence, The Dictators' first album, Go Girl Crazy!, found New York's finest trying to bring both sides together in a brave, prescient, and (at least at the time) futile gesture. The band's "smart guys who like dumb stuff" humor, junk-culture reference points, and '60s cheeze rock covers ("California Sun" and "I Got You Babe" on one album) would seem tailor made for the crowd at CBGB digging the Ramones and the Dead Boys, but their sludgy and stripped down hard rock (and Ross "The Boss" Funichello's neo-metal guitar solos) were something else altogether. And at a time when the arena rock audience had not yet embraced the less-than-subtle humor and theatrics of Sparks or Cheap Trick, The Dictators' ahead-of-their-time enthusiasm for wrestling, White Castle hamburgers, and television confused more kids than it converted. Heard today, the album is a hoot and a half; if the tempos could often stand to be a bit livelier, Adny Shernoff's songs are still great (especially the absurdly anthemic "Two Tub Man," "I Live for Cars and Girls," and "Weekend"), the jokes still register (while the contemporary Political Correctness brigade might blanch at "Back to Africa" or "Master Race Rock," they're merely absurd in the Mad Magazine tradition), and "secret weapon" Handsome Dick Manitoba was truly a find. Dozens of groups borrowed wholesale from Go Girl Crazy! later on down the line, but the original is still the greatest ... and the funniest.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:10 (thirteen years ago)
Who else are you thinking of?
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:14 (thirteen years ago)
Radio Birdman! YAYBig co-sign on this.I'd imagine most people who would be interested will have already heard it but just in case - if you're into straightahead garage-punk then you really can't go wrong with Radios Appear. Got such a sharp-edged sound to it.
― oldsockstofu (Mr Andy M), Monday, 18 March 2013 20:16 (thirteen years ago)
well mr van halen went the synth route for a start. Not the experimental route.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:17 (thirteen years ago)
mr fripp
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:18 (thirteen years ago)
Andy otm
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 20:19 (thirteen years ago)
316. WAR All Day Music (820 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #319 for 1971http://img.maniadb.com/images/album/121/121954_2_f.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/4Ei6zNUMUsh5KDeATcBrol
I'm beginning to find that their slow groove has a winning depth of character--B.B. Dickerson and Papa Dee Allen get as personal on bass and congas as most rock and rollers do on guitar and piano, and their chants often say more than rock's so-called poetry. Nice to have a couple of hits for purposes of identification, too. But their very slow groove, the one that takes over side one with "That's What Love Will Do," makes me think they take the whole idea of Vanilla Fudge too seriously. B+ -- R. Christgau
As controlled as their self-titled debut was loose, War's sophomore effort, All Day Music, appearing a little over six months later in November 1971, was packed with subtly understated grooves. A hit with the fans, the LP peaked in the Top Ten, ultimately spending a massive 39 weeks on the charts. Side one is a gorgeous slab of mellow grooves and jazzed funk highlighted by both the title track and "Get Down," while "That's What Love Can Do" is an outstanding, textured, sleepy love affair revolving around the band's superior vocal harmonies and a tenor sax solo. The light, spare rhythm is like a warm treacle binding. With just three songs picking up the second half, War steps up the pace across the Latin-influenced jam "Nappy Head," the funky, bass-laden "Slipping Into the Darkness," and the all-out electric blues jam that rips through the prototype "Baby Brother." The latter was recorded live on June 30, 1971, at California's Hollywood Bowl and would, in revised and seriously edited form, be reborn as the monster "Me and Baby Brother" on War's Deliver the Word opus. Not nearly as fiery (with the exception of "Baby Brother," of course) as either their live performances or later albums, All Day Music is still one of this band's best-ever efforts. At times mellow enough to border on horizontal, the songs are filled with such texture and such rich intent that even in the band's quietest breath there is a funky resonance that fulfills Lee Oskar's vision fully.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:20 (thirteen years ago)
review[-] by Amy Hanson
315. SPK Auto-Da-Fe (827 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #13 for 1983 , #1270 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/305/MI0002305550.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Auto-Da-Fe is so devoid of information (no track listing even) that it makes New Order records seem encyclopedic by comparison. SPK's approach is somewhat softened relative to prior work; while hardly poppy, synth melodies and dance beats in a style resembling D.A.F. are present. Lyrics are often vulgar and/or morbid, but the results aren't half as shocking as they seem to imagine. -- Trouser Press
reviewby John BushThe beginning of a more organized approach for SPK material, Auto Da-Fe presents an intriguing industrial-disco fusion, reminiscent of prime contemporary material by Cabaret Voltaire and DAF. An assortment of synthesizer stabs and progressive beats are the backing for lyrics best explained by titles like "Retard" and "Heart That Breaks." Although fans probably thought of Auto Da-Fe as an unconscionable crossover attempt, it's still quite experimental in retrospect. Mute's CD reissue of the album also includes tracks from SPK's 1978 single "Surgical Penis Klinik," 1979's Meat Processing Sektion EP, and 1983's Dekompositions EP.
The beginning of a more organized approach for SPK material, Auto Da-Fe presents an intriguing industrial-disco fusion, reminiscent of prime contemporary material by Cabaret Voltaire and DAF. An assortment of synthesizer stabs and progressive beats are the backing for lyrics best explained by titles like "Retard" and "Heart That Breaks." Although fans probably thought of Auto Da-Fe as an unconscionable crossover attempt, it's still quite experimental in retrospect. Mute's CD reissue of the album also includes tracks from SPK's 1978 single "Surgical Penis Klinik," 1979's Meat Processing Sektion EP, and 1983's Dekompositions EP.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:30 (thirteen years ago)
Still dipping into these as they take my fancy - currently enjoying Far East Family Band - Parallel World a lot. Thanks to emil.y and fastnbulbous for the recommendations on it.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Monday, 18 March 2013 20:34 (thirteen years ago)
Country Life is a really good album but there is no way it should be higher than Stranded which is just perfect.
Some great soul choices today. I voted for War, Baby Huey, Bootsy and Parliament. That Mandril album is ok but I voted for two other albums by them that are way better. I love that Isley Brothers album but again they have a few albums I like more. I had three of their earlier albums on my list, hoping at least a couple of them will place.
I had the first two Ultravox albums on my list but right at the bottom, a great album could be made from the best tracks of each. That Island Years compilation probably makes a better listen than the albums separately.
― Kitchen Person, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:39 (thirteen years ago)
314. THOMAS LEER & ROBERT RENTAL The Bridge (828 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #207 for 1979http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/961/MI0001961633.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4HEteALnx6ySG1yHpHY4CD
The Bridge, done in tandem with Robert Rental, is Leer's foray into Germanic technique, consisting of dark electro-pop songs underlined by repetitious sound patterns and punctuated by appliance noises. Despite the music's hard edge, some tunes — notably "Monochrome Day's" — are masterpieces of the form. Uneven but entertaining. -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:40 (thirteen years ago)
I prefer Country Life to Stranded myself but the 1st 5 albums are perfect really.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:41 (thirteen years ago)
Albums get 7 votes yet dont even crack the top 300.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:43 (thirteen years ago)
Completely agree with the Far East Family Band love above. Parallel World has definitely been my favorite discovery from this poll thus far.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Monday, 18 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
313. MILES DAVIS Big Fun (830 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #70 for 1974 , #2682 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/623/MI0001623457.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/66ubx5B6Q0Vgl7vbvGWP9h
Four side-long "pieces" that serve as a sampler of Davis's pre-On the Corner early-'70s music, with Miles playing trumpet throughout (intermittently throughout) and such luminaries as Wayne Shorter and John McLaughlin doing a lot to define their respective segments. The sitar-and-tamboura interlude that untracks the gently loping "Great Expectations" about two-thirds of the way through is typical of the album's failures--the only side that doesn't wind down prematurely is "Lonely Fire," which after meandering at the beginning develops into lyrical mood music reminiscent in spirit and fundamental intent of Sketches of Spain. But for the most part this is uncommonly beautiful stuff, and it gets better. A- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Thom JurekDespite the presence of classic tracks like Joe Zawinul's "Great Expectations," Big Fun feels like the compendium of sources it is. These tracks are all outtakes from other sessions, most notably Bitches Brew, On the Corner, and others. The other element is that many of these tracks appeared in different versions elsewhere. These were second takes, or the unedited takes before producer Teo Macero and Miles were able to edit them, cut and paste their parts into other things, or whatever. That is not to say the album should be dismissed. Despite the numerous lineups and uneven flow of the tracks, there does remain some outstanding playing and composing here. Most notably is "Great Expectations" from 1969, which opens the album. Here the lineup is Miles, Steve Grossman, Bennie Maupin, John McLaughlin, Khalil Balakrishna, and Bihari Sharma on sitar and tambura, Herbie, Chick Corea, Ron Carter, Harvey Brooks, Billy Cobham, and Airto. Creating a series of vamps from drones and a small melodic figure, there is very little in the way of groove or melodic development until the middle section, where a series of modalities enters the composition. The second album in the set features "Go Ahead John," an outtake from Jack Johnson's sessions that is 28 minutes in length. It's a riff-based groover, with McLaughlin and his wah-wah pedal setting the pace with Steve Grossman on soprano. The basic motif is the blues, floating around E and Bb flat, but there are modulations introduced by Miles into Db flat that add a kinkier dimension into the proceedings as well. Dave Holland is the bass player, and DeJohnette is the drummer. There is no piano. What's most interesting about this date is how it prefigures what would become "Right Off" from Jack Johnson. It doesn't have the same fire, nor does it manage to sustain itself for the duration, but there are some truly wonderful sections in the piece. This is for Miles fans only, especially those of his electric period, because it fills in the puzzle. The reissue added four bonus tracks to the original double-LP set, but other than "Recollections" by Zawinul, they shed little light on the mystique and development of the intensely creative music being developed in 1969 and 1970. Others should be directed to Bitches Brew, In A Silent Way, Jack Johnson, or Live Evil as starting points.
Despite the presence of classic tracks like Joe Zawinul's "Great Expectations," Big Fun feels like the compendium of sources it is. These tracks are all outtakes from other sessions, most notably Bitches Brew, On the Corner, and others. The other element is that many of these tracks appeared in different versions elsewhere. These were second takes, or the unedited takes before producer Teo Macero and Miles were able to edit them, cut and paste their parts into other things, or whatever. That is not to say the album should be dismissed. Despite the numerous lineups and uneven flow of the tracks, there does remain some outstanding playing and composing here. Most notably is "Great Expectations" from 1969, which opens the album. Here the lineup is Miles, Steve Grossman, Bennie Maupin, John McLaughlin, Khalil Balakrishna, and Bihari Sharma on sitar and tambura, Herbie, Chick Corea, Ron Carter, Harvey Brooks, Billy Cobham, and Airto. Creating a series of vamps from drones and a small melodic figure, there is very little in the way of groove or melodic development until the middle section, where a series of modalities enters the composition. The second album in the set features "Go Ahead John," an outtake from Jack Johnson's sessions that is 28 minutes in length. It's a riff-based groover, with McLaughlin and his wah-wah pedal setting the pace with Steve Grossman on soprano. The basic motif is the blues, floating around E and Bb flat, but there are modulations introduced by Miles into Db flat that add a kinkier dimension into the proceedings as well. Dave Holland is the bass player, and DeJohnette is the drummer. There is no piano. What's most interesting about this date is how it prefigures what would become "Right Off" from Jack Johnson. It doesn't have the same fire, nor does it manage to sustain itself for the duration, but there are some truly wonderful sections in the piece. This is for Miles fans only, especially those of his electric period, because it fills in the puzzle. The reissue added four bonus tracks to the original double-LP set, but other than "Recollections" by Zawinul, they shed little light on the mystique and development of the intensely creative music being developed in 1969 and 1970. Others should be directed to Bitches Brew, In A Silent Way, Jack Johnson, or Live Evil as starting points.
Again please remember to go vote in POLLIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET (ILM artist poll #32 voting thread)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 20:55 (thirteen years ago)
312. ALICE COOPER Love It to Death (836 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #38 for 1971 , #838 overall | Acclaimed: #1508 | RS: #460http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/481/MI0002481205.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6p7jHbG5Bd6z2JgfKx0um7
Never would have figured this theatre type to come up with it, but he did--"I'm Eighteen," as archetypal a hard rock single as you're liable to hear in this flaccid year, or maybe ever. Almost as surprising, guitarist Mike Bruce surrounds it with the anthemic "Caught in a Dream" and "Long Way to Go." After which drummer Dennis Dunaway gives forth with "Black Juju," which lasts four seconds longer than all three of the above combined. B- -- R. ChristgauYou couldn't really find a more compulsive Hard Rock personality than Iggy Pop; Alice Cooper however does come pretty close. His early discs are cut from the same cloth as the early Stooge's work, probably sold more at the time but paradoxically are now almost forgotten. Love it to Death is full of fascinating sentiments, from the beautifully-observed, painfully-honest spiral of confusion that is "I'm eighteen" - "I've got a baby's brain and an old man's heart...don't always know what I'm talking about, feels like I'm living in the middle of doubt" (surely one of the most eloquent explorations of adolescent dislocation) to the body horror of "Black Juju." These are themes that Cooper acolyte John Lydon was to pick up five years later. Equally there are wicked riffs of "Caught in a Dream" and "Is It My Body." -- Woebot[It came on the radio in the late afternoon and from the first note it was right: Alice Cooper bringing it all back home again. God it's beautiful it is the most reassuring thing that has happened in this year of the Taylor Family...]Ever since they ceased to be the Nazz, a fairly normal Yardbirds/Who derivation in the manner of Count V, and became instead Frank Zappa's vision of American youth's sexual uncertainties gone berserk, Alice Cooper have endured more than their fair share of abuse from such redoubtables as Rolling Stone in general and L. Bangs in particular, this in spite of the fact that their stage-show, clumsy and heavy-handed though it usually has been, represents at least a modest oasis in the desert of dreary blue-jeaned aloofness served up in concert by most American rock-and-rollers.That their recorded work has heretofore been quite ghastly has scarcely served to make anyone fonder of them.Henceforth Alice's detractors won't have their albums to kick about any more. Love it to death they and you may not, but at least like Love It To Death a lot many will, especially those with an ear for nicely-wrought mainstream punk raunch and snidely clever lyrics. For these, along with a heretofore-lacking sense of economy and control, are the major ingredients of such staples of Love It as "I'm Eighteen" (Alice's first teenage hit single), "Is It My Body" (a plea for, believe it or not, less superficiality in interpersonal relationships, particularly in those between the Coopers and their backstage courtiers). "Hallowed Be My Name," and "Sun Arise" (their dynamite show-opener, which they resourcefully learned off the back of an old Rolf Harris hit).Sadly, the one bummer on this album is so loud a bummer that it may threaten to neutralize the ingratiating effect of the aforementioned nifties. Embarassingly reminiscent of the very worst of such horrors as Iron Butterfly and Black Sabbath and in places so strikingly similar to "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun" that the Coopers may yet have to answer to Pink Floyd in court, "Black Juju" is mind-blowing black-magic nonsense at its most inane. Considering that this piece has seldom, if ever, worked properly live, in which context Alice's supposedly hypnotic chanting in the middle has been known to inspire audiences to yell, "Get off the fucking stage," it's difficult to imagine why they supposed it would work on record.Some will be pleased to note, though, that "Ballad of Dwight Fry," the story of a man who's gone temporarily insane and finds himself going gradually more insane as a result of being confined in a mental institution, is conveyed by a genuinely pretty melody, which more than makes up for "Juju"'s presence. I'll be looking forward to seeing the Coopers perform this one live.Now that they're making quite good records, incidentally, it is to be hoped that the Coopers will apply themselves to dreaming up a new image, that of the psychedelic drag-queen group having long since been exhausted witness how they've had to get into gruesome (and thus inconsistent with their stated intention of testing our sexual insecurities by being ambiguously attractive) stuff like tarantula eye make-up in order to stay ahead of their audiences in terms of outrageousness.Not to be presumptuous, but I should like to suggest to the group that, in what will surely be recorded as a monumental feat of guts, as a sensational testament to the veracity of the image of iconoclastic perversity they've worked so hard to compile, they now turn the tables completely -to wit, that they all get crew-cuts, weight-lift their frail or pudgy bodies into Atlasian magnificence, perform in leopard-skin bikini briefs smeared head-to-toe with coconut oil (taking care to flex their muscles as often as possible while playing and flexing them dramatically between numbers), and generally give the young rocking studs of our great nation something to look up to.I'll betcha they don't have the balls. -- John Mendelsohn, RS
You couldn't really find a more compulsive Hard Rock personality than Iggy Pop; Alice Cooper however does come pretty close. His early discs are cut from the same cloth as the early Stooge's work, probably sold more at the time but paradoxically are now almost forgotten. Love it to Death is full of fascinating sentiments, from the beautifully-observed, painfully-honest spiral of confusion that is "I'm eighteen" - "I've got a baby's brain and an old man's heart...don't always know what I'm talking about, feels like I'm living in the middle of doubt" (surely one of the most eloquent explorations of adolescent dislocation) to the body horror of "Black Juju." These are themes that Cooper acolyte John Lydon was to pick up five years later. Equally there are wicked riffs of "Caught in a Dream" and "Is It My Body." -- Woebot
[It came on the radio in the late afternoon and from the first note it was right: Alice Cooper bringing it all back home again. God it's beautiful it is the most reassuring thing that has happened in this year of the Taylor Family...]Ever since they ceased to be the Nazz, a fairly normal Yardbirds/Who derivation in the manner of Count V, and became instead Frank Zappa's vision of American youth's sexual uncertainties gone berserk, Alice Cooper have endured more than their fair share of abuse from such redoubtables as Rolling Stone in general and L. Bangs in particular, this in spite of the fact that their stage-show, clumsy and heavy-handed though it usually has been, represents at least a modest oasis in the desert of dreary blue-jeaned aloofness served up in concert by most American rock-and-rollers.That their recorded work has heretofore been quite ghastly has scarcely served to make anyone fonder of them.Henceforth Alice's detractors won't have their albums to kick about any more. Love it to death they and you may not, but at least like Love It To Death a lot many will, especially those with an ear for nicely-wrought mainstream punk raunch and snidely clever lyrics. For these, along with a heretofore-lacking sense of economy and control, are the major ingredients of such staples of Love It as "I'm Eighteen" (Alice's first teenage hit single), "Is It My Body" (a plea for, believe it or not, less superficiality in interpersonal relationships, particularly in those between the Coopers and their backstage courtiers). "Hallowed Be My Name," and "Sun Arise" (their dynamite show-opener, which they resourcefully learned off the back of an old Rolf Harris hit).
Sadly, the one bummer on this album is so loud a bummer that it may threaten to neutralize the ingratiating effect of the aforementioned nifties. Embarassingly reminiscent of the very worst of such horrors as Iron Butterfly and Black Sabbath and in places so strikingly similar to "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun" that the Coopers may yet have to answer to Pink Floyd in court, "Black Juju" is mind-blowing black-magic nonsense at its most inane. Considering that this piece has seldom, if ever, worked properly live, in which context Alice's supposedly hypnotic chanting in the middle has been known to inspire audiences to yell, "Get off the fucking stage," it's difficult to imagine why they supposed it would work on record.Some will be pleased to note, though, that "Ballad of Dwight Fry," the story of a man who's gone temporarily insane and finds himself going gradually more insane as a result of being confined in a mental institution, is conveyed by a genuinely pretty melody, which more than makes up for "Juju"'s presence. I'll be looking forward to seeing the Coopers perform this one live.Now that they're making quite good records, incidentally, it is to be hoped that the Coopers will apply themselves to dreaming up a new image, that of the psychedelic drag-queen group having long since been exhausted witness how they've had to get into gruesome (and thus inconsistent with their stated intention of testing our sexual insecurities by being ambiguously attractive) stuff like tarantula eye make-up in order to stay ahead of their audiences in terms of outrageousness.Not to be presumptuous, but I should like to suggest to the group that, in what will surely be recorded as a monumental feat of guts, as a sensational testament to the veracity of the image of iconoclastic perversity they've worked so hard to compile, they now turn the tables completely -to wit, that they all get crew-cuts, weight-lift their frail or pudgy bodies into Atlasian magnificence, perform in leopard-skin bikini briefs smeared head-to-toe with coconut oil (taking care to flex their muscles as often as possible while playing and flexing them dramatically between numbers), and generally give the young rocking studs of our great nation something to look up to.I'll betcha they don't have the balls. -- John Mendelsohn, RS
review[-] by Greg PratoAlice Cooper's third album, Love It to Death, can be pinpointed as the release when everything began to come together for the band. Their first couple of albums (Pretties for You and Easy Action) were both largely psychedelic/acid rock affairs and bore little comparison to the band's eventual rip-roaring, teenage-anthem direction. The main reason for the quintet's change was that the eventually legendary producer Bob Ezrin was on board for the first time and helped the Coopers focus their songwriting and sound, while they also perfected their trashy, violent, and theatrical stage show and image. One of the band's most instantly identifiable anthems, "I'm Eighteen," was what made the album a hit, as well as another classic, "Is It My Body." But like Alice Cooper's other albums from the early '70s, it was an incredibly consistent listen from beginning to end. The garage rocker "Caught in a Dream" as well as the ass-kicking "Long Way to Go" and a pair of epics -- the Doors-esque "Black Juju" and the eerie "Ballad of Dwight Fry" -- showed that Alice was easily in league with other high-energy Detroit bands of the era (MC5, Stooges). Love It to Death was the first of a string of classic releases from the original Alice Cooper group.
Alice Cooper's third album, Love It to Death, can be pinpointed as the release when everything began to come together for the band. Their first couple of albums (Pretties for You and Easy Action) were both largely psychedelic/acid rock affairs and bore little comparison to the band's eventual rip-roaring, teenage-anthem direction. The main reason for the quintet's change was that the eventually legendary producer Bob Ezrin was on board for the first time and helped the Coopers focus their songwriting and sound, while they also perfected their trashy, violent, and theatrical stage show and image. One of the band's most instantly identifiable anthems, "I'm Eighteen," was what made the album a hit, as well as another classic, "Is It My Body." But like Alice Cooper's other albums from the early '70s, it was an incredibly consistent listen from beginning to end. The garage rocker "Caught in a Dream" as well as the ass-kicking "Long Way to Go" and a pair of epics -- the Doors-esque "Black Juju" and the eerie "Ballad of Dwight Fry" -- showed that Alice was easily in league with other high-energy Detroit bands of the era (MC5, Stooges). Love It to Death was the first of a string of classic releases from the original Alice Cooper group.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:05 (thirteen years ago)
311. JAMES WHITE AND THE BLACKS Off White (842 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #256 for 1979http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/439/MI0001439444.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Off White is a set of funky, demented disco tunes performed with Scott, Harris, Christensen and Place. Though milder and more accessible than his Chance-work, Off White plays freely with his attempts at sexual ennui ("Stained Sheets") and racial ambiguity ("Almost Black"), and features a wonderfully weird and erotic version of Irving Berlin's "(Tropical) Heat Wave." Recommended. After White/Chance left the label, ZE compiled material from Off White and Buy to make Second Chance. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Victor W. ValdiviaFor Off White, James Chance, a veteran of New York's avant-garde no wave scene, recast his seminal band the Contortions as a parody of a soul band, albeit one incorporating the rhythms of disco and funk rather than R&B. Thus, Chance became James White (as a nod to James Brown), the Contortions became the Blacks, and his music, previously a twisted, experimental brand of avant-jazz, became a disco/funk/free jazz hybrid. As bizarre as the fusion of Albert Ayler and Giorgio Moroder might sound, Off White works primarily because Chance commits to both sides of the music. The disco rhythms, especially on "Almost Black, Pt. 1" and "Contort Yourself" are as pounding as anything Casablanca ever released (even the production is slick and polished), while his sax solos on both those tracks are squawks and bleats that would scare off all but the most committed avant-garde hipsters. He even attempts calypso on "(Tropical) Heat Wave," mixing a languid island rhythm with intricate blasts of noise. By carefully constructing his music with such polar opposites, Chance manages to highlight how both of them have more similarities, especially in rhythm, than would appear at first listen. Off White may be an acquired taste, but listeners who dig into it will have their patience rewarded with some of the most challenging, intriguing music to emerge from the post-punk era.
For Off White, James Chance, a veteran of New York's avant-garde no wave scene, recast his seminal band the Contortions as a parody of a soul band, albeit one incorporating the rhythms of disco and funk rather than R&B. Thus, Chance became James White (as a nod to James Brown), the Contortions became the Blacks, and his music, previously a twisted, experimental brand of avant-jazz, became a disco/funk/free jazz hybrid. As bizarre as the fusion of Albert Ayler and Giorgio Moroder might sound, Off White works primarily because Chance commits to both sides of the music. The disco rhythms, especially on "Almost Black, Pt. 1" and "Contort Yourself" are as pounding as anything Casablanca ever released (even the production is slick and polished), while his sax solos on both those tracks are squawks and bleats that would scare off all but the most committed avant-garde hipsters. He even attempts calypso on "(Tropical) Heat Wave," mixing a languid island rhythm with intricate blasts of noise. By carefully constructing his music with such polar opposites, Chance manages to highlight how both of them have more similarities, especially in rhythm, than would appear at first listen. Off White may be an acquired taste, but listeners who dig into it will have their patience rewarded with some of the most challenging, intriguing music to emerge from the post-punk era.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:20 (thirteen years ago)
so plenty of stuff now for the three stooges of HH/EIII & Sirmosnster ;)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:22 (thirteen years ago)
Emil.y are you ready for some turkish psych?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:27 (thirteen years ago)
310. ERKIN KORAY Erkin Koray 2 (843 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #33 for 1976 , #3419 overallhttp://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/_/26224191/2+Cover.jpg
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:30 (thirteen years ago)
oh well sadly emil.y is not here to talk about him :(
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:35 (thirteen years ago)
309. GILA Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee (846 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #293 for 1973http://www.recordsale.de/cdpix/g/gila-bury_my_heart_at_wounded_knee(1).jpg
reviewby Rolf SemprebonWhereas the first record was psychedelic space rock acid jams, on their second album, Gila, now consisting of mostly Popol Vuh members, offered something far more sedate. Though Conny Veit was always the leader of Gila, this one comes off much more like a solo effort. The record is a concept album inspired by the book of the same name by Dee Alexander Brown that brought the plight of the North American Indians to international attention. Complex multi-tracked acoustic guitar melodies create a shimmering, even haunting beauty in a lushly Baroque setting, while some of the lyrics are taken from various Native American texts. "The Buffalo Are Coming," with its long instrumental section as well as Native American styled rhythms and chanting, is the high point. Otherwise the vocals distract somewhat from the music, and the whole thing comes off as too much with a smooth new age vibe, especially when compared to the acid-damage blastoff of the earlier Gila album.
Whereas the first record was psychedelic space rock acid jams, on their second album, Gila, now consisting of mostly Popol Vuh members, offered something far more sedate. Though Conny Veit was always the leader of Gila, this one comes off much more like a solo effort. The record is a concept album inspired by the book of the same name by Dee Alexander Brown that brought the plight of the North American Indians to international attention. Complex multi-tracked acoustic guitar melodies create a shimmering, even haunting beauty in a lushly Baroque setting, while some of the lyrics are taken from various Native American texts. "The Buffalo Are Coming," with its long instrumental section as well as Native American styled rhythms and chanting, is the high point. Otherwise the vocals distract somewhat from the music, and the whole thing comes off as too much with a smooth new age vibe, especially when compared to the acid-damage blastoff of the earlier Gila album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:40 (thirteen years ago)
I love the Thomas Leer & Robert Rental singles I heard, but don't know in what universe their synth pop belongs here. But what the heck, I want it.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:43 (thirteen years ago)
Wow another great day for this list! Didnt think Mutantes had a chance, so to see them, Heart, and now Off White place. Lotz of grins.
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Monday, 18 March 2013 21:43 (thirteen years ago)
fnb because its in lower reaches, not dominating and hardly mainstream im cool with it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:46 (thirteen years ago)
308. CARAVAN In The Land Of The Grey & Pink (847 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #26 for 1971 , #468 overall | Acclaimed: #2200http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/077/MI0002077825.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/50z4375MZgX9fd6aAtqquM
review[-] by Lindsay PlanerIn the Land of Grey and Pink is considered by many to be a pinnacle release from Caravan. The album contains an undeniable and decidedly European sense of humor and charm. In addition, this would mark the end of the band's premiere lineup. Co-founder David Sinclair would leave Caravan to form Matching Mole with Soft Machine drummer and vocalist Robert Wyatt in August of 1971. As a group effort, In the Land of Grey and Pink displays all the ethereal brilliance Caravan created on their previous pair of 12" outings. Their blending of jazz and folk instrumentation and improvisational styles hints at Traffic and Family, as displayed on "Winter Wine," as well as the organ and sax driven instrumental introduction to "Nine Feet Underground." These contrast the decidedly aggressive sounds concurrent with albums from King Crimson or Soft Machine. In fact, beginning with the album's title, there seems to be pastoral qualities and motifs throughout. Another reason enthusiasts rank this album among their favorites is the group dynamic which has rarely sounded more singular or cohesive. David Sinclair's lyrics are of particular note, especially the middle-earth imagery used on "Winter Wine" or the enduring whimsy of "Golf Girl." The remastered version of this album includes previously unissued demos/alternate versions of both tracks under the titles: "It's Likely to Have a Name Next Week" and "Group Girl," respectively. The remastered disc also includes "I Don't Know Its Name (Alias the Word)" and "Aristocracy," two pieces that were completed, but shelved in deference to the time limitations imposed during the days of wine and vinyl. The latter composition would be reworked and released on Caravan's next album, Waterloo Lily. The 12-page liner notes booklet includes expanded graphics, memorabilia, and an essay penned specifically for the reissue.
In the Land of Grey and Pink is considered by many to be a pinnacle release from Caravan. The album contains an undeniable and decidedly European sense of humor and charm. In addition, this would mark the end of the band's premiere lineup. Co-founder David Sinclair would leave Caravan to form Matching Mole with Soft Machine drummer and vocalist Robert Wyatt in August of 1971. As a group effort, In the Land of Grey and Pink displays all the ethereal brilliance Caravan created on their previous pair of 12" outings. Their blending of jazz and folk instrumentation and improvisational styles hints at Traffic and Family, as displayed on "Winter Wine," as well as the organ and sax driven instrumental introduction to "Nine Feet Underground." These contrast the decidedly aggressive sounds concurrent with albums from King Crimson or Soft Machine. In fact, beginning with the album's title, there seems to be pastoral qualities and motifs throughout. Another reason enthusiasts rank this album among their favorites is the group dynamic which has rarely sounded more singular or cohesive. David Sinclair's lyrics are of particular note, especially the middle-earth imagery used on "Winter Wine" or the enduring whimsy of "Golf Girl." The remastered version of this album includes previously unissued demos/alternate versions of both tracks under the titles: "It's Likely to Have a Name Next Week" and "Group Girl," respectively. The remastered disc also includes "I Don't Know Its Name (Alias the Word)" and "Aristocracy," two pieces that were completed, but shelved in deference to the time limitations imposed during the days of wine and vinyl. The latter composition would be reworked and released on Caravan's next album, Waterloo Lily. The 12-page liner notes booklet includes expanded graphics, memorabilia, and an essay penned specifically for the reissue.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:50 (thirteen years ago)
jesus, love it to death at only 312? rmde
― wk, Monday, 18 March 2013 21:50 (thirteen years ago)
307. CAPTAIN BEEFHEART & THE MAGIC BAND Licky My Decals Off, Baby (847 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #54 for 1970 , #1499 overall | Acclaimed: #1885http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/789/MI0001789070.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
reviewby Steve HueyProduced by Captain Beefheart himself, Lick My Decals Off, Baby was a further refining and exploration of the musical ideas posited on Trout Mask Replica. As such, the imaginative fervor of Trout Mask is toned down somewhat, but in its place is an increased self-assurance; the tone of Decals is also a bit darker, examining environmental issues in some songs rather than simply concentrating on surreal wordplay. Whatever the differences, the jagged, complex rhythms and guitar interplay continue to amaze. Those wanting to dig deeper after the essential Trout Mask Replica are advised to begin doing so here.
Produced by Captain Beefheart himself, Lick My Decals Off, Baby was a further refining and exploration of the musical ideas posited on Trout Mask Replica. As such, the imaginative fervor of Trout Mask is toned down somewhat, but in its place is an increased self-assurance; the tone of Decals is also a bit darker, examining environmental issues in some songs rather than simply concentrating on surreal wordplay. Whatever the differences, the jagged, complex rhythms and guitar interplay continue to amaze. Those wanting to dig deeper after the essential Trout Mask Replica are advised to begin doing so here.
Like Trout Mask Replica, this music is so jumpy and disjoint it's ominous. But after some acclimatization you can play it while doing the dishes, and good. Beefheart's famous five-octave range and covert totalitarian structures have taken on a playful undertone, repulsive and engrossing and slapstick funny. N.b.: us new dinosaurs had better kick off our "old dinosaur shoes." Or was that "Dinah Shore shoes"? Both. A- -- R. Christgau...The clusters of notes are like pulsing electron grids imbedded with Van Allen Belt movies. I guess it's metal music. The earth is a core of molten metals, covered by a thin layer of slime (soft, vulnerable organic tissue). Metal is good. It performs its own technical function. Metal has individuality, soul. Plastic copies the form of plant, mineral, metal, flesh, but has no soul. Androids are plasticized citizens who carry themselves like wallet-size replicas of Captain Beefheart robotoization moves. The title track of this album is a plea for lingual relief from plastic decalcomania.Beefheart's sonic poles are ntomological/archeological. Numb metalloid drones contain scrapings of bone-mealy lemur tongues and cool dinosaur rock modules ("Smithsonian Institute Blues or the Big Dig"), contrpuntal tarpit anthems to our fanged ancestors ("Petrified Forest"), plus generally atonal insect-agony and high-class Bug Music even invaeded by those broom tongues I mentioned earlier ("The Buggy Boogie Woogie"). All this sounds best listened to over Sennheiser headphones. The earpieces are foam rubber not plastic and that's important for picking up all ambient muzaks here, for instance the kitchen zinc melt reference 1:34 into "Japan in a Dishpan."The only person I know who buys records wouldn't buy this one (I got my copy free). But that's OK. Captain Beefheart is probably more famous on Venus than Stan Kenton ever was, already. -- Tom Clark, RSFirst Beefheart record I ever bought, second one I ever heard (after Clear Spot, of which more elsewhere.) This record always seems to be judged in terms of its similarities/failings in comparison to its immediate predecessor, Trout Mask Replica. I'll try not to let that happen too much here, but you know how it is... the aforementioned double album will doubtless be dealt with elsewhere in this series by (insert name of PSF stalwart here...). So let's to the matter in hand, namely in my opinion one of the most underrated LP's in not only the entire Beefheart canon but the entire canon of, um, how can I put this without seeming all...oh, what the fuck, rock music itself. Those majestical sweeping literary phrases - how do I love thee! Here's hoping you do, too!Anyway, as the Bonzo Dog Band would have it in "Sport (The Odd Boy)", 'Let's go back to your childhoodchildhoodchildhoodchildhood...' Well, early teens any road; I bought this record in '74 & was straightaway condemned by, oh, at least 98% of my school contemporaries as being utterly barking. I think it was the final band on side 2, "Flash Gordon's Ape," that really did the trick. Up to then they'd just looked at me as I tapped my foot beatifically to the beat, smirked at some of the lyrical wordplay and got all gazing-out-of-the-window-poetic over the guitar instrumentals; Mason at it again. But when confronted by the vibrant strains of "Flash Gordon's Ape," they rounded on me indignantly. 'Not even real music' was one of the more generous judgements offered, I seem to recall. My mate Simon & I just giggled at this 'heresy.' Music - who gives one? Though I had yet to encounter the cultural icon that was/is/will be the second LP by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich, the mighty If Music Be The Food Of Love...Prepare For Indigestion, I had, looking back, already taken its essential credo very much to heart. The weirder it sounded then, the better I liked it. And so it was with Decals (as it shall be referred to from now on); the fact that it freaked out my boring contemporaries was the icing on the cake. Let 'em endure Deep Purple In Rock for the rest of their days, I gloated; their loss if the Captain don't flex their magic muscle. Typical snob stuff, in other words.Down to business. Released 1971. Fifteen tracks, three of them instrumentals. In concert performances, instead of announcing 'the next number,' Beefheart would often preface matters by stating that he'd 'like to perform a composition...,' which frequently provoked a few sniggers in the process from those who thought he was aping some pompous classical type. In my opinion, nothing was further from the truth. Like most serious artists (on, and by the bye, if there's one single individual among you who would care to step outside and enter into prolonged and meaningful debate regarding the small matter of whether or nor Captain Beefheart constitutes a 'serious artist,' let's be having you) Beefheart was not averse to a smackerel of pomposity now and again, but here I always reckoned he was saying "Yes, these are my compositions - pay attention!"With the instrumental pieces on this record, especially the one for Zoot Horn Rollo's solo guitar entitled "One Red Rose That I Mean," the music forces you to take it seriously, to really listen, almost more than at any other time on the album. At times during the aforementioned track the traditional UK folk music heritage is evoked alongside the Delta blues; shades of Martin Carthy popping over to Robert Pete Williams' place for a blast. "Peon," for guitar and bass duet, is darker, more intense and yet resolves itself in uncanny fashion (by no means the only composition on this record so to do) with the most gorgeous melodic finale. The other instrumental,"Japan In A Dishpan," closes side 1 of the vinyl and features breathless childlike saxophone over what a lazier reviewer than this one might deem a typically Beefheartian romp involving guitar, bass and drums.Talking of drums, the drumming herein is astonishing; from lightning-fast dense sheet-metal thrashing and pounding to delicate brushwork (as on"The Buggy Boogie Woogie") and all percussive points in between, propelling and complimenting the other instruments in furious and inspired fashion. The liberal use of marimba throughout provides welcome tonal/atonal varieties as well as highlighting the awesome musicianship. Opinions seem to be divided as to whether it's John French or Art Tripp (or a combination of the two, individually and/or together) featured herein; you decide. The absence of a second guitar on this record as a result of Jeff Cotton's departure is in fact scarcely missed; indeed the performances of Mark Boston and Bill Harkelroad, better known as Rockette Morton and Zoot Horn Rollo, executing their leader's uncanny melodic and rhythmic exercises in syncopation on bass and six-string guitar as only they knew how, are if anything more clearly defined than on Trout Mask Replica. One thing these ears didn't pick up was the contribution of Victor Hayden (that's right, The Mascara Snake!) to this record; if he's on bass clarinet duties again, I can't hear him. Or is that him in the background on "Flash Gordon's Ape"? (That's him on the front cover though; I'd know that face anywhere.) Anyway, correct me if I'm wrong, but this would seem to be the only Beefheart recording to feature a solitary six-string guitar, and the effect on the guitar/bass balance between left and right stereo channels in the mix is most gratifying to these ears at any rate. "Got me?"Although this record is so often linked thematically with its immediate predecessor, there are also those that would prefer to see it as a transitional album, incorporating degrees of both the free jazz influence and the more 'straight'(?) blues leanings of Trout Mask Replica and The Spotlight Kid respectively. Surely either view is a mite simplistic. This record has such character, force of purpose and individuality that it stands alone. The mood is dark and at times pessimistic, but personally I find that (a) with most Beefheart records and (b) not a problem at all. What I suspect a lot of people really latch onto in this music is the emotive aspect, the gut-wrenching sound of musicians who give a toss about stuff. For me, "Decals" has this quality as much as, if not more than, any of the other music made by Captain Beefheart, musically and lyrically:"It makes me laugh to hear you say how far you've come When you barely know how to use your thumb So you know how t' count t' one""Flash Gordon's Ape""The rug's wearing out that we walk on Soon it will fray 'n we'll drop Dead into yesterday""Petrified Forest"Pretty much your average Beefheartian quirky nonsensical surrealistic wordplay, wouldn't you say? Musically too, the approach is more direct and focussed than it seems at first; so many of the guitar and bass lines are simplicity itself, often involving only two or three notes, yet it's the counterpoint of the instruments, both harmonic and rhythmic, that's so initially unsettling. Arrangements vary in complexity from the startling and subtle variations of "Doctor Dark," "Bellerin' Plain" and "Space Age Couple" to the comparatively simplistic yet no less stunning backing on "I Love You, You Big Dummy" and "The Smithsonian Institute Blues (or The Big Dig)," to say nothing of tracks that combine aspects of both such as "Woe-Is-Uh-Me-Bop" and "I Wanna Find Me A Woman That'll Hold My Big Toe Until I Have to Go." Overall, the standard is nothing short of peerless.Despite the passion and commitment so deeply evident in both the music and the lyrics, the childlike element of play so integral to Don Van Vliet's way of thinking and looking at the world is never far from the surface on this record. The way in which "dinosaur's shoes" becomes "Dinah Shore's shoes" on "The Smithsonian Institute Blues (or The Big Dig)" is surely one of the finest puns of all time in the English language, never mind rock lyrics. When I first heard it, I had no idea who Dinah Shore was, being English, but still laughed out loud - and still do. The sly joy of "The Buggy Boogie Woogie", the malevolent exuberance of "I Love You, You Big Dummy" and the vivid sexuality of the title track and "I Wanna Find Me A Woman That'll Hold My Big Toe Until I Have To Go" all gloriously give the lie to the idea that this is a depressive, emotionally one-dimensional record. Far from it.Lick My Decals Off, Baby remains for this person at least (and I suspect for many others, too) one of the most multi-faceted and rewarding of all Beefheart's recordings. A serious record? "Of course, of course." All his records are serious, serious works of art some would say. Concerned, certainly, as he always was lyrically. But never less than riveting in its content and execution; despite personal reservations about the quality of "The Clouds Are Full Of Wine (Not Whiskey or Rye)" compared to the rest of the album, I have to say one less than wonderful track out of fifteen sure ain't bad. On certain other Beefheart records it'd be a stand-out track, but compared to the other tracks here the lyrical wordplay seems almost forced and lightweight, the music almost treading water. Oh, by the way, before I forget, the Captain himself pitches in with some superb harmonica and saxophone contributions (his playing on Bellerin' Plain" and "Japan In A Dishpan" ranks among his finest for me) as well as being in as good form larynx-wise as you'll hear from him anywhere.In conclusion, a wondrous record, and a travesty that it isn't currently available in any format in the UK at least. "Not even real music"? Well, pardon me, as BobMitchum says in the crap remake of CAPE FEAR, all over the place. -- Richard Mason, Perfect Sound Forever
...The clusters of notes are like pulsing electron grids imbedded with Van Allen Belt movies. I guess it's metal music. The earth is a core of molten metals, covered by a thin layer of slime (soft, vulnerable organic tissue). Metal is good. It performs its own technical function. Metal has individuality, soul. Plastic copies the form of plant, mineral, metal, flesh, but has no soul. Androids are plasticized citizens who carry themselves like wallet-size replicas of Captain Beefheart robotoization moves. The title track of this album is a plea for lingual relief from plastic decalcomania.
Beefheart's sonic poles are ntomological/archeological. Numb metalloid drones contain scrapings of bone-mealy lemur tongues and cool dinosaur rock modules ("Smithsonian Institute Blues or the Big Dig"), contrpuntal tarpit anthems to our fanged ancestors ("Petrified Forest"), plus generally atonal insect-agony and high-class Bug Music even invaeded by those broom tongues I mentioned earlier ("The Buggy Boogie Woogie"). All this sounds best listened to over Sennheiser headphones. The earpieces are foam rubber not plastic and that's important for picking up all ambient muzaks here, for instance the kitchen zinc melt reference 1:34 into "Japan in a Dishpan."
The only person I know who buys records wouldn't buy this one (I got my copy free). But that's OK. Captain Beefheart is probably more famous on Venus than Stan Kenton ever was, already. -- Tom Clark, RS
First Beefheart record I ever bought, second one I ever heard (after Clear Spot, of which more elsewhere.) This record always seems to be judged in terms of its similarities/failings in comparison to its immediate predecessor, Trout Mask Replica. I'll try not to let that happen too much here, but you know how it is... the aforementioned double album will doubtless be dealt with elsewhere in this series by (insert name of PSF stalwart here...). So let's to the matter in hand, namely in my opinion one of the most underrated LP's in not only the entire Beefheart canon but the entire canon of, um, how can I put this without seeming all...oh, what the fuck, rock music itself. Those majestical sweeping literary phrases - how do I love thee! Here's hoping you do, too!Anyway, as the Bonzo Dog Band would have it in "Sport (The Odd Boy)", 'Let's go back to your childhoodchildhoodchildhoodchildhood...' Well, early teens any road; I bought this record in '74 & was straightaway condemned by, oh, at least 98% of my school contemporaries as being utterly barking. I think it was the final band on side 2, "Flash Gordon's Ape," that really did the trick. Up to then they'd just looked at me as I tapped my foot beatifically to the beat, smirked at some of the lyrical wordplay and got all gazing-out-of-the-window-poetic over the guitar instrumentals; Mason at it again. But when confronted by the vibrant strains of "Flash Gordon's Ape," they rounded on me indignantly. 'Not even real music' was one of the more generous judgements offered, I seem to recall. My mate Simon & I just giggled at this 'heresy.' Music - who gives one? Though I had yet to encounter the cultural icon that was/is/will be the second LP by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich, the mighty If Music Be The Food Of Love...Prepare For Indigestion, I had, looking back, already taken its essential credo very much to heart. The weirder it sounded then, the better I liked it. And so it was with Decals (as it shall be referred to from now on); the fact that it freaked out my boring contemporaries was the icing on the cake. Let 'em endure Deep Purple In Rock for the rest of their days, I gloated; their loss if the Captain don't flex their magic muscle. Typical snob stuff, in other words.Down to business. Released 1971. Fifteen tracks, three of them instrumentals. In concert performances, instead of announcing 'the next number,' Beefheart would often preface matters by stating that he'd 'like to perform a composition...,' which frequently provoked a few sniggers in the process from those who thought he was aping some pompous classical type. In my opinion, nothing was further from the truth. Like most serious artists (on, and by the bye, if there's one single individual among you who would care to step outside and enter into prolonged and meaningful debate regarding the small matter of whether or nor Captain Beefheart constitutes a 'serious artist,' let's be having you) Beefheart was not averse to a smackerel of pomposity now and again, but here I always reckoned he was saying "Yes, these are my compositions - pay attention!"With the instrumental pieces on this record, especially the one for Zoot Horn Rollo's solo guitar entitled "One Red Rose That I Mean," the music forces you to take it seriously, to really listen, almost more than at any other time on the album. At times during the aforementioned track the traditional UK folk music heritage is evoked alongside the Delta blues; shades of Martin Carthy popping over to Robert Pete Williams' place for a blast. "Peon," for guitar and bass duet, is darker, more intense and yet resolves itself in uncanny fashion (by no means the only composition on this record so to do) with the most gorgeous melodic finale. The other instrumental,"Japan In A Dishpan," closes side 1 of the vinyl and features breathless childlike saxophone over what a lazier reviewer than this one might deem a typically Beefheartian romp involving guitar, bass and drums.Talking of drums, the drumming herein is astonishing; from lightning-fast dense sheet-metal thrashing and pounding to delicate brushwork (as on"The Buggy Boogie Woogie") and all percussive points in between, propelling and complimenting the other instruments in furious and inspired fashion. The liberal use of marimba throughout provides welcome tonal/atonal varieties as well as highlighting the awesome musicianship. Opinions seem to be divided as to whether it's John French or Art Tripp (or a combination of the two, individually and/or together) featured herein; you decide. The absence of a second guitar on this record as a result of Jeff Cotton's departure is in fact scarcely missed; indeed the performances of Mark Boston and Bill Harkelroad, better known as Rockette Morton and Zoot Horn Rollo, executing their leader's uncanny melodic and rhythmic exercises in syncopation on bass and six-string guitar as only they knew how, are if anything more clearly defined than on Trout Mask Replica. One thing these ears didn't pick up was the contribution of Victor Hayden (that's right, The Mascara Snake!) to this record; if he's on bass clarinet duties again, I can't hear him. Or is that him in the background on "Flash Gordon's Ape"? (That's him on the front cover though; I'd know that face anywhere.) Anyway, correct me if I'm wrong, but this would seem to be the only Beefheart recording to feature a solitary six-string guitar, and the effect on the guitar/bass balance between left and right stereo channels in the mix is most gratifying to these ears at any rate. "Got me?"Although this record is so often linked thematically with its immediate predecessor, there are also those that would prefer to see it as a transitional album, incorporating degrees of both the free jazz influence and the more 'straight'(?) blues leanings of Trout Mask Replica and The Spotlight Kid respectively. Surely either view is a mite simplistic. This record has such character, force of purpose and individuality that it stands alone. The mood is dark and at times pessimistic, but personally I find that (a) with most Beefheart records and (b) not a problem at all. What I suspect a lot of people really latch onto in this music is the emotive aspect, the gut-wrenching sound of musicians who give a toss about stuff. For me, "Decals" has this quality as much as, if not more than, any of the other music made by Captain Beefheart, musically and lyrically:"It makes me laugh to hear you say how far you've come When you barely know how to use your thumb So you know how t' count t' one""Flash Gordon's Ape""The rug's wearing out that we walk on Soon it will fray 'n we'll drop Dead into yesterday""Petrified Forest"Pretty much your average Beefheartian quirky nonsensical surrealistic wordplay, wouldn't you say? Musically too, the approach is more direct and focussed than it seems at first; so many of the guitar and bass lines are simplicity itself, often involving only two or three notes, yet it's the counterpoint of the instruments, both harmonic and rhythmic, that's so initially unsettling. Arrangements vary in complexity from the startling and subtle variations of "Doctor Dark," "Bellerin' Plain" and "Space Age Couple" to the comparatively simplistic yet no less stunning backing on "I Love You, You Big Dummy" and "The Smithsonian Institute Blues (or The Big Dig)," to say nothing of tracks that combine aspects of both such as "Woe-Is-Uh-Me-Bop" and "I Wanna Find Me A Woman That'll Hold My Big Toe Until I Have to Go." Overall, the standard is nothing short of peerless.Despite the passion and commitment so deeply evident in both the music and the lyrics, the childlike element of play so integral to Don Van Vliet's way of thinking and looking at the world is never far from the surface on this record. The way in which "dinosaur's shoes" becomes "Dinah Shore's shoes" on "The Smithsonian Institute Blues (or The Big Dig)" is surely one of the finest puns of all time in the English language, never mind rock lyrics. When I first heard it, I had no idea who Dinah Shore was, being English, but still laughed out loud - and still do. The sly joy of "The Buggy Boogie Woogie", the malevolent exuberance of "I Love You, You Big Dummy" and the vivid sexuality of the title track and "I Wanna Find Me A Woman That'll Hold My Big Toe Until I Have To Go" all gloriously give the lie to the idea that this is a depressive, emotionally one-dimensional record. Far from it.Lick My Decals Off, Baby remains for this person at least (and I suspect for many others, too) one of the most multi-faceted and rewarding of all Beefheart's recordings. A serious record? "Of course, of course." All his records are serious, serious works of art some would say. Concerned, certainly, as he always was lyrically. But never less than riveting in its content and execution; despite personal reservations about the quality of "The Clouds Are Full Of Wine (Not Whiskey or Rye)" compared to the rest of the album, I have to say one less than wonderful track out of fifteen sure ain't bad. On certain other Beefheart records it'd be a stand-out track, but compared to the other tracks here the lyrical wordplay seems almost forced and lightweight, the music almost treading water. Oh, by the way, before I forget, the Captain himself pitches in with some superb harmonica and saxophone contributions (his playing on Bellerin' Plain" and "Japan In A Dishpan" ranks among his finest for me) as well as being in as good form larynx-wise as you'll hear from him anywhere.In conclusion, a wondrous record, and a travesty that it isn't currently available in any format in the UK at least. "Not even real music"? Well, pardon me, as BobMitchum says in the crap remake of CAPE FEAR, all over the place. -- Richard Mason, Perfect Sound Forever
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:00 (thirteen years ago)
another one george may like
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:03 (thirteen years ago)
306. CAMEO Cardiac Arrest (851 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #483 for 1977http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/647/MI0001647211.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1At2JNXviQaYBxqzcYoJdP
reviewby Alex HendersonIn 1977, one of funk's most promising debuts came from Cameo, whose first album, Cardiac Arrest, made it crystal clear that Larry Blackmon's outfit was a force to be reckoned with. If you were into hard, tough funk in 1977, it was impossible not to be excited by Cameo's debut. This excellent LP contains a romantic soul ballad ("Stay By My Side") as well as the original version of "Find My Way," which is the sort of smooth yet funky disco-soul that groups like the Trammps and Double Exposure were known for in the late '70s. But for the most part, this is an album of aggressive, unapologetically gritty funk. On classics like "Rigor Mortis," "Funk, Funk," and "Post Mortem," one can pinpoint Cameo's influences -- namely, Parliament/Funkadelic, the Ohio Players, and the Bar-Kays. But at the same time, these gems demonstrate that even in 1977, Cameo had a recognizable sound of its own. And ultimately, Cameo would become quite influential itself. For funk lovers, Cardiac Arrest is essential listening. Period.
In 1977, one of funk's most promising debuts came from Cameo, whose first album, Cardiac Arrest, made it crystal clear that Larry Blackmon's outfit was a force to be reckoned with. If you were into hard, tough funk in 1977, it was impossible not to be excited by Cameo's debut. This excellent LP contains a romantic soul ballad ("Stay By My Side") as well as the original version of "Find My Way," which is the sort of smooth yet funky disco-soul that groups like the Trammps and Double Exposure were known for in the late '70s. But for the most part, this is an album of aggressive, unapologetically gritty funk. On classics like "Rigor Mortis," "Funk, Funk," and "Post Mortem," one can pinpoint Cameo's influences -- namely, Parliament/Funkadelic, the Ohio Players, and the Bar-Kays. But at the same time, these gems demonstrate that even in 1977, Cameo had a recognizable sound of its own. And ultimately, Cameo would become quite influential itself. For funk lovers, Cardiac Arrest is essential listening. Period.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:15 (thirteen years ago)
My favourite Cameo album and one of the best funk albums. Absolutely essential.
that is one hell of an album cover
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Monday, 18 March 2013 22:18 (thirteen years ago)
(.)O_O(.)
so much nudity today!
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 18 March 2013 22:18 (thirteen years ago)
Flower Travellin' Band started it
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:22 (thirteen years ago)
next one up is shockingly low
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:25 (thirteen years ago)
more nudity too
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:26 (thirteen years ago)
Love that Cameo album. Word Up is their masterpiece but that is a close second.
― Kitchen Person, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:29 (thirteen years ago)
305. SANTANA Abraxas (858 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #17 for 1970 , #344 overall | Acclaimed: #210 | RS: #205http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZLEjF_k059I/T41whH5SSXI/AAAAAAAADvk/ScJ3lNpRI54/s1600/santana-abraxas-face.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0bu1AKIUayt8AwoBujfsTM
On the debut most of the originals were credited to "Santana Band"; this time individual members claim individual compositions. Can this mean somebody thought about these melodies (and lyrics!) before they sprung from the collective unconscious? In any case, they've improved. And in any case, the best ones are by Peter Green, Gabor Szabo, and Tito Puente, none of whom is known to be a member of the Santana Band. C+ -- R. ChristgauCarlos Santana is one of the three new guitarists who border on B.B. King's cleanliness. His only two contemporaries are Eric Clapton and Michael Bloomfield, but Santana is playing Latin music and there are no other Latin bands using lead guitars. The paradoxical thing about Santana has been their acceptance by a teenybop audience that digs Grand Funk and Ten Years After when they should be enjoyed by people who are into Chicago and John Mayall... -- Jim Nash, RS
Carlos Santana is one of the three new guitarists who border on B.B. King's cleanliness. His only two contemporaries are Eric Clapton and Michael Bloomfield, but Santana is playing Latin music and there are no other Latin bands using lead guitars. The paradoxical thing about Santana has been their acceptance by a teenybop audience that digs Grand Funk and Ten Years After when they should be enjoyed by people who are into Chicago and John Mayall... -- Jim Nash, RS
reviewby Alex HendersonThe San Francisco Bay Area rock scene of the late '60s was one that encouraged radical experimentation and discouraged the type of mindless conformity that's often plagued corporate rock. When one considers just how different Santana, Jefferson Airplane, Moby Grape, and the Grateful Dead sounded, it becomes obvious just how much it was encouraged. In the mid-'90s, an album as eclectic as Abraxas would be considered a marketing exec's worst nightmare. But at the dawn of the 1970s, this unorthodox mix of rock, jazz, salsa, and blues proved quite successful. Whether adding rock elements to salsa king Tito Puente's "Oye Como Va," embracing instrumental jazz-rock on "Incident at Neshabur" and "Samba Pa Ti," or tackling moody blues-rock on Fleetwood Mac's "Black Magic Woman," the band keeps things unpredictable yet cohesive. Many of the Santana albums that came out in the '70s are worth acquiring, but for novices, Abraxas is an excellent place to start.
The San Francisco Bay Area rock scene of the late '60s was one that encouraged radical experimentation and discouraged the type of mindless conformity that's often plagued corporate rock. When one considers just how different Santana, Jefferson Airplane, Moby Grape, and the Grateful Dead sounded, it becomes obvious just how much it was encouraged. In the mid-'90s, an album as eclectic as Abraxas would be considered a marketing exec's worst nightmare. But at the dawn of the 1970s, this unorthodox mix of rock, jazz, salsa, and blues proved quite successful. Whether adding rock elements to salsa king Tito Puente's "Oye Como Va," embracing instrumental jazz-rock on "Incident at Neshabur" and "Samba Pa Ti," or tackling moody blues-rock on Fleetwood Mac's "Black Magic Woman," the band keeps things unpredictable yet cohesive. Many of the Santana albums that came out in the '70s are worth acquiring, but for novices, Abraxas is an excellent place to start.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:30 (thirteen years ago)
Not shockingly low for ILM though..
Love that Cameo album. Word Up is their masterpiece but that is a close second.― Kitchen Person,
― Kitchen Person,
Word Up is my 2nd fave Cameo album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:31 (thirteen years ago)
They're such an underrated band. Word Up is one of my fifty favourite albums ever. Secret Omen, Alligator Woman and Cameosis are all really good too.
― Kitchen Person, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:33 (thirteen years ago)
Hopefully all of the people who click on this thread will check out all the funk like Cameo,Mandrill, Isley Brothers, Ohio Players, Parliament/Funkadelic/Bootsy and more.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:38 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, those are some of the best funk albums out there with hopefully plenty more to come. I'm wondering just how many P Funk related albums there will be in this list?
― Kitchen Person, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:41 (thirteen years ago)
304. YES Fragile (858 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #15 for 1971 , #228 overall | Acclaimed: #801http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/499/MI0002499438.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0dZF93WHyOhTWjz5EWM7yG
I certainly prefer Yes's rock-classical synthesis--in which tricky intros, swooping dynamics, and intense textures are integrated into a self-sustaining (and -propelling) electric framework--to ELP's flashy chopsmanship. "Round-About" is a triumph right down to its nature-mystic lyric, the rhythm players each contribute a viable composition, Steve Howe remains a marvel, and even the rearranged Brahms from new keyboard player Rick Wakeman is tolerable. But isn't there supposed to be more to art than great contrivance? B -- R. ChristgauThe sure and steady pace at which Yes has progressed through their four albums seems to suit them just fine, and in Fragile the fruit is at last beginning to ripen.Some problems remain, however: They're good and they know it, so they tend to succumb to the show-off syndrome. Their music (notably "Cans and Brahms" and "We Have Heaven") often seems designed only to impress and tries too hard to call attention to itself. Is anyone really still excited by things like "Five tracks on this album are individual ideas, personally arranged and organized by the five members of the band..etc." They've got it in them to do a lot more than provide fodder for those strange people who get it off to visions of keyboard battles between Rick Wakeman and Keith Emerson. Then too, with the nimble Wakeman and his many instruments, a guitarist (Steve Howe) who can finger-pick like the devil and, apparently, a wealth of collective imagination, they could inject at least a tad more variety into their work. As it is, most of the songs sound like variations on one idea rather than distinct entities sharing a common style.But make no mistake -- the Yes people have a lot to be excited over. Gorgeous melodies, intelligent, carefully crafted, constantly surprising arrangements, concise and energetic performances, cryptic but evocative lyrics -- when all these are present Yes is quite boggling and their potential seemingly unlimited.As in the opening "Roundabout," marked by a thick, chugging texture which almost imperceptibly accumulates, during deceptively innocent little breaks and fills, a screaming, shattering intensity that builds and builds until suddenly everything drops away but Wakeman's liquid organ trills, some scattered guitar notes and Jon Anderson's pure, plaintive voice: "In and around the lake/Mountains come out of the sky and they/Stand there." It's a tour-de-force, a complete knockout, and perhaps the most quietly devastating moment to appear on a record in recent memory.The heavily atmosphearic "South Side of the Sky" is also a grabber, a song that goes from full chorus and band (that's loud) to a segment that is nearly Oriental in its pristine simplicity -- just wandering piano, electronic swirlings and the whoosh of an icy wind. "Heart of the Sunrise" is the third extended cut, and it puts everything they've got into a wide-ranging and most impressive package which demonstrates that progressive (remember progressive rock?) doesn't mean sterile and that complex isn't the same thing as inaccessible.When it's all working, the music made by Yes is what the best music always is, a powerful and emotional experience. It's probably the first music to come along since some of the Kinks' older stuff that actually brings the beginnings of tears to these jaded eyes of mine. Don't be it can't happen to you. -- Richard Cromelin, RS
review[-] by Bruce EderFragile was Yes' breakthrough album, propelling them in a matter of weeks from a cult act to an international phenomenon; not coincidentally, it also marked the point where all of the elements of the music (and more) that would define their success for more than a decade fell into place fully formed. The science-fiction and fantasy elements that had driven the more successful songs on their preceding record, The Yes Album, were pushed much harder here, and not just in the music but in the packaging of the album:the Roger Dean-designed cover was itself a fascinating creation that seemed to relate to the music and drew the purchaser's attention in a manner that few records since the heyday of the psychedelic era could match. Having thrown original keyboard player Tony Kaye overboard early in the sessions -- principally over his refusal to accept the need for the Moog synthesizer in lieu of his preferred Hammond organ -- the band welcomed Rick Wakeman into its ranks. His use of the Moog, among other instruments, coupled with an overall bolder and more aggressive style of playing, opened the way for a harder, hotter sound by the group as a whole; bassist Chris Squire sounds like he's got his amp turned up to "12," and Steve Howe's electric guitars are not far behind, although the group also displayed subtlety where it was needed. The opening minute of "Roundabout," the album opener -- and the basis for the edited single that would reach number 13 on the Billboard charts and get the group onto AM radio in a way that most other prog rock outfits could only look upon with envy -- was dominated by Howe's acoustic guitar and Bill Bruford‘s drums, and only in the middle section did the band show some of what they could do with serious amperage. Elsewhere on the record, as on "South Side of the Sky," they would sound as though they were ready to leave the ground (and the planet), between the volume and intensity of their playing. "Long Distance Runaround," which also served as the B-side of the single, was probably the most accessible track here apart from "Roundabout," but they were both ambitious enough to carry most listeners on to the heavier sides at the core of this long player. The solo tracks by the members were actually a necessity: they needed to get Fragile out in a hurry to cover the cost of the keyboards that Wakeman had added to the group's sonic arsenal. But they ended up being more than filler. Each member, in effect, took a "bow" in mostly fairly serious settings, and Squire's "The Fish" and Howe's "Mood For a Day" pointed directly to future, more substantial projects as well as taking on a life of their own on-stage. If not exactly their peak, Fragile was as perfect a record as the group would ever make, and just as flawless in its timing as its content.
Fragile was Yes' breakthrough album, propelling them in a matter of weeks from a cult act to an international phenomenon; not coincidentally, it also marked the point where all of the elements of the music (and more) that would define their success for more than a decade fell into place fully formed. The science-fiction and fantasy elements that had driven the more successful songs on their preceding record, The Yes Album, were pushed much harder here, and not just in the music but in the packaging of the album:the Roger Dean-designed cover was itself a fascinating creation that seemed to relate to the music and drew the purchaser's attention in a manner that few records since the heyday of the psychedelic era could match. Having thrown original keyboard player Tony Kaye overboard early in the sessions -- principally over his refusal to accept the need for the Moog synthesizer in lieu of his preferred Hammond organ -- the band welcomed Rick Wakeman into its ranks. His use of the Moog, among other instruments, coupled with an overall bolder and more aggressive style of playing, opened the way for a harder, hotter sound by the group as a whole; bassist Chris Squire sounds like he's got his amp turned up to "12," and Steve Howe's electric guitars are not far behind, although the group also displayed subtlety where it was needed. The opening minute of "Roundabout," the album opener -- and the basis for the edited single that would reach number 13 on the Billboard charts and get the group onto AM radio in a way that most other prog rock outfits could only look upon with envy -- was dominated by Howe's acoustic guitar and Bill Bruford‘s drums, and only in the middle section did the band show some of what they could do with serious amperage. Elsewhere on the record, as on "South Side of the Sky," they would sound as though they were ready to leave the ground (and the planet), between the volume and intensity of their playing. "Long Distance Runaround," which also served as the B-side of the single, was probably the most accessible track here apart from "Roundabout," but they were both ambitious enough to carry most listeners on to the heavier sides at the core of this long player. The solo tracks by the members were actually a necessity: they needed to get Fragile out in a hurry to cover the cost of the keyboards that Wakeman had added to the group's sonic arsenal. But they ended up being more than filler. Each member, in effect, took a "bow" in mostly fairly serious settings, and Squire's "The Fish" and Howe's "Mood For a Day" pointed directly to future, more substantial projects as well as taking on a life of their own on-stage. If not exactly their peak, Fragile was as perfect a record as the group would ever make, and just as flawless in its timing as its content.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 22:46 (thirteen years ago)
303. MAN Be Good To Yourself at Least Once A Day (859 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #207 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/356/MI0002356460.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6H63XRFZChnj9UIlHUdKI9
Authenticated by one Jones (guitarist Micky) and one Williams (drummer Terry), this collective hails from Wales, where human life as we know it began eons ago. No great songs or great solos among these four tracks, but plenty of audible camaraderie--sounds like a cross between the Grateful Dead and the Quicksilver Messenger Service of eons ago, albeit steadier than either, which is too bad in the former case and a good thing in the latter. Upped a notch for historicity. B -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Richard FossThe only Man album recorded without Deke Leonard is something of a curiosity, a view of the band without the frontman who wrote most of their material. As might be expected, the vocals on this album are less accomplished and further back in the mix, but that is actually an asset in this case. Lacking their lead singer, Man proceeded to assemble their best instrumental set ever, and then to add sparing vocals more for texture than communication. The group interplay here is remarkable, with musical themes and ideas tossed from instrument to instrument with considerable creativity. The side with "C'mon" and "Keep on Crinting" is one long and intricate jam, and unlike most progressive marathons from the period, one doesn't wish for it to end even a second earlier than it does. The first cut on the next side, "Bananas," became a concert favorite for obvious reasons: it consists of four lines of silly poetry followed by nine minutes of inspired playing, then a repetition of the four lines of poetry. Tracks like that might almost be taken as a sneer at the idea that this band needed a singer at all, though the relationship with Deke Leonard was obviously cordial. After all, he contributed a "family jungle" of the band to the liner notes and was back for their next album. [Note: Fans of album art will cherish the LP version of this release, which featured an origami cover that folds out into a two-foot square map of Wales with humorous illustrations. Original releases in good shape are collector's items.]
The only Man album recorded without Deke Leonard is something of a curiosity, a view of the band without the frontman who wrote most of their material. As might be expected, the vocals on this album are less accomplished and further back in the mix, but that is actually an asset in this case. Lacking their lead singer, Man proceeded to assemble their best instrumental set ever, and then to add sparing vocals more for texture than communication. The group interplay here is remarkable, with musical themes and ideas tossed from instrument to instrument with considerable creativity. The side with "C'mon" and "Keep on Crinting" is one long and intricate jam, and unlike most progressive marathons from the period, one doesn't wish for it to end even a second earlier than it does. The first cut on the next side, "Bananas," became a concert favorite for obvious reasons: it consists of four lines of silly poetry followed by nine minutes of inspired playing, then a repetition of the four lines of poetry. Tracks like that might almost be taken as a sneer at the idea that this band needed a singer at all, though the relationship with Deke Leonard was obviously cordial. After all, he contributed a "family jungle" of the band to the liner notes and was back for their next album. [Note: Fans of album art will cherish the LP version of this release, which featured an origami cover that folds out into a two-foot square map of Wales with humorous illustrations. Original releases in good shape are collector's items.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:01 (thirteen years ago)
2 more for tonight
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:04 (thirteen years ago)
Christgau loves Big Fun, he can't be that bad.
― Damo Suzuki's Parrot, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:08 (thirteen years ago)
Biggest discovery from the list so far is that Penetration album. I don't listen to a huge amount of punk these but that album really hit the spot.
― Kitchen Person, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:13 (thirteen years ago)
302. LOVE False Start (860 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: DNPhttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fRCwpWqJ6LU/TdU72o2GVQI/AAAAAAAADqM/_k3NHI8a7M4/s1600/love+-+false+start+1970+front+large.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5Z8HWUWndd5e7Rq21WokaO
Fired on the opening cut by some lead guitar from special guest Jimi Hendrix, the first side is new funk at its best: complex, carnal, and crazy. Arthur Lee has never sung so soulfully, and while new guitarist Gary Rowles ain't Hendrix, he's willing to fake it. Side two gets poppier, with fey moments that aren't up to what Lee has accomplished in that mode before. But since that's as much as anybody, big deal. A- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Lindsay PlanerArthur Lee chose to keep the Love moniker alive after disintegrating the band's original incarnation. By the close of the 1960s, Lee was joined by a new lineup featuring a rhythm section of Frank Fayad (bass) and George Suranovich (drums), with Jay Donnellan (lead guitar) and then Gary Rowles (lead guitar) holding court as the band's primary stringman with the latter present on False Start. While the Lee-supplied material isn't his most memorable, one positive factor is the combo's consistency and cohesiveness. This can be traced back to Love having just completed a successful European tour and being able to collaborate with his longtime pal Jimi Hendrix, who not only helped Lee write the LP's jammed-out opener "The Everlasting First," but also stuck around long enough to lend his unmistakable southpaw to the recording. The track starts abruptly -- as if someone inadvertently jostled a power cord loose -- joining the action in-progress. Ostensibly, Hendrix's instrumental interaction is the impetus behind the number, but it is Lee's sorely underappreciated lyrical abilities that turn it into a bluesy love ballad. The catchy "Flying" typifies the early-'70s boogie that Jo Jo Gunne was able cash in on. Otherwise, it is pretty much fluff. Considerably more interesting is the heavier poppy (think the Raspberries) sound of "Gimi a Little Break" with engaging chord progressions that conjure up Lee's work on "August" from their previous outing Four Sail. The concert extract "Stand Out" -- a prime example of Love's aforementioned on-stage unity -- does just that as the spirited side was derived from the then-recent round of live dates that preceded False Start's creation. It's packed with a compact, hard-edged energy that could be mistaken for Grand Funk or even a mellowed-out MC5. Proving his uncanny ability to jump from genre to genre, Lee heads down-home for the countrified "Keep on Shining" with a chipper disposition somewhat undermined by Lee's ragged vocals. Like "Stand Out," the soulful "Anytime" is another reason for this project not to be dismissed. The quaint narrative "Slick Dick" is as anachronistic as the actual concept of hippies. Similarly, it substantiates how seriously the "counterculture" took themselves at the time. To a certain extent the same can be said of the compact "Love Is Coming" with hints of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young harmonies behind a sassy, upbeat melody. Rounding out the disc are the seductive rocker "Feel Daddy Feel Good," and the syncopated "Ride That Vibration" -- bringing to mind "You Set the Scene" from Forever Changes (1968). Perhaps this is a fitting nod back to Arthur Lee's undiminished skills as a composer, since it was the final song prior to the breakup of the band literally weeks after False Start was issued.
Arthur Lee chose to keep the Love moniker alive after disintegrating the band's original incarnation. By the close of the 1960s, Lee was joined by a new lineup featuring a rhythm section of Frank Fayad (bass) and George Suranovich (drums), with Jay Donnellan (lead guitar) and then Gary Rowles (lead guitar) holding court as the band's primary stringman with the latter present on False Start. While the Lee-supplied material isn't his most memorable, one positive factor is the combo's consistency and cohesiveness. This can be traced back to Love having just completed a successful European tour and being able to collaborate with his longtime pal Jimi Hendrix, who not only helped Lee write the LP's jammed-out opener "The Everlasting First," but also stuck around long enough to lend his unmistakable southpaw to the recording. The track starts abruptly -- as if someone inadvertently jostled a power cord loose -- joining the action in-progress. Ostensibly, Hendrix's instrumental interaction is the impetus behind the number, but it is Lee's sorely underappreciated lyrical abilities that turn it into a bluesy love ballad. The catchy "Flying" typifies the early-'70s boogie that Jo Jo Gunne was able cash in on. Otherwise, it is pretty much fluff. Considerably more interesting is the heavier poppy (think the Raspberries) sound of "Gimi a Little Break" with engaging chord progressions that conjure up Lee's work on "August" from their previous outing Four Sail. The concert extract "Stand Out" -- a prime example of Love's aforementioned on-stage unity -- does just that as the spirited side was derived from the then-recent round of live dates that preceded False Start's creation. It's packed with a compact, hard-edged energy that could be mistaken for Grand Funk or even a mellowed-out MC5. Proving his uncanny ability to jump from genre to genre, Lee heads down-home for the countrified "Keep on Shining" with a chipper disposition somewhat undermined by Lee's ragged vocals. Like "Stand Out," the soulful "Anytime" is another reason for this project not to be dismissed. The quaint narrative "Slick Dick" is as anachronistic as the actual concept of hippies. Similarly, it substantiates how seriously the "counterculture" took themselves at the time. To a certain extent the same can be said of the compact "Love Is Coming" with hints of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young harmonies behind a sassy, upbeat melody. Rounding out the disc are the seductive rocker "Feel Daddy Feel Good," and the syncopated "Ride That Vibration" -- bringing to mind "You Set the Scene" from Forever Changes (1968). Perhaps this is a fitting nod back to Arthur Lee's undiminished skills as a composer, since it was the final song prior to the breakup of the band literally weeks after False Start was issued.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:20 (thirteen years ago)
underrated album. The Everlasting First is great.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:28 (thirteen years ago)
301. TEENAGE JESUS AND THE JERKS Beirut Slump: Shut Up and Bleed (863 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #148 for 2008http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ChYW0SLOkU0/TksoJ8n_nSI/AAAAAAAAFnQ/EA8WXA9r1NQ/s1600/Teenage%2BJesus%2BAnd%2BThe%2BJerks%2B%252C%2BBeirut%2BSlump%2B-%2BShut%2BUp%2BAnd%2BBleed%2B-.jpg
review[-] by Mark DemingWhen punk rock first began making itself heard in New York and London in the mid-'70s, more than a few old guard rock critics and musicians (the sort who regarded Sgt. Pepper's as rock's greatest cultural touchstone) angrily dismissed the new music as mindless, pointless caterwauling from malcontented delinquents who couldn't play their instruments. Listening to Lydia Lunch's first forays into the underground music scene as leader of Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, it's not hard to imagine she and her co-conspirators set out to create a band that would live up to every criticism thrown at the first wave of punk. Teenage Jesus and the Jerks played music that was raw, minimal, and intentionally abrasive, abandoning conventional melodies in favor of a violent, rhythmic assault dominated by slashing, out of tune guitars, simplistic drumming, and in their earliest recordings, bleating saxophone from a pre-Contortions James Chance. But if Lunch's fierce howl was intended to drive off all but the bravest listeners, the ripsaw impact of her fevered tales of psycho-sexual torture were not likely to be forgotten by anyone who had the nerve to sit through them. Like most of their contemporaries on the New York no wave scene, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks were not destined to last long, and Shut Up and Bleed contains everything the group released in their less than two years together, along with some previously unissued live material and a few tracks from another Lunch vehicle of the day, the equally volatile Beirut Slump (which featured Lunch on guitar and Bobby Swope on vocals). It says a lot about this material that after more than three decades of noise rock that's followed in this group's footsteps, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks haven't lost their ability to confound and disturb; these recordings are the musical equivalent of a blunt instrument aimed at your forehead, and don't think for a moment this stuff wasn't meant to hurt. Shut Up and Bleed is brutal and uncompromising music not meant for the faint of heart, and there's no doubt that's exactly what both bands had in mind; this is a vital document of New York's no wave scene at its purest and most devastating.
When punk rock first began making itself heard in New York and London in the mid-'70s, more than a few old guard rock critics and musicians (the sort who regarded Sgt. Pepper's as rock's greatest cultural touchstone) angrily dismissed the new music as mindless, pointless caterwauling from malcontented delinquents who couldn't play their instruments. Listening to Lydia Lunch's first forays into the underground music scene as leader of Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, it's not hard to imagine she and her co-conspirators set out to create a band that would live up to every criticism thrown at the first wave of punk. Teenage Jesus and the Jerks played music that was raw, minimal, and intentionally abrasive, abandoning conventional melodies in favor of a violent, rhythmic assault dominated by slashing, out of tune guitars, simplistic drumming, and in their earliest recordings, bleating saxophone from a pre-Contortions James Chance. But if Lunch's fierce howl was intended to drive off all but the bravest listeners, the ripsaw impact of her fevered tales of psycho-sexual torture were not likely to be forgotten by anyone who had the nerve to sit through them. Like most of their contemporaries on the New York no wave scene, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks were not destined to last long, and Shut Up and Bleed contains everything the group released in their less than two years together, along with some previously unissued live material and a few tracks from another Lunch vehicle of the day, the equally volatile Beirut Slump (which featured Lunch on guitar and Bobby Swope on vocals). It says a lot about this material that after more than three decades of noise rock that's followed in this group's footsteps, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks haven't lost their ability to confound and disturb; these recordings are the musical equivalent of a blunt instrument aimed at your forehead, and don't think for a moment this stuff wasn't meant to hurt. Shut Up and Bleed is brutal and uncompromising music not meant for the faint of heart, and there's no doubt that's exactly what both bands had in mind; this is a vital document of New York's no wave scene at its purest and most devastating.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:35 (thirteen years ago)
I'll do #300 before finishing Up actually.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:36 (thirteen years ago)
Ok Lick my Decals is a bit too low but Fragile at 304 is perrrrrrfect
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Monday, 18 March 2013 23:42 (thirteen years ago)
300. FREE Fire And Water (866 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #63 for 1970 , #1828 overall | Acclaimed: #687http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/891/MI0000891369.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1hgW1wQNsca8iXUEmTFAUY
From sodden blooze to steady, unpretentious rock and roll in three progressively simpler--as opposed to easier--albums, climaxing with "All Right Now," a bone-crunching single you can groan along with. Recommended follow-up: a shortened "Mr. Big." Predicted follow-up: the already shortened "Fire and Water." B -- R. Christgau
reviewby Matthew GreenwaldIf Fleetwood Mac, Humble Pie, and Foghat were never formed, Free would be considered one of the greatest post-Beatles blues-rock bands to date, and Fire and Water shows why. Conceptually fresh, with a great, roots-oriented, Band-like feel, Free distinguished itself with the public like Black Sabbath and Deep Purple did (in terms of impact, only) in 1970. Free presented itself to the world as a complete band, in every sense of the word. From Paul Kossoff's exquisite and tasteful guitar work, to Paul Rodgers' soulful vocals, this was a group that was easily worthy of the mantle worn by Cream, Blind Faith, or Derek & the Dominos .
If Fleetwood Mac, Humble Pie, and Foghat were never formed, Free would be considered one of the greatest post-Beatles blues-rock bands to date, and Fire and Water shows why. Conceptually fresh, with a great, roots-oriented, Band-like feel, Free distinguished itself with the public like Black Sabbath and Deep Purple did (in terms of impact, only) in 1970. Free presented itself to the world as a complete band, in every sense of the word. From Paul Kossoff's exquisite and tasteful guitar work, to Paul Rodgers' soulful vocals, this was a group that was easily worthy of the mantle worn by Cream, Blind Faith, or Derek & the Dominos .
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 18 March 2013 23:45 (thirteen years ago)
nice albums to end the day with!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:02 (thirteen years ago)
I'll do a recap but it's gonna take me awhile.
ok! thanks!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:10 (thirteen years ago)
Thoughts on todays albums?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:45 (thirteen years ago)
the ordering from the beginning on here is completely baffling to me (probably a dozen albums i'd have thought top 100 material have shown up already), but such an overload of good stuff.
― hot young stalin (Merdeyeux), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:48 (thirteen years ago)
Caravan's The Land Pink and Grey is fantastic, that Beardo Cello guy was pretty interesting, Uriah Heep placed way too low (but that was yesterday)... Fragile is too low as well. Close to the Edge will hopefully get its dues.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:51 (thirteen years ago)
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:52 (thirteen years ago)
And I need to get myself a copy of Erkin Koray 2 and probably all Erkin Koray.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:53 (thirteen years ago)
Thank you for the recap Viceroy!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:55 (thirteen years ago)
the ordering from the beginning on here is completely baffling to me (probably a dozen albums i'd have thought top 100 material have shown up already), but such an overload of good stuff.― hot young stalin (Merdeyeux),
― hot young stalin (Merdeyeux),
haha yeah when I saw the results I was surprised too but nothings missing out as people are still checking out what has placed.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 00:59 (thirteen years ago)
Still looking for a volunteer to do a spotify playlist
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 01:26 (thirteen years ago)
my feedback: this is pretty much the coolest ilx poll i've ever participated in / read
― Mordy, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 01:30 (thirteen years ago)
It's still mindboggling to me that, in a case or two, an album could get 9 votes and still not make it to the 300th spot. There must be some serious consensus at the top or albums 100-1 are separated by only a few points.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 01:53 (thirteen years ago)
Mordy has a selectively curated playlist but I can't find the link admidst the albums.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 02:25 (thirteen years ago)
http://open.spotify.com/user/mordys/playlist/5LNUuTNe2ivHo3oT9xiB2u
― Mordy, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 02:34 (thirteen years ago)
thank youuuU!!!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 02:47 (thirteen years ago)
314. THOMAS LEER & ROBERT RENTAL The Bridge (828 Points, 7 Votes)
I voted f/this, but tbh the rec would've made a fantastic 7" of wired death-pop threshing:
Fade Away: http://youtu.be/eLifrCqoF5UAttack Decay: http://youtu.be/umzl6SWd1X8Monochrome Days: http://youtu.be/1fDO27h4DZA
― Hellhouse, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 02:49 (thirteen years ago)
Mordy I feel, based purely on your response to this poll so far, like you might dig the Las Grecas akbum I nominated but which has p much no chance of showing now. Its not on Spitify but there is a 2 disc retrospective that compiles most of their 70s output. I'll get back to u on the title but you shoukd be able to search them out under 'Las Grecas'
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 05:15 (thirteen years ago)
Sorry for crap spelling, I suck at touch screen
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 05:16 (thirteen years ago)
Gipsy Rock? I voted for it iirc.
― emil.y, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 11:41 (thirteen years ago)
Led Zeppelin III, Love It to Death and the Cheap Trick albums all get a 'too low' from me but there's a lot of good stuff here so far. That Caravan album was a last-minute addition to my ballot, only heard it recently.
― Gavin, Leeds, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 12:44 (thirteen years ago)
299. YAHOWHA 13 Penetration: An Aquarian Symphony (869 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #307 for 1974http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61VHnnPS4oL._SY300_.jpg
Peace ,Love, and Understanding my Arse!.....All those hippies were about was how to invent some pseudo-philosophy that will seduce young women into bed......and what happens then is pretty well summed up in the title of this lp.As awful as these misguided sexual predators and their victims were, they made grade "A" aural loonicy that is a shear delight......no-one is allllll bad. This record should have made history as the first music to be sectioned.The Gong sounds alone on "Ho" should be presented with an award for the best aural experience since Godzilla screeched his(or was it a her?) first gut scraping vowel sound."Yodzilla" seems an appropriate noun for that gong.'Penetration: An Aquarian Symphony' was intended to be Ya Ho Wha 13's masterwork, acting as a Merkabah of sorts to elevate its listeners to a heightened state of consciousness - & I must say, it does the trick!Take your meds and revel in the Outsider DIY joy that is "Penetration - an aquarian symphony"! (That Title!!!....ugh!.....Shudder!!!!)Track Listing:1. Yod He Vau He (11:25)2. Ho (5:32)3. Journey Thru An Elemental Kingdom (9:23)4. Ya Ho Wha (13:24)Personnel:- Father Yod / Vocals- Djin / Guitar- Sunflower / Bass- Octavius / Drums- Zinuru / Sound
Track Listing:1. Yod He Vau He (11:25)2. Ho (5:32)3. Journey Thru An Elemental Kingdom (9:23)4. Ya Ho Wha (13:24)
Personnel:- Father Yod / Vocals- Djin / Guitar- Sunflower / Bass- Octavius / Drums- Zinuru / Sound
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 13:44 (thirteen years ago)
Now listening to that Gary Wilson album, interesting stuff. Nearest comparison I can think of is Bobby Conn...
― Neil S, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 13:54 (thirteen years ago)
Way to put people off
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 13:58 (thirteen years ago)
ha I've always thought he's good fun, in an annoying art school performance kind of way.
― Neil S, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:00 (thirteen years ago)
similar to my feeling about John Maus FWIW (please don't sugban me)
Hurrah for this poll! I've had a pisser of a weekend & I'm doing a 12hr shift at work today so it won't get my full attention till tomorrow, but I can't wait to start checking some of these out. Have honoured the poll in my own way by being in a total FUNK for days. Also by not showering.
Black Moses too low, man! That was in the weighted portion of my ballot, which means it's a str8 10/10 classic in my book (hot buttered soul is an 11).
Also, I love the xgau reviews & find it hard to recapture the annoyance I used to feel when i read his dismissal of a record I loved. He cracks me up! What a great writer.
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:09 (thirteen years ago)
298. FAUST The Faust Tapes (879 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #157 for 1973 , #4782 overall | Acclaimed: #1956http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D_Y_Cb7NwZU/Tf4UEj1-ZAI/AAAAAAAABA0/x5P9huh04bY/s1600/FaustTapes_front.jpg
Although it's just a collection of various experiments organized semi-coherently, The Faust Tapes is most impressive in terms of sheer sonic invention. You never know what's coming next: an electronic mantra with chanting in a made-up language is followed by a tape collage of radio, kitchen sounds and someone climbing stairs. A moment later, almost-industrial electronics play over a funky rock beat. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Richie UnterbergerThis was the release that "broke" Faust to a British audience, mostly because of a marketing gimmick whereby the then-infant Virgin label sold it in shops for half a pound. Still, it's no mean feat to sell 50,000 copies of rock this avant-garde, no matter what the cost. A continuous 43-minute piece with about 26 discrete passages (which makes it hell to zero in on a specific bit on CD), it roams from crash'n'mash drums and fierce art rock jamming to rather pretty, if inscrutable, bits of folk-rock and spoken word, with odd shards of melody sticking out like glass in a tire. There are rough reference points to Zappa in the torrid editing and British Canterbury bands in the goofier, more rock-driven parts, but this is even less immediately accessible, taking a few plays to get a grip on, though most pop-oriented listeners won't get that far.
This was the release that "broke" Faust to a British audience, mostly because of a marketing gimmick whereby the then-infant Virgin label sold it in shops for half a pound. Still, it's no mean feat to sell 50,000 copies of rock this avant-garde, no matter what the cost. A continuous 43-minute piece with about 26 discrete passages (which makes it hell to zero in on a specific bit on CD), it roams from crash'n'mash drums and fierce art rock jamming to rather pretty, if inscrutable, bits of folk-rock and spoken word, with odd shards of melody sticking out like glass in a tire. There are rough reference points to Zappa in the torrid editing and British Canterbury bands in the goofier, more rock-driven parts, but this is even less immediately accessible, taking a few plays to get a grip on, though most pop-oriented listeners won't get that far.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:10 (thirteen years ago)
First Faust record I bought, still my favourite I think.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:16 (thirteen years ago)
Are you ready for some more Aussie rock?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:22 (thirteen years ago)
297. BUFFALO Volcanic Rock (881 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #50 for 1973 , #1386 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/421/MI0002421274.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
If you dig: Hard Rock, Black Sabbath. Dead Forever was a mere appetizer for the band's next fantastic album -- Volcanic Rock. The album, which was released in 1973, was ahead of its time in several years. Buffalo resurrected from a brief hiatus minus one vocalist, replaced its drummer, found its niche and exploded like a volcano spewing molten lava into the atmosphere in a monumental Hard Rock album. Slightly bluesy, slightly progressive, slightly psychedelic, this is the real deal--a brutal musical attack on the senses.The cover was even more controversial this time, when it described the body of a woman as a volcano and the lava streaming out as menstruation...a little tasteless you must admit. "Sunrise (Come My Way" starts the album with a menacing riff as Dave Tice, the band's sole vocalist now, rips his vocal chords in Heavy Metal's best tradition and does it in macho style like a man's man. The lengthy "Freedom" is characterized by slow deserty riff straight from the endless Aussie wilderness which allows Baxter to improvise on it later on. "Till My Death" is the only track in the album which rings the Blues bell and "Pound of Flesh" is again a trippy guitar improvisation on top of a simple bass line, but it serves as a preparation for the final blitz of the rockistic belligerence of "Shylock." As a continuation of their interesting musical interpretation to Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice which began in the previous cut, this is the song when the band lets it all loose, exploding like a dynamite, or alternately as an angry and hungry crocodile grabbing its prey violently, giving it a good shake and dragging it to the bottom of the swamp. Tice is bellowing in teh chorus in his deep voice: "Oh Shylock...Pay me now!" and dwarfs everything the young Heavy Metal genre has achieved thus far. The volcano has erupted, run for your lives! -- R. ChelledVolcanic Rock is the band's second and it is raw and heavy, essentially from start to finish, sort of like a cross between the debuts of Budgie and Black Sabbath, rudimentary of arrangement, fat and gluey of riff and rhythm, fronted with a smoky gruff vocalist that fit perfectly with the caveman metal of his backing track. The band did well as the first Australian Vertigo signing...unwittingly settling (like drying concrete) the blueprint, more than any other band including Sabath, for the sound of "authentic" stoner rock. 7/7 -- M. PopoffWhen the first three Buffalo albums were reissued by Repertoire eight years ago they were considered a “lost” band, despite the fact that they were the first Australian band to be signed by Vertigo records, which did their best to stir up hype by claiming Dead Forever… (1972) was better than Sabbath’s Vol. 4. That’s not fair competition, but they were certainly as good as Budgie. Volcanic Rock was their peak, belatedly considered a proto-stoner rock classic. Only Want You For Your Body (1974) is worth checking out too for the diverse but tightly wound songs. They released two more albums that unfortunately devolved into ordinary boogie rock after firing guitarist John Baxter and losing bassist Pete Wells to Rose Tattoo. -- Fastnbulbous
The cover was even more controversial this time, when it described the body of a woman as a volcano and the lava streaming out as menstruation...a little tasteless you must admit. "Sunrise (Come My Way" starts the album with a menacing riff as Dave Tice, the band's sole vocalist now, rips his vocal chords in Heavy Metal's best tradition and does it in macho style like a man's man. The lengthy "Freedom" is characterized by slow deserty riff straight from the endless Aussie wilderness which allows Baxter to improvise on it later on. "Till My Death" is the only track in the album which rings the Blues bell and "Pound of Flesh" is again a trippy guitar improvisation on top of a simple bass line, but it serves as a preparation for the final blitz of the rockistic belligerence of "Shylock." As a continuation of their interesting musical interpretation to Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice which began in the previous cut, this is the song when the band lets it all loose, exploding like a dynamite, or alternately as an angry and hungry crocodile grabbing its prey violently, giving it a good shake and dragging it to the bottom of the swamp. Tice is bellowing in teh chorus in his deep voice: "Oh Shylock...Pay me now!" and dwarfs everything the young Heavy Metal genre has achieved thus far. The volcano has erupted, run for your lives! -- R. Chelled
Volcanic Rock is the band's second and it is raw and heavy, essentially from start to finish, sort of like a cross between the debuts of Budgie and Black Sabbath, rudimentary of arrangement, fat and gluey of riff and rhythm, fronted with a smoky gruff vocalist that fit perfectly with the caveman metal of his backing track. The band did well as the first Australian Vertigo signing...unwittingly settling (like drying concrete) the blueprint, more than any other band including Sabath, for the sound of "authentic" stoner rock. 7/7 -- M. Popoff
When the first three Buffalo albums were reissued by Repertoire eight years ago they were considered a “lost” band, despite the fact that they were the first Australian band to be signed by Vertigo records, which did their best to stir up hype by claiming Dead Forever… (1972) was better than Sabbath’s Vol. 4. That’s not fair competition, but they were certainly as good as Budgie. Volcanic Rock was their peak, belatedly considered a proto-stoner rock classic. Only Want You For Your Body (1974) is worth checking out too for the diverse but tightly wound songs. They released two more albums that unfortunately devolved into ordinary boogie rock after firing guitarist John Baxter and losing bassist Pete Wells to Rose Tattoo. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaIn a genre hardly recognized for its finesse, Buffalo's second album, 1973's aptly titled Volcanic Rock, was about as raw as heavy metal got in the early 1970s (and its cover art's barely concealed eroticism sparked a controversy all its own, but that's another story). Of course, as those well versed in matters of hard rock and metal well know, all of its crudity was absolutely intentional. This seeming contradiction is both epitomized and explained by the Sydney, Australia combo's signature single, "Sunrise (Come My Way)," which boasted unquestionable melodic sensibility and expertly dangled hooks beneath the coarse leather surface of guitarist's John Baxter's earth-rumbling fuzz distortion, and singer Dave Tice's simultaneously warm, soulful, and, when needed, borderline ragged voice. Next track, "Freedom," pays peremptory lip service to the "think big" mentality of then ultra-popular progressive rock (and the band's prog-loving label, Vertigo), but never succumbs to the genre's arrogant self-indulgence. Rather, much as they do on the mostly improvised studio jams "Till My Death" and "The Prophet," the rhythm section of bassist Pete Wells (later of Rose Tattoo) and drummer Jimmy Economu plants its hooves into honest, proletarian blues-rock mud and stays put. Actually, the mid-album vibe almost gets too basic and laid-back come the unremarkable "Pound of Flesh," but any serious concerns are quickly crushed under the stampeding, LP-closing eruption of "Shylock," which introduces Shakespeare to Black Sabbath by way of Budgie and Steppenwolf) and brings Volcanic Rock's most distinctive and powerful qualities full circle for an explosive finale. And, as had originally been instructed on their debut album before being reiterated here, Buffalo's peculiar brand of Volcanic Rock achieved best results when played even louder.
In a genre hardly recognized for its finesse, Buffalo's second album, 1973's aptly titled Volcanic Rock, was about as raw as heavy metal got in the early 1970s (and its cover art's barely concealed eroticism sparked a controversy all its own, but that's another story). Of course, as those well versed in matters of hard rock and metal well know, all of its crudity was absolutely intentional. This seeming contradiction is both epitomized and explained by the Sydney, Australia combo's signature single, "Sunrise (Come My Way)," which boasted unquestionable melodic sensibility and expertly dangled hooks beneath the coarse leather surface of guitarist's John Baxter's earth-rumbling fuzz distortion, and singer Dave Tice's simultaneously warm, soulful, and, when needed, borderline ragged voice. Next track, "Freedom," pays peremptory lip service to the "think big" mentality of then ultra-popular progressive rock (and the band's prog-loving label, Vertigo), but never succumbs to the genre's arrogant self-indulgence. Rather, much as they do on the mostly improvised studio jams "Till My Death" and "The Prophet," the rhythm section of bassist Pete Wells (later of Rose Tattoo) and drummer Jimmy Economu plants its hooves into honest, proletarian blues-rock mud and stays put. Actually, the mid-album vibe almost gets too basic and laid-back come the unremarkable "Pound of Flesh," but any serious concerns are quickly crushed under the stampeding, LP-closing eruption of "Shylock," which introduces Shakespeare to Black Sabbath by way of Budgie and Steppenwolf) and brings Volcanic Rock's most distinctive and powerful qualities full circle for an explosive finale. And, as had originally been instructed on their debut album before being reiterated here, Buffalo's peculiar brand of Volcanic Rock achieved best results when played even louder.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:25 (thirteen years ago)
that Buffalo album is so great. it's really stripped-back and in-your-face, which just goes to emphasise how awesome the riffs are.
― charlie h, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:28 (thirteen years ago)
Xxxp oh for real emily? <3<3
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:30 (thirteen years ago)
Anyways, hooray fir Ya Ho Wha 13 making top 300, gives me hope for Peter Green
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:31 (thirteen years ago)
For all those people that bought that Faust album of all bits and parts, and stuff..
IT HAS "JAI MAL AU DENTS" ON IT!!!
A song to learn and sing for 7 mins!
― Mark G, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:32 (thirteen years ago)
.. "Rock Off!"
― Mark G, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:33 (thirteen years ago)
YHW 13 always a treat.
I guess that particular Faust suffered b/c of the others being more popular, not because it isn't great. I think I voted for all of them, or at least I should've done.
― emil.y, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:34 (thirteen years ago)
296. PATTI SMITH GROUP Radio Ethiopia (882 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #39 for 1976 , #2236 overall | Acclaimed: 2513http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/764/MI0002764837.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7jmAoRWQ9qUXtRXUOW2agu
It's priggish if not stupid to complain that Radio Ethiopia's "four chords are not well played." If they were executed with the precise attack of an Aerosmith, then they would not be well played. For although there's no such thing as an unkempt heavy metal record--technocratic assurance is the soul of such music--unkempt rock and roll records have been helping people feel alive for twenty years. When it works, which is just about everywhere but the (eleven-minute) title track, this delivers the charge of heavy metal without the depressing predictability; its riff power--and the riffs are even better than the lyrics on this rockpoet experiment--has the human elan of a band that is still learning to play. A- -- R. ChristgauWith Radio Ethiopia, the Patti Smith Group made an effort to drop Horses' clumsiness in favor of a more refined, organic sound and grander artistic pretensions. Smith plays a lot of guitar on the album, and producer Jack Douglas renders the proceedings with great seriousness. Tracks like "Ask the Angels" and "Pumping (My Heart)" have a nearly routine rock sound, made special largely by Smith's untrained but expressive voice and, of course, her highly individual songwriting. -- Trouser PressOn her second album, Patti Smith lays back, refusing to assert herself as she did on last year's Horses. The key is in the billing: on Radio Ethiopia, her group dominates. But while Smith can be an inventive, sometimes inspired writer and performer, her band is basically just another loud punk-rock gang of primitives, riff-based and redundant. The rhythm is disjointed, the guitar chording trite and elementary. Even at best ("Distant Fingers," for instance), the Patti Smith Group isn't much more than a distant evocation of psychedelic amateurs like Clear Light.Smith seems to lack the direction necessary to live up to her own best ideas — the song-poem structure of the first album wasn't completely effective, but here there's no structure at all. Even her lyric writing, the most captivating and polished part of her work, seems depersonalized — there's nothing as moving as "Redondo Beach" or "Kimberly" on this album. And if there were, one would hardly be able to hear it in Jack Douglas' overpowering mix.Smith obviously would like to be just another rock singer, with a band that could reach a broad, tough teenage audience. Ceding control to a band that lacks her best qualities and encourages her worst ("Pissing in a River" is only vulgar, without the transcendent quality of the earlier "Piss Factory") is hardly the way to go about it.But the most disturbing image on Radio Ethiopia is the picture on the liner notes of Smith gazing reverently at Harry Crosby's opium pipe: the false artist worshiped by the real. -- Dave Marsh, RS
With Radio Ethiopia, the Patti Smith Group made an effort to drop Horses' clumsiness in favor of a more refined, organic sound and grander artistic pretensions. Smith plays a lot of guitar on the album, and producer Jack Douglas renders the proceedings with great seriousness. Tracks like "Ask the Angels" and "Pumping (My Heart)" have a nearly routine rock sound, made special largely by Smith's untrained but expressive voice and, of course, her highly individual songwriting. -- Trouser Press
On her second album, Patti Smith lays back, refusing to assert herself as she did on last year's Horses. The key is in the billing: on Radio Ethiopia, her group dominates. But while Smith can be an inventive, sometimes inspired writer and performer, her band is basically just another loud punk-rock gang of primitives, riff-based and redundant. The rhythm is disjointed, the guitar chording trite and elementary. Even at best ("Distant Fingers," for instance), the Patti Smith Group isn't much more than a distant evocation of psychedelic amateurs like Clear Light.
Smith seems to lack the direction necessary to live up to her own best ideas — the song-poem structure of the first album wasn't completely effective, but here there's no structure at all. Even her lyric writing, the most captivating and polished part of her work, seems depersonalized — there's nothing as moving as "Redondo Beach" or "Kimberly" on this album. And if there were, one would hardly be able to hear it in Jack Douglas' overpowering mix.Smith obviously would like to be just another rock singer, with a band that could reach a broad, tough teenage audience. Ceding control to a band that lacks her best qualities and encourages her worst ("Pissing in a River" is only vulgar, without the transcendent quality of the earlier "Piss Factory") is hardly the way to go about it.But the most disturbing image on Radio Ethiopia is the picture on the liner notes of Smith gazing reverently at Harry Crosby's opium pipe: the false artist worshiped by the real. -- Dave Marsh, RS
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:40 (thirteen years ago)
295. GERMAN OAK German Oak (883 Points, 7 Votes) RYM: #350 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/032/MI0003032078.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0KxhIljUFCROTYJHJLCmic
Typical of the Düsseldorf industrial sound, but also with that manic percussive air of early Amon Düül, they were highly experimental, ignoring standard musical conventions, going for the jugular with an aggressive hard-rock and blues music. Their sole LP, which was issued privately in a very small edition and without proper covers, was recorded in an old army bunker and has an eerie mysterious presence, sounding almost like a Faust rehearsal session on occasions.Over the years a few people caught up with this obscurity, and eventually an ex-member of the band plucked up the courage to release it on CD, preceded by three unreleased archive recordings where they were even more extreme, with some nice use of distortion/overload and unexpected edits. -- Cosmic EggIn the strange Olympic summer of 1972, the Dusseldorf instrumental group German Oak entered the Luftschutzbunker, or Air Raid Shelter, in order to record their eponymous first LP. Following in the footsteps of the percussive and organic Organisation and the remarkable Dom, German Oak had every reason to believe that this 3rd LP to be recorded by a Dusseldorf band would be warmly received. Unfortunately, German Oak were not only wrong in their assumptions that locals would embrace their music, but even local record shops rejected all the group's attempts to sell the albums in city outlets. Such was their lack of success that 202 of the original 213 copies were stored in the basement of the group's organist until the mid-1980s, when a thirst for undiscovered Krautrock finally brought German Oak back from the dead.But what is the sound of a group that was so rejected during its time of recording? Well, imagine a brutally recorded, brazen and ultra-skeletal industrial white funk played with all the claw-handed crowbar technique of the Red Crayola recording their famous "Hurricane Fighter Plane," over which is superimposed the what-instrument-could-that-be rumblings of Gunther Schickert's G.A.M. meeting the Electronic Meditation incarnation of early-T. Dream. That is the sound of German Oak. Imagine Faust's reverb-y schoolroom in Wumme being party to a jam between Riot-period Sly Stone on itchy-scratchy bass and the pre-Kraftwerk ensemble Organisation (specifically "Milk Rock"), without their being formally introduced, and with all the hang-ups that this would entail. Again, this is the sound of German Oak.It is a strangely skin-of-your-teeth genius. It is a toe-curlingly heartfelt method acting of the most in-your-face kind. In places it's a sort of gormless Gong, even a moronic Magma - a Teutonic tribe standing in the ruins of some Roman temple, playing barbarian riffs on classical instruments too sizes too small. Aerosmith's Joe Perry once said: "When all you've got is a hammer, everything looks like a nail." He must have been listening to German Oak.With German Oak, what seems, after two minutes, to be a simplistic and worryingly trite riff, becomes, after 8 minutes, to be the only real-honest-riff-in-town. Like the legendary death-blues of Josephus' (also 16-minutes-plus) epic "Dead Man", this is music which does not hit you instantly in the face, but is an accumulative groove, building and building on the endless repetition of some bog-standard soul-type "Please Please Please" bass line or rhythm guitar sequence.1There is a remarkable space within German Oak's music, which may have been caused by their ultra-rudimentary playing, or may have been because they just listened ultra-attentively to each other as each player struggled for the notes. But, whatever the reason, German Oak conjured up a mythical sound in the grand Krautrock tradition. And as a quintet without a lead singer, they were a rare five-piece who never got in each other's way. Throughout the music of German Oak, the bass and the lead guitar are frequently mistakable for each other, until the fuzzy lead will slowly claw itself out of the sonic mire of sound and drag itself arduously and inelegantly to the top of the heap. The drumming is often furious and even overplayed, yet it is often the single constant of the group.Perhaps German Oak hit the nail on the head when they credited group members as the "Crew" and refused to give full names. Such was their sense of space that they often sounded like a trio and actually never like five people. Perhaps, like Can, they worked in pairs and recorded in parallel as opposed to one live performance. But somehow I doubt it. The recording quality and attention to sound separation is far too slack and haphazard. No, I'm sure the reason that the characterless "crew" credit sums up German Oak's attitude best, is because it conspires to make them all sound like the dwarves whose job it was to hold up the four corners of the Viking world-view. Separately they were nothing - together they were everything.Wolfgang Franz Czaika, here known only as Caesar, is credited with "Lead- & Rhythmguitar". The busy flourishes of insistent drumming are by Ullrich Kallweit, here known only as Ulli "Drums/Percussion". His brother Harry Kallweit, just known as Harry, contributes "Electric bass/voice". This leaves the tail-gunners' places to be filled by the wonderfully-named Manfred Uhr AKA Warlock on "Organ/fuzz-organ/voice" and Norbert Luckas AKA Nobbi on "Guitar/A77/Noises". And, like the simple Amon Duul 1 credits, the friendly nick-names make the group appear even more mysterious and out-of-reach.The German Oak LP consisted of two very long Krautgrooves, one on either side, with a short organ themed instrumental intro and outro at the beginning and end. Side One begins like a crusty hunt led by hunt saboteurs, as the one minute and fifty seconds of "Airalert" fades in from the mists of time with a hopeful and entirely amateurly recorded organ. Side One is then given over to the enormous eighteen-minutes of "Down in the Bunker", where feedback whistles and screams and factory interior-sized organ roars, whilst relentless hammering on metal suggests that the workers are in there building something over the din. Portentous manically-bowed cello-style film theme bass guitar and scraping cymbals rise out of the maelstrom to prepare the listener for the onslaught to come. Sonically, it is pure sound, like the primal intro beauty of G.A.M.'s 1976 album, or the pure sound of Guru Gurus's UFO, and the opening section of Ash Ra Tempel's "Amboss".As though recorded in a deep river gorge from beyond time with dozens of old fridges and cookers strewn across its banks, this proto-industrial sound truly invokes the ancestors. And it is perfectly understandable that German Oak's sleeve notes read: "As we played down there in the old bunker, suddenly a strange atmosphere began to work. The ghosts of the passed whispered." Far from being deluded, German Oak's crew are understating - for this track is alive with the dead, awash with a flood of ur-spirits from the recent past and the days of Yore. Banshee-like glissando guitars and Mani Neumaier-like voices creep up the north side of the track, mount the battlements and howl at us and the members of the group.Side Two begins with the reverb'd minor key horseback charge of "Raid Over Dusseldorf". The whole bulk of side two is taken up by this furious and rudimentary psychedelic ride, reminiscent of the Chocolate Watchband. Indeed, my friend and Brain Donor guitar cohort Doggen has suggested that it is the rhythm of the horse which heavy rock most often emulates. I would tend to agree with this assertion, as this rhythm can be found everywhere in rock, from the central spine of the Doors' "Roadhouse Blues" to the middle of David Bowie's "Width of a Circle". And I would even cite Robert Browning's 19th Century poem "How they brought the good news from Aix to Ghent" as an example of how pre-rock'n'roll this rhythm really is.The final track of the album is the 2-minutes short "1945 - Out of the Ashes", which returns to the organ-led hunting sound of the opening "Airalert" before cross-fading into the tolling of a lone bell.Though I am rarely a fan of extra tracks being added to CD reissues, we must count ourselves lucky in this case to have been handed the three superb pre-LP German Oak workouts located herein. The five-minute "Swastika Rising" sounds like the Plastic Ono Band meeting both Faust and Organisation; all rudimentary organ, splatter drums and a barely coherent and wandering psychedelic fuzz guitar. Following this, the ten-minute "The Third Reich" starts with a Hitler Rally speech, before slipping inside yet another hypnotic and insistently mesmerising teen Funkadelic groove with scything and Scythian psychedelic guitar. A brazen disabled lead guitar mindlessly scatters seedling riffs across an infertile field of unidirectional bass riffing and extremely formulaic drum fills, played relentlessly and robotically. The final extra track, "Shadows of War", is like an overladen Chinook helicopter struggling to lift off from its pad; the organ chords seemingly weighted down by the reverb'd wodges of clawed bass. Then another Hitler Rally cut-up sends us into a collage of over hasty milk delivery as an obligatory Stuka raid finally cuts us down in a single all-terminal bomb blast.2I noted in Krautrocksampler that the German postwar youth scene was trying to work itself free of its recent Holocaust history, and German Oak in particular seem to have wrestled with these demons for longer than most. Their sleeve-note dedication seems all-the-more poignant and moving for its bathos and poor translation:"We dedicate this record to our parents which had a bad time in World War 2." -- J. Cope
Over the years a few people caught up with this obscurity, and eventually an ex-member of the band plucked up the courage to release it on CD, preceded by three unreleased archive recordings where they were even more extreme, with some nice use of distortion/overload and unexpected edits. -- Cosmic Egg
In the strange Olympic summer of 1972, the Dusseldorf instrumental group German Oak entered the Luftschutzbunker, or Air Raid Shelter, in order to record their eponymous first LP. Following in the footsteps of the percussive and organic Organisation and the remarkable Dom, German Oak had every reason to believe that this 3rd LP to be recorded by a Dusseldorf band would be warmly received. Unfortunately, German Oak were not only wrong in their assumptions that locals would embrace their music, but even local record shops rejected all the group's attempts to sell the albums in city outlets. Such was their lack of success that 202 of the original 213 copies were stored in the basement of the group's organist until the mid-1980s, when a thirst for undiscovered Krautrock finally brought German Oak back from the dead.
But what is the sound of a group that was so rejected during its time of recording? Well, imagine a brutally recorded, brazen and ultra-skeletal industrial white funk played with all the claw-handed crowbar technique of the Red Crayola recording their famous "Hurricane Fighter Plane," over which is superimposed the what-instrument-could-that-be rumblings of Gunther Schickert's G.A.M. meeting the Electronic Meditation incarnation of early-T. Dream. That is the sound of German Oak. Imagine Faust's reverb-y schoolroom in Wumme being party to a jam between Riot-period Sly Stone on itchy-scratchy bass and the pre-Kraftwerk ensemble Organisation (specifically "Milk Rock"), without their being formally introduced, and with all the hang-ups that this would entail. Again, this is the sound of German Oak.
It is a strangely skin-of-your-teeth genius. It is a toe-curlingly heartfelt method acting of the most in-your-face kind. In places it's a sort of gormless Gong, even a moronic Magma - a Teutonic tribe standing in the ruins of some Roman temple, playing barbarian riffs on classical instruments too sizes too small. Aerosmith's Joe Perry once said: "When all you've got is a hammer, everything looks like a nail." He must have been listening to German Oak.
With German Oak, what seems, after two minutes, to be a simplistic and worryingly trite riff, becomes, after 8 minutes, to be the only real-honest-riff-in-town. Like the legendary death-blues of Josephus' (also 16-minutes-plus) epic "Dead Man", this is music which does not hit you instantly in the face, but is an accumulative groove, building and building on the endless repetition of some bog-standard soul-type "Please Please Please" bass line or rhythm guitar sequence.1
There is a remarkable space within German Oak's music, which may have been caused by their ultra-rudimentary playing, or may have been because they just listened ultra-attentively to each other as each player struggled for the notes. But, whatever the reason, German Oak conjured up a mythical sound in the grand Krautrock tradition. And as a quintet without a lead singer, they were a rare five-piece who never got in each other's way. Throughout the music of German Oak, the bass and the lead guitar are frequently mistakable for each other, until the fuzzy lead will slowly claw itself out of the sonic mire of sound and drag itself arduously and inelegantly to the top of the heap. The drumming is often furious and even overplayed, yet it is often the single constant of the group.
Perhaps German Oak hit the nail on the head when they credited group members as the "Crew" and refused to give full names. Such was their sense of space that they often sounded like a trio and actually never like five people. Perhaps, like Can, they worked in pairs and recorded in parallel as opposed to one live performance. But somehow I doubt it. The recording quality and attention to sound separation is far too slack and haphazard. No, I'm sure the reason that the characterless "crew" credit sums up German Oak's attitude best, is because it conspires to make them all sound like the dwarves whose job it was to hold up the four corners of the Viking world-view. Separately they were nothing - together they were everything.
Wolfgang Franz Czaika, here known only as Caesar, is credited with "Lead- & Rhythmguitar". The busy flourishes of insistent drumming are by Ullrich Kallweit, here known only as Ulli "Drums/Percussion". His brother Harry Kallweit, just known as Harry, contributes "Electric bass/voice". This leaves the tail-gunners' places to be filled by the wonderfully-named Manfred Uhr AKA Warlock on "Organ/fuzz-organ/voice" and Norbert Luckas AKA Nobbi on "Guitar/A77/Noises". And, like the simple Amon Duul 1 credits, the friendly nick-names make the group appear even more mysterious and out-of-reach.
The German Oak LP consisted of two very long Krautgrooves, one on either side, with a short organ themed instrumental intro and outro at the beginning and end. Side One begins like a crusty hunt led by hunt saboteurs, as the one minute and fifty seconds of "Airalert" fades in from the mists of time with a hopeful and entirely amateurly recorded organ. Side One is then given over to the enormous eighteen-minutes of "Down in the Bunker", where feedback whistles and screams and factory interior-sized organ roars, whilst relentless hammering on metal suggests that the workers are in there building something over the din. Portentous manically-bowed cello-style film theme bass guitar and scraping cymbals rise out of the maelstrom to prepare the listener for the onslaught to come. Sonically, it is pure sound, like the primal intro beauty of G.A.M.'s 1976 album, or the pure sound of Guru Gurus's UFO, and the opening section of Ash Ra Tempel's "Amboss".
As though recorded in a deep river gorge from beyond time with dozens of old fridges and cookers strewn across its banks, this proto-industrial sound truly invokes the ancestors. And it is perfectly understandable that German Oak's sleeve notes read: "As we played down there in the old bunker, suddenly a strange atmosphere began to work. The ghosts of the passed whispered." Far from being deluded, German Oak's crew are understating - for this track is alive with the dead, awash with a flood of ur-spirits from the recent past and the days of Yore. Banshee-like glissando guitars and Mani Neumaier-like voices creep up the north side of the track, mount the battlements and howl at us and the members of the group.
Side Two begins with the reverb'd minor key horseback charge of "Raid Over Dusseldorf". The whole bulk of side two is taken up by this furious and rudimentary psychedelic ride, reminiscent of the Chocolate Watchband. Indeed, my friend and Brain Donor guitar cohort Doggen has suggested that it is the rhythm of the horse which heavy rock most often emulates. I would tend to agree with this assertion, as this rhythm can be found everywhere in rock, from the central spine of the Doors' "Roadhouse Blues" to the middle of David Bowie's "Width of a Circle". And I would even cite Robert Browning's 19th Century poem "How they brought the good news from Aix to Ghent" as an example of how pre-rock'n'roll this rhythm really is.
The final track of the album is the 2-minutes short "1945 - Out of the Ashes", which returns to the organ-led hunting sound of the opening "Airalert" before cross-fading into the tolling of a lone bell.
Though I am rarely a fan of extra tracks being added to CD reissues, we must count ourselves lucky in this case to have been handed the three superb pre-LP German Oak workouts located herein. The five-minute "Swastika Rising" sounds like the Plastic Ono Band meeting both Faust and Organisation; all rudimentary organ, splatter drums and a barely coherent and wandering psychedelic fuzz guitar. Following this, the ten-minute "The Third Reich" starts with a Hitler Rally speech, before slipping inside yet another hypnotic and insistently mesmerising teen Funkadelic groove with scything and Scythian psychedelic guitar. A brazen disabled lead guitar mindlessly scatters seedling riffs across an infertile field of unidirectional bass riffing and extremely formulaic drum fills, played relentlessly and robotically. The final extra track, "Shadows of War", is like an overladen Chinook helicopter struggling to lift off from its pad; the organ chords seemingly weighted down by the reverb'd wodges of clawed bass. Then another Hitler Rally cut-up sends us into a collage of over hasty milk delivery as an obligatory Stuka raid finally cuts us down in a single all-terminal bomb blast.2
I noted in Krautrocksampler that the German postwar youth scene was trying to work itself free of its recent Holocaust history, and German Oak in particular seem to have wrestled with these demons for longer than most. Their sleeve-note dedication seems all-the-more poignant and moving for its bathos and poor translation:
"We dedicate this record to our parents which had a bad time in World War 2." -- J. Cope
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:50 (thirteen years ago)
I didn't vote for that Faust as I'm a fan of the band but don't really know the album (same with the Popol Vuh nom and quite a few other bands iirc). "J'ai mal aux dents" is on Tapes though, which I did vote for.
― aztec table rapper (seandalai), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:50 (thirteen years ago)
oh crap, that was Tapes. Ignore me.
― aztec table rapper (seandalai), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 14:51 (thirteen years ago)
294. GURU GURU Hinten (88 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #280 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/084/MI0002084620.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4b3uNDWQ2MRQEegNfGrPuh
“Soon the Ufos will land and mankind will meet much stronger brains and habits. Let’s get ready for that.”--P. Hinten (liners from Guru Guru’s first album, “UFO”, 1971)So ready, that instead of waiting one more year for Alien Starfleet Command to beam them up they set all their energies into priming a furious lift-off on their second LP, “Hinten.” This album expresses so much with so little it almost operates as the aural equivalent level of the Pioneer 11 plaque: designed simply for universal communication with any intelligent life forms it might come into contact with out there in space (namely: we’re located third stone from the sun, the human species come as a pair, and by the way: in peace, too.) Accompanying this plate on its flight into the great beyond was an etched metal sound disc and although I can’t remember what it was, it wasn’t “Hinten” but how I wish it was because it would be comforting to know that at least one copy of this album would survive earth’s inevitable termination five billion years from now and to think that out of all the albums ever produced on this planet, to have “Hinten” be earth’s sole sound representative (as well as just knowing that SOMEWHERE OUT THERE a copy of “Hinten” is floating around in permanent circulation) would be about as ridiculous and poetic as the record itself.“Hinten” was the second album by the three-piece Guru Guru comprised of: Mani Neumeier (voice, electric drums, cymbals, gong, contact microphone, kalimba, sounding being, zonk machine); Uli Trepte (bass, radio) and Ax Genrich (guitar.) And here they sound less lumpen/trudgin’ than on their stellar “UFO” LP but every bit as Frei-Rock and exploratory. But unlike “UFO,” “Hinten” exhibits a more flexible and plastic structure: it’s loose, yet tight. It’s free flowing, yet scripted enough to accommodate a freefall of freak outs and it allowed themselves all the space in the universe yet managing to combine together with such effectively precise riffing JUST off enough to allow all concerned to wander off the path as many times as they liked without leaving a trail of breadcrumbs behind AND NEVER GETTING LOST. There are also more vocals present here, but only if you can call murmuring song titles over ten-plus-minutes’ worth of an ensemble jumble of detuned, skittering guitars shrieking and groaning feedback with an overlay of contact microphone hi-jinks with jarring percussive strikes ‘vocals.’ And this was presented in a far clearer sonic image than ever before, courtesy of its self-production ably assisted by engineer Conrad Plank.Even though the performance was several notches up on the tightness scale from “UFO,” the chaos remained unchecked to an extreme because for all its pre-planned boundaries (which they wound up pushing through or just plain ignored for most of the time) the end result was a loose and gigantically sprawling, avant-proto-metal improvisatory monster that for all its audio strength caught the trio completely in the raw...And speaking of which, the cover’s got that, too. What cheek. And when I say ‘cheek’ I mean that literally cos it’s a four times repetition of a photograph of a guy’s backside with the word ‘GURU’ painted twice across his bared glutei. Although it seems a long way round to go just to riff off the album’s title, it did effectively scream “FREAK” before anyone got to hear it and the music sealed the whole deal with so many instantaneous stops-and-starts, false endings, guitar solos and outright freakery it both roots you to the spot and sends you off into a zone of anarchic mind-warp all at once. Makes you crack up at inopportune moments, too. “Electric Junk” is the explosive Magic Band-as-Blue Cheer introduction with a near-eleven minute long trawl through a variety of vistas from atonal noise to spaced quietude as it wends throughout a gauntlet of free form heavy rock that is almost claustrophobically too much at once, especially with Neumeier going whole hog by striking out all over the place at everything from cymbals, gongs, pangs and bells. He’s already overdone it all to death in the first 30 seconds of the album. But amidst Neumeier’s clutter of clatter it’s apparent they all are sucked into the eye of the hurricane as the two guitarists are just going for it frenzied and proper -- Trepte’s bass firmly grounded while Genrich’s detuned e-guitar electrifies most of the time with feedbacking and downstroking up a Fender storm while shaking it all down. Even though all settles into the first break, Mani does not settle while running down a list of ridiculous spoken German pronouncements while naughtily sneaking in random percussive pot shots throughout against Genrich mischievously turning his e-guitar spigot between on and off. They regroup to Rock it out some more until they fall into a patch of entirely becalmed space where Genrich plucks out quietly echoed notes against interstellar seagull-ing and Neumeier’s kontaktmikrofon spazz-outs that build in muffled cavernous moaning-ness. But this interlude has already flashed by quickly, rudely interrupted by re-entry into a proto metal bash full stop where Trepte’s bass the only constant as Genrich squawks and squalls up a storm while Neumeier’s precisely ramshackle percussives are full throttle. To confound all, “Electric Junk” decides to end. Suddenly.“The Meaning Of Meaning” follows gently as a twelve-minute mystery epic. The title is repeated and the rest of the lyrics are rendered in a near inaudible torpor over the overall horizontal-ness of the piece. The building starts slowly with Genrich’s guitar theme only to fall away back into that anticipatory “Sleeping Village” vibe of watching and waiting. It builds into a mid-tempo thrash as contact mikes scrape away at the sides of amplifiers and it will remain at this death throttle pace until the inevitable build at the end, where Genrich is stuck in second gear riffing with a repeating, electro-lurching theme like the burn out ending of Jimi’s “Voodoo Chile” on infinite repeat. Then it slips away.Side two is just as mystifyingly divided between the Dumbass and the divine as side one. With a megaphonic cry of “BO DIDDLEY...” the track of the same name sloshes up against the insides of your speakers and three times these two words are repeated on four separate occasions, brayed out as the entire set of lyrics and called out to a response of a descending group riff that intones with the drunken “How dry I am” with a “waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-WAAAA” as though musically sticking out its tongue a mile to razz all for this is Dumbass rock’n’roll scrawled with a capital “D,” and the fact that it doesn’t even sound like Bo Diddley (or Ellis McDaniels, neither) kills me every time; especially with that “Heartbreak Hotel” riff and Neumeier’s sizzlingly pulverised hi-hatting carrying on through the group trudge and his ever-flailing capabilities never flagging in its crooked path all around the beat and once the two guitarists reprise the main theme after extra-extrapolating the thing from A-Z and back again, they all fall back in as though nothing happened. The build at the end spins out Dervishly and builds to twin guitar shrieks and inevitable breakdown. “Space Ship” clocks in at eleven minutes and it’s here especially I’m often reminded that it was a pity Guru Guru shoulda/coulda (but didn’t) take it one step further by expanding “Hinten” into a double album just to let each of the four tracks expand and contract for the duration of a full album side. To have this sense of skittering throughout so deep, dark and weightless a space for longer than the segment included here does would just be beautiful. Because once the opening freak out/lift-off into the cosmos, it’s Guru Guru at their most chilled out: Genrich quietly plucks in wonderment, Neumeier attends to the contact mikes and Trepte’s bass line is hypnotic as interstellar bleeps and cosmic whispers abound and buffet their last transmission. Right before it slips into a freaky wormhole of much stronger brains and habits...Let’s get ready for that. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
So ready, that instead of waiting one more year for Alien Starfleet Command to beam them up they set all their energies into priming a furious lift-off on their second LP, “Hinten.” This album expresses so much with so little it almost operates as the aural equivalent level of the Pioneer 11 plaque: designed simply for universal communication with any intelligent life forms it might come into contact with out there in space (namely: we’re located third stone from the sun, the human species come as a pair, and by the way: in peace, too.) Accompanying this plate on its flight into the great beyond was an etched metal sound disc and although I can’t remember what it was, it wasn’t “Hinten” but how I wish it was because it would be comforting to know that at least one copy of this album would survive earth’s inevitable termination five billion years from now and to think that out of all the albums ever produced on this planet, to have “Hinten” be earth’s sole sound representative (as well as just knowing that SOMEWHERE OUT THERE a copy of “Hinten” is floating around in permanent circulation) would be about as ridiculous and poetic as the record itself.
“Hinten” was the second album by the three-piece Guru Guru comprised of: Mani Neumeier (voice, electric drums, cymbals, gong, contact microphone, kalimba, sounding being, zonk machine); Uli Trepte (bass, radio) and Ax Genrich (guitar.) And here they sound less lumpen/trudgin’ than on their stellar “UFO” LP but every bit as Frei-Rock and exploratory. But unlike “UFO,” “Hinten” exhibits a more flexible and plastic structure: it’s loose, yet tight. It’s free flowing, yet scripted enough to accommodate a freefall of freak outs and it allowed themselves all the space in the universe yet managing to combine together with such effectively precise riffing JUST off enough to allow all concerned to wander off the path as many times as they liked without leaving a trail of breadcrumbs behind AND NEVER GETTING LOST. There are also more vocals present here, but only if you can call murmuring song titles over ten-plus-minutes’ worth of an ensemble jumble of detuned, skittering guitars shrieking and groaning feedback with an overlay of contact microphone hi-jinks with jarring percussive strikes ‘vocals.’ And this was presented in a far clearer sonic image than ever before, courtesy of its self-production ably assisted by engineer Conrad Plank.
Even though the performance was several notches up on the tightness scale from “UFO,” the chaos remained unchecked to an extreme because for all its pre-planned boundaries (which they wound up pushing through or just plain ignored for most of the time) the end result was a loose and gigantically sprawling, avant-proto-metal improvisatory monster that for all its audio strength caught the trio completely in the raw...And speaking of which, the cover’s got that, too. What cheek. And when I say ‘cheek’ I mean that literally cos it’s a four times repetition of a photograph of a guy’s backside with the word ‘GURU’ painted twice across his bared glutei. Although it seems a long way round to go just to riff off the album’s title, it did effectively scream “FREAK” before anyone got to hear it and the music sealed the whole deal with so many instantaneous stops-and-starts, false endings, guitar solos and outright freakery it both roots you to the spot and sends you off into a zone of anarchic mind-warp all at once. Makes you crack up at inopportune moments, too.
“Electric Junk” is the explosive Magic Band-as-Blue Cheer introduction with a near-eleven minute long trawl through a variety of vistas from atonal noise to spaced quietude as it wends throughout a gauntlet of free form heavy rock that is almost claustrophobically too much at once, especially with Neumeier going whole hog by striking out all over the place at everything from cymbals, gongs, pangs and bells. He’s already overdone it all to death in the first 30 seconds of the album. But amidst Neumeier’s clutter of clatter it’s apparent they all are sucked into the eye of the hurricane as the two guitarists are just going for it frenzied and proper -- Trepte’s bass firmly grounded while Genrich’s detuned e-guitar electrifies most of the time with feedbacking and downstroking up a Fender storm while shaking it all down. Even though all settles into the first break, Mani does not settle while running down a list of ridiculous spoken German pronouncements while naughtily sneaking in random percussive pot shots throughout against Genrich mischievously turning his e-guitar spigot between on and off. They regroup to Rock it out some more until they fall into a patch of entirely becalmed space where Genrich plucks out quietly echoed notes against interstellar seagull-ing and Neumeier’s kontaktmikrofon spazz-outs that build in muffled cavernous moaning-ness. But this interlude has already flashed by quickly, rudely interrupted by re-entry into a proto metal bash full stop where Trepte’s bass the only constant as Genrich squawks and squalls up a storm while Neumeier’s precisely ramshackle percussives are full throttle. To confound all, “Electric Junk” decides to end. Suddenly.
“The Meaning Of Meaning” follows gently as a twelve-minute mystery epic. The title is repeated and the rest of the lyrics are rendered in a near inaudible torpor over the overall horizontal-ness of the piece. The building starts slowly with Genrich’s guitar theme only to fall away back into that anticipatory “Sleeping Village” vibe of watching and waiting. It builds into a mid-tempo thrash as contact mikes scrape away at the sides of amplifiers and it will remain at this death throttle pace until the inevitable build at the end, where Genrich is stuck in second gear riffing with a repeating, electro-lurching theme like the burn out ending of Jimi’s “Voodoo Chile” on infinite repeat. Then it slips away.
Side two is just as mystifyingly divided between the Dumbass and the divine as side one. With a megaphonic cry of “BO DIDDLEY...” the track of the same name sloshes up against the insides of your speakers and three times these two words are repeated on four separate occasions, brayed out as the entire set of lyrics and called out to a response of a descending group riff that intones with the drunken “How dry I am” with a “waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-WAAAA” as though musically sticking out its tongue a mile to razz all for this is Dumbass rock’n’roll scrawled with a capital “D,” and the fact that it doesn’t even sound like Bo Diddley (or Ellis McDaniels, neither) kills me every time; especially with that “Heartbreak Hotel” riff and Neumeier’s sizzlingly pulverised hi-hatting carrying on through the group trudge and his ever-flailing capabilities never flagging in its crooked path all around the beat and once the two guitarists reprise the main theme after extra-extrapolating the thing from A-Z and back again, they all fall back in as though nothing happened. The build at the end spins out Dervishly and builds to twin guitar shrieks and inevitable breakdown.
“Space Ship” clocks in at eleven minutes and it’s here especially I’m often reminded that it was a pity Guru Guru shoulda/coulda (but didn’t) take it one step further by expanding “Hinten” into a double album just to let each of the four tracks expand and contract for the duration of a full album side. To have this sense of skittering throughout so deep, dark and weightless a space for longer than the segment included here does would just be beautiful. Because once the opening freak out/lift-off into the cosmos, it’s Guru Guru at their most chilled out: Genrich quietly plucks in wonderment, Neumeier attends to the contact mikes and Trepte’s bass line is hypnotic as interstellar bleeps and cosmic whispers abound and buffet their last transmission. Right before it slips into a freaky wormhole of much stronger brains and habits...
Let’s get ready for that. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
review[-] by Ned RaggettGuru Guru's second album starts off on a chaotic note, but "Electric Junk" soon resolves itself into a full-on band jam and takes it from there, showing again that the band readily trod the fine line between merely skilled and truly inspired. There's always a nagging sense on this album that the group is but one step away from prog rock wank of the worst kind, but then there'll be a thick blast of righteous noise or a suddenly lovely dark chime that feels more Blue Oyster Cult than Emerson, Lake & Palmer, say. This can even happen out of nowhere, like the odd spoken word pronouncements interrupting the attempted drum solo on "Electric Junk" or the open-ended electronic moans and echoed calls during the floating midsection of "Space Ship." "The Meaning of Meanings" has the most "way deep, man" feeling on the whole album, as the title perhaps demonstrates, but even it has room for a rather bizarre midsection where the lyrics aren't sung or shouted as much as groaningly sighed over a slowly building full-band burst. Neumeier's drumming here is actually some of his best, while Genrich sounds like he's inventing some of Daniel Ash's feedback freakouts years in advance. The oddest number of the four mostly is such due to the name -- one would figure that calling a song "Bo Diddley" and clearly chanting the title at various points during the song would mean a full-on rave-up in the rock legend's vein. Anything but! There's enough of a smoky feel going on to suggest the influence the likes of Quicksilver Messenger Service incorporated, say, but a Diddley-beat workout this isn't, though there are a few game attempts here and there to try -- sort of.
Guru Guru's second album starts off on a chaotic note, but "Electric Junk" soon resolves itself into a full-on band jam and takes it from there, showing again that the band readily trod the fine line between merely skilled and truly inspired. There's always a nagging sense on this album that the group is but one step away from prog rock wank of the worst kind, but then there'll be a thick blast of righteous noise or a suddenly lovely dark chime that feels more Blue Oyster Cult than Emerson, Lake & Palmer, say. This can even happen out of nowhere, like the odd spoken word pronouncements interrupting the attempted drum solo on "Electric Junk" or the open-ended electronic moans and echoed calls during the floating midsection of "Space Ship." "The Meaning of Meanings" has the most "way deep, man" feeling on the whole album, as the title perhaps demonstrates, but even it has room for a rather bizarre midsection where the lyrics aren't sung or shouted as much as groaningly sighed over a slowly building full-band burst. Neumeier's drumming here is actually some of his best, while Genrich sounds like he's inventing some of Daniel Ash's feedback freakouts years in advance. The oddest number of the four mostly is such due to the name -- one would figure that calling a song "Bo Diddley" and clearly chanting the title at various points during the song would mean a full-on rave-up in the rock legend's vein. Anything but! There's enough of a smoky feel going on to suggest the influence the likes of Quicksilver Messenger Service incorporated, say, but a Diddley-beat workout this isn't, though there are a few game attempts here and there to try -- sort of.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:00 (thirteen years ago)
Now we know where Bowie's inspiration for the cover of The Next Day came from.
― Troughton-masked Replicant (aldo), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:11 (thirteen years ago)
293. ALICE COOPER Killer (889 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #37 for 1971 , #815 overall | Acclaimed: #845http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/323/MI0002323410.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3DtfU669sCj0uKjeNdGq22
A taste for the base usages of hard rock rarely comes with a hit attached these days, much less "surreal," "theatrical," and let us not forget "transvestite" trappings, which is why some desperate rock and rollers have convinced themselves their prayers are being answered. But while this is the band's most song-oriented LP, it falters after "Under My Wheels" and "Be My Lover," neither of them an "I'm Eighteen" in the human outreach department. And only one of the three "theatrical" extravaganzas, "Dead Babies," works on record (never mind in the theatre). B- -- R. Christgau...Mott-ish "Under My Wheels" and the Hoople-ish "Be My Lover." Ergo Killer cruises on two speeds: tight-fisted hard rock anthems vs. ever-lasting progressive symphonies of the noisy mind. Wedged in between like a cyst is a poisonous little number, "Desperado," which is the band's most seriously hopeless three and a half excruciating minutes ever, slithering along tucked below one of Alice's rare low register vocals...God damn though, this was 1971, making Killer state of the craft temporally, if not state-of-the-art, brutally metallic and astonishingly innovative on the psychological
...Mott-ish "Under My Wheels" and the Hoople-ish "Be My Lover." Ergo Killer cruises on two speeds: tight-fisted hard rock anthems vs. ever-lasting progressive symphonies of the noisy mind. Wedged in between like a cyst is a poisonous little number, "Desperado," which is the band's most seriously hopeless three and a half excruciating minutes ever, slithering along tucked below one of Alice's rare low register vocals...God damn though, this was 1971, making Killer state of the craft temporally, if not state-of-the-art, brutally metallic and astonishingly innovative on the psychological
reviewby Greg PratoAlice Cooper wasted little time following up the breakthrough success of Love It to Death with another album released the same year, Killer. Again, producer Bob Ezrin was on board and helps the group solidify their heavy rock (yet wide-ranging) style even further. The band's stage show dealt with the macabre, and such disturbing tracks as "Dead Babies" and the title track fit in perfectly. Other songs were even more exceptional, such as the perennial barnstorming concert standard "Under My Wheels," the melodic yet gritty "Be My Lover," and the tribute to their fallen friend Jim Morrison, "Desperado." The long and winding "Halo of Flies" correctly hinted that the band would be tackling more complex song structures on future albums, while "You Drive Me Nervous" and "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" showed that Alice Cooper hadn't completely abandoned their early garage rock direction. With Killer, they became one of the world's top rock bands and concert attractions; it rewarded them as being among the most notorious and misunderstood entertainers, thoroughly despised by grownups.
Alice Cooper wasted little time following up the breakthrough success of Love It to Death with another album released the same year, Killer. Again, producer Bob Ezrin was on board and helps the group solidify their heavy rock (yet wide-ranging) style even further. The band's stage show dealt with the macabre, and such disturbing tracks as "Dead Babies" and the title track fit in perfectly. Other songs were even more exceptional, such as the perennial barnstorming concert standard "Under My Wheels," the melodic yet gritty "Be My Lover," and the tribute to their fallen friend Jim Morrison, "Desperado." The long and winding "Halo of Flies" correctly hinted that the band would be tackling more complex song structures on future albums, while "You Drive Me Nervous" and "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" showed that Alice Cooper hadn't completely abandoned their early garage rock direction. With Killer, they became one of the world's top rock bands and concert attractions; it rewarded them as being among the most notorious and misunderstood entertainers, thoroughly despised by grownups.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:18 (thirteen years ago)
german oak above faust tapes is insane!
― wk, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:19 (thirteen years ago)
292 THE RUNAWAYS The Runaways (890 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #430 for 1976http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/669/MI0000669211.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Don't let misguided feminism, critical convolutions, or the fact that good punk transcends ordinary notions of musicality tempt you. This is Kim Fowley's project, which means that it is tuneless and wooden as well as exploitative. How anyone can hang around El Lay so long without stealing a hook or two defies understanding. Maybe it's just perversity--which would make it the only genuinely perverse thing about the man. C- --R. ChristgauOpinion is still divided on the Runaways' place in the musical universe. To many, they were the first all-girl (instrument-playing) rock band to matter, spiritual godmothers to the Go-Go's and Bangles, and seminal punk rockers to boot. Others see them as nothing more than a pre-packaged peepshow whose heavy metal-cum-glitter approach was dated from the very start. Here are the facts: LA teenagers Joan Jett (whose love of T. Rex and Suzi Quatro inspired her to learn guitar) and drummer Sandy West decided to form a band with encouragement (and eventual management) from Kim Fowley. The band that recorded The Runaways was a combination of raw garage-band playing and brassy, high-school-bad-girl sexuality typified by their unofficial anthem, "Cherry Bomb." – Trouser PressThis debut is understandably the worst of the band's four platters, evoking Suzi Quatro on Happy Days or Laverne & Shirley or whatever the hell that was. Basically a trumped-up ploy by sleaze-about-town Kim Fowley, sued by the band in '94 for unpaid royalties. b/ut hey, this is bonafide metal, uniformly if unremarkably heavy, dry, rudimeentary and boxy, sort of like Starz as huge Dictators fans but more so punks. Highlights: "Cherry Bomb" and "Dead End Justice," which are essentially the same song anyhow, cow. 7/4 -- M. PopoffWere the Runaways anything but 16-and 17 yeear-old females, their rather ordinary album would rouse nary a nod of recognition. That this much has been accomplished is surely more testimony to the presumed drawing power...RS
Opinion is still divided on the Runaways' place in the musical universe. To many, they were the first all-girl (instrument-playing) rock band to matter, spiritual godmothers to the Go-Go's and Bangles, and seminal punk rockers to boot. Others see them as nothing more than a pre-packaged peepshow whose heavy metal-cum-glitter approach was dated from the very start. Here are the facts: LA teenagers Joan Jett (whose love of T. Rex and Suzi Quatro inspired her to learn guitar) and drummer Sandy West decided to form a band with encouragement (and eventual management) from Kim Fowley. The band that recorded The Runaways was a combination of raw garage-band playing and brassy, high-school-bad-girl sexuality typified by their unofficial anthem, "Cherry Bomb." – Trouser Press
This debut is understandably the worst of the band's four platters, evoking Suzi Quatro on Happy Days or Laverne & Shirley or whatever the hell that was. Basically a trumped-up ploy by sleaze-about-town Kim Fowley, sued by the band in '94 for unpaid royalties. b/ut hey, this is bonafide metal, uniformly if unremarkably heavy, dry, rudimeentary and boxy, sort of like Starz as huge Dictators fans but more so punks. Highlights: "Cherry Bomb" and "Dead End Justice," which are essentially the same song anyhow, cow. 7/4 -- M. Popoff
Were the Runaways anything but 16-and 17 yeear-old females, their rather ordinary album would rouse nary a nod of recognition. That this much has been accomplished is surely more testimony to the presumed drawing power...RS
review[-] by Alex HendersonWhen the Runaways debuted in 1976 with this self-titled LP, aggressive female rockers were the exception instead of the rule. Women had no problem becoming folk-rockers, singer/songwriters or Top 40 icons, but female artists who had more in common with Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith than Joni Mitchell were hardly the norm. With this album, the Runaways made it crystal clear that women (or specifically, adolescent girls) were more than capable of playing intense, forceful hard rock that went directly for the jugular. Lusty classics like "Cherry Bomb" and "You Drive Me Wild" made no attempt to conceal the fact that teenage girls could be every bit as sexual as the guys -- a message that both men and women found intimidating. And on "Is It Day or Night," Cherie Currie sings about life in the fast lane with every bit as much conviction as Axl Rose would 11 years later. Currie and Joan Jett are equally riveting, and a 17-year-old Lita Ford was already an impressive guitarist. This LP was far from a commercial hit in the U.S., where timid rock radio programmers simply didn't know what to make of the Runaways. But interestingly, it did earn the band a strong following in the major rock market of Japan.
When the Runaways debuted in 1976 with this self-titled LP, aggressive female rockers were the exception instead of the rule. Women had no problem becoming folk-rockers, singer/songwriters or Top 40 icons, but female artists who had more in common with Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith than Joni Mitchell were hardly the norm. With this album, the Runaways made it crystal clear that women (or specifically, adolescent girls) were more than capable of playing intense, forceful hard rock that went directly for the jugular. Lusty classics like "Cherry Bomb" and "You Drive Me Wild" made no attempt to conceal the fact that teenage girls could be every bit as sexual as the guys -- a message that both men and women found intimidating. And on "Is It Day or Night," Cherie Currie sings about life in the fast lane with every bit as much conviction as Axl Rose would 11 years later. Currie and Joan Jett are equally riveting, and a 17-year-old Lita Ford was already an impressive guitarist. This LP was far from a commercial hit in the U.S., where timid rock radio programmers simply didn't know what to make of the Runaways. But interestingly, it did earn the band a strong following in the major rock market of Japan.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:30 (thirteen years ago)
YESS!! American Nights is my favorite track off this album. I love Queens Of Noise (it placed way earlier, yeah?) but this one's still my favorite
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:37 (thirteen years ago)
291. ISLEY BROTHERS Live It Up (891 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #236 for 1974http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/033/MI0002033423.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1CQczdXeAQCGWtjROKvPJ8
In which Ernie finally gets to make his studio album. What sound effects--the most technosoulful around. I mean, this guy isn't just whistling wah-wah. I do believe he likes Stevie's synthesizer more than Jimi's guitar, though. B – R. Christgau
reviewby Craig LytleOne of the many classic albums the Ohio natives recorded. This set features two up-tempo numbers: the title track "Live It Up" and "Midnight Sky." The former is a soulful funk track paced by a humpin' bassline, robust background vocals, and Ernie Isley's electrifying guitar solos. It checked in at number four on the Billboard R&B charts. The latter is a smoother dance number in which Ronald Isley's vocals go from a cool, calm delivery to a resolute clamor. It peaked at number eight. Both have lengthy vamps, ideal for parties. As for the romance, "Hello It's Me" and "Brown Eyed Girl" are two gems. "Hello It's Me" is the classic ballad. Ronald's melodic intro is mesmerizing as he finesses the lyric "hello," which sets the tone for this beautiful number. His artistic interpretation of the lyric is demonstrated without blemish. This song was formerly recorded by Todd Rundgren, who also wrote it. "Brown Eyed Girl" is a mid-tempo number that's seasoned with a folk-like guitar and the rich vocals of Ronald. Neither single was ever a release, but today both are radio regulars.
One of the many classic albums the Ohio natives recorded. This set features two up-tempo numbers: the title track "Live It Up" and "Midnight Sky." The former is a soulful funk track paced by a humpin' bassline, robust background vocals, and Ernie Isley's electrifying guitar solos. It checked in at number four on the Billboard R&B charts. The latter is a smoother dance number in which Ronald Isley's vocals go from a cool, calm delivery to a resolute clamor. It peaked at number eight. Both have lengthy vamps, ideal for parties. As for the romance, "Hello It's Me" and "Brown Eyed Girl" are two gems. "Hello It's Me" is the classic ballad. Ronald's melodic intro is mesmerizing as he finesses the lyric "hello," which sets the tone for this beautiful number. His artistic interpretation of the lyric is demonstrated without blemish. This song was formerly recorded by Todd Rundgren, who also wrote it. "Brown Eyed Girl" is a mid-tempo number that's seasoned with a folk-like guitar and the rich vocals of Ronald. Neither single was ever a release, but today both are radio regulars.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:45 (thirteen years ago)
The Alice Cooper review got cut off --
...psychological spectrum, if not axe-wise, Ezrin's mindspace being one of clean, behaved guitar tones from five years back, nowhere near Sabbath black. But man, Alice blew our brains all over the walls, and for that he deserves the fondest of nostalgic tributes. 4/7 -- M. Popoff
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
Weird that this finished above Go For Your Gunsxp
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
Man I thought I had all the good Isley albums, but apparently they just kept on rockin.
Sorry about the tease for the RS review of Runaways. I couldn't find a version to cut n paste and ran out of time to type it last night.
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:50 (thirteen years ago)
290. HENRY COW Unrest (894 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #96 for 1974 , #3552 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/108/MI0002108574.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Finally released in the States five years after it came out in Britain, this demanding music shows up such superstar "progressives" as Yes for the weak-minded reactionaries they are. The integrity of Cow's synthesis is clearest in "Bittern Storm Over Ulm," based on the Yardbirds' "Got to Hurry"--instead of quoting sixteen bars with two or three instruments, thus insuring their listeners another lazy identification, they break the piece down, almost like beboppers. Though the saxophone is still second-rate and the more lyrical rhythms flirt with a cheap swing, the band is worthy of its classical correlatives--Bartok, Stockhausen, and Varese rather than Tchaikovsky and predigested Bach. A- -- R. ChristgauThe first side of Unrest, on which Leigh was replaced by bassoon/oboe player Lindsay Cooper, is a substantial improvement, and contains some of the most full-bodied music Cow ever put on record. Cooper's sound steers the group away from the American jazz influence and grounds it more solidly in European art music, where a better time is had by all. The band's unique wit and invention are on full display here, from the audacious Yardbirds deconstruction ("Bittern Storm Over Ulm") to the somber starkness of "Ruins." Side Two presents the band's first (unfortunate) foray into the realm of musique concrŠte and, while not entirely worthless, isn't nearly as compelling as the three superior compositions that comprise Side One. (The ESD CD adds two bonus outtakes from the same sessions.) – Trouser Press
The first side of Unrest, on which Leigh was replaced by bassoon/oboe player Lindsay Cooper, is a substantial improvement, and contains some of the most full-bodied music Cow ever put on record. Cooper's sound steers the group away from the American jazz influence and grounds it more solidly in European art music, where a better time is had by all. The band's unique wit and invention are on full display here, from the audacious Yardbirds deconstruction ("Bittern Storm Over Ulm") to the somber starkness of "Ruins." Side Two presents the band's first (unfortunate) foray into the realm of musique concrŠte and, while not entirely worthless, isn't nearly as compelling as the three superior compositions that comprise Side One. (The ESD CD adds two bonus outtakes from the same sessions.) – Trouser Press
review[-] by Rick AndersonBy this point Henry Cow consisted of guitarist Fred Frith, drummer Chris Cutler, bassist John Greaves, keyboardist Tim Hodgkinson, and, of particular importance to the band's sound at this point, bassoonist Lindsay Cooper. As is so often the case with avant-garde rock & roll, it's the composed pieces that work best, and the fact that Frith is responsible for the majority of them is significant. "Bittern Storm Over Ulm" is an absolutely brilliant demolition of the Yardbirds' "Got to Hurry," while the brief but lovely "Solemn Music" unfolds in a stately manner with atonal but pretty counterpoint between Frith and Cooper. The improvised material succeeds in a more spotty way. "Upon Entering the Hotel Adlon" demonstrates how fine the line can be between bracing free atonality and mindless cacophony. The unsettling but eventually gorgeous "Deluge," on the other hand, shows how well Henry Cow could walk that line when they tried; in this piece, random guitar skitterings, scattershot drum clatter, and pointillistic reed grunts are eventually snuck up on and overtaken by softly massed chords and Cooper's gently hooting bassoon. The effect is startlingly moving. Overall, this is one of Henry Cow's better efforts.
By this point Henry Cow consisted of guitarist Fred Frith, drummer Chris Cutler, bassist John Greaves, keyboardist Tim Hodgkinson, and, of particular importance to the band's sound at this point, bassoonist Lindsay Cooper. As is so often the case with avant-garde rock & roll, it's the composed pieces that work best, and the fact that Frith is responsible for the majority of them is significant. "Bittern Storm Over Ulm" is an absolutely brilliant demolition of the Yardbirds' "Got to Hurry," while the brief but lovely "Solemn Music" unfolds in a stately manner with atonal but pretty counterpoint between Frith and Cooper. The improvised material succeeds in a more spotty way. "Upon Entering the Hotel Adlon" demonstrates how fine the line can be between bracing free atonality and mindless cacophony. The unsettling but eventually gorgeous "Deluge," on the other hand, shows how well Henry Cow could walk that line when they tried; in this piece, random guitar skitterings, scattershot drum clatter, and pointillistic reed grunts are eventually snuck up on and overtaken by softly massed chords and Cooper's gently hooting bassoon. The effect is startlingly moving. Overall, this is one of Henry Cow's better efforts.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 15:55 (thirteen years ago)
289. PAVLOV’S DOG Pampered Menial (899 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #108 for 1975 , #4498 overallhttp://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1gACOJn9L8Y/S73v8fxVRvI/AAAAAAAAAJU/MQT9F6iOeXQ/s1600/1974+Pampered+Menial+Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3jUD1HDM2akjSJXhmxo5fh
Pampered Menial was the first album from Pavlov's Dog, a band produced by Murray Krugman and Sandy Pearlman, the duo behind Blue Oyster Cult. The seven men in this group are revealed in the gatefold holding "Horace," a dog, while three engravings from 1849 by artist Robert Vernon make up the front, back and inside cover. Those paintings are striking, and though the music, mostly written by vocalist David Surkamp, tries hard, it just isn't as captivating as the package which surrounds it. Surkamp sounds like a chick singer, something that wasn't quite in vogue yet -- Journey and the Mickey Thomas Starship wouldn't happen for another four years, not until 1979, and even Thomas' hit with the Elvin Bishop Group was a year away, male vocalists were singing in lower registers at this point. With song titles like "Theme From Subway Sue" and "Of Once And Future Kings" the identity that a Blue Oyster Cult maintained was missing here. "Subway Sue" sounding very much like the 80s version of Mott, the band after Ian Hunter took his leave. If you thought Mott's high pitched vocals were out of place and annoying, check out Surkamp's strange warbling. The band itself isn't half bad. "Episode's mellotron, courtesy of Doug Rayburn and Siegfried Carver's violin, provide more than adequate sounds. Carver's sole composition, "Preludin," comes off as one of the best tracks, perhaps because it is an instrumental version of progressive rock that Triumvirat and early Journey were exploring, But when David Surkamp's vocals kick in again on the next tune, like Pavlov's experiments, it makes the listener want to break things, including this record. "Julia" is a mediocre lyric and ok melody, just destroyed by the vocalist who composed it. If this were an instrumental group, the music would be much easier to take. The band provides elegant rock, majestic drums by Mike Safron, additional keyboards by David Hamilton augmenting Rayburn's mellotron and flute, and solid 70s production from Krugman and Pearlman. Lead guitarist Steve Scorfina co-writes a beautiful piece with vocalist Surkamp in "Late November," but its perfection is marred by the whining sounds of the frontman. It is really sad, as there seems to be much potential here, drummer Michael Safron's "Song Dance" another highly creative number. A & R man Mark Spector had some kind of ears, what he was thinking here is anyone's guess. The solid riffs, the wonderful blend of sounds, all destroyed by David Surkamp's forced vocals which sound like some experiment by Pavlov gone awry. The Mott band from Shouting & Pointing infamy should have been put on a stage with Pavlov's Dog to see which act could clear the room first. "Fast Gun" is another solid progressive tune, but without the polish of a Brad Delp or Steve Perry, it just didn't stand a chance. Columbia Records should re-issue an instrumental version of this disc via their Legacy series, the music deserves it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:05 (thirteen years ago)
Sock votes.
― emil.y, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:06 (thirteen years ago)
lol are all their album covers variations of socks?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:07 (thirteen years ago)
They are, yes.
― emil.y, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:09 (thirteen years ago)
is that album better than Leg End?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:09 (thirteen years ago)
I don't much care for the sockmasters, but their work with Dagi means I cannot write them off entirely. I should give their other stuff more of a go again at some point, I guess.
― emil.y, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:10 (thirteen years ago)
288. ROCKET FROM THE TOMBS The Day The Earth Met The Rocket From The Tombs (960 Ponts, 7 Votes)RYM: #2974 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/339/MI0003339062.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6bP6a4AC6r7zWm0yjxvwzp
biography[-] by John DouganNot to be confused with San Diego-based alt rockers Rocket from the Crypt, Rocket from the Tombs was a mid-'70s Cleveland un-punk outfit best-known as the band that split into two better-known Cleveland punk bands, Pere Ubu and the Dead Boys. Rocket was formed by a reporter for the weekly Cleveland entertainment newspaper The Scene who went by the name of Crocus Behemoth. A portly man with a mound of wild hair, Behemoth had the perfect name, and a reputation as a wild, completely unpredictable stage performer, which in the early days of the group, consisted of wrapping his considerable girth in aluminum foil, wearing Kiss-style makeup, and spray-painting his hair. After numerous musicians came and went, Behemoth met Peter Laughner, a guitarist/songwriter who played at many of the same clubs as RFTT, as a member of Cinderella Backstreet, a now-infamous Cleveland band of which Pretender Chrissie Hynde was briefly a member. Laughner became a fan of Rocket and occasionally joined the band for a song or two. Before long, Laughner and Behemoth became partners, and with the addition of guitarist Gene O'Connor, bassist Craig Bell, and drummer Johnny "Madman" Madansky, Rocket from the Tombs became a fairly stable unit.Playing high-energy rock influenced by the Stooges and Lou Reed (Laughner's hero), RFTT made a name for itself in the Cleveland club scene, as well as opening for touring thud-rock has-beens like Iron Butterfly. The songs were sharp and acerbic, a worm's-eye view of an entropic Cleveland, an urban area that was then a dying industrial city. Songs like "Life Stinks" and "Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo" (both later recorded by Pere Ubu) were indicative of the boredom, anomie, and restlessness felt by the city's pre-punk punks. A mercurial band given to constant internal conflict, Rocket from the Tombs was a group always at odds with itself. One example was the Crocus Behemoth issue; outside of Laughner, no one else in the band could stand his singing (or non-singing, as the case may be). Compounding this were Laughner and Behemoth's arty proclivities, which clashed with the hard rock/heavy metal direction preferred by the rest of the band. In 1975, a scrawny, Iggy-worshipping kid from Youngstown, Ohio named Stiv Bators came to Cleveland and was tried out as lead singer, but he didn't last. Laughner, meanwhile, had met and become friendly with influential rock scribe and fellow gonzo Lester Bangs after sending Bangs a Rocket demo tape that he reviewed favorably for Creem. Soon Laughner was writing for Creem and traveling to New York for a first-hand look at the punk scene at CBGB's. Blown away by Patti Smith and especially Television, Laughner returned to Cleveland only to find that the issue of musical direction was tearing RFTT apart. Within weeks, the band was no more.BarflyLaughner and Behemoth (who at this point was going by his birth name, David Thomas) began Pere Ubu, while Gene O'Connor (then called Cheetah Chrome) and Johnny Madansky (then Johnny Blitz) had wisely remembered to keep Bators' phone number; they called him up and formed the wonderfully scuzzy Dead Boys. Laughner's time as a member of Pere Ubu was short, and by 1976, he was fronting a series of new bands, among them Friction, the Finns, and Peter & the Wolves. Despite this flurry of creativity, which included a good chunk of writing for Creem, Laughner was fueling a substance abuse problem that had reached critical mass, and by 1977, he was dead of liver failure at the age of 25. Both Pere Ubu and the Dead Boys went on to have respectable careers (Ubu more so than the Boys), but the sad legacy of Rocket from the Tombs is that of Peter Laughner, an extremely talented man who didn't live long enough to see his talent rewarded. Over 25 years after their initial demise, the surviving members -- bolstered by Television's Richard Lloyd, Laughner's replacement -- defied the odds by regrouping for an exhilarating June 2003 tour, documented on Rocket Redux. In 2010, this same lineup reconvened in Cleveland for recording sessions. The results were released a year later as Barfly.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:15 (thirteen years ago)
287. KING CRIMSON Larks' Tongues in Aspic (907 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #7 for 1973 , #183 overall | Acclaimed: #1857http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/084/MI0002084621.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
More appetizing than you'd expect--new lyricist Robert W. Palmer-Jones and new vocalist John Wetton add roughage to the recipe. But it's still the instrumental stuff that's worth savoring, and not only doesn't it cook, which figures, it doesn't quite jell either. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Bruce EderKing Crimson reborn yet again -- the newly configured band makes its debut with a violin (courtesy of David Cross) sharing center stage with Robert Fripp's guitars and his Mellotron, which is pushed into the background. The music is the most experimental of Fripp's career up to this time -- though some of it actually dated (in embryonic form) back to the tail end of the Boz Burrell-Ian Wallace-Mel Collins lineup. And John Wetton was the group's strongest singer/bassist since Greg Lake's departure three years earlier. What's more, this lineup quickly established itself as a powerful performing unit working in a more purely experimental, less jazz-oriented vein than its immediate predecessor. "Outer Limits music" was how one reviewer referred to it, mixing Cross' demonic fiddling with shrieking electronics, Bill Bruford's astounding dexterity at the drum kit, Jamie Muir's melodic and usually understated percussion, Wetton's thundering (yet melodic) bass, and Fripp's guitar, which generated sounds ranging from traditional classical and soft pop-jazz licks to hair-curling electric flourishes. [The remastered edition, which appeared in the summer of 2000 in Europe and slightly later in America, features beautifully remastered sound -- among other advantages, it moves the finger cymbals opening the first section of the title track into sharp focus, with minimal hiss or noise to obscure them, exposes the multiple percussion instruments used on the opening of "Easy Money," and gives far more clarity to "The Talking Drum." This version is superior to any prior CD release of Larks' Tongues in Aspic, and contains a booklet reprinting period press clippings, session information, and production background on the album.]
King Crimson reborn yet again -- the newly configured band makes its debut with a violin (courtesy of David Cross) sharing center stage with Robert Fripp's guitars and his Mellotron, which is pushed into the background. The music is the most experimental of Fripp's career up to this time -- though some of it actually dated (in embryonic form) back to the tail end of the Boz Burrell-Ian Wallace-Mel Collins lineup. And John Wetton was the group's strongest singer/bassist since Greg Lake's departure three years earlier. What's more, this lineup quickly established itself as a powerful performing unit working in a more purely experimental, less jazz-oriented vein than its immediate predecessor. "Outer Limits music" was how one reviewer referred to it, mixing Cross' demonic fiddling with shrieking electronics, Bill Bruford's astounding dexterity at the drum kit, Jamie Muir's melodic and usually understated percussion, Wetton's thundering (yet melodic) bass, and Fripp's guitar, which generated sounds ranging from traditional classical and soft pop-jazz licks to hair-curling electric flourishes. [The remastered edition, which appeared in the summer of 2000 in Europe and slightly later in America, features beautifully remastered sound -- among other advantages, it moves the finger cymbals opening the first section of the title track into sharp focus, with minimal hiss or noise to obscure them, exposes the multiple percussion instruments used on the opening of "Easy Money," and gives far more clarity to "The Talking Drum." This version is superior to any prior CD release of Larks' Tongues in Aspic, and contains a booklet reprinting period press clippings, session information, and production background on the album.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:25 (thirteen years ago)
286. MILES DAVIS Pangaea (908 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #58 for 1975 , #2425 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/057/MI0002057715.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0lYz13Pd1IYa7kZVoTUlN4
review[-] by Thom JurekThis is the second of two performances from February 1975 at the Osaka Festival Hall in Japan. This is the evening show; the Columbia release Agharta was the afternoon show. Pangaea is comprised of two tracks, "Zimbabwe" and "Gondwana." Each is divided into two parts. The band here is comprised of Sonny Fortune on saxophones, Pete Cosey (who also played synth) and Reggie Lucas on guitars, Michael Henderson on bass, Al Foster on drums, James Mtume on percussion, and Davis on trumpet and organ. The band, no doubt inspired by their amazing performance earlier in the day, comes out swinging, and I mean like Muhammad Ali, not Benny Goodman. This is a take-no-prisoners set. Davis seems to be pushing an agenda of "What the hell is melody and harmony? And bring on the funk -- and while you're at it, Pete, play the hell outta that guitar. More drums!" If there is anything that's consistent in this free-for-all, as everybody interacts with everyone else in an almighty dirty groove & roll while improv is at an all-time high, it's the rhythmic, or should we emphasize "polyrhythmic," invention. Mtume and Foster are monstrous in moving this murky jam session along ("Zimbabwe" is one set, and "Gondwana" is the second of the evening) some surreal lines. When Cosey's not ripping the pickups out of his guitar, he's adding his hands to various percussion instruments in the pursuit of the all-powerful Miles Davis' inflected voodoo funk. And while it's true that this set is as relentless as the Agharta issue, it's not quite as successful, though it's plenty satisfying. The reason is simple: the dynamic and dramatic tensions of the afternoon session could never have been replicated, they were based on all conditions being right. Here, while the moods and textures are carried and the flow is quite free, the dramatic tension is not as present; the mood is not quite so dark. And while the playing of certain individuals here may be better than it is on Agharta, the band's playing isn't quite at that level. That said, this is still an essential Miles Davis live record and will melt your mind just as easily as Agharta. People would complain on this tour that Davis played with his back to the audience a lot -- Lester Bangs went so far as to say he hated his guts for it. But if you were this focused on creating a noise so hideously beautiful from thin air, you might not have time to socialize either.
This is the second of two performances from February 1975 at the Osaka Festival Hall in Japan. This is the evening show; the Columbia release Agharta was the afternoon show. Pangaea is comprised of two tracks, "Zimbabwe" and "Gondwana." Each is divided into two parts. The band here is comprised of Sonny Fortune on saxophones, Pete Cosey (who also played synth) and Reggie Lucas on guitars, Michael Henderson on bass, Al Foster on drums, James Mtume on percussion, and Davis on trumpet and organ. The band, no doubt inspired by their amazing performance earlier in the day, comes out swinging, and I mean like Muhammad Ali, not Benny Goodman. This is a take-no-prisoners set. Davis seems to be pushing an agenda of "What the hell is melody and harmony? And bring on the funk -- and while you're at it, Pete, play the hell outta that guitar. More drums!" If there is anything that's consistent in this free-for-all, as everybody interacts with everyone else in an almighty dirty groove & roll while improv is at an all-time high, it's the rhythmic, or should we emphasize "polyrhythmic," invention. Mtume and Foster are monstrous in moving this murky jam session along ("Zimbabwe" is one set, and "Gondwana" is the second of the evening) some surreal lines. When Cosey's not ripping the pickups out of his guitar, he's adding his hands to various percussion instruments in the pursuit of the all-powerful Miles Davis' inflected voodoo funk. And while it's true that this set is as relentless as the Agharta issue, it's not quite as successful, though it's plenty satisfying. The reason is simple: the dynamic and dramatic tensions of the afternoon session could never have been replicated, they were based on all conditions being right. Here, while the moods and textures are carried and the flow is quite free, the dramatic tension is not as present; the mood is not quite so dark. And while the playing of certain individuals here may be better than it is on Agharta, the band's playing isn't quite at that level. That said, this is still an essential Miles Davis live record and will melt your mind just as easily as Agharta. People would complain on this tour that Davis played with his back to the audience a lot -- Lester Bangs went so far as to say he hated his guts for it. But if you were this focused on creating a noise so hideously beautiful from thin air, you might not have time to socialize either.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:35 (thirteen years ago)
Dont forget to vote in POLLIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET (ILM artist poll #32 voting thread)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:36 (thirteen years ago)
285. BLUE ÖYSTER CULT Agents of Fortune (909 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #196 for 1976 | Acclaimed: #1542http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/887/MI0001887527.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/23SYuUFygqOTPAhLjaSMa9
review[-] by Thom JurekIf ever there were a manifesto for 1970s rock, one that prefigured both the decadence of the decade's burgeoning heavy metal and prog rock excesses and the rage of punk rock, "This Ain't the Summer of Love," the opening track from Agents of Fortune, Blue Öyster Cult's fourth album, was it. The irony was that while the cut itself came down firmly on the hard rock side of the fence, most of the rest of the album didn't. Agents of Fortune was co-produced by longtime Cult record boss Sandy Pearlman, Murray Krugman, and newcomer David Lucas, and in addition, the band's lyric writing was being done internally with help from poet-cum-rocker Patti Smith (who also sings on "The Revenge of Vera Gemini"). Pearlman, a major contributor to the band's songwriting output, received a solitary credit while critic Richard Meltzer, whose words were prevalent on the Cult's previous outings, was absent. The album yielded the band's biggest single with "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," a multi-textured, deeply melodic soft rock song with psychedelic overtones, written by guitarist Donald "Buck Dharma" Roeser. The rest of the album is ambitious in that it all but tosses aside the Cult's proto-metal stance and instead recontextualizes their entire stance. It's still dark, mysterious, and creepy, and perhaps even more so, it's still rooted in rock posturing and excess, but gone is the nihilistic biker boogie in favor of a more tempered -- indeed, nearly pop arena rock -- sound that gave Allen Lanier's keyboards parity with Dharma's guitar roar, as evidenced by "E.T.I.," "Debbie Denise," and "True Confessions." This is not to say that the Cult abandoned their adrenaline rock sound entirely. Cuts like "Tattoo Vampire" and "Sinful Love" have plenty of feral wail in them. Ultimately, Agents of Fortune is a solid record, albeit a startling one for fans of the band's earlier sound. It also sounds like one of restless inspiration, which is, in fact, what it turned out to be given the recordings that came after. It turned out to be the Cult's last consistent effort until they released Fire of Unknown Origin in 1981.
If ever there were a manifesto for 1970s rock, one that prefigured both the decadence of the decade's burgeoning heavy metal and prog rock excesses and the rage of punk rock, "This Ain't the Summer of Love," the opening track from Agents of Fortune, Blue Öyster Cult's fourth album, was it. The irony was that while the cut itself came down firmly on the hard rock side of the fence, most of the rest of the album didn't. Agents of Fortune was co-produced by longtime Cult record boss Sandy Pearlman, Murray Krugman, and newcomer David Lucas, and in addition, the band's lyric writing was being done internally with help from poet-cum-rocker Patti Smith (who also sings on "The Revenge of Vera Gemini"). Pearlman, a major contributor to the band's songwriting output, received a solitary credit while critic Richard Meltzer, whose words were prevalent on the Cult's previous outings, was absent. The album yielded the band's biggest single with "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," a multi-textured, deeply melodic soft rock song with psychedelic overtones, written by guitarist Donald "Buck Dharma" Roeser. The rest of the album is ambitious in that it all but tosses aside the Cult's proto-metal stance and instead recontextualizes their entire stance. It's still dark, mysterious, and creepy, and perhaps even more so, it's still rooted in rock posturing and excess, but gone is the nihilistic biker boogie in favor of a more tempered -- indeed, nearly pop arena rock -- sound that gave Allen Lanier's keyboards parity with Dharma's guitar roar, as evidenced by "E.T.I.," "Debbie Denise," and "True Confessions." This is not to say that the Cult abandoned their adrenaline rock sound entirely. Cuts like "Tattoo Vampire" and "Sinful Love" have plenty of feral wail in them. Ultimately, Agents of Fortune is a solid record, albeit a startling one for fans of the band's earlier sound. It also sounds like one of restless inspiration, which is, in fact, what it turned out to be given the recordings that came after. It turned out to be the Cult's last consistent effort until they released Fire of Unknown Origin in 1981.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 16:53 (thirteen years ago)
284. TUBEWAY ARMY Tubeway Army (915 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #244 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/164/MI0000164687.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0P30w7yKo5aAGfHp8mkDQZ
Gary Numan (Webb) originally rose to UK prominence in 1979 with a frigid synthesizer dance hit, "Are 'Friends' Electric?" His basic sound — subsequently very influential in the dance music and new romantic spheres — began with precise, antiseptic synth handling much of the instrumental work, topped off with lobotomized deadpan vocals singing science-fiction lyrics. His first album, Tubeway Army (released in America three years later as First Album), features primitive electronics and production that show some flair, though guitars dominate and compositions are locked into the three-minute post-punk structure. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Greg PratoThe classic self-titled debut by Gary Numan's Tubeway Army was finally reissued by Beggars Banquet, who have done a masterful job remastering the tracks and adding a live set from 1978 as a bonus. In the past, many have felt that Numan's debut disc didn't measure up to his later triumphs (1979's Replicas, 1980's Telekon, etc.), but listening to it today, you discover that it's the most underrated of all his early albums. Numan & the Tubeway Army were one of the first new wave/punk bands (along with Kraftwerk and Devo) to successfully fuse robotic synthesizers with rock & roll. Gary Numan's guitar riffing is more prominent here than on any other of his albums, which gives the tunes a splendid Ziggy Stardust feel at times. Kicking things off with several strong compositions -- "Listen to the Sirens," "The Life Machine," and "Friends" -- the album sags momentarily in the middle ("My Love Is Liquid"), but soon returns to its high standards with "Are You Real?" and "Jo the Waiter." The reissue of Tubeway Army wraps up with the 13-track Living Ornaments '78: Live at the Roxy set, which was previously released only as a bootleg. Although lo-fi, it's an audience recording containing songs that didn't make it to the debut. [Note: In addition to bonus tracks, all of the Gary Numan/Begggars Banquet re-releases contain classic photographs and informative liner notes by Numan biographer Steve Malins.]
The classic self-titled debut by Gary Numan's Tubeway Army was finally reissued by Beggars Banquet, who have done a masterful job remastering the tracks and adding a live set from 1978 as a bonus. In the past, many have felt that Numan's debut disc didn't measure up to his later triumphs (1979's Replicas, 1980's Telekon, etc.), but listening to it today, you discover that it's the most underrated of all his early albums. Numan & the Tubeway Army were one of the first new wave/punk bands (along with Kraftwerk and Devo) to successfully fuse robotic synthesizers with rock & roll. Gary Numan's guitar riffing is more prominent here than on any other of his albums, which gives the tunes a splendid Ziggy Stardust feel at times. Kicking things off with several strong compositions -- "Listen to the Sirens," "The Life Machine," and "Friends" -- the album sags momentarily in the middle ("My Love Is Liquid"), but soon returns to its high standards with "Are You Real?" and "Jo the Waiter." The reissue of Tubeway Army wraps up with the 13-track Living Ornaments '78: Live at the Roxy set, which was previously released only as a bootleg. Although lo-fi, it's an audience recording containing songs that didn't make it to the debut. [Note: In addition to bonus tracks, all of the Gary Numan/Begggars Banquet re-releases contain classic photographs and informative liner notes by Numan biographer Steve Malins.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:03 (thirteen years ago)
hey Agents of Fortune!
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:09 (thirteen years ago)
your fave boc?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:12 (thirteen years ago)
no I actually prefer 1980's Cultosaurus Erectus which is cultish and new wave-inflected enough to feel like some offshoot branch of the punk family tree
I always always always mix up Tubeway Army with Subway Sect
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:15 (thirteen years ago)
283. DEATH ...For the Whole World to See (920 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: DNPhttp://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w7NeIsp5Nk0/TgePyG1P3gI/AAAAAAAAAg8/5GVOyOkQEoM/s1600/Front+Cover001+copy.jpg
review[-] by Thom JurekDetroit in the early 1970s was rife with raucous wild music of all kinds: the loopy, psychedelic funk of George Clinton's crew, the raging rock of MC5, the Stooges, the Frost, SRC, Bob Seger getting ready to crack the big time, the entire Motown scene, Grand Funk Railroad banging on the upper reaches of the charts, etc., it was all happening in various places in full view. Music was one of the only places in the Motor City where notions of race and class became virtually invisible. And Detroit radio stations, albeit in off-hours, supported a lot of local music. The influence all these bands had on the local scene was tremendous, as was the influence of Alice Cooper, who'd begun making music in the city before hitting the charts after relocating to Los Angeles.Enter the Hackney Brothers: guitarist David, bassist Bobby, and drummer Dannis (aka Death). These three brothers had been woodshedding in various funk and soul units until about 1973 when they began digging into the heavier sounds of the day, particularly the Stooges and Alice Cooper. They adopted their rather macabre moniker and began playing loads of parties and garage shows and the occasional ALSAC Teen dance bashes on Sunday afternoons. In 1973 they recorded a demo that they gave away at shows that were becoming hot word of mouth affairs. They got it into the hands of producer Don Davis, who brought them into United Sound and cut the singles that have become, thanks to Drag City, released as For the Whole World to See, which finally saw release after 35 years in the can! The sound here is a whomping, woolly blast of garage rock in the grand Detroit tradition. The songs are beautifully written, raw but very tight, rhythmically compelling, guitar-drenched and feedback-littered but focused. Check out the band's best-known tracks such as "Where Do We Go from Here?" and the hyper-political "Politicians in My Eyes." Here ultra-sonic bass rumble, staggered kick drum and snare attacks merge with blistering shards of six-string mayhem. This is proto-punk at its best. Period. Stop-start cadences meet overdriven power chords and slippery riffs and the primal testosterone energy that the very best of Detroit rock & roll brought to bear: frustration, rage, hedonism, and a Fuck You attitude. The feedback and distortion squalls at the end of "Politicians...." are the equal of anything that ever came from the era. Add to this the smoking party anthem "Keep on Knocking," the no-holds barred rave-up of "Rock 'n' Roll Victim," and the Hendrix-ian guitar blast of "You're a Prisoner" and you'll be left shaking your head in wonder and even awe. The music on For the Whole World to See is not a collection of dead dog cuts assembled for a quick buck. In an era where "lost" albums and "classics" seem to come from every label on the planet, Death's meager 26-and-a-half minutes of recorded sound become a proper chapter in the secret history of rock. Yes, it's true that the hardcore collector crazies have been paying a fortune for the original singles, but it's the music that matters. This amazing record is more evidence of Detroit music's secret story. Fans of Bad Brains, Hendrix, Iggy and the Stooges, etc., take note. The word "classic" in this sense is not only accurate, it cannot be overstated.
Detroit in the early 1970s was rife with raucous wild music of all kinds: the loopy, psychedelic funk of George Clinton's crew, the raging rock of MC5, the Stooges, the Frost, SRC, Bob Seger getting ready to crack the big time, the entire Motown scene, Grand Funk Railroad banging on the upper reaches of the charts, etc., it was all happening in various places in full view. Music was one of the only places in the Motor City where notions of race and class became virtually invisible. And Detroit radio stations, albeit in off-hours, supported a lot of local music. The influence all these bands had on the local scene was tremendous, as was the influence of Alice Cooper, who'd begun making music in the city before hitting the charts after relocating to Los Angeles.
Enter the Hackney Brothers: guitarist David, bassist Bobby, and drummer Dannis (aka Death). These three brothers had been woodshedding in various funk and soul units until about 1973 when they began digging into the heavier sounds of the day, particularly the Stooges and Alice Cooper. They adopted their rather macabre moniker and began playing loads of parties and garage shows and the occasional ALSAC Teen dance bashes on Sunday afternoons. In 1973 they recorded a demo that they gave away at shows that were becoming hot word of mouth affairs. They got it into the hands of producer Don Davis, who brought them into United Sound and cut the singles that have become, thanks to Drag City, released as For the Whole World to See, which finally saw release after 35 years in the can! The sound here is a whomping, woolly blast of garage rock in the grand Detroit tradition. The songs are beautifully written, raw but very tight, rhythmically compelling, guitar-drenched and feedback-littered but focused. Check out the band's best-known tracks such as "Where Do We Go from Here?" and the hyper-political "Politicians in My Eyes." Here ultra-sonic bass rumble, staggered kick drum and snare attacks merge with blistering shards of six-string mayhem. This is proto-punk at its best. Period. Stop-start cadences meet overdriven power chords and slippery riffs and the primal testosterone energy that the very best of Detroit rock & roll brought to bear: frustration, rage, hedonism, and a Fuck You attitude. The feedback and distortion squalls at the end of "Politicians...." are the equal of anything that ever came from the era. Add to this the smoking party anthem "Keep on Knocking," the no-holds barred rave-up of "Rock 'n' Roll Victim," and the Hendrix-ian guitar blast of "You're a Prisoner" and you'll be left shaking your head in wonder and even awe. The music on For the Whole World to See is not a collection of dead dog cuts assembled for a quick buck. In an era where "lost" albums and "classics" seem to come from every label on the planet, Death's meager 26-and-a-half minutes of recorded sound become a proper chapter in the secret history of rock. Yes, it's true that the hardcore collector crazies have been paying a fortune for the original singles, but it's the music that matters. This amazing record is more evidence of Detroit music's secret story. Fans of Bad Brains, Hendrix, Iggy and the Stooges, etc., take note. The word "classic" in this sense is not only accurate, it cannot be overstated.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:16 (thirteen years ago)
Just as I find albums that are difficult to decide whether they're psych or prog fascinating, I like the stuff in 77-79 that falls between glam, punk and synth pop like Tubeway Army, Ultravox and Japan.
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:21 (thirteen years ago)
the reverend turned me on to this and im glad he did
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:21 (thirteen years ago)
xp obv
282. MOUNTAIN Climbing! (921 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #115 for 1970 , #3424 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/764/MI0001764623.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2tWvZmP9EVRYqmWyJPLzjP
We all know they're the original Cremora--what this makes clearer is that they're Jack Bruce's third of the jar. On "For Yasgur's Farm" Felix Pappalardi emulates JB's self-dramatizing vocal propriety as well as his bass lines, but when Leslie West runs an acoustic guitar solo from raga to flamenco without ever touching the blues you know he's not doing an Eric Clapton tribute. Can't fit the humongous "Mississippi Queen" into this theory, but I can tell you who wrote "Theme for an Imaginary Western": Jack Bruce and Pete Brown. C+ -- R. ChristgauFelix Pappalardi, the producer and "musical director" of Mountain used to produce Cream; therefore it's no big surprise that Mountain specializes in the type of "heavy rock" that Creem pioneered. What is remarkable about Mountain is that they not only imitate Cream, they actually sound like Mssrs. Clapton, Bruce and Baker. When they do a Jack Bruce/Pete Brown song, "Theme For An Imaginary Western," you really can't tell the difference.There are, to be sure, a few bright spots on Climbing where the musicians get it together for some good, stomping rock music. "Sitting On A Rainbow" is the best of the set, two minutes and twenty seconds of soaring guitar and bass, coupled with some marvelous syncopation from Laing...Unfortunately MOuntain is one of those groups that overdoes it too often. MOst of the other songs are buried under a garish musical collage, with screaming vocal on top of whining guitar on top of thumping bass on top of busy, rattling drums. It's usually too much for the listener to handle at once.Despite its shortcomings, Climbing does give us an idea of what Mountain is capable of. When they're right, they're every bit as powerful as was Cream; they're all talented musicians, especially Pappalardi and West. Like most of us, they're still figuring it out; definitely a band with a future. -- Ray Rezos, RS
Felix Pappalardi, the producer and "musical director" of Mountain used to produce Cream; therefore it's no big surprise that Mountain specializes in the type of "heavy rock" that Creem pioneered. What is remarkable about Mountain is that they not only imitate Cream, they actually sound like Mssrs. Clapton, Bruce and Baker. When they do a Jack Bruce/Pete Brown song, "Theme For An Imaginary Western," you really can't tell the difference.
There are, to be sure, a few bright spots on Climbing where the musicians get it together for some good, stomping rock music. "Sitting On A Rainbow" is the best of the set, two minutes and twenty seconds of soaring guitar and bass, coupled with some marvelous syncopation from Laing...Unfortunately MOuntain is one of those groups that overdoes it too often. MOst of the other songs are buried under a garish musical collage, with screaming vocal on top of whining guitar on top of thumping bass on top of busy, rattling drums. It's usually too much for the listener to handle at once.
Despite its shortcomings, Climbing does give us an idea of what Mountain is capable of. When they're right, they're every bit as powerful as was Cream; they're all talented musicians, especially Pappalardi and West. Like most of us, they're still figuring it out; definitely a band with a future. -- Ray Rezos, RS
reviewby Matthew GreenwaldMountain was the combined forces of Leslie West, a gigantic guitarist/vocalist who had played with New York garage-psych rockers the Vagrants, and Felix Pappalardi. Pappalardi had a slightly more impressive track record, coming from the modern East Coast folk-rock movement (the Youngbloods), before he applied his production skills to Cream. Through this, Felix never really stopped playing and eventually formed Mountain. Often billed as a junior-league version of Cream, Climbing!, Mountain's debut, had a lot of things going for it as well. Indeed, West was a changed man from the moment he saw Clapton play, and Pappalardi was able to help him achieve the exact same tone Clapton employed on Disraeli Gears. The hit off Climbing!, "Mississippi Queen" is a boogie classic, and it paved the way for countless imitators such as J. Geils Band, Foghat, and others. There are a lot of other great tracks here, such as "Never in My Life," which was an FM radio staple at the time.
Mountain was the combined forces of Leslie West, a gigantic guitarist/vocalist who had played with New York garage-psych rockers the Vagrants, and Felix Pappalardi. Pappalardi had a slightly more impressive track record, coming from the modern East Coast folk-rock movement (the Youngbloods), before he applied his production skills to Cream. Through this, Felix never really stopped playing and eventually formed Mountain. Often billed as a junior-league version of Cream, Climbing!, Mountain's debut, had a lot of things going for it as well. Indeed, West was a changed man from the moment he saw Clapton play, and Pappalardi was able to help him achieve the exact same tone Clapton employed on Disraeli Gears. The hit off Climbing!, "Mississippi Queen" is a boogie classic, and it paved the way for countless imitators such as J. Geils Band, Foghat, and others. There are a lot of other great tracks here, such as "Never in My Life," which was an FM radio staple at the time.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
Woah a trilogy of TOO LOW!!!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
and now a forth!
But srsly Agents of Fortune not in the top 100?! ILM u crazy!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:31 (thirteen years ago)
Bought this cd in the 90s for £1.99 in Missing Records in Glasgow (the big shop they had with cheap cds/tapes downstairs where they sold the second hand vinyl & concert tix).
Bargain. Yeah I do tend to skip *that* song but Theme for an Imaginary Western is fantastic.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:32 (thirteen years ago)
Remember when Death got reissued a few years back and brought out of obscurity and ILM went nuts? It was like a 5000 post thread!
At the time I was like "whutever it's not THE Death. RIP Chuck."
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:38 (thirteen years ago)
silly viceroy
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:38 (thirteen years ago)
xp But the end of Missisippi Queen glides into Theme... so well! Very well crafted album arrangement.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:39 (thirteen years ago)
Definitely not a C+ album.
281. Motörhead Bomber (928 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #69 for 1979 , #3474 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/026/MI0002026405.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/74JrRUJZNfSQt82Pyo2NlO
In their second attempt at a debut album, Speedy Keen (ex-Thunderclap Newman), who'd mis-mixed the Heartbreakers' L.A.M.F. LP, successfully captured Motörhead's sturm und klang. Cut after cut, it's phenomenal: remakes of Hawkwind's "Motörhead" and "Lost Johnny" (the latter co-written by Mick Farren), "White Line Fever," "Iron Horse/Born to Lose" and more, all with a force and fury unequalled until the 1981 live LP. A 1980 12- inch of outtakes from those Chiswick sessions features Wallis' "On Parole," Motörhead's "Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers" and oldies by John Mayall and ZZ Top. (The belated American reissue of Motörhead appends the entire four-song EP as well as the band's first B-side, the Pink Fairies' "City Kids.") -- Trouser PressOverkill, Bomber... what's the difference? Both records, and to a lesser extent, the malnourished debut, rocked proudly and loudly, the new, hastiily assembled collection strafing the crowd with the likes of bitter classics "Poison" and "All The Aces," plus the catchy, atomotive speed-riffing of the title track. If anything, Bomber is even more shabby and imploded than its turf-busting predecessor, its patina downright diseased as Philthy buries every attempt at pattern under layers of crashing trash can lids and power shuffles nearly too fast for the creaking digits of his cranky cohorts. The end result, when those who can still hear look bak and listen to these things, is a record that is considered the least classic of the first four... 10/8 -- M. Popoff
Overkill, Bomber... what's the difference? Both records, and to a lesser extent, the malnourished debut, rocked proudly and loudly, the new, hastiily assembled collection strafing the crowd with the likes of bitter classics "Poison" and "All The Aces," plus the catchy, atomotive speed-riffing of the title track. If anything, Bomber is even more shabby and imploded than its turf-busting predecessor, its patina downright diseased as Philthy buries every attempt at pattern under layers of crashing trash can lids and power shuffles nearly too fast for the creaking digits of his cranky cohorts. The end result, when those who can still hear look bak and listen to these things, is a record that is considered the least classic of the first four... 10/8 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Jason BirchmeierRecorded in late summer 1979 and released by the end of the year, Bomber quickly followed up Overkill, Motörhead's landmark breakthrough album from earlier in the year. Bomber bears a lot in common with its fan-favorite predecessor. For starters, it features the classic Motörhead lineup: Lemmy (bass and vocals), "Fast" Eddie Clarke (guitar), and "Philthy Animal" Taylor (drums). Also like Overkill, Bomber features the production grace of Jimmy Miller, the man responsible for the Rolling Stones' late-'60s/early-'70s albums, including such masterpieces as Beggars Banquet, Sticky Fingers, and Exile on Main St. And the music here on Bomber explodes on song after song, thanks to the crazed performances of the aforementioned bandmembers as well as the well-overdriven, ear-rattling production perfection of Miller. Actually, there's only one marked difference between Overkill and Bomber that's worth noting: the songs. There are a couple killers here, namely "Dead Men Tell No Tales," "Stone Dead Forever," and "Bomber," but overall, the songs of Bomber aren't as strong as those of Overkill were. Granted, this is somewhat of a moot point to raise, as Bomber is still a top-shelf Motörhead album, one of their all-time best, without question. But it does fall just a notch or two below Overkill and Ace of Spades, the latter of which would follow a year later and catapult the band to further acclaim. Bomber kicks ass, in any event, and its best moments are as superlative as any Motörhead would ever record. The band was really on fire during this point in time and could seemingly do no wrong.
Recorded in late summer 1979 and released by the end of the year, Bomber quickly followed up Overkill, Motörhead's landmark breakthrough album from earlier in the year. Bomber bears a lot in common with its fan-favorite predecessor. For starters, it features the classic Motörhead lineup: Lemmy (bass and vocals), "Fast" Eddie Clarke (guitar), and "Philthy Animal" Taylor (drums). Also like Overkill, Bomber features the production grace of Jimmy Miller, the man responsible for the Rolling Stones' late-'60s/early-'70s albums, including such masterpieces as Beggars Banquet, Sticky Fingers, and Exile on Main St. And the music here on Bomber explodes on song after song, thanks to the crazed performances of the aforementioned bandmembers as well as the well-overdriven, ear-rattling production perfection of Miller. Actually, there's only one marked difference between Overkill and Bomber that's worth noting: the songs. There are a couple killers here, namely "Dead Men Tell No Tales," "Stone Dead Forever," and "Bomber," but overall, the songs of Bomber aren't as strong as those of Overkill were. Granted, this is somewhat of a moot point to raise, as Bomber is still a top-shelf Motörhead album, one of their all-time best, without question. But it does fall just a notch or two below Overkill and Ace of Spades, the latter of which would follow a year later and catapult the band to further acclaim. Bomber kicks ass, in any event, and its best moments are as superlative as any Motörhead would ever record. The band was really on fire during this point in time and could seemingly do no wrong.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:40 (thirteen years ago)
I know what everyone is going to say but metal thread regs didn't vote so some of these albums that should be higher aren't. Blame me for pissing some of them off previously.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:41 (thirteen years ago)
I prefer Overkill tbh but any Motorhead is good Motorhead (even when its Hawkwind)
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:43 (thirteen years ago)
The end result, when those who can still hear look bak and listen to these things, is a record that is considered the least classic of the first four... 10/8 -- M. Popoff
You know its a helluva band when Bomber is the least classic of the first four.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:43 (thirteen years ago)
hahaha yeah
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:44 (thirteen years ago)
what is that on the cover? some kind of blimp... robot? made up of the faces of motorhead?
― Mordy, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:44 (thirteen years ago)
I think its some kind of space-bomber about to nuke your ears from orbit.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
tho it kind of looks like something Dr. Robotnik would ride around in.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:46 (thirteen years ago)
Pretty sure it's supposed to be a Heinkel He 111
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:46 (thirteen years ago)
Like a Minicooper Heinkel maybe
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:48 (thirteen years ago)
Lemmy being Lemmy, they've gone for a Nazi plane obv.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:51 (thirteen years ago)
Lemmy was inspired by Len Deighton's novel Bomber. They recreated the album art as a forty foot aluminium tube lighting rig used for their shows, a replica of a Heinkel He 111 bomber that could fly backwards and forwards, and side to side - the first to be able to do so.
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:51 (thirteen years ago)
I don't think the lighting rig could fly, but would have been awesome...
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:52 (thirteen years ago)
I'm sorry but the thing on that cover barely looks like a real plane of any kind no matter what they were attempting.
Didn't know about the plane for the stage show though that sounds pretty rad.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:53 (thirteen years ago)
280. A.R. & MACHINES Die grüne Reise - The Green Journey (931 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #229 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/895/MI0002895418.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2R6aVuL7YPUlAca8Mg8enH
After playing a major gig at Hamburg's Musikhalle in May 1970, Achim jamming with the likes of Ritchie Blackmore, Graham Bond and Pete Brown, first off was the unprecedented DIE GRÜNE REISE, with its off-beat rock 'n' roll and psychedelia, taking the listener on a sonic journey of dazzling diversity, textures and innovation unheard of in 1971, not least so the ending "Truth And Probability (A Lexicon Of Self Knowledge)", which is amongst the weirdest, most fascinating, wildly tripped-out things I've ever heard! -- Cosmic Egg“Die Grüne Reise” (‘The Green Journey’) doesn’t sound like the handiwork of one person, but this first solo album of Achim Reichel’s is exactly that. He wrote all the tracks, played all the instruments, and produced the entire scene himself (Actually, make that co-produced with Frank Dostal, who also penned the English lyrics within and had previously done time with Reichel in the popular West German beatgruppe, The Rattles.) And since its ‘realization’ is credited to A.R. himself, it would seem obvious that the album was more or less his effort and his alone. The refined qualities dash from the ridiculous to the sublime in a place where wordless vocals rhythmically run amok alongside trance-inducing interplay of multi-overdubbed guitars as the background fill of bass and drums, then percussion and acoustic guitar are all tweaked into a Möbius strip of interconnectedness plotted to perfection. For whether it is a signal or signal as repeated echo, all lands rhythmically assured on their assigned and intended position despite the dense amount of sonic looping at work. Despite such potentially confusing effects at play, Reichel exhibits a skillful juggling act of sound on “Die Grüne Reise.” It is the end result of the kind of heightened awareness that goes beyond merely coaxing results from equipment (as only the most committed technicians do) to making that leap to communicating directly with his equipment and operating in a specific place where the interfacing going down is at such a basic and mutual level that it is the distance between the source (Reichel’s untreated guitar lines) and the result (the echoed playback) that Reichel seems to be playing as much as the guitar AND its echoed counterpart. Parlaying this mental, three-dimensional game of ping-pong with innumerable multi-tracking of further guitars along with the supporting instrumentation at a variety of shades and strengths, it’s a marvel to behold the breadth of Reichel’s vision at work here (He even paid tribute to this relationship by whittling his own name down to two initials and credited the record to ‘A.R. & Machines’.) And then there’s the vocalising -- Which one cannot even begin to describe, let alone conjecture exactly HOW he made it all fit together so harmonious it sounds as complete as if the entire album sprouted from his head fully formed or if the tool that draws from the impulses of the human brain is fed directly into the equipment in a marriage of electricity stamped directly upon the output...in a rhythmically-based latticework with many simple layers comprehensively distributed throughout with a Teutonic sense of organisation.And if you think that’s a head full, it’s nothing compared to the record itself for it is one seriously giddy experience. Although Reichel’s following “Echo” LP was twice as long and even fathoms deeper, “Die Grüne Reise” was where the idiosyncratic world of A.R. & Machines first assembled and took to flight, flow and funnel all at once. (It would be disingenuous to label the majority content here as a mere milk run for the navigating vision Reichel so wonderfully finalised on “Echo.” Although the tracks do exhibit the same filigreed expansiveness with respect to the use of sound layering via multi-guitar overdubs Reichel pushed through delay to yield rhythmically rich textures and a similar predetermined energy flows with fluid and precise assembly, I can only conclude that without the arduous procedures Reichel undertook single-handedly with the writing, arranging and recording “Die Grüne Reise,” along with its comparative amount of studio and compositional lessons learned, “Echo” would never have existed so I view them as equally burning achievements.)A final bizarre note is that this album was conceived (and quite possibly, undelivered) in the unlikely form of a film soundtrack, as the back sleeve notes ‘The Green Journey: Sound Track to the intended motion picture.’ Judging from some of the lyrics and song titles, it would appear to be for a religious-themed film. But if the producer had in mind a treatment more in keeping with the saleable fad of religion-based pop operas soon personified with the trilogy of “Godspell,” “Jesus Christ Superstar” and “Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat” (throw in their more secular roots that first germinated on “Hair” and “Tommy” and you have the top five candidates for the turntables of growing legions of flipped out flower children that had switched from unsuccessfully trying to find god in a sugar cube after innumerable misses to the more widely accepted means of studying the New Testament -- during their successful completion of drug rehabilitation programs) then he would have been sorely disappointed.Not to mention overwhelmed. For this album was no such methadone clinic in LP form because Reichel had no Broadway aspirations and was already leagues ahead in innovative sound arrangements with far-reaching possibilities that what he wound up producing was deeply coursing music that weaved through myriad forms and spaces without ever getting lost in the process while simultaneously surfing several depths of the electric ocean in sound. The front sleeve of the album depicts Reichel’s image faintly reflected from inside a green marble parked gently in-between his Muse’s lips that kaleidoscopically refract all around and is a keen representation of the delayed, layering techniques applied throughout. Multi-tracking and echo are manipulated with a detailed weight that practically turn them into instruments themselves, as they wield and yield a battery of effects to the proceedings.Side one is a suite of seven tracks crossfaded with the umbrella title, “Ich Bin (Fröhliche Abenteurer für Sinne, Geist und Triebe)” and in English translates into “I Am (Happy Adventures For Senses, Mind, And Inclination).” Organised into four separate ‘stations,’ the constant bleeding and continuous merging of reoccurring themes and parallel motifs weave in and out more as waves of particles pulsating through various wormholes of space and sound with millipede-like proportion than the by-product of a West German longhair playing looped e-guitar sequences. It is as dense as it is economical and so evenly paced that the 20 minutes of side one manages to feel half the time in length despite (or because) there is so much going on. After a brief introductory passage, the first ‘happy adventure’ is the main theme that kicks into a triple time with triple guitars laying down a galloping passage as percussion hitches a ride at full speed, pounding the earth under its hooves as it approaches “In The Same Boat.” Here, phased hi-hatting and a punked-up “Spirit In The Sky” lead rhythm guitar riff gets spat out with the first verses running short and tersely repeated: “All/Love all...All/Kiss all...” until it trails off into the vocals getting slowed down, sped up and extending into a flurry of high pitched, agape vox as Reichel slowly intonates and clues us in beforehand: “Understand-ing/The sudden/End-ing...” Which, by the way, is how both sides of the album conclude. The airlock opens and the main theme comes spilling out once again, this time with further deftly handled guitar overdubs and Synthi-A lines that are dazzlingly echoed. Drums savagely break in but oddly do not commit with any sense of discord. “Beautiful Babylon” sees a quiet interlude of relaxed beauty emerge, but is soon touched by a growing awareness that soon evolves into a sorrowful reflection on Babylon’s skin-deep beauty, simmering gently into cymbals and an acoustic guitar strumming against further percussion comprised of fish belly, congas, handclaps as Reichel goofs, “Hello!...Hahaha...Huh?” and proceeds into “I’ll Be Your Singer, You Be My Song.” Located somewhere in feel to a less organic version of Can’s “T.V. Spot” crossed with the rhythmic repetitions of their earlier “Yoo Doo Right,” it may very well Reichel addressing the relationship he shares with his Muse, the tools of his creation or quite possibly, just the rest of the universe.“Body” is a percussion-laden instrumental that builds with multi-tracked guitars playing tightly-knit cross-patterns as prominent bass and vocal gibbering joins into a conga line. As it starts building, it also funnels into a tight yet spacious arrangement of deeply echoed chords that quickly shudder and fall to gravity’s pull as it segues into the brief “A Book’s Blues.” A slow and single bluesy guitar much like Ash Ra Tempel’s “Downtown” enters with finger snapping, drums and bass falling in backing the song’s one and only verse and consequently ends with another pull of gravity. Segueing into the seventh and final track, “....Als Hätte Ich Das Alles Schon Mal Gesehen” (“....As If I Have Seen All This Before”) a wonderland of echo returns as vocals cry and are echoed to next Donnerstag and back without missing a beat among rapped bongo skins and vocal things. The main guitar theme returns to flatten the plains on horseback once again and drums start up with a great clatter that in turn sets off the crystal machine Synthi-A with great reverb that transcendentally breaks it all apart. Once it calms and settles down a lone guitar is struck several times and sways in its tracks. The introduction from the side’s beginning throws the old dénouement switch as if to regroup, but it’s too late for all gets quickly swamped yet again by a passing cloud of more fantastically echoed Synthi-A. The drums shoot up once more into clamour, but the sonic stew is finally set to simmer. A guitar gently disassembles, plink...plink...plink...Until Reichel stomps on the foot pedal to draw to a close the epic first side with a ‘sudden/end-ing.’“Cosmic Vibration (An Afternoon-Concert)” commences the second side, building with successive layers just added and added from one guitar line to five (ten? twenty??) as percussion and bass easily adhere to its predetermined rhythmic girding. Cymbals hit and signal the piece’s ascent across the horizon. Several guitars vie within the boundaries of the predetermined sonicscape to split off into faked double-trackedness with a pair of different guitars performing the same riff. Once this has fallen away, a skeletal “Hurricane Fighter Plane” rhythm guitar weaves in followed by cowbell and then shakers and begins wending off into the repetitive and echoed unknown. Soon, crystal machine Synthi-A is awakened, discharging a glittery snowfall that dusts the piece and ushers it into crossfade with the most song-oriented moment of the album, “Come On, People.” It’s a secular revival meeting/street anthem played on madly strummed acoustic guitar set to a Bo Diddley rhythm with metronomic high-hatting. If there was a cameo for Reichel in the film that was never made, it would be this song and he’d be be-robe on a sunset mount above a crowd of assembled groovers. Melody vocal effects darken the approaching horizon while subtle vocal treatments whizz by, oscillating and manipulated into synthesizer-like cooing.“Truth And Probability (A Lexicon For Self-Knowledge)” is the weighty title for the album’s massive finale and is the place that most obviously points the way to the heady excursions Reichel would next achieve on “Echo.” Tiny bells strike over a guitar pattern that nudges along and is shored up by its brother echo riff with the speed and curled motion of feathers floating downward. A flurry of guitar rises gently in molecular amassment then edges into sustained feedback as vocal freakery enters to remains for the rest of the piece. And oh how it remains. It’s the “Surfin’ Bird” midsection on laughing gas in an echo chamber/hall of mirrors, stereo-panned and multi-tracked to make it seem like hundreds of little Achims prattling on/off and off/on at the speed of speaking in tongues for all his combined ancestors/future descendants all once. These vocal noises stretch, condense and extend into symphonies of wordless vocalese that build up, break down and spread out over guitar feedback and bass auxiliaries that needle and dive-bomb from the rear. The vocals go into in freefall and still manages to keep to the rhythm, despite being echoed to the four (times four) corners of oblivion with crying, laughing, cawing, you name it. Reichel even manages to approximate a water tap dripping. And it’s all Echoed...echoed...echoed... Like a Ligeti vocal score recorded by a bunch of short attention span cadets behind his back. There’s a slowdown into further realms of Überchatterung until the whole labyrinth lurches to an abrupt close with a final ‘sudden/end-ing’ and the silence is deafening. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
“Die Grüne Reise” (‘The Green Journey’) doesn’t sound like the handiwork of one person, but this first solo album of Achim Reichel’s is exactly that. He wrote all the tracks, played all the instruments, and produced the entire scene himself (Actually, make that co-produced with Frank Dostal, who also penned the English lyrics within and had previously done time with Reichel in the popular West German beatgruppe, The Rattles.) And since its ‘realization’ is credited to A.R. himself, it would seem obvious that the album was more or less his effort and his alone. The refined qualities dash from the ridiculous to the sublime in a place where wordless vocals rhythmically run amok alongside trance-inducing interplay of multi-overdubbed guitars as the background fill of bass and drums, then percussion and acoustic guitar are all tweaked into a Möbius strip of interconnectedness plotted to perfection. For whether it is a signal or signal as repeated echo, all lands rhythmically assured on their assigned and intended position despite the dense amount of sonic looping at work.
Despite such potentially confusing effects at play, Reichel exhibits a skillful juggling act of sound on “Die Grüne Reise.” It is the end result of the kind of heightened awareness that goes beyond merely coaxing results from equipment (as only the most committed technicians do) to making that leap to communicating directly with his equipment and operating in a specific place where the interfacing going down is at such a basic and mutual level that it is the distance between the source (Reichel’s untreated guitar lines) and the result (the echoed playback) that Reichel seems to be playing as much as the guitar AND its echoed counterpart. Parlaying this mental, three-dimensional game of ping-pong with innumerable multi-tracking of further guitars along with the supporting instrumentation at a variety of shades and strengths, it’s a marvel to behold the breadth of Reichel’s vision at work here (He even paid tribute to this relationship by whittling his own name down to two initials and credited the record to ‘A.R. & Machines’.) And then there’s the vocalising -- Which one cannot even begin to describe, let alone conjecture exactly HOW he made it all fit together so harmonious it sounds as complete as if the entire album sprouted from his head fully formed or if the tool that draws from the impulses of the human brain is fed directly into the equipment in a marriage of electricity stamped directly upon the output...in a rhythmically-based latticework with many simple layers comprehensively distributed throughout with a Teutonic sense of organisation.
And if you think that’s a head full, it’s nothing compared to the record itself for it is one seriously giddy experience. Although Reichel’s following “Echo” LP was twice as long and even fathoms deeper, “Die Grüne Reise” was where the idiosyncratic world of A.R. & Machines first assembled and took to flight, flow and funnel all at once. (It would be disingenuous to label the majority content here as a mere milk run for the navigating vision Reichel so wonderfully finalised on “Echo.” Although the tracks do exhibit the same filigreed expansiveness with respect to the use of sound layering via multi-guitar overdubs Reichel pushed through delay to yield rhythmically rich textures and a similar predetermined energy flows with fluid and precise assembly, I can only conclude that without the arduous procedures Reichel undertook single-handedly with the writing, arranging and recording “Die Grüne Reise,” along with its comparative amount of studio and compositional lessons learned, “Echo” would never have existed so I view them as equally burning achievements.)
A final bizarre note is that this album was conceived (and quite possibly, undelivered) in the unlikely form of a film soundtrack, as the back sleeve notes ‘The Green Journey: Sound Track to the intended motion picture.’ Judging from some of the lyrics and song titles, it would appear to be for a religious-themed film. But if the producer had in mind a treatment more in keeping with the saleable fad of religion-based pop operas soon personified with the trilogy of “Godspell,” “Jesus Christ Superstar” and “Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat” (throw in their more secular roots that first germinated on “Hair” and “Tommy” and you have the top five candidates for the turntables of growing legions of flipped out flower children that had switched from unsuccessfully trying to find god in a sugar cube after innumerable misses to the more widely accepted means of studying the New Testament -- during their successful completion of drug rehabilitation programs) then he would have been sorely disappointed.
Not to mention overwhelmed. For this album was no such methadone clinic in LP form because Reichel had no Broadway aspirations and was already leagues ahead in innovative sound arrangements with far-reaching possibilities that what he wound up producing was deeply coursing music that weaved through myriad forms and spaces without ever getting lost in the process while simultaneously surfing several depths of the electric ocean in sound. The front sleeve of the album depicts Reichel’s image faintly reflected from inside a green marble parked gently in-between his Muse’s lips that kaleidoscopically refract all around and is a keen representation of the delayed, layering techniques applied throughout. Multi-tracking and echo are manipulated with a detailed weight that practically turn them into instruments themselves, as they wield and yield a battery of effects to the proceedings.
Side one is a suite of seven tracks crossfaded with the umbrella title, “Ich Bin (Fröhliche Abenteurer für Sinne, Geist und Triebe)” and in English translates into “I Am (Happy Adventures For Senses, Mind, And Inclination).” Organised into four separate ‘stations,’ the constant bleeding and continuous merging of reoccurring themes and parallel motifs weave in and out more as waves of particles pulsating through various wormholes of space and sound with millipede-like proportion than the by-product of a West German longhair playing looped e-guitar sequences. It is as dense as it is economical and so evenly paced that the 20 minutes of side one manages to feel half the time in length despite (or because) there is so much going on. After a brief introductory passage, the first ‘happy adventure’ is the main theme that kicks into a triple time with triple guitars laying down a galloping passage as percussion hitches a ride at full speed, pounding the earth under its hooves as it approaches “In The Same Boat.” Here, phased hi-hatting and a punked-up “Spirit In The Sky” lead rhythm guitar riff gets spat out with the first verses running short and tersely repeated: “All/Love all...All/Kiss all...” until it trails off into the vocals getting slowed down, sped up and extending into a flurry of high pitched, agape vox as Reichel slowly intonates and clues us in beforehand: “Understand-ing/The sudden/End-ing...” Which, by the way, is how both sides of the album conclude. The airlock opens and the main theme comes spilling out once again, this time with further deftly handled guitar overdubs and Synthi-A lines that are dazzlingly echoed. Drums savagely break in but oddly do not commit with any sense of discord. “Beautiful Babylon” sees a quiet interlude of relaxed beauty emerge, but is soon touched by a growing awareness that soon evolves into a sorrowful reflection on Babylon’s skin-deep beauty, simmering gently into cymbals and an acoustic guitar strumming against further percussion comprised of fish belly, congas, handclaps as Reichel goofs, “Hello!...Hahaha...Huh?” and proceeds into “I’ll Be Your Singer, You Be My Song.” Located somewhere in feel to a less organic version of Can’s “T.V. Spot” crossed with the rhythmic repetitions of their earlier “Yoo Doo Right,” it may very well Reichel addressing the relationship he shares with his Muse, the tools of his creation or quite possibly, just the rest of the universe.
“Body” is a percussion-laden instrumental that builds with multi-tracked guitars playing tightly-knit cross-patterns as prominent bass and vocal gibbering joins into a conga line. As it starts building, it also funnels into a tight yet spacious arrangement of deeply echoed chords that quickly shudder and fall to gravity’s pull as it segues into the brief “A Book’s Blues.” A slow and single bluesy guitar much like Ash Ra Tempel’s “Downtown” enters with finger snapping, drums and bass falling in backing the song’s one and only verse and consequently ends with another pull of gravity. Segueing into the seventh and final track, “....Als Hätte Ich Das Alles Schon Mal Gesehen” (“....As If I Have Seen All This Before”) a wonderland of echo returns as vocals cry and are echoed to next Donnerstag and back without missing a beat among rapped bongo skins and vocal things. The main guitar theme returns to flatten the plains on horseback once again and drums start up with a great clatter that in turn sets off the crystal machine Synthi-A with great reverb that transcendentally breaks it all apart. Once it calms and settles down a lone guitar is struck several times and sways in its tracks. The introduction from the side’s beginning throws the old dénouement switch as if to regroup, but it’s too late for all gets quickly swamped yet again by a passing cloud of more fantastically echoed Synthi-A. The drums shoot up once more into clamour, but the sonic stew is finally set to simmer. A guitar gently disassembles, plink...plink...plink...Until Reichel stomps on the foot pedal to draw to a close the epic first side with a ‘sudden/end-ing.’
“Cosmic Vibration (An Afternoon-Concert)” commences the second side, building with successive layers just added and added from one guitar line to five (ten? twenty??) as percussion and bass easily adhere to its predetermined rhythmic girding. Cymbals hit and signal the piece’s ascent across the horizon. Several guitars vie within the boundaries of the predetermined sonicscape to split off into faked double-trackedness with a pair of different guitars performing the same riff. Once this has fallen away, a skeletal “Hurricane Fighter Plane” rhythm guitar weaves in followed by cowbell and then shakers and begins wending off into the repetitive and echoed unknown. Soon, crystal machine Synthi-A is awakened, discharging a glittery snowfall that dusts the piece and ushers it into crossfade with the most song-oriented moment of the album, “Come On, People.” It’s a secular revival meeting/street anthem played on madly strummed acoustic guitar set to a Bo Diddley rhythm with metronomic high-hatting. If there was a cameo for Reichel in the film that was never made, it would be this song and he’d be be-robe on a sunset mount above a crowd of assembled groovers. Melody vocal effects darken the approaching horizon while subtle vocal treatments whizz by, oscillating and manipulated into synthesizer-like cooing.
“Truth And Probability (A Lexicon For Self-Knowledge)” is the weighty title for the album’s massive finale and is the place that most obviously points the way to the heady excursions Reichel would next achieve on “Echo.” Tiny bells strike over a guitar pattern that nudges along and is shored up by its brother echo riff with the speed and curled motion of feathers floating downward. A flurry of guitar rises gently in molecular amassment then edges into sustained feedback as vocal freakery enters to remains for the rest of the piece. And oh how it remains. It’s the “Surfin’ Bird” midsection on laughing gas in an echo chamber/hall of mirrors, stereo-panned and multi-tracked to make it seem like hundreds of little Achims prattling on/off and off/on at the speed of speaking in tongues for all his combined ancestors/future descendants all once. These vocal noises stretch, condense and extend into symphonies of wordless vocalese that build up, break down and spread out over guitar feedback and bass auxiliaries that needle and dive-bomb from the rear. The vocals go into in freefall and still manages to keep to the rhythm, despite being echoed to the four (times four) corners of oblivion with crying, laughing, cawing, you name it. Reichel even manages to approximate a water tap dripping. And it’s all Echoed...echoed...echoed... Like a Ligeti vocal score recorded by a bunch of short attention span cadets behind his back. There’s a slowdown into further realms of Überchatterung until the whole labyrinth lurches to an abrupt close with a final ‘sudden/end-ing’ and the silence is deafening. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:55 (thirteen years ago)
so glad this is on spotify, gonna check this out right now! This poll is great I am being introduced to so much awesome stuff.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:56 (thirteen years ago)
Although I wish there was some kind of app which could approximate the feeling of having two sides of a record...
The worst thing about digitalization of music is the loss of physical interaction and how albums were designed to give you a breather, however short, between sides... like movements.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 17:59 (thirteen years ago)
haha yeah I'm a minute or so in and I am very happy I took this green journey...
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:00 (thirteen years ago)
Mordy I think this might be some krautrock you might dig. Very earthy rhythms and warm psych flourishes with occasional breaks into synth spaciness that don't overstay their welcome. The percussion has a very world beat feel to it.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:04 (thirteen years ago)
278. GURU GURU UFO (933 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #337 for 1970http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/496/MI0001496502.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1pFJz00flXlPN2yIOk6VIu
Mani and Uli wanted someone much more original. They discovered him as the guitarist in Agitation Free: Ax Genrich, a guitarist who could do unbelievable things with his instrument - he could even make it talk! Instantly Guru Guru were one of the hottest bands on the scene and were promptly signed by Ohr, making the extraordinary free-form rock album UFO. This proved to be amongst the ultimate musical acid-trips, with greatly condensed versions of music thrashed out in concert jams. Titles like "Stone In" and "Der LSD-Marsh" instantly tell us where they were at! With rattling drums, scuttling, shuddering bass, and a swamp full of guitars, with vocals used mainly for effect, incredible through and through, right down to the ultimate space-trip, "UFO" itself! -- Cosmic EggAs demonstrated on their first pair of albums for the German Ohr label, Guru Guru were the loosest, most experimental and most out there of all power trios of the early seventies. And the title of their debut “UFO” album was appropriate, as many of the sounds within are not immediately identifiable. Although the drums and guitars are recognisable enough, lodged as they are between breeze blocks of heaving, sprawling abandon where all manner of contact microphone misuse, tweaking of volume knobs on both amplifiers and guitars while everything else coursed through all manner of fuzztone and echo boxes to make the studio air hang heavy and leaden as it curled at the corners like burning parchment and loads of fuck-knows-what-else. As a result, the five tracks that comprise “UFO” are saw-toothed, broken and resistant to all smoothness in their haphazard execution as they only approach the loosest organisation teased out from the knotty and matted wig of raw noise that hung atop their collective heads.Guru Guru furiously nudge and burrow through silence with their mammoth ensemble clashes of processed signals, treated bass and guitar assaults pummeled senselessly to the ground by a battery of percussives that never seemed to quit. And on the rare occasion when it does relent, it’s just as easily content to simmer in a stew of disquietingly becalmed noise until inevitably re-boiling over into eruption. An altogether spasmodic musical proposition, “UFO” cascades fluid and free down corridors of improvisation caught in the throes of abandon with all apple carts of pop conventions overturned and in flames. It’s an ongoing rush in no hurry, heavy as bronze boots, looser than drunken shoelaces and all the while maintaining a top speed of about 8kph with enough elbow room to strike out at any (and all) directions at once.Even in the studio, the three interlocking ‘Sektions’ that are Mani Neumeier (Percussion-Sektion), Uli Trepte (Bass-Sektion) and Ax Genrich (Gitarren-Sektion) play off each other as though from neighbouring Bavarian fields equipped with only a drum kit, guitars, amplifiers and a batch of cheap radio shop communication devices and play them like a trio of underground superheroes emerging 20,000 leagues beneath the sea to impart an new method of communication. Perhaps it’s really that Neumeier is a crazed and flailing octopus man with a stick from every limb and a penchant for high spirited thrash attacks, Ulrich Trepte an intercom/contact microphone obsessive dredging frequencies from the ocean floor while weighing bass lines as anchors and Ax “Victim” Genrich the proud carrier of a six-foot tall conch shell used not only for amplification (double stacked and rigged with a front line of wah-wah, fuzz and echo boxes as knobs on both guitar and amplifier are tweaked and twirled to yield maximum viscosity) but to part oceans as well. Or perhaps they only sound like it.The improvisation of “Stone In” opens and features the sole lyrics of the album -- If you could call it that when Neumeier’s vocals intone the title with an accompanying set of words brayed out unintelligibly at the back of the ensuing racket, now commencing at the speed of a mid-level and high scoring pinball session. Neumeier hits his crash cymbal-positioned gong with drum sticks (not mallets) and it sounds like an oversized oil drum lid utilised as a pang while simultaneously sounding like a traffic accident as heard through a plastic tube half a block in length. Trepte is content to treat his rhythmic strumming bass with massed amounts of compression while Genrich plays his guitar through echo through fuzz through molasses through a block of amber and steeped in a basin of distortion. It’s reelin’, feelin’ squeelin’ and a-squallin’ all over the place. “Girl Call” is a further perpetuation of the previous track, and no less a breaking down of the senses. A damp electronic hiss permeates the air, interrupted by the eruption of a refried slapback bass note that reverberates and cracks open a primary fissure in the uneasy crust of silence. Then stillness. It erupts again, this time trimmed with feedback and cymbal swishes. Contact microphone picks up and magnifies all the tenseness in the air and makes it seem as though a wobbly dam of silence is about to burst... Which it does as Genrich cuts in to wail ceaselessly on guitar as a return to the slow, wallowing tempo at rune-cutting stone upon stone pace of a forced march into tomorrow. Genrich is one of the first German Rock guitarists who successfully channeled Jimi’s Electric Sky Church music while dispensing with its blues slurry, condensing the flurry of erratic notes and organic groove-tone placement into an electric storm. Neumeier methodically thrashes in the background while Trepte keeps a strong series of pulsation intact until Genrich slowly works up another elongated solo that burns, smokes and just melts into the ensemble’s roar. It’s a gloriously haphazard rush until it simmers down to allow Trepte’s bass to gain some sort of prominence. But this is only temporary for it’s soon overrun by a forcibly shaken-out storm emerging from the surrounding air. A series of high pitched squeals and squonks and it’s one rude match cut into “Next Time See You At The Dalai Lhama” that catches them in progress several minutes later where they’ve picked up into a hammering stride. Trepte has switched over to a two-note propulsion, ratcheted up to soar above the chaos of Neumeier and Genrich which is now a darkening cumulonimbus mushroom of slammed cymbals, tom-tom rolls and fuzz/wah-wah guitar patterns. Trepte maintains the same grinding sludge bass at yo-yo speed, only to reassemble the sequence of notes until it’s all running together into noisy unison when it crossfades into a field recording of the band freaking out and vibing up the countryside with whistles, shakers, congas and tambourines until a young lady innocently asks “Guru Guru?” With no response forthcoming, the album side has no choice but to submit to the run-off groove and end.Side two of “UFO” is far more abstract as it edges at points towards the outermost boundaries of stillness, as though confined to the innermost spaces and furthest points of ambient-dexterous reaches with two sonic elongations where no one really leads as everyone has the space to free-form out of the ether. Unidentified sounds emerge, which is appropriate for they usher in the ten-minute odyssey “UFO.” This is where the component parts of Guru Guru are broken down and strained into degenerate composites of crackly, intermittent amplifiers, echoed shards of guitar and contact microphone treatments translating once quiet surfaces into sandpapery static. A high-pitched tone builds with forgotten kettle-boiling-the-last teaspoon-of-water-into-steam qualities sound the alarm to prepare for approaching interstellar craft and the piece builds ominously with amplified, whirring guitar and gongs smashing against a background of amplified heat. Single chords are plucked out, bass strings are detuned, scraped and left to resound and croak in the open air. The mix throws down the right guitar channel as soon as Genrich has found a repeated phrase to let his Stratocaster rear and buck and explode upon as the increasing accumulation of sounds and random static all gather into a focussed dissonance that continues to unfold and unravel at the same time. Volume dials twist out pitch shifting sculptures while contact microphones pick up an amassing of signals into a decaying, arrhythmic improvisation. As the flaming meteorite remains true to its holding pattern, cats fight, sparks fly and the song is left to fry interminably on the third rail with electric guitar building and building as it echoes and echoes and echoes and echoes... The air then clears, only to rage once again with humid flurries of sonic scrap metal and hit cymbals until the freak-out they’ve been holding back on for so long finally lets loose just in time to be crossfaded into sounds of a leaky boat adrift upon the roiling wake and flotsam of the song’s crash landing. It quickly fades to reveal only a quiet drone and the onset of the dazed wonderment of “Der LSD-Marsch.” Circular, undulating guitar lines glide gently back down to earth while plastic flute dances shrill with trills, signaling a lone bass line to emerge unblinking at the edge of silence. Drums edge in, opening the door for the piece to expand into the sort of free-form-heavy-thing-always-mounting-and-on-the-brink-of-toppling-over that opened the album. One muted and hyphenated drum solo later, Genrich unleashes the last wailing guitar solo and before you know it: they’ve settled on a gradual fade out. If “UFO” were a double album, then time constraints would be of no concern and this and every other piece could traipse on thrice as long -- much like ‘Der LSD-Marsch” did in live performance as additional guitar solos, two separate drum solos and several hoarsely sung verses (“Every cell/ Owns a code!/ Every cell!/ Pierce your bone!/ Set you freeeee!/ LSDDDD!”) stamp it out forever. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
As demonstrated on their first pair of albums for the German Ohr label, Guru Guru were the loosest, most experimental and most out there of all power trios of the early seventies. And the title of their debut “UFO” album was appropriate, as many of the sounds within are not immediately identifiable. Although the drums and guitars are recognisable enough, lodged as they are between breeze blocks of heaving, sprawling abandon where all manner of contact microphone misuse, tweaking of volume knobs on both amplifiers and guitars while everything else coursed through all manner of fuzztone and echo boxes to make the studio air hang heavy and leaden as it curled at the corners like burning parchment and loads of fuck-knows-what-else. As a result, the five tracks that comprise “UFO” are saw-toothed, broken and resistant to all smoothness in their haphazard execution as they only approach the loosest organisation teased out from the knotty and matted wig of raw noise that hung atop their collective heads.
Guru Guru furiously nudge and burrow through silence with their mammoth ensemble clashes of processed signals, treated bass and guitar assaults pummeled senselessly to the ground by a battery of percussives that never seemed to quit. And on the rare occasion when it does relent, it’s just as easily content to simmer in a stew of disquietingly becalmed noise until inevitably re-boiling over into eruption. An altogether spasmodic musical proposition, “UFO” cascades fluid and free down corridors of improvisation caught in the throes of abandon with all apple carts of pop conventions overturned and in flames. It’s an ongoing rush in no hurry, heavy as bronze boots, looser than drunken shoelaces and all the while maintaining a top speed of about 8kph with enough elbow room to strike out at any (and all) directions at once.
Even in the studio, the three interlocking ‘Sektions’ that are Mani Neumeier (Percussion-Sektion), Uli Trepte (Bass-Sektion) and Ax Genrich (Gitarren-Sektion) play off each other as though from neighbouring Bavarian fields equipped with only a drum kit, guitars, amplifiers and a batch of cheap radio shop communication devices and play them like a trio of underground superheroes emerging 20,000 leagues beneath the sea to impart an new method of communication. Perhaps it’s really that Neumeier is a crazed and flailing octopus man with a stick from every limb and a penchant for high spirited thrash attacks, Ulrich Trepte an intercom/contact microphone obsessive dredging frequencies from the ocean floor while weighing bass lines as anchors and Ax “Victim” Genrich the proud carrier of a six-foot tall conch shell used not only for amplification (double stacked and rigged with a front line of wah-wah, fuzz and echo boxes as knobs on both guitar and amplifier are tweaked and twirled to yield maximum viscosity) but to part oceans as well. Or perhaps they only sound like it.
The improvisation of “Stone In” opens and features the sole lyrics of the album -- If you could call it that when Neumeier’s vocals intone the title with an accompanying set of words brayed out unintelligibly at the back of the ensuing racket, now commencing at the speed of a mid-level and high scoring pinball session. Neumeier hits his crash cymbal-positioned gong with drum sticks (not mallets) and it sounds like an oversized oil drum lid utilised as a pang while simultaneously sounding like a traffic accident as heard through a plastic tube half a block in length. Trepte is content to treat his rhythmic strumming bass with massed amounts of compression while Genrich plays his guitar through echo through fuzz through molasses through a block of amber and steeped in a basin of distortion. It’s reelin’, feelin’ squeelin’ and a-squallin’ all over the place. “Girl Call” is a further perpetuation of the previous track, and no less a breaking down of the senses. A damp electronic hiss permeates the air, interrupted by the eruption of a refried slapback bass note that reverberates and cracks open a primary fissure in the uneasy crust of silence. Then stillness. It erupts again, this time trimmed with feedback and cymbal swishes. Contact microphone picks up and magnifies all the tenseness in the air and makes it seem as though a wobbly dam of silence is about to burst... Which it does as Genrich cuts in to wail ceaselessly on guitar as a return to the slow, wallowing tempo at rune-cutting stone upon stone pace of a forced march into tomorrow. Genrich is one of the first German Rock guitarists who successfully channeled Jimi’s Electric Sky Church music while dispensing with its blues slurry, condensing the flurry of erratic notes and organic groove-tone placement into an electric storm. Neumeier methodically thrashes in the background while Trepte keeps a strong series of pulsation intact until Genrich slowly works up another elongated solo that burns, smokes and just melts into the ensemble’s roar. It’s a gloriously haphazard rush until it simmers down to allow Trepte’s bass to gain some sort of prominence. But this is only temporary for it’s soon overrun by a forcibly shaken-out storm emerging from the surrounding air. A series of high pitched squeals and squonks and it’s one rude match cut into “Next Time See You At The Dalai Lhama” that catches them in progress several minutes later where they’ve picked up into a hammering stride. Trepte has switched over to a two-note propulsion, ratcheted up to soar above the chaos of Neumeier and Genrich which is now a darkening cumulonimbus mushroom of slammed cymbals, tom-tom rolls and fuzz/wah-wah guitar patterns. Trepte maintains the same grinding sludge bass at yo-yo speed, only to reassemble the sequence of notes until it’s all running together into noisy unison when it crossfades into a field recording of the band freaking out and vibing up the countryside with whistles, shakers, congas and tambourines until a young lady innocently asks “Guru Guru?” With no response forthcoming, the album side has no choice but to submit to the run-off groove and end.
Side two of “UFO” is far more abstract as it edges at points towards the outermost boundaries of stillness, as though confined to the innermost spaces and furthest points of ambient-dexterous reaches with two sonic elongations where no one really leads as everyone has the space to free-form out of the ether. Unidentified sounds emerge, which is appropriate for they usher in the ten-minute odyssey “UFO.” This is where the component parts of Guru Guru are broken down and strained into degenerate composites of crackly, intermittent amplifiers, echoed shards of guitar and contact microphone treatments translating once quiet surfaces into sandpapery static. A high-pitched tone builds with forgotten kettle-boiling-the-last teaspoon-of-water-into-steam qualities sound the alarm to prepare for approaching interstellar craft and the piece builds ominously with amplified, whirring guitar and gongs smashing against a background of amplified heat. Single chords are plucked out, bass strings are detuned, scraped and left to resound and croak in the open air. The mix throws down the right guitar channel as soon as Genrich has found a repeated phrase to let his Stratocaster rear and buck and explode upon as the increasing accumulation of sounds and random static all gather into a focussed dissonance that continues to unfold and unravel at the same time. Volume dials twist out pitch shifting sculptures while contact microphones pick up an amassing of signals into a decaying, arrhythmic improvisation. As the flaming meteorite remains true to its holding pattern, cats fight, sparks fly and the song is left to fry interminably on the third rail with electric guitar building and building as it echoes and echoes and echoes and echoes... The air then clears, only to rage once again with humid flurries of sonic scrap metal and hit cymbals until the freak-out they’ve been holding back on for so long finally lets loose just in time to be crossfaded into sounds of a leaky boat adrift upon the roiling wake and flotsam of the song’s crash landing. It quickly fades to reveal only a quiet drone and the onset of the dazed wonderment of “Der LSD-Marsch.” Circular, undulating guitar lines glide gently back down to earth while plastic flute dances shrill with trills, signaling a lone bass line to emerge unblinking at the edge of silence. Drums edge in, opening the door for the piece to expand into the sort of free-form-heavy-thing-always-mounting-and-on-the-brink-of-toppling-over that opened the album. One muted and hyphenated drum solo later, Genrich unleashes the last wailing guitar solo and before you know it: they’ve settled on a gradual fade out. If “UFO” were a double album, then time constraints would be of no concern and this and every other piece could traipse on thrice as long -- much like ‘Der LSD-Marsch” did in live performance as additional guitar solos, two separate drum solos and several hoarsely sung verses (“Every cell/ Owns a code!/ Every cell!/ Pierce your bone!/ Set you freeeee!/ LSDDDD!”) stamp it out forever. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
review[-] by Ned RaggettGuru Guru's debut album shows why the band, even if it never reached the levels of appreciation and influence the likes of Can or Neu! did, still maintained a healthy reputation over the moons for its early work. Opening number "Stone In" has a quite appropriate title for a starting track -- it is wonderfully tripped out, to be sure, and if Manuel Gottsching was more of a guitar god, Genrich kicks up a lot of frazzled noise. The principle of the Trepte/Neumeier rhythm section seems to have been "find loud weird grooves and then play them, sometimes chaotically." Again, they aren't Can's wickedly effective combination of Holger Czukay and Jaki Leibezeit, but they're not just falling over themselves either. The title track is the most memorable song, almost entirely eschewing conventional rhythm for an inward collapse of feedback and noise that sounds either like the Stooges' "LA Blues" even more strung out or early Main with a conventional band lineup. "Girl Call" and "Next Time See You at the Dalai" (a classic example of a just-groansome enough Krautrock pun that only Germans seemed to love) makes for a good combination, the increasing freakiness of the one leading into the start-stop chug and explosion of the latter. Genrich really gets to show off a bit on both, demonstrating that there is such a thing as technical ability that doesn't equal pointless fret abuse. "Der LSD-Marsch" is actually the most conventional of the tracks -- while a good-enough slow burn up to a freakout (mostly provided by Neumeier's drum solo), it's too short to be truly epic and not otherwise distinguishable from many similar songs by the likes of Amon Duul II, say. For all that, though, it ends this enjoyable effort well enough.
Guru Guru's debut album shows why the band, even if it never reached the levels of appreciation and influence the likes of Can or Neu! did, still maintained a healthy reputation over the moons for its early work. Opening number "Stone In" has a quite appropriate title for a starting track -- it is wonderfully tripped out, to be sure, and if Manuel Gottsching was more of a guitar god, Genrich kicks up a lot of frazzled noise. The principle of the Trepte/Neumeier rhythm section seems to have been "find loud weird grooves and then play them, sometimes chaotically." Again, they aren't Can's wickedly effective combination of Holger Czukay and Jaki Leibezeit, but they're not just falling over themselves either. The title track is the most memorable song, almost entirely eschewing conventional rhythm for an inward collapse of feedback and noise that sounds either like the Stooges' "LA Blues" even more strung out or early Main with a conventional band lineup. "Girl Call" and "Next Time See You at the Dalai" (a classic example of a just-groansome enough Krautrock pun that only Germans seemed to love) makes for a good combination, the increasing freakiness of the one leading into the start-stop chug and explosion of the latter. Genrich really gets to show off a bit on both, demonstrating that there is such a thing as technical ability that doesn't equal pointless fret abuse. "Der LSD-Marsch" is actually the most conventional of the tracks -- while a good-enough slow burn up to a freakout (mostly provided by Neumeier's drum solo), it's too short to be truly epic and not otherwise distinguishable from many similar songs by the likes of Amon Duul II, say. For all that, though, it ends this enjoyable effort well enough.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:05 (thirteen years ago)
a couple of fabulous albums here. I love all the krautrock that's placed so far and it's nice to see others discovering it and enjoying it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:06 (thirteen years ago)
And of course this is a stone cold classic. I am surprised it placed so low.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:10 (thirteen years ago)
I guess there's not enough sci-fi obsessed stoners on ILM.
<cough>
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:11 (thirteen years ago)
I guess we'll just have to see where Space Ritual ends up.
278. GENESIS Foxtrot (933 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #12 for 1972 , #250 overall | Acclaimed: #1098http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/463/MI0002463499.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1P9AuGH530Oy9JEW5XVuxo
This band's defenders--fans of manual dexterity, aggregate IQ, "stagecraft," etc.--claim this as an improvement. And indeed, Tony Banks's organ crescendos are less totalistic, Steve Hackett's guitar is audible, and Peter Gabriel's lyrics take on medievalism, real-estate speculators, and the history of the world. This latter is the apparent subject of the 22:57-minute "Supper's Ready," which also suggests that Gabriel has a sense of humor and knows something about rock and roll. Don't expect me to get more specific, though--I never even cared what "Gates of Eden" "really meant." C -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineFoxtrot is where Genesis began to pull all of its varied inspirations into a cohesive sound -- which doesn't necessarily mean that the album is streamlined, for this is a group that always was grandiose even when they were cohesive, or even when they rocked, which they truly do for the first time here. Indeed, the startling thing about the opening "Watcher of the Skies" is that it's the first time that Genesis attacked like a rock band, playing with a visceral power. There's might and majesty here, and it, along with "Get 'Em Out by Friday," is the truest sign that Genesis has grown muscle without abandoning the whimsy. Certainly, they've rarely sounded as fantastical or odd as they do on the epic 22-minute closer "Supper's Ready," a nearly side-long suite that remains one of the group's signature moments. It ebbs, flows, teases, and taunts, see-sawing between coiled instrumental attacks and delicate pastoral fairy tales. If Peter Gabriel remained a rather inscrutable lyricist, his gift for imagery is abundant, as there are passages throughout the album that are hauntingly evocative in their precious prose. But what impresses most about Foxtrot is how that precociousness is delivered with pure musical force. This is the rare art-rock album that excels at both the art and the rock, and it's a pinnacle of the genre (and decade) because of it.
Foxtrot is where Genesis began to pull all of its varied inspirations into a cohesive sound -- which doesn't necessarily mean that the album is streamlined, for this is a group that always was grandiose even when they were cohesive, or even when they rocked, which they truly do for the first time here. Indeed, the startling thing about the opening "Watcher of the Skies" is that it's the first time that Genesis attacked like a rock band, playing with a visceral power. There's might and majesty here, and it, along with "Get 'Em Out by Friday," is the truest sign that Genesis has grown muscle without abandoning the whimsy. Certainly, they've rarely sounded as fantastical or odd as they do on the epic 22-minute closer "Supper's Ready," a nearly side-long suite that remains one of the group's signature moments. It ebbs, flows, teases, and taunts, see-sawing between coiled instrumental attacks and delicate pastoral fairy tales. If Peter Gabriel remained a rather inscrutable lyricist, his gift for imagery is abundant, as there are passages throughout the album that are hauntingly evocative in their precious prose. But what impresses most about Foxtrot is how that precociousness is delivered with pure musical force. This is the rare art-rock album that excels at both the art and the rock, and it's a pinnacle of the genre (and decade) because of it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
I'm hoping Space Ritual places top 50 at least.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:18 (thirteen years ago)
Woah, WAY TOO LOW for the Runaways' s/t. Veg otm about how great American Nights is.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:19 (thirteen years ago)
if it isn't top 20 i shall banish myself from ILM forever.
― stirmonster, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:20 (thirteen years ago)
maybe.
I guess I didn't expect A.R. & Machines to place much higher than it did, but that album is so great. Definitely up there with the best of the krautrock canon.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:21 (thirteen years ago)
In other news I'm loving Magma's basslines.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:21 (thirteen years ago)
277. VAN DER GRAAF GENERATOR Still Life (935 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #10 for 1976 , #642 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/729/MI0001729347.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2FJaS5kootX9CkS4DxL2eW
Still Life has a degree of continuity from its predecessor (in fact, two of its six tracks were actually recorded during the Godbluff sessions). The changes aren't dramatic, yet there's definitely a sense of progression here as the band evens out its spikier edges and smoothes down some of its jarring rhythmic patterns for music that is more fluid but no less powerful. While the anthemic "Pilgrims" and the sedate "My Room" revisit some of the previously charted peaceful, pastoral territory, "La Rossa" epitomizes Still Life's fresh sonic dimension and finds the band exploring a different modus operandi. Sudden changes were a Van der Graaf Generator staple, but this track seamlessly combines diametrically opposed moods, moving almost imperceptibly from soft to hard, light to heavy, quiet to loud. Hammill, who here paints himself in an unflattering light as a frantic organ-grinder's monkey, still seems to be in the thrall of the watery femme fatale who made his life such a misery on the earlier "Octopus." The song is a textbook case of the male psyche's simultaneous fear of, and desire for, engulfment by the feminine: "Take me, take me now and hold me / Deep inside your ocean body," Hammill pleads, "Wash me as some flotsam to the shore / There leave me lying evermore! / Drown me, drown me now and hold me down / Before your naked hunger." No Van der Graaf Generator record would be complete without a couple of lengthy philosophical treatises, and Still Life doesn't disappoint. The title track ponders a future time without physical decline and death. For some, such a vision might provide brighter lyrical possibilities, but in Hammill's hands the prospect of immortality, of course, becomes the stuff of ennui and eternal torture. On "Childlike Faith in Childhood's End," he launches into another meditation on the meaning of life, returning to by-now familiar themes and dilemmas and coming up with a familiar response: "Existence is a stage on which we pass / A sleepwalk trick for mind and heart / It's hopeless, I know, but onward I must go." Overall, Still Life isn't perhaps quite as immediate in its impact asPawn Hearts, but it still ranks as a career highlight. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Steven McDonaldVDGG's second step on the mid-'70s comeback trail saw Peter Hammill attempting to meld the introspective and the cosmic throughout, though this did not stop him from taking a dead run at a grandiose concept or two -- the consequences of immortality on the title track, and the grand fate of humanity on the epic "Childlike Faith in Childhood's End." The theme of humane cooperation informs the opening "Pilgrims," while "La Rossa" is an epic tale of desire fulfilled (a story that would be concluded on Hammill's solo album, Over). The true highlight, however, is the beautiful, pensive "My Room (Waiting for Wonderland)," with its echoes of imagination and loss. Hammill did not achieve such a level of painful beauty again until "This Side of the Looking Glass" on Over.
VDGG's second step on the mid-'70s comeback trail saw Peter Hammill attempting to meld the introspective and the cosmic throughout, though this did not stop him from taking a dead run at a grandiose concept or two -- the consequences of immortality on the title track, and the grand fate of humanity on the epic "Childlike Faith in Childhood's End." The theme of humane cooperation informs the opening "Pilgrims," while "La Rossa" is an epic tale of desire fulfilled (a story that would be concluded on Hammill's solo album, Over). The true highlight, however, is the beautiful, pensive "My Room (Waiting for Wonderland)," with its echoes of imagination and loss. Hammill did not achieve such a level of painful beauty again until "This Side of the Looking Glass" on Over.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:27 (thirteen years ago)
ok, i'm digging this green journey album. bet i'd like it more after work w/ some substance abuse
― Mordy, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:28 (thirteen years ago)
276. T. REX The Slider (944 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #21 for 1972 , #521 overall | Acclaimed: #812http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/915/MI0001915453.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/24QRkhZ3ZYMdtcLn8AFkar
It seems to be layed out for us in Ringo Starr's incredible grainy high contrast b&w cover photograph, but what is it? Boy, man, girl -- it's not a woman but these days you never know. The human who writes the one graph record blurbs for Billboard looked at the picture and came up with an astute connection: Marc Bolan looks like a silent film star, a tossled Theda Bara, a black-haired scarecrow Lillian Gish. It's an amazing photograph, even more so on another level when you consider who shot it: Ten years ago England's children were creaming over the photographer; today several million British kids are faunching over this weird hermaphrodeity, this electric metal faun, Marc Bolan, forking over pounds and new pence for singles and albums by the million, shimmying and orgazumming over the Slider's hypnotic, synapse-searing brand of Robot Rock. Where will it end? Certainly not in England, where the T. Rex phenomenon had captured the hearts and minds of yet another generation -- 14 million records sold in three years, more than the Beatles or Rolling Stones ever did, more than Billy Fury, Cilla Black, Adam Faith and Lulu rolled together. The cat's got the whole island wired!But maybe not in these United States where the good Warner Brothers paid more than a million fazools to Marc's own record works for the American rights to his music, hoping to laugh all the way to the bank on the teeny shoulders of this latest of Monsters. The fickle yank record-buying public was not so impressed: Bolan's first album for Warner, Electric Warrior, (there's an earlier and worse one on Blue Thumb) sold only moderately well, with the simian single "Bang a Gong (Get It On)," with its imagery of motive copulation and rhythmic dullard/hoodlum ambiance, going Top 10 all over the land late last winter.And so here comes The Slider, released in late August in the eye of a "T. Rextasy" hype hurricane, having already blasted off back home to the tune of ringing cashboxes and hysteria-crazed squeals from the now usual wet-pantied audiences. Bravely, the Warners rushed two separate singles into the breach: "Metal Guru" ended up buying the farm in every market from Delaware to Burbank except for the lovely village of Detroit (where else?), where it did quite well, while "Telegram Sam," the archetypal Bolan strutting robotic, died a thousand deaths from sea to shining sea. Just so. I can imagine the ghosts of the crotchety old brothers Warner going Hmmmmm...Which is unfortunate, because T. Rex/M. Bolan have cranked out maybe the strangest, most viscerally foreign sounds to emerge from the whole of western rock & roll, something so new as to be downright outrageous and scary yet something so familiar, a hybrid of Chuck Berry rock & raunch grafted to the most monolithic, surreal of Beatle orchestrations -- indeed, it seems that almost any of The Slider's tunes could have come from the Beatles' White Album. No wonder Ringo is so interested (he's even made a film of Bolan's English performances): the aging moptop is probably vicariously getting his ego-rocks off while suffering from a nagging case of nostalgia-past shock. It must be tough for the old boy not to be screamed at anymore.In any case, The Slider (recorded in Paris and Copenhagen) starts off the insidious but catchy "Metal Guru" with the diabolical castrato caterwauling of Messrs. Howard Kalan and Mark Volman, ex-Mothers presently reincarnated as the Phlorescent Leech and Eddie, perfectly high-strung companions for Bolan's leap into musical purgatory. Their somehow perverse wailing is the perfect foil for young Marc's macho yet omnisexual car fetish (Stick shift as lingam? Bucket seat as yoni? Exhaust pipe as anus?): "Metal Guru has it been/Just like silver-studded sabre-tooth dream/I'll be clean you know/Pollution machine/Oh Metal Guru, is it you?""Mystic Lady," with its gorgeous surreal chorus, is a lovely lump of flash, slow and easy, the most sophisticated piece on the album. "Rock On" gets us back into the cybernetic metal-man effect as does "Baby Boomerang," both devoid of any meaning other than you can dance to it (more about that later) and that their scat-dada lyrics are fun to sing. Other than that, Marc's lyrics read like those in a vintage 1959 Anthony Burgess speculative sci-fi yarn about the androgynous teenagers of the future."The Slider" is a slow and very sad song with an ominous thump beginning and clattering, disturbed delirium tremens rattlesnakes:I have never kissedA car beforeIt's like a doorI have always, alwaysGrown my own beforeAll schools are strangeAnd when I'm sadI sssllliiide.Whew! What? Where am I? Slide into what? The album gets scarier as it goes along. But the psychic energy is startin' to build: "Spaceball Ricochet" is an acoustic trance tune that leads into "Buick Mackane" (will you be my girl?), two minutes of more chilling glandular energy.But side two is the nut. I can't listen to "Telegram Sam" (as loud as the speakers will bear) without leaping up and doing the stiff gyrating dance we made up for the whole album one stoned night. The dance is called The Robot (shoulder and knee joints rigid, elbow joints flexible but keep these hands pointingly straight and move like a zombie. Hard to do with a partner, though). "Telegram Sam" ain't just a tune, it's a machine, even revving up a little crankily at first, then slipping into a comfortable, hard-roaring gear that never lets up. The curious cast that inhabits the lyrics -- Telegram Sam ("you're my main man"), Golden Nose Slim, Jungle faced Jake and Purple Pie Pete ("your lips are like Lightning/ girls melt in the heat") -- they're all manifestations of the Bolan iconography: they're all himself."Rabbit Fighter" moves on with a pretty flare guitar (Bolan's not bad) and a tribute to Moondog, the saint of Sixth Avenue. "Baby Strange" is another spellbinder, the horniest of all the little pacers on this album. "Ballrooms of Mars" deals with more demons and black angels, but all this creepy crawly stuff is starting to get tiresome. Marc ends up more a purveyor of psychedelic baby food that would-be astral traveller. There's another one of those nice guitar lattices, more castrati action and another heaving orchestral come.The final song, "Main Man," ends the album on a fitting note, a love song from Marc Bolan to himself: "Bolan likes to rock now, yes he does, yes he does..." The tune is a slow mesmerizer, a charm, a final soothing little slug of precious ego. It hits you in the end, after you've made the trip a couple of times. Everyone Marc's singing about is himself. He's his own Main Man.A true phenomenon. I hope they're all happy together. -- Stephen Davis, RS
But maybe not in these United States where the good Warner Brothers paid more than a million fazools to Marc's own record works for the American rights to his music, hoping to laugh all the way to the bank on the teeny shoulders of this latest of Monsters. The fickle yank record-buying public was not so impressed: Bolan's first album for Warner, Electric Warrior, (there's an earlier and worse one on Blue Thumb) sold only moderately well, with the simian single "Bang a Gong (Get It On)," with its imagery of motive copulation and rhythmic dullard/hoodlum ambiance, going Top 10 all over the land late last winter.
And so here comes The Slider, released in late August in the eye of a "T. Rextasy" hype hurricane, having already blasted off back home to the tune of ringing cashboxes and hysteria-crazed squeals from the now usual wet-pantied audiences. Bravely, the Warners rushed two separate singles into the breach: "Metal Guru" ended up buying the farm in every market from Delaware to Burbank except for the lovely village of Detroit (where else?), where it did quite well, while "Telegram Sam," the archetypal Bolan strutting robotic, died a thousand deaths from sea to shining sea. Just so. I can imagine the ghosts of the crotchety old brothers Warner going Hmmmmm...
Which is unfortunate, because T. Rex/M. Bolan have cranked out maybe the strangest, most viscerally foreign sounds to emerge from the whole of western rock & roll, something so new as to be downright outrageous and scary yet something so familiar, a hybrid of Chuck Berry rock & raunch grafted to the most monolithic, surreal of Beatle orchestrations -- indeed, it seems that almost any of The Slider's tunes could have come from the Beatles' White Album. No wonder Ringo is so interested (he's even made a film of Bolan's English performances): the aging moptop is probably vicariously getting his ego-rocks off while suffering from a nagging case of nostalgia-past shock. It must be tough for the old boy not to be screamed at anymore.
In any case, The Slider (recorded in Paris and Copenhagen) starts off the insidious but catchy "Metal Guru" with the diabolical castrato caterwauling of Messrs. Howard Kalan and Mark Volman, ex-Mothers presently reincarnated as the Phlorescent Leech and Eddie, perfectly high-strung companions for Bolan's leap into musical purgatory. Their somehow perverse wailing is the perfect foil for young Marc's macho yet omnisexual car fetish (Stick shift as lingam? Bucket seat as yoni? Exhaust pipe as anus?): "Metal Guru has it been/Just like silver-studded sabre-tooth dream/I'll be clean you know/Pollution machine/Oh Metal Guru, is it you?"
"Mystic Lady," with its gorgeous surreal chorus, is a lovely lump of flash, slow and easy, the most sophisticated piece on the album. "Rock On" gets us back into the cybernetic metal-man effect as does "Baby Boomerang," both devoid of any meaning other than you can dance to it (more about that later) and that their scat-dada lyrics are fun to sing. Other than that, Marc's lyrics read like those in a vintage 1959 Anthony Burgess speculative sci-fi yarn about the androgynous teenagers of the future.
"The Slider" is a slow and very sad song with an ominous thump beginning and clattering, disturbed delirium tremens rattlesnakes:
I have never kissedA car beforeIt's like a doorI have always, alwaysGrown my own beforeAll schools are strangeAnd when I'm sadI sssllliiide.
Whew! What? Where am I? Slide into what? The album gets scarier as it goes along. But the psychic energy is startin' to build: "Spaceball Ricochet" is an acoustic trance tune that leads into "Buick Mackane" (will you be my girl?), two minutes of more chilling glandular energy.
But side two is the nut. I can't listen to "Telegram Sam" (as loud as the speakers will bear) without leaping up and doing the stiff gyrating dance we made up for the whole album one stoned night. The dance is called The Robot (shoulder and knee joints rigid, elbow joints flexible but keep these hands pointingly straight and move like a zombie. Hard to do with a partner, though). "Telegram Sam" ain't just a tune, it's a machine, even revving up a little crankily at first, then slipping into a comfortable, hard-roaring gear that never lets up. The curious cast that inhabits the lyrics -- Telegram Sam ("you're my main man"), Golden Nose Slim, Jungle faced Jake and Purple Pie Pete ("your lips are like Lightning/ girls melt in the heat") -- they're all manifestations of the Bolan iconography: they're all himself."Rabbit Fighter" moves on with a pretty flare guitar (Bolan's not bad) and a tribute to Moondog, the saint of Sixth Avenue. "Baby Strange" is another spellbinder, the horniest of all the little pacers on this album. "Ballrooms of Mars" deals with more demons and black angels, but all this creepy crawly stuff is starting to get tiresome. Marc ends up more a purveyor of psychedelic baby food that would-be astral traveller. There's another one of those nice guitar lattices, more castrati action and another heaving orchestral come.
The final song, "Main Man," ends the album on a fitting note, a love song from Marc Bolan to himself: "Bolan likes to rock now, yes he does, yes he does..." The tune is a slow mesmerizer, a charm, a final soothing little slug of precious ego. It hits you in the end, after you've made the trip a couple of times. Everyone Marc's singing about is himself. He's his own Main Man.
A true phenomenon. I hope they're all happy together. -- Stephen Davis, RS
review[-] by Steve HueyBuoyed by two U.K. number one singles in "Telegram Sam" and "Metal Guru," The Slider became T. Rex's most popular record on both sides of the Atlantic, despite the fact that it produced no hits in the U.S. The Slider essentially replicates all the virtues of Electric Warrior, crammed with effortless hooks and trashy fun. All of Bolan's signatures are here -- mystical folk-tinged ballads, overt sexual come-ons crooned over sleazy, bopping boogies, loopy nonsense poetry, and a mastery of the three-minute pop song form. The main difference is that the trippy mix of Electric Warrior is replaced by a fuller, more immediate-sounding production. Bolan's guitar has a harder bite, the backing choruses are more up-front, and the arrangements are thicker-sounding, even introducing a string section on some cuts (both ballads and rockers). Even with the beefier production, T. Rex still doesn't sound nearly as heavy as many of the bands it influenced (and even a few of its glam contemporaries), but that's partly intentional -- Bolan's love of a good groove takes precedence over fast tempos or high-volume crunch. Lyrically, Bolan's flair for the sublimely ridiculous is fully intact, but he has way too much style for The Slider to sound truly stupid, especially given the playful, knowing wink in his delivery. It's nearly impossible not to get caught up in the irresistible rush of melodies and cheery good times. Even if it treads largely the same ground as Electric Warrior, The Slider is flawlessly executed, and every bit the classic that its predecessor is.
Buoyed by two U.K. number one singles in "Telegram Sam" and "Metal Guru," The Slider became T. Rex's most popular record on both sides of the Atlantic, despite the fact that it produced no hits in the U.S. The Slider essentially replicates all the virtues of Electric Warrior, crammed with effortless hooks and trashy fun. All of Bolan's signatures are here -- mystical folk-tinged ballads, overt sexual come-ons crooned over sleazy, bopping boogies, loopy nonsense poetry, and a mastery of the three-minute pop song form. The main difference is that the trippy mix of Electric Warrior is replaced by a fuller, more immediate-sounding production. Bolan's guitar has a harder bite, the backing choruses are more up-front, and the arrangements are thicker-sounding, even introducing a string section on some cuts (both ballads and rockers). Even with the beefier production, T. Rex still doesn't sound nearly as heavy as many of the bands it influenced (and even a few of its glam contemporaries), but that's partly intentional -- Bolan's love of a good groove takes precedence over fast tempos or high-volume crunch. Lyrically, Bolan's flair for the sublimely ridiculous is fully intact, but he has way too much style for The Slider to sound truly stupid, especially given the playful, knowing wink in his delivery. It's nearly impossible not to get caught up in the irresistible rush of melodies and cheery good times. Even if it treads largely the same ground as Electric Warrior, The Slider is flawlessly executed, and every bit the classic that its predecessor is.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:35 (thirteen years ago)
xp :)
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:36 (thirteen years ago)
Wow that's really low for The Slider.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:38 (thirteen years ago)
275. KRAFTWERK Kraftwerk 2 (945 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #769 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/926/MI0001926834.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Other musicians would join Kraftwerk later, yet on the second Kraftwerk LP they were down to the duo of Ralf and Florian alone (with much aid from Conny Plank) making liberal use of multi-tracking - a rarity in those days, as multi-track quality studios were few and far between - and the results were possibly the strangest of Kraftwerk's entire output, being dark, strange and very avant-garde. Live performances at this time also featured: Plato Riviera (bass) and Emil Schult (guitar). Emil was also Kraftwerk's technician and artist, responsible for managing both the sound and presentation of the band. -- Cosmic Egg
review[-] by Ned RaggettLike its predecessor (similarly designed right down to the traffic cone cover, though green instead of red), Kraftwerk 2 has never been properly re-released, giving it the same lost-classic aura as the first album, or at least lost, period. Thankfully, bootleg reissues in 1993 restored it to wider public listening; even more so than Kraftwerk 1, its lack of official reappearance is a mystery, in that the band is clearly well on its way to the later Kraftwerk sound of fame. Stripped down to the Hütter/Schneider duo for this release, and again working with Conrad Plank as coproducer and engineer (this album alone demonstrates his ability to create performances combining technological precision and warmth), Kraftwerk here start exploring the possibilities of keyboards and electronic percussion in detail. Given that the band's drummers were gone, such a shift was already in the wind, but it's the enthusiastic grappling with drum machines and their possibilities that makes Kraftwerk 2 noteworthy. The nearly side-long effort "KlingKlang," which would later give the name to the band's studio and which predicts later lengthy efforts like "Autobahn," shows how the duo is still working toward its future styles. Steady beats are sometimes sped up and slowed down; more freeform performances on flute, violin, and keyboard remain present (rather than honing in on a core melody); and again, no vocals yet grace the recordings. On the second side, the more rock-oriented origins of the group still cling on, mostly without any percussion whatsoever: the distorted solo guitar start of "Strom," the guitar/bass duets of "Spule 4" (queasy) and "Wellenlänge" (quite beautiful and very indicative of many '90s space rock efforts). Ultimately as with Kraftwerk 1, Kraftwerk 2 isn't the "classic" sound of the band, but it's astonishingly worthy on its own, well worth seeking out.
Like its predecessor (similarly designed right down to the traffic cone cover, though green instead of red), Kraftwerk 2 has never been properly re-released, giving it the same lost-classic aura as the first album, or at least lost, period. Thankfully, bootleg reissues in 1993 restored it to wider public listening; even more so than Kraftwerk 1, its lack of official reappearance is a mystery, in that the band is clearly well on its way to the later Kraftwerk sound of fame. Stripped down to the Hütter/Schneider duo for this release, and again working with Conrad Plank as coproducer and engineer (this album alone demonstrates his ability to create performances combining technological precision and warmth), Kraftwerk here start exploring the possibilities of keyboards and electronic percussion in detail. Given that the band's drummers were gone, such a shift was already in the wind, but it's the enthusiastic grappling with drum machines and their possibilities that makes Kraftwerk 2 noteworthy. The nearly side-long effort "KlingKlang," which would later give the name to the band's studio and which predicts later lengthy efforts like "Autobahn," shows how the duo is still working toward its future styles. Steady beats are sometimes sped up and slowed down; more freeform performances on flute, violin, and keyboard remain present (rather than honing in on a core melody); and again, no vocals yet grace the recordings. On the second side, the more rock-oriented origins of the group still cling on, mostly without any percussion whatsoever: the distorted solo guitar start of "Strom," the guitar/bass duets of "Spule 4" (queasy) and "Wellenlänge" (quite beautiful and very indicative of many '90s space rock efforts). Ultimately as with Kraftwerk 1, Kraftwerk 2 isn't the "classic" sound of the band, but it's astonishingly worthy on its own, well worth seeking out.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:40 (thirteen years ago)
Is there a way of seeing your original ballot? I can't for the life of me remember what I voted for...
― Greatjon, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:44 (thirteen years ago)
274. THE SAINTS (I'm) Stranded (947 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #30 for 1977 , #1015 overall | Acclaimed: #1473http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/357/MI0002357272.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/10hYjKl40Yu64cV3313uhU
With its intermittent hooks, droning feedback, shouted vocals, and oldie about incest, this album from Australia achieves the great mean of punk style. Five years from now, it could sound like a classic or a naive one-shot. At the moment, it's recommended only to addicts. B+ -- R. ChristgauEvery decade's snotty kids are the same, as Australia's Saints handily proved. These Brisbane punks emerged in '77 with a raw, driving sound recalling the Pretty Things of more than a decade earlier. On (I'm) Stranded, Chris Bailey sings with the same irritable snarl that band's Phil May had back when he was considered competition for Mick Jagger. The rest of the Saints (guitarist Ed Kuepper, drummer Ivor Hay and bassist Kym Bradshaw) respond in kind, issuing sheets of rough, gray rock'n'roll noise, including the title track, a pioneering international punk hit. -- Trouser PressAustralia's Sex Pistorls, this album is credited with kick-starting the Fear-East Punk revolts. The title track "(I'm) Stranded" must speak to the same psychology that makes Men at Work's "Down Under" (1981) the unofficial Aussie National anthem. I'm stranded, is sonically a very interesting album. Sounding like it was recorded with only one microphone, there is almost no serparaton between drums ,gutar, bass and vocals. The whole assemblage rattles, drones and throbs. Sounds bloody fantastic. -- Woebot
Every decade's snotty kids are the same, as Australia's Saints handily proved. These Brisbane punks emerged in '77 with a raw, driving sound recalling the Pretty Things of more than a decade earlier. On (I'm) Stranded, Chris Bailey sings with the same irritable snarl that band's Phil May had back when he was considered competition for Mick Jagger. The rest of the Saints (guitarist Ed Kuepper, drummer Ivor Hay and bassist Kym Bradshaw) respond in kind, issuing sheets of rough, gray rock'n'roll noise, including the title track, a pioneering international punk hit. -- Trouser Press
Australia's Sex Pistorls, this album is credited with kick-starting the Fear-East Punk revolts. The title track "(I'm) Stranded" must speak to the same psychology that makes Men at Work's "Down Under" (1981) the unofficial Aussie National anthem. I'm stranded, is sonically a very interesting album. Sounding like it was recorded with only one microphone, there is almost no serparaton between drums ,gutar, bass and vocals. The whole assemblage rattles, drones and throbs. Sounds bloody fantastic. -- Woebot
review[-] by Jack RabidThe Saints were to Australia what the Sex Pistols were to Britain and the Ramones to America. Picking up the germ planted by the defunct Stooges, MC5, Velvet Underground, and New York Dolls, The Saints sparked the Far East punk rock movement with a blasting, blistering, scorching sound no one had heard before. Moreover, The Saints were blitzing the unsuspecting in their home of Brisbane in 1973, long before the Sex Pistols or the Ramones had even begun. Australians today hold The Saints in greater reverence than any rock band in its history, save for the Easybeats. After their incendiary, self-released debut 7" single "(I'm) Stranded" b/w "No Time" blew minds of a raving British press on import in 1976, subsequent sales of the single proved to the industry that the upstart punk movement was in fact commercially viable. The Saints pocketed a worldwide deal with EMI Australia, who rush-released "(I'm) Stranded" in Australia and Britain (and in the U.S., on the heavyweight punk label of the time, Sire Records) to capitalize on the new trend. This first LP was actually nothing but eight rough-and-raw demo tracks the band had no intention of releasing, plus the two sides of the much better, cleaner-sounding single. The heavy, buzzing racket on the eight demo tracks borders on unintelligible, they're so cheaply recorded, but nothing can stop a collection of cracklers this intense, with two absolutely astounding, blues-heavy ballads thrown in for great balance -- "Messin' with the Kid" and "Story of Love" drip with genuine, bratty soul. Of the hard-fast tracks, even today's punk fans are amazed at the sheer tenacity and outright fire of "Nights in Venice," "One Way Street," and "Erotic Neurotic." Hear history burning.
The Saints were to Australia what the Sex Pistols were to Britain and the Ramones to America. Picking up the germ planted by the defunct Stooges, MC5, Velvet Underground, and New York Dolls, The Saints sparked the Far East punk rock movement with a blasting, blistering, scorching sound no one had heard before. Moreover, The Saints were blitzing the unsuspecting in their home of Brisbane in 1973, long before the Sex Pistols or the Ramones had even begun. Australians today hold The Saints in greater reverence than any rock band in its history, save for the Easybeats. After their incendiary, self-released debut 7" single "(I'm) Stranded" b/w "No Time" blew minds of a raving British press on import in 1976, subsequent sales of the single proved to the industry that the upstart punk movement was in fact commercially viable. The Saints pocketed a worldwide deal with EMI Australia, who rush-released "(I'm) Stranded" in Australia and Britain (and in the U.S., on the heavyweight punk label of the time, Sire Records) to capitalize on the new trend. This first LP was actually nothing but eight rough-and-raw demo tracks the band had no intention of releasing, plus the two sides of the much better, cleaner-sounding single. The heavy, buzzing racket on the eight demo tracks borders on unintelligible, they're so cheaply recorded, but nothing can stop a collection of cracklers this intense, with two absolutely astounding, blues-heavy ballads thrown in for great balance -- "Messin' with the Kid" and "Story of Love" drip with genuine, bratty soul. Of the hard-fast tracks, even today's punk fans are amazed at the sheer tenacity and outright fire of "Nights in Venice," "One Way Street," and "Erotic Neurotic." Hear history burning.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 18:50 (thirteen years ago)
273. EDGAR BROUGHTON BAND Sing Brother Sing (952 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #277 for 1970http://991.com/NewGallery/Edgar-Broughton-Band-Sing-Brother-Sing-72442.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0qDyH9NcCgWoWVcM9m9VtY
review[-] by Mike DeGagneSing Brother Sing almost equals the psychedelic cohesiveness and insouciant air of the Edgar Broughton Band's debut album, but, even without doing so, it still stands as their second strongest release. All the songs on Sing Brother Sing wallow in a hippie-ish, kick-backed experimental blues-rock style, extenuated to perfection by Broughton's resonant grumble and vocal staunchness, and surrounded by chem lab mixtures of guitar and bass. The group's peculiar instrumental outputs give odd tracks such as "There's No Vibrations but Wait," "Momma's Reward," and the two parts of "Psychopath" progressive rock-type tendencies with a homemade wit, which would be the band's most daunting characteristic outside of Edgar Broughton's singing. Although the Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa comparisons are unavoidable, the rest of Sing Brother Sing's facets and odd instrumental avenues emit a distinctness that remains the whole album through. The quaint but humorous English air that encircles "Officer Dan" and "Old Gopher" reflects Broughton's adept satirical approach, maybe without him even knowing it. Held together with elements of jazz, rock, and blues, the music on Sing Brother Sing is captivating because of its raw integrity, and in its refusal to adhere to structure, formula, or to travel a beaten path.
Sing Brother Sing almost equals the psychedelic cohesiveness and insouciant air of the Edgar Broughton Band's debut album, but, even without doing so, it still stands as their second strongest release. All the songs on Sing Brother Sing wallow in a hippie-ish, kick-backed experimental blues-rock style, extenuated to perfection by Broughton's resonant grumble and vocal staunchness, and surrounded by chem lab mixtures of guitar and bass. The group's peculiar instrumental outputs give odd tracks such as "There's No Vibrations but Wait," "Momma's Reward," and the two parts of "Psychopath" progressive rock-type tendencies with a homemade wit, which would be the band's most daunting characteristic outside of Edgar Broughton's singing. Although the Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa comparisons are unavoidable, the rest of Sing Brother Sing's facets and odd instrumental avenues emit a distinctness that remains the whole album through. The quaint but humorous English air that encircles "Officer Dan" and "Old Gopher" reflects Broughton's adept satirical approach, maybe without him even knowing it. Held together with elements of jazz, rock, and blues, the music on Sing Brother Sing is captivating because of its raw integrity, and in its refusal to adhere to structure, formula, or to travel a beaten path.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:00 (thirteen years ago)
271. BUZZCOCKS Spiral Scratch EP (953 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #1 for 1977 , #31 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/339/MI0002339720.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2Jp0XPMQyHaj9KxHLnSsCQ
Inspired by the Sex Pistols, Manchester (England) natives Howard Devoto and Pete Shelley formed the Buzzcocks in 1976, specializing in high-energy, staccato delivery of stripped-down pop songs. With John Maher (drums) and Steve Diggle (bass), the Buzzcocks cutSpiral Scratch, the UK's first self-released punk record. Though ragged and rudimentary, the 7-inch features the frantic, minimalistic pop stylings that would characterize the group's work and, with songs like "Breakdown" and "Boredom," remains a seminal artifact of '70s DIY. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Alex OggThe Buzzcocks' self-financed debut is every bit as important as the Sex Pistols' "Anarchy in the UK" in the establishment of the U.K. punk scene. And playing those two cultural artifacts back to back two decades later, it is the Pistols' effort which sounds more like the museum piece. Spiral Scratch's hand-pressed, blurry black-and-white sleeve housed four tracks -- each one a uniquely compelling experience, marrying raw, youthful zest with belligerent intelligence. The EP's release achieved several things at once. It opened up the independent scene, making D.I.Y. labels the natural springboard for aspiring musicians. It gave the punk scene a second regional base in Manchester, and it expanded punk's vocabulary beyond the outright nihilism evinced by London bands. And, even at this stage, the band's musicianship was a joy to behold, particularly the uninhibited drumming of John Maher. This was also, bootlegs apart, the only chance to hear Howard Devoto front the band before he left to form Magazine. For more of the same, check out the Time's Up album, a classic bootleg of the group's early days which has seen official release.
The Buzzcocks' self-financed debut is every bit as important as the Sex Pistols' "Anarchy in the UK" in the establishment of the U.K. punk scene. And playing those two cultural artifacts back to back two decades later, it is the Pistols' effort which sounds more like the museum piece. Spiral Scratch's hand-pressed, blurry black-and-white sleeve housed four tracks -- each one a uniquely compelling experience, marrying raw, youthful zest with belligerent intelligence. The EP's release achieved several things at once. It opened up the independent scene, making D.I.Y. labels the natural springboard for aspiring musicians. It gave the punk scene a second regional base in Manchester, and it expanded punk's vocabulary beyond the outright nihilism evinced by London bands. And, even at this stage, the band's musicianship was a joy to behold, particularly the uninhibited drumming of John Maher. This was also, bootlegs apart, the only chance to hear Howard Devoto front the band before he left to form Magazine. For more of the same, check out the Time's Up album, a classic bootleg of the group's early days which has seen official release.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:08 (thirteen years ago)
271. BUDGIE Never Turn Your Back On A Friend (953 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #38 for 1973 , #1181 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/457/MI0001457510.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
review[-] by Greg PratoOriginally released in 1973 on MCA, Budgie's third record, Never Turn Your Back on a Friend, was another slab of the band's signature plodding metal sound. Although they were never more than a cult band in the U.S., Budgie's popularity flourished in their native England, yet their influence was eventually felt by many notable American bands (Metallica, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, etc.). The mammoth riffs created by guitarist Tony Bourge are definitely on par with Black Sabbath riff master Tony Iommi, while vocalist/bassist Burke Shelley's voice is a cross between Robert Plant and early Geddy Lee. Drummers came and went (this would be original member Ray Phillips' last recording), but you'd never guess there would be a defection soon, judging from the tightness and interplay displayed on this album. One of their best-known tracks, "Breadfan" (later covered by Metallica), kicks off the album with rapid, almost speed metal, while the epic "Parents" closes the album sans the heavy metal thunder (the band chooses a more mid-paced and acoustic sound). The group also became notorious for coming up with profound (yet lighthearted) song titles, such as "In the Grip of a Tyrefitter's Hand" and "You're the Biggest Thing Since Powdered Milk." Recommended to anyone who finds solace in the metal forefathers (Sabbath, Zep, Hendrix, etc.).
Originally released in 1973 on MCA, Budgie's third record, Never Turn Your Back on a Friend, was another slab of the band's signature plodding metal sound. Although they were never more than a cult band in the U.S., Budgie's popularity flourished in their native England, yet their influence was eventually felt by many notable American bands (Metallica, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, etc.). The mammoth riffs created by guitarist Tony Bourge are definitely on par with Black Sabbath riff master Tony Iommi, while vocalist/bassist Burke Shelley's voice is a cross between Robert Plant and early Geddy Lee. Drummers came and went (this would be original member Ray Phillips' last recording), but you'd never guess there would be a defection soon, judging from the tightness and interplay displayed on this album. One of their best-known tracks, "Breadfan" (later covered by Metallica), kicks off the album with rapid, almost speed metal, while the epic "Parents" closes the album sans the heavy metal thunder (the band chooses a more mid-paced and acoustic sound). The group also became notorious for coming up with profound (yet lighthearted) song titles, such as "In the Grip of a Tyrefitter's Hand" and "You're the Biggest Thing Since Powdered Milk." Recommended to anyone who finds solace in the metal forefathers (Sabbath, Zep, Hendrix, etc.).
With the first quality mix of its career (scythe-like headphone-quality at that) with magical Yes-wondrous Roger Dean cover art, and yet another odd, ill-fitting collection of songs, Budgie has fully ensconced and isolated itself in teh land of the unexpected, cranky, eccentric artists locked in the house on the hill, nowhere near its audience, who remain linked only by psychic story threads. Further in, side two rolls on oblivious to reality with rocker "In The GRip OF A Tyrefitter's Hand," classic introspective and fey Shelley moment "Riding My Nightmare," and eleven minutes of "Parents." You figure it out, but the facts remain: there are no facts. 7/8 -- M. PopoffConsidered second-tier among metal architects Sabbath, Purple and Heep, Budgie were underrated then and now though they were later acknowledged as huge influences by the likes of Judas Priest, who toured with them heavily in the early days, Iron Maiden and Metallica. All of their first five albums are excellent and worth hearing. Burke Shelley’s Geddy Lee-like high pitched vocals and their quirky sense of humor perhaps kept them from bigger success. Their third album brought things together with sharp production, scintillating Roger Dean artwork, the supercharged opener “Breadfan” and epic workouts like “In the Grip of a Tyrefitter’s Hand” and “Parents.” -- Fastnbulbous
Considered second-tier among metal architects Sabbath, Purple and Heep, Budgie were underrated then and now though they were later acknowledged as huge influences by the likes of Judas Priest, who toured with them heavily in the early days, Iron Maiden and Metallica. All of their first five albums are excellent and worth hearing. Burke Shelley’s Geddy Lee-like high pitched vocals and their quirky sense of humor perhaps kept them from bigger success. Their third album brought things together with sharp production, scintillating Roger Dean artwork, the supercharged opener “Breadfan” and epic workouts like “In the Grip of a Tyrefitter’s Hand” and “Parents.” -- Fastnbulbous
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:15 (thirteen years ago)
Love that Saints album. Will be interested to see if Eternally Yours places - something tells me that it won't but I'd rate that right up there too, although it's a rather more polished and evolved beast.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:23 (thirteen years ago)
270. BOOTSY'S RUBBER BAND Ahh...The Name is Bootsy, Baby! (954 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #227 for 1977http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/103/MI0000103192.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7CIdo6KgE0OfbJbZOgN4qr
Although Bootsy's comic consciousness takes a certain toll in tightness and drive, this record does about ninety percent of what a good funk album does while offering priceless insight into obscene phone calls and canabis cunnilingus. Free your ass and your mind can come along for a giggle. B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Alex HendersonBootsy Collins' debut solo album, Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band, was an extremely tough act to follow, but thankfully, there are no signs of a sophomore slump (either creatively or commercially) on his second album, Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! Most P-funk addicts consider this 1977 LP essential listening, and it isn't hard to see why they feel that way. Everything on the album is excellent; that is true of up-tempo smokers like "The Pinocchio Theory" and the title song as well as slow, moody, eerie offerings such as "What's a Telephone Bill?" and "Munchies for Your Love." The lyrics are consistently humorous and clever, the grooves are consistently infectious. You can think of Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! as a meeting of the funk minds -- Collins produced this record with his mentor, George Clinton, who co-wrote all of the material. So Clinton has a lot of input and gives Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! the distinctive P-funk sound that Parliament/Funkadelic was known for. But at the same time, he encourages Collins' originality -- Bootsy's Rubber Band sounds like a Parliament/Funkadelic spin-off (which is exactly what it was), but not a Parliament/Funkadelic clone. Without question, Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! is essential listening for lovers of hard 1970s funk.
Bootsy Collins' debut solo album, Stretchin' Out in Bootsy's Rubber Band, was an extremely tough act to follow, but thankfully, there are no signs of a sophomore slump (either creatively or commercially) on his second album, Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! Most P-funk addicts consider this 1977 LP essential listening, and it isn't hard to see why they feel that way. Everything on the album is excellent; that is true of up-tempo smokers like "The Pinocchio Theory" and the title song as well as slow, moody, eerie offerings such as "What's a Telephone Bill?" and "Munchies for Your Love." The lyrics are consistently humorous and clever, the grooves are consistently infectious. You can think of Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! as a meeting of the funk minds -- Collins produced this record with his mentor, George Clinton, who co-wrote all of the material. So Clinton has a lot of input and gives Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! the distinctive P-funk sound that Parliament/Funkadelic was known for. But at the same time, he encourages Collins' originality -- Bootsy's Rubber Band sounds like a Parliament/Funkadelic spin-off (which is exactly what it was), but not a Parliament/Funkadelic clone. Without question, Ahh...The Name Is Bootsy, Baby! is essential listening for lovers of hard 1970s funk.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:27 (thirteen years ago)
It's odd that all these compilations that came out 30 years after the 70s are included, but no one nominated Buzzcocks' Singles Going Steady. That seems to be the default album that shows up in all the all-time lists (RYM: #87, RS: #358, Pitchfork: #16), and one of the few compilations along with Meaty Beaty Big And Bouncy that I feel count as a unique album release given how many singles they contain that weren't available elsewhere at the time.
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:30 (thirteen years ago)
it's true, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who has that but has never bothered with the albums.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:37 (thirteen years ago)
the difference is those comps are supposed to be previously unissued not greatest hits
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:38 (thirteen years ago)
269. BLUES CREATION Demon & Eleven Children (955 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #167 for 1971 , #4747 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/017/MI0003017282.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1Ny1uH7uTigYFttYGoCbZ0
Oh my evilness!!!!,that's what i call an awesome album!!.sounds like been recorded last year!!!.first of all: i'm from Argentina ,so i apologize by my poor english!!!.The second: i'm a really mushroomhead so i left my brain in some box of rain so long time ago!!!!.by the way: what the fuck these japanese doomhead eat?.i can't describe this album but i can say to you that you gotta entrance in the realm of heavy-psycho retro doom rock!!.if you think that you've heard all the doom rock stuff!!!,i say shut up and say BLUES CREATION!!!!!.from "ATOMIC BOMBS AWAY" to "DEMON & ELEVEN CHILDREN" through "SORROW","JUST WAS BORN";"BRANE BASTER" AND "SOONER OR LATER" you'll find the most terrific ethereal jap-rock madness in it!!. ok,dig it!!!!.thanxs to these japanese rock soldiers!!!!,the doom rock world recognize yer fantastic work and gonna get the same ebony skies that you people runs once!!!!. -- basstripper, Head Heritage
sounds like been recorded last year!!!.
first of all: i'm from Argentina ,so i apologize by my poor english!!!.The second: i'm a really mushroomhead so i left my brain in some box of rain so long time ago!!!!.by the way: what the fuck these japanese doomhead eat?.i can't describe this album but i can say to you that you gotta entrance in the realm of heavy-psycho retro doom rock!!.if you think that you've heard all the doom rock stuff!!!,i say shut up and say BLUES CREATION!!!!!.from "ATOMIC BOMBS AWAY" to "DEMON & ELEVEN CHILDREN" through "SORROW","JUST WAS BORN";"BRANE BASTER" AND "SOONER OR LATER" you'll find the most terrific ethereal jap-rock madness in it!!. ok,dig it!!!!.
thanxs to these japanese rock soldiers!!!!,the doom rock world recognize yer fantastic work and gonna get the same ebony skies that you people runs once!!!!. -- basstripper, Head Heritage
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaBlues Creation MKII (essentially founding guitarist Kazuo Takeda and three fresh-faced handpicked cohorts) made their recorded debut via 1971's enigmatically named Demon & Eleven Children, which was released in 1971 amidst an onslaught of then unsuccessful but now legendary albums documenting Japan's eccentric music scene of the period. Yet, ironically, Blues Creation's very competence at replicating the Brit blues boom's proto-metal aftermath wound up rendering this, the group's signature effort, both less exotic than, say, the Flower Travellin' Band's Satori, and certainly less radical than Speed, Glue & Shinki's garage-raw classic Eve -- to cite but two of that generation's most notorious sonic landmarks. In every other respect, though, Demon & Eleven Children is a formidable document of its ilk by any measure -- Japanese or global -- as it harnessed Takeda's previous international experience and recent Black Sabbath fascination into a monumentally wasted musical death-in. There, among the album's awesomely grinding, groaning dinosaur stomps one finds the acid-trip apocalypse of "Atomic Bombs Away," the incendiary full-band catharsis of "Just I Was Born," and the endless sequence of Godzilla-esque power chords and elephantine feedback of the epic title track. However, nestled among these, there is also the relative variety provided by token blues-rocker "Mississippi Mountain Blues" (clearly inspired by Flower Travellin' Band's own "Louisiana Blues," released the previous year), the extended jazz and blues improvisations of the mostly mellower "Sorrow" (something of a bridge between Sabbath and Budgie!), and the lysergic dreamscape of "One Summer Day." Still, there's no doubt that Blues Creation's existence and appeal relied almost entirely on Takeda, who further flexes his muscles (or fingers, as it were) across the energetic "Sooner or Later" and his personal showcase "Brane Baster," overall coming off like a more technically gifted Tony Iommi (even though he admittedly copped many of the man's riffs and licks). In short, it's safe to assume that only geographical isolation stopped Demon & Eleven Children from turning Blues Creation into a major concern overseas on par with, if not Zeppelin, Purple, or Sabbath, then possibly Leaf Hound, Buffalo, or Cactus.
Blues Creation MKII (essentially founding guitarist Kazuo Takeda and three fresh-faced handpicked cohorts) made their recorded debut via 1971's enigmatically named Demon & Eleven Children, which was released in 1971 amidst an onslaught of then unsuccessful but now legendary albums documenting Japan's eccentric music scene of the period. Yet, ironically, Blues Creation's very competence at replicating the Brit blues boom's proto-metal aftermath wound up rendering this, the group's signature effort, both less exotic than, say, the Flower Travellin' Band's Satori, and certainly less radical than Speed, Glue & Shinki's garage-raw classic Eve -- to cite but two of that generation's most notorious sonic landmarks. In every other respect, though, Demon & Eleven Children is a formidable document of its ilk by any measure -- Japanese or global -- as it harnessed Takeda's previous international experience and recent Black Sabbath fascination into a monumentally wasted musical death-in. There, among the album's awesomely grinding, groaning dinosaur stomps one finds the acid-trip apocalypse of "Atomic Bombs Away," the incendiary full-band catharsis of "Just I Was Born," and the endless sequence of Godzilla-esque power chords and elephantine feedback of the epic title track. However, nestled among these, there is also the relative variety provided by token blues-rocker "Mississippi Mountain Blues" (clearly inspired by Flower Travellin' Band's own "Louisiana Blues," released the previous year), the extended jazz and blues improvisations of the mostly mellower "Sorrow" (something of a bridge between Sabbath and Budgie!), and the lysergic dreamscape of "One Summer Day." Still, there's no doubt that Blues Creation's existence and appeal relied almost entirely on Takeda, who further flexes his muscles (or fingers, as it were) across the energetic "Sooner or Later" and his personal showcase "Brane Baster," overall coming off like a more technically gifted Tony Iommi (even though he admittedly copped many of the man's riffs and licks). In short, it's safe to assume that only geographical isolation stopped Demon & Eleven Children from turning Blues Creation into a major concern overseas on par with, if not Zeppelin, Purple, or Sabbath, then possibly Leaf Hound, Buffalo, or Cactus.
BEST COVER
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:40 (thirteen years ago)
268. PINK FLOYD Animals (960 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #2 for 1977 , #38 overall | Acclaimed: #1466http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/237/MI0003237396.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
This has its share of obvious moments. But I can only assume that those who accuse this band of repetitious cynicism are stuck in such a cynical rut themselves that a piece of well-constructed political program music--how did we used to say it?--puts them uptight. Lyrical, ugly, and rousing, all in the right places. B+ -- R. ChristgauFor Pink Floyd, space has always been the ultimate escape. It still is, but now definitions have shifted. The romance of outer space has been replaced by the horror of spacing out.This shift has been coming for a while. There was Dark Side of the Moon and "Brain Damage," Wish You Were Here and the story of founding member Syd Barrett, the "Crazy Diamond." And now there's Animals, a visit to a cacophonous farm where what you have to watch for is pigs on the wing. Animals is a song suite that deals with subjects like loneliness, death and lies. "Have a good drown," they shout dolefully as you drop into the pit that is this album: "Have a good drown as you go down all alone/Dragged down by the stone...stone...stone...stone...stone..." Thanks, pals, I'll try.It's no use. Like all Floyd records, this one aborbs like a sponge, but you can still hear the gooey screams of listeners who put up a fight. What's the problem? For starters, the sax that warmedDark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here has been replaced by a succession of David Gilmour guitar solos -- thin, brittle and a sorry substitute indeed. The singing is more wooden than ever. The sound is more complex, but it lacks real depth; there's nothing to match the incredible intro to Dark Side of the Moon, for example, with its hypnotic chorus of cash registers recalling the mechanical doom that was Fritz Lang's vision in Metropolis. Somehow you get the impression that this band is being metamorphosed into a noodle factory.Maybe that shouldn't be surprising. Floyd was never really welcomed into the Sixties avant-garde: space rock was a little too close to science fiction for that. But the extraordinary success of Dark Side of the Moon (released nearly four years ago, it's still on the charts) culminated almost a decade of ever-expanding cult appeal and gave the band an audience that must have seemed as boundless as space itself. The temptation to follow through with prefab notions of what that audience would like -- warmed over, spaced out heavy-metal, in this case -- was apparently too strong to resist.Even worse, however, is the bleak defeatism that's set in. In 1968 Floyd was chanting lines like: "Why can't we reach the sun?/ Why can't we throw the years away?" This kind of stuff may seem silly, but at least it wasn't self-pitying. The 1977 Floyd has turned bitter and morose. They complain about the duplicity of human behavior (and then title their songs after animals -- get it?). They sound like they've just discovered this -- their message has become pointless and tedious.Floyd has always been best at communicating the cramped psychology that comes from living in a place like England, where the 20th century has been visibly superimposed on the others that preceded it. The tension that powers their music is not simply fright at man's helplessness before technology; it's the conflict between the modern and the ancient, between technology and tradition. Space is Floyd's way of resolving the conflict.Of course, space doesn't offer any kind of real escape; Pink Floyd knows that. But spacing out is supposed to. (Spacing out has always been the idea behind space rock anyway.) Animals is Floyd's attempt to deal with the realization that spacing out isn't the answer either. There's no exit; you get high, you come down again. That's what Pink Floyd has done, with a thud. -- Frank Rose, RS
For Pink Floyd, space has always been the ultimate escape. It still is, but now definitions have shifted. The romance of outer space has been replaced by the horror of spacing out.
This shift has been coming for a while. There was Dark Side of the Moon and "Brain Damage," Wish You Were Here and the story of founding member Syd Barrett, the "Crazy Diamond." And now there's Animals, a visit to a cacophonous farm where what you have to watch for is pigs on the wing. Animals is a song suite that deals with subjects like loneliness, death and lies. "Have a good drown," they shout dolefully as you drop into the pit that is this album: "Have a good drown as you go down all alone/Dragged down by the stone...stone...stone...stone...stone..." Thanks, pals, I'll try.
It's no use. Like all Floyd records, this one aborbs like a sponge, but you can still hear the gooey screams of listeners who put up a fight. What's the problem? For starters, the sax that warmedDark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here has been replaced by a succession of David Gilmour guitar solos -- thin, brittle and a sorry substitute indeed. The singing is more wooden than ever. The sound is more complex, but it lacks real depth; there's nothing to match the incredible intro to Dark Side of the Moon, for example, with its hypnotic chorus of cash registers recalling the mechanical doom that was Fritz Lang's vision in Metropolis. Somehow you get the impression that this band is being metamorphosed into a noodle factory.
Maybe that shouldn't be surprising. Floyd was never really welcomed into the Sixties avant-garde: space rock was a little too close to science fiction for that. But the extraordinary success of Dark Side of the Moon (released nearly four years ago, it's still on the charts) culminated almost a decade of ever-expanding cult appeal and gave the band an audience that must have seemed as boundless as space itself. The temptation to follow through with prefab notions of what that audience would like -- warmed over, spaced out heavy-metal, in this case -- was apparently too strong to resist.
Even worse, however, is the bleak defeatism that's set in. In 1968 Floyd was chanting lines like: "Why can't we reach the sun?/ Why can't we throw the years away?" This kind of stuff may seem silly, but at least it wasn't self-pitying. The 1977 Floyd has turned bitter and morose. They complain about the duplicity of human behavior (and then title their songs after animals -- get it?). They sound like they've just discovered this -- their message has become pointless and tedious.
Floyd has always been best at communicating the cramped psychology that comes from living in a place like England, where the 20th century has been visibly superimposed on the others that preceded it. The tension that powers their music is not simply fright at man's helplessness before technology; it's the conflict between the modern and the ancient, between technology and tradition. Space is Floyd's way of resolving the conflict.
Of course, space doesn't offer any kind of real escape; Pink Floyd knows that. But spacing out is supposed to. (Spacing out has always been the idea behind space rock anyway.) Animals is Floyd's attempt to deal with the realization that spacing out isn't the answer either. There's no exit; you get high, you come down again. That's what Pink Floyd has done, with a thud. -- Frank Rose, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineOf all of the classic-era Pink Floyd albums, Animals is the strangest and darkest, a record that's hard to initially embrace yet winds up yielding as many rewards as its equally nihilistic successor, The Wall. It isn't that Roger Waters dismisses the human race as either pigs, dogs, or sheep, it's that he's constructed an album whose music is as bleak and bitter as that world view. Arriving after the warm-spirited (albeit melancholy) Wish You Were Here, the shift in tone comes as a bit of a surprise, and there are even less proper songs here than on either Wish or Dark Side. Animals is all extended pieces, yet it never drifts -- it slowly, ominously works its way toward its destination. For an album that so clearly is Waters', David Gilmour's guitar dominates thoroughly, with Richard Wright's keyboards rarely rising above a mood-setting background (such as on the intro to "Sheep"). This gives the music, on occasion, immediacy and actually heightens the dark mood by giving it muscle. It also makes Animals as accessible as it possibly could be, since it surges with bold blues-rock guitar lines and hypnotic space rock textures. Through it all, though, the utter blackness of Waters' spirit holds true, and since there are no vocal hooks or melodies, everything rests on the mood, the near-nihilistic lyrics, and Gilmour's guitar. These are the kinds of things that satisfy cultists, and it will reward their attention -- there's just no way in for casual listeners.
Of all of the classic-era Pink Floyd albums, Animals is the strangest and darkest, a record that's hard to initially embrace yet winds up yielding as many rewards as its equally nihilistic successor, The Wall. It isn't that Roger Waters dismisses the human race as either pigs, dogs, or sheep, it's that he's constructed an album whose music is as bleak and bitter as that world view. Arriving after the warm-spirited (albeit melancholy) Wish You Were Here, the shift in tone comes as a bit of a surprise, and there are even less proper songs here than on either Wish or Dark Side. Animals is all extended pieces, yet it never drifts -- it slowly, ominously works its way toward its destination. For an album that so clearly is Waters', David Gilmour's guitar dominates thoroughly, with Richard Wright's keyboards rarely rising above a mood-setting background (such as on the intro to "Sheep"). This gives the music, on occasion, immediacy and actually heightens the dark mood by giving it muscle. It also makes Animals as accessible as it possibly could be, since it surges with bold blues-rock guitar lines and hypnotic space rock textures. Through it all, though, the utter blackness of Waters' spirit holds true, and since there are no vocal hooks or melodies, everything rests on the mood, the near-nihilistic lyrics, and Gilmour's guitar. These are the kinds of things that satisfy cultists, and it will reward their attention -- there's just no way in for casual listeners.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:49 (thirteen years ago)
pink floyd is worse than creed
― Mordy, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:50 (thirteen years ago)
but pink floyd are every stoners fave band since the 70s
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:52 (thirteen years ago)
The non-mainstream stoner however was into...
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 19:59 (thirteen years ago)
PINK FLOYD RULES ANIMALS IS GREAT
MORDY is a JERK
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:01 (thirteen years ago)
267. HAWKWIND Hall of the Mountain Grill (965 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #74 for 1974 , #2857 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/783/MI0001783691.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0CIh8QCK9o0mKyzzNWzjUZ
Hall of the Mountain Grill's highlights include the rampaging "Psychedelic Warlords (Disappear in Smoke)" and Lemmy's bleak "Lost Johnny" (co-written by Mick Farren).Warrior on the Edge of Time has four tracks co-written by Moorcock, who makes a murky, overly echoed thespian debut on two of them. It also sports Brock's own rocking pseudo-mythology ("Magnu") and a quiet, thoughtful tune ("The Demented Man"), as well as "Kings of Speed," released as a single. The latter's B-side was "Motorhead"; Lemmy took that name for the band he formed after being sacked from Hawkwind following a 1974 on-tour Canadian drug bust. (Although it ceased to exist in reality, the Lemmy lineup resurfaced in fiction as the protagonists — dubbed the Hawklords, led by "Baron Brock" — in a trilogy of books by Moorcock and Michael Butterworth.) -- Trouser PressHall of the Mountain Grill is Hawkwind starting the long descent back to earth. After the somewhat numbing and totally inaccessible droning of Space Ritual, it's good to see the band incorporating such human traits as vocals, real English-language lyrics (however nonsensical), melodies and even an occasional synthesizer whooshes and metronome drumming still turn up, Mountain Grill occasionally sounds more like Pink Floyd than the Hawkwind we used to know. In fact, "Web Weaver" displays the kind of sobriety never heard from them before, and on the title cut they use a classically influenced piano riff as an introduction to the rest of their weird noise song. Hall of the Mountain Grill comes as close to being genuinely listenable as anything done by this band yet, and if they keep this trend going they may even start to sell some albums in this country -- Alan Neister, RSThe double live album Space Ritual (1973) is certainly a great recap of Hawkwind’s best up to that point. But it would be a huge mistake to ignore their next album, Hall Of The Mountain Grill, which finds them at their peak, balancing their guitar heavy space rock sound with futurist electronic keyboards and mellotrons. Their classic “Psychedelic Warlords (Disappear In Smoke)” and “D-Rider” sandwich “Wind Of Change,” a moody electronic piece augmented by strings. Side two the highlights “You’d Better Believe It” and Lemmy’s biker anthem “Lost Johnny,” and closes with the dizzying psych freakout “Paradox.” Warrior On The Edge Of Time (1975) also has highlights in “Assault & Battery,” “The Golden Void” and “Magnu,” and is Lemmy’s last album with the band. But to me Mountain Grill, complete with sleeve art of the crushed hull of a spaceship crashed onto an alien planet shrouded in poison gasses, is Hawkwind’s iconic peak. -- Fastnbulbous
Hall of the Mountain Grill is Hawkwind starting the long descent back to earth. After the somewhat numbing and totally inaccessible droning of Space Ritual, it's good to see the band incorporating such human traits as vocals, real English-language lyrics (however nonsensical), melodies and even an occasional synthesizer whooshes and metronome drumming still turn up, Mountain Grill occasionally sounds more like Pink Floyd than the Hawkwind we used to know. In fact, "Web Weaver" displays the kind of sobriety never heard from them before, and on the title cut they use a classically influenced piano riff as an introduction to the rest of their weird noise song. Hall of the Mountain Grill comes as close to being genuinely listenable as anything done by this band yet, and if they keep this trend going they may even start to sell some albums in this country -- Alan Neister, RS
The double live album Space Ritual (1973) is certainly a great recap of Hawkwind’s best up to that point. But it would be a huge mistake to ignore their next album, Hall Of The Mountain Grill, which finds them at their peak, balancing their guitar heavy space rock sound with futurist electronic keyboards and mellotrons. Their classic “Psychedelic Warlords (Disappear In Smoke)” and “D-Rider” sandwich “Wind Of Change,” a moody electronic piece augmented by strings. Side two the highlights “You’d Better Believe It” and Lemmy’s biker anthem “Lost Johnny,” and closes with the dizzying psych freakout “Paradox.” Warrior On The Edge Of Time (1975) also has highlights in “Assault & Battery,” “The Golden Void” and “Magnu,” and is Lemmy’s last album with the band. But to me Mountain Grill, complete with sleeve art of the crushed hull of a spaceship crashed onto an alien planet shrouded in poison gasses, is Hawkwind’s iconic peak. -- Fastnbulbous
reviewby Bruce EderThe band's best studio album, coming off of the success of Space Ritual. The group's rock roots are juxtaposed effectively with the swelling synthesizer flourishes and pretentious song ideas, creating the quintessential guitar-oriented space rock record. The highlight was the live recording of "You'd Better Believe It," with its crunchy guitars, but nobody minded keyboardman Simon House's languid synthesizer-laden "Hall of the Mountain Grill" (especially as it was followed by the Lemmy-sung "Lost Johnny," a great all-out rocker). The sound, especially the mix of ballsy high-volume guitar playing and soaring electronic keyboards ("The Psychedelic Warlords," "D-Rider"), would later get co-opted by outfits such as Blue Öyster Cult ("(Don't Fear) The Reaper") and Kansas. Overall, this is the sound and imagery that the punkier kids and druggies who went to shows like Laserium were looking for, and if the producers of Laserium had devised something hooked around this record, it could have run 20 years or better.
The band's best studio album, coming off of the success of Space Ritual. The group's rock roots are juxtaposed effectively with the swelling synthesizer flourishes and pretentious song ideas, creating the quintessential guitar-oriented space rock record. The highlight was the live recording of "You'd Better Believe It," with its crunchy guitars, but nobody minded keyboardman Simon House's languid synthesizer-laden "Hall of the Mountain Grill" (especially as it was followed by the Lemmy-sung "Lost Johnny," a great all-out rocker). The sound, especially the mix of ballsy high-volume guitar playing and soaring electronic keyboards ("The Psychedelic Warlords," "D-Rider"), would later get co-opted by outfits such as Blue Öyster Cult ("(Don't Fear) The Reaper") and Kansas. Overall, this is the sound and imagery that the punkier kids and druggies who went to shows like Laserium were looking for, and if the producers of Laserium had devised something hooked around this record, it could have run 20 years or better.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:01 (thirteen years ago)
266. THE DAMNED Machine Gun Etiquette (973 Points, 6 Votes)RYM: #18 for 1979 , #917 overall | Acclaimed: #2919http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/831/MI0001831342.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2wCCXYJUgeiRqyIr3ujbMF
The Damned broke up and reformed several times before cutting Machine Gun Etiquette with a new lineup. Sensible had traded bass for guitar, Lu had departed (to join a number of bands, including Public Image) and ex-Saints bassist Algy Ward had joined. (Ward left after the one album, going on to form a grebo metal band, Tank, which released at least five LPs.) Despite the tumult, the band is totally revitalized and on top of things — more mature, but no less crazy — tearing through enduring greats as "Love Song," "I Just Can't Be Happy Today" (both UK hits), "Smash It Up" and the anthemic "Noise Noise Noise." A great record by a band many had already counted out. The 1991 CD/cassette reissue has a new cover, cool liner notes by Jack Rabid and bonus tracks: a six-minute edit of 1983's "White Rabbit" plus three erstwhile B-sides: "Ballroom Blitz," "Suicide" and "Rabid (Over You)." -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Ned RaggettRejoining forces without Brian James, who pursued his own interests from then on (only hooking up with the band again for a late-'80s "farewell" show), the remaining three brought in young Saints veteran Ward on bass, recorded an album, and hoped for the best. That best proved much better than expected; while singles ended up on the charts, Machine Gun Etiquette itself was deservedly hailed as another classic from the band. Over time, its reputation has grown to equal the original Damned Damned Damned; while no less strong than that record, the Damned here bring in a wide variety of touches and influences to create a record that most of their contemporaries could never have approached. The group's wicked way around witty punk hadn't ebbed a bit; the opening cut, "Love Song," is a hilarious trashing of romantic clichés (sample lyric: "I'll be the rubbish, you'll be the bin!") that barely lasts two minutes, while "Noise, Noise, Noise" and "Liar" work in the same general vein. These, however, only scratch the surface. "Melody Lee," written by the Captain for a favorite comic character, starts with a lovely piano intro, whereas the celebratory angst of "I Just Can't Be Happy Today" chugs along with garagey élan and keyboards á la the Electric Prunes. Other prime standouts include "Plan 9 Channel 7," a Grand Guignol of an epic about James Dean and Vampira with a fantastic Vanian vocal; the merry mayhem of "These Hands" (belonging to a killer circus clown, with appropriate carnival music, of course); and a great rip through the MC5's "Looking at You." The best moment was saved for last, though: "Smash It Up," a two-part number divided between an affecting instrumental tribute to longtime supporter and Captain hero Marc Bolan, and a perfect trash-the-rules-and-party pop/punk/R&B scorcher.
Rejoining forces without Brian James, who pursued his own interests from then on (only hooking up with the band again for a late-'80s "farewell" show), the remaining three brought in young Saints veteran Ward on bass, recorded an album, and hoped for the best. That best proved much better than expected; while singles ended up on the charts, Machine Gun Etiquette itself was deservedly hailed as another classic from the band. Over time, its reputation has grown to equal the original Damned Damned Damned; while no less strong than that record, the Damned here bring in a wide variety of touches and influences to create a record that most of their contemporaries could never have approached. The group's wicked way around witty punk hadn't ebbed a bit; the opening cut, "Love Song," is a hilarious trashing of romantic clichés (sample lyric: "I'll be the rubbish, you'll be the bin!") that barely lasts two minutes, while "Noise, Noise, Noise" and "Liar" work in the same general vein. These, however, only scratch the surface. "Melody Lee," written by the Captain for a favorite comic character, starts with a lovely piano intro, whereas the celebratory angst of "I Just Can't Be Happy Today" chugs along with garagey élan and keyboards á la the Electric Prunes. Other prime standouts include "Plan 9 Channel 7," a Grand Guignol of an epic about James Dean and Vampira with a fantastic Vanian vocal; the merry mayhem of "These Hands" (belonging to a killer circus clown, with appropriate carnival music, of course); and a great rip through the MC5's "Looking at You." The best moment was saved for last, though: "Smash It Up," a two-part number divided between an affecting instrumental tribute to longtime supporter and Captain hero Marc Bolan, and a perfect trash-the-rules-and-party pop/punk/R&B scorcher.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:10 (thirteen years ago)
Spiral Scratch still one of the best blasts of boot-up-the-arse energy ever. Listening to it is like drinking about five coffees.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:19 (thirteen years ago)
265. FAMILY A Song For Me (974 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #245 for 1970http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/724/MI0001724175.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0noyv1PwF9cFBQLI09pzEh
During the fertile period of 1968-1970 in the UK, a number of bands navigated the transition from psychedelic rock to prog. Many kept their fingers in a number of other genres, and while the likes of Traffic, Procol Harum, Spooky Tooth, Family, new favorites Stray and even Yes were pretty well known, they don’t necessarily get enough credit for making groundbreaking albums during that three year span. Apart from the astounding Stray debut, the heaviest and most experimental of the bunch is Family’s A Song For Me. Lead by vocalist Roger Chapman, who boasted a unique, scratchy vibrato, but could also wail as well as Steve Marriott, Family released very strong albums with Music In A Doll’s House (1968) and Family Entertainment (1969). In the face of adversity (failed U.S. tour, losing two members and a manager), their third was their best yet. Psychedelic rock, folk, jazz, blues and boogie are all explored, but the most exciting bits of this diverse set are the unusual arrangements in heavy progressive rockers “Drowned In Wine,” “Love Is A Sleeper” and especially the 9:20 long title track, a real monster that competes with Stray’s “All In Your Mind” and “Suicide” for extended length rockers that keep you enraptured every second. The band continued to evolve on the less consistent Anyway… (1970), Fearless (1971) and another fan favorite, Bandstand (1972). But A Song For Me captures them at their edgy peak. -- Fastnbulbous
Twenty seven years after the fact, this might well be the best of the early Family recordings. A combination of hard rock (bordering on metal) and wistful folk-rock (it sounds as if Chapman and Whitney were listening to a lot of Incredible String Band), A Song for Me veers toward early progressive rock, but isn't as nakedly indulgent as some early prog-rock recordings (e.g., they didn't try to sound like a jazz band, they wanted to sound like a rock band screwing around with jazz). Perhaps their most experimental record, it seems as though the credo in making this disc was that anything went. And on tracks like "Drowned in Wine," it works quite well. Again, Chapman offers more proof of his vocal greatness, and again the record sells large quantities in England and nearly nothing in America.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:21 (thirteen years ago)
lol wut?!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:30 (thirteen years ago)
Can't think of a first wave brit punk album I love more than Machnie Gun Etiquette. SO GOOD.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:32 (thirteen years ago)
264. CRASS Stations Of The Crass (975 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #131 for 1979http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/403/MI0002403827.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Stations of the Crass is even harder going — three studio sides and a live side containing a full seventeen numbers. Almost in spite of the oppressive, relentless punk bluster, Crass often wrote anthemic songs (like the ironic "Banned from the Roxy" and "Do They Owe Us a Living?" from Five Thousand), but over the course of this album (all of the studio material was cut in one day!), they blur into white noise. "White Punks on Hope" forcefully summarizes their scorn of punk as fashion; the Sham 69 parody, "Hurry Up Garry," is a wicked snipe at the music press. -- Trouser PressCrass weren't Socialists either, they were anarcho-pacifists: "Left wing, Right wing, you stuff the fucking lot." Stations of the Crass is an ugly, depressing, un-musical dirge. It's what Punk's ideology actually sounds like without the juicy rock 'n' roll influence, and interesting for this and Gee Vaucher's iconoclastic artwork alone. This is a "lost" album certainly, but perhaps justifiably so. -- Woebot
Crass weren't Socialists either, they were anarcho-pacifists: "Left wing, Right wing, you stuff the fucking lot." Stations of the Crass is an ugly, depressing, un-musical dirge. It's what Punk's ideology actually sounds like without the juicy rock 'n' roll influence, and interesting for this and Gee Vaucher's iconoclastic artwork alone. This is a "lost" album certainly, but perhaps justifiably so. -- Woebot
review[-] by Ned Raggett"They said that we were trash/Well the name is Crass, not Clash." So goes the opening of the coruscating "White Punks on Hope," and with Stations Crass takes things to an even more vicious level than on Feeding. The opening yelps and screams from Ignorant on "Mother Earth" over a slow-building burn show that there was already much more to Crass than simple crash and bash punk, and with the rest of the album the collective moves between full-on assault and an ever increasing agit-snarl experimentation. Originally released as two vinyl discs, the conclusion of the second consists of a live show in Islington the summer of 1979, with the band tearing through new and old cuts with passion, including such fierce anthems as "Do They Owe Us a Living?" and "Shaved Women." The studio tracks, including versions of some cuts from the live show, all come from a one-day session four days after the concert, and while some tracks are almost fragments, surprisingly things aren't as constantly monochrome or as rushed as one might think. Whether stripping things down to dub-tinged bass, drums, and repetitive guitar snarls or blends of staccato rhythms and found-sound noise (or even, on "Walls," trying a bit of disco), Crass creates a unique brand of fierce, inspirational music. Libertine and De Vivre make impressive cameos alongside Ignorant's lead vocals, making the perfect argument through performance that passion trumps technical skill when the chips are down. The sheer amount of issue tackling and blunt speaking throughout ranges from political statements of purpose over every aspect of the status quo to relentless self-examination. One running attack against the band was always that their words were better read than listened to, but hearing the seething hatred projected by Ignorant on "Big Man, Big M.A.N." is enough to convince one otherwise. One of the funniest tracks is the vivisection of music press figure Garry Bushell, "Hurry Up Garry," which uncannily predicts his eventual descent into right-wing tabloid idiocy.
"They said that we were trash/Well the name is Crass, not Clash." So goes the opening of the coruscating "White Punks on Hope," and with Stations Crass takes things to an even more vicious level than on Feeding. The opening yelps and screams from Ignorant on "Mother Earth" over a slow-building burn show that there was already much more to Crass than simple crash and bash punk, and with the rest of the album the collective moves between full-on assault and an ever increasing agit-snarl experimentation. Originally released as two vinyl discs, the conclusion of the second consists of a live show in Islington the summer of 1979, with the band tearing through new and old cuts with passion, including such fierce anthems as "Do They Owe Us a Living?" and "Shaved Women." The studio tracks, including versions of some cuts from the live show, all come from a one-day session four days after the concert, and while some tracks are almost fragments, surprisingly things aren't as constantly monochrome or as rushed as one might think. Whether stripping things down to dub-tinged bass, drums, and repetitive guitar snarls or blends of staccato rhythms and found-sound noise (or even, on "Walls," trying a bit of disco), Crass creates a unique brand of fierce, inspirational music. Libertine and De Vivre make impressive cameos alongside Ignorant's lead vocals, making the perfect argument through performance that passion trumps technical skill when the chips are down. The sheer amount of issue tackling and blunt speaking throughout ranges from political statements of purpose over every aspect of the status quo to relentless self-examination. One running attack against the band was always that their words were better read than listened to, but hearing the seething hatred projected by Ignorant on "Big Man, Big M.A.N." is enough to convince one otherwise. One of the funniest tracks is the vivisection of music press figure Garry Bushell, "Hurry Up Garry," which uncannily predicts his eventual descent into right-wing tabloid idiocy.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:34 (thirteen years ago)
263. LOS DUG DUG'S Dug Dug's (979 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #402 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/149/MI0003149553.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/51iJOwfdpkj8t6Yqi0ZiWyhttp://lightintheattic.net/releases/567-dug-dug-s-aka-lost-in-my-world
Here it is – Los Dug Dug’s self titled debut (also known as “Lost in My World”): the “must have” first album (1971) from psychedelic guru Armando Nava and his band, recorded after their failed trip to NYC did not produce the stardom they had been promised—pain and disappointment sparking great song-writing on this, the first Mexican psych album in English.After an extended stint as the house band at Tijuana strip joint Fantasitas, Los Dug Dug’s relocated to Mexico City in 1966. They quickly garnered a rabid fan following there, which resulted in the Dug Dug’s signing to RCA Records and cutting a series of singles (the band also headlined a pair of 1967 films, El Mundo Loco de los Jovenes and Cinco de Chocolate y Una de Fresa). Upon returning to Tijuana in 1968, Los Dug Dug’s took up residence at the popular Sans Sous Ci club. An American tourist was so impressed that he offered to bankroll a trip for the band to New York City. The group played a handful of live dates and recorded a few demos, but having no money to pay the union fees necessary to earn them the opportunity to play NYC’s larger venues left them with little choice but to return to Mexico.Los Dug Dug’s immediately began work on their first LP for RCA Mexico, little knowing at the time that it would become a classic of psychedelia. Long-simmering creative differences between band leaders Nava and Jorge de la Torre forced the latter’s resignation after the album was completed; by the time the resulting psychedelic opus appeared in 1971, the first incarnation of Los Dug Dug’s was essentially no more. All that remained was this heavy, explosive album, a record which captures the fever/dream humidity of flower children running amok on a July afternoon. Essential.
After an extended stint as the house band at Tijuana strip joint Fantasitas, Los Dug Dug’s relocated to Mexico City in 1966. They quickly garnered a rabid fan following there, which resulted in the Dug Dug’s signing to RCA Records and cutting a series of singles (the band also headlined a pair of 1967 films, El Mundo Loco de los Jovenes and Cinco de Chocolate y Una de Fresa). Upon returning to Tijuana in 1968, Los Dug Dug’s took up residence at the popular Sans Sous Ci club. An American tourist was so impressed that he offered to bankroll a trip for the band to New York City. The group played a handful of live dates and recorded a few demos, but having no money to pay the union fees necessary to earn them the opportunity to play NYC’s larger venues left them with little choice but to return to Mexico.
Los Dug Dug’s immediately began work on their first LP for RCA Mexico, little knowing at the time that it would become a classic of psychedelia. Long-simmering creative differences between band leaders Nava and Jorge de la Torre forced the latter’s resignation after the album was completed; by the time the resulting psychedelic opus appeared in 1971, the first incarnation of Los Dug Dug’s was essentially no more. All that remained was this heavy, explosive album, a record which captures the fever/dream humidity of flower children running amok on a July afternoon. Essential.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:52 (thirteen years ago)
Live it up is my favourite Isley Brothers album, the run they did from Brother Brother Brother to Go For Your Guns was pretty amazing. I'm sure 3 + 3 will be the highest of their albums.
― Kitchen Person, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 20:57 (thirteen years ago)
262. AU PAIRS Equal But Different - BBC Sessions 79-81 (980 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #103 for 1994 , #3278 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/085/MI0002085864.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
reviewby Richie UnterbergerTwenty tracks recorded for the BBC between 1979-1981, representing most of what the group performed on British radio. (Four other tracks from a 1983 session appear as bonus cuts on RPM's CD reissue of the Sense & Sensuality album.) It leans most heavily on the first LP and singles (in fact, versions of every single one of the debut album's tracks are here), though there are also a half-dozen songs from Sense & Sensuality. No big surprises, with the exception of a couple of otherwise unavailable items, "Ideal Woman" and "Monogamy." The latter tune is the set's clear highlight, as it represents the band's only foray (and quite a good one) into all-out, straightforward, guitar-heavy punk rock. Much of the rest is too monochromatic for the unconverted, but fans should like this. It's a better representation of their live prime than the Live in Berlin album, and with 79 minutes running time and meticulous liner notes, it offers terrific value.
Twenty tracks recorded for the BBC between 1979-1981, representing most of what the group performed on British radio. (Four other tracks from a 1983 session appear as bonus cuts on RPM's CD reissue of the Sense & Sensuality album.) It leans most heavily on the first LP and singles (in fact, versions of every single one of the debut album's tracks are here), though there are also a half-dozen songs from Sense & Sensuality. No big surprises, with the exception of a couple of otherwise unavailable items, "Ideal Woman" and "Monogamy." The latter tune is the set's clear highlight, as it represents the band's only foray (and quite a good one) into all-out, straightforward, guitar-heavy punk rock. Much of the rest is too monochromatic for the unconverted, but fans should like this. It's a better representation of their live prime than the Live in Berlin album, and with 79 minutes running time and meticulous liner notes, it offers terrific value.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:00 (thirteen years ago)
261. THEORETICAL GIRLS Theoretical Record (983 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #234 for 2002http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/370/MI0000370859.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
review[-] by Uncle Dave LewisSome may believe, if they are aware of the late-'70s New York no wave scene at all, that the genre begins and ends with the Brian Eno-produced compilation No New York. But only four bands are found on that album, and in truth there were dozens of New York-based groups that fell into the no wave category represented only by a single or two, a ROIR cassette, or nothing. Theoretical Girls were a major group in New York no wave, but their reputation mainly rests on one small-run 45 containing two songs that was issued on their own Theoretical Records imprint in 1978. The 19 selections heard on this disc, the first release from Acute Records, vastly improves Theoretical Girls' fortunes, albeit more than 20 years late. It constitutes a treasure trove of classic New York no wave that anyone interested in this genre will want.Theoretical Girls were led by guitarist, keyboardist, and singer Jeffrey Lohn and featured future legendary New York producer Wharton Tiers on drums, Glenn Branca on guitar, and avant-garde composer Margaret De Wys on keyboards and bass. On the Acute disc Lohn is the primary writer and singer on all the material included, although the others pitch in backing vocals from time to time. "U.S. Millie," the track included from the single, is an acknowledged classic of the genre and makes its bow on CD here. There is little detail provided as to the origin of the recordings, and no notes to speak of, but some are obviously live, others are from rehearsals and yet others may be low-budget studio recordings or demos. Certainly these recordings are better preserved, or at least more carefully transferred, than the average no wave artifacts that have surfaced so far on CD. The sound of Theoretical Girls is like a well-oiled machine that nonetheless has several moving parts sticking out of it. As Theoretical Girls' drummer, Wharton Tiers works magic, keeping these difficult arrangements (and divergent stylists) on one page. Margaret De Wys demonstrates that among no wave keyboardists (such as the Contortions' Adele Bertei and DNA's Robin Crutchfield) she had a unique sound, particularly shrill and disjointed, yet amply fitting the bill. Alternate versions are given for some titles, and in the case of "Chicita Bonita" this is particularly helpful, as the alternate has entirely different surface elements, yet the structural underpinning is the same. The two versions of "Chicita Bonita" are only six seconds apart in length, although they sound wholly different. The band's theme, "Theoretical Girls," succeeds in being hypnotic, compelling, noisy, innovative, and catchy all at once with its counting and repetition; indeed, the word "innovation" could be applied to any number of the pieces included here.Theoretical Girls split up in 1981, and shortly thereafter Glenn Branca went onto prominence as a semi-classical composer of noisy, massed electric guitar symphonies. The others were not quite so lucky in terms of celebrity, and in Lohn's case this lack of recognition has been something of a sore spot. Hopefully, the Acute release will help to improve matters all around. One side of the original single, "You Got Me," was withheld from this all-Theoretical Girls disc, as it was written by Branca; it can be found on his Atavistic compilation Songs '77-'79. Despite that so much time has gone by, and that so many bands have worked towards a similar end since, Theoretical Girls are still fresh, edgy, witty, raw, and fun. None of this music has a date stamped on its forehead, and it remains both timeless and welcome after its long eclipse and obscurity.
Some may believe, if they are aware of the late-'70s New York no wave scene at all, that the genre begins and ends with the Brian Eno-produced compilation No New York. But only four bands are found on that album, and in truth there were dozens of New York-based groups that fell into the no wave category represented only by a single or two, a ROIR cassette, or nothing. Theoretical Girls were a major group in New York no wave, but their reputation mainly rests on one small-run 45 containing two songs that was issued on their own Theoretical Records imprint in 1978. The 19 selections heard on this disc, the first release from Acute Records, vastly improves Theoretical Girls' fortunes, albeit more than 20 years late. It constitutes a treasure trove of classic New York no wave that anyone interested in this genre will want.
Theoretical Girls were led by guitarist, keyboardist, and singer Jeffrey Lohn and featured future legendary New York producer Wharton Tiers on drums, Glenn Branca on guitar, and avant-garde composer Margaret De Wys on keyboards and bass. On the Acute disc Lohn is the primary writer and singer on all the material included, although the others pitch in backing vocals from time to time. "U.S. Millie," the track included from the single, is an acknowledged classic of the genre and makes its bow on CD here. There is little detail provided as to the origin of the recordings, and no notes to speak of, but some are obviously live, others are from rehearsals and yet others may be low-budget studio recordings or demos. Certainly these recordings are better preserved, or at least more carefully transferred, than the average no wave artifacts that have surfaced so far on CD. The sound of Theoretical Girls is like a well-oiled machine that nonetheless has several moving parts sticking out of it. As Theoretical Girls' drummer, Wharton Tiers works magic, keeping these difficult arrangements (and divergent stylists) on one page. Margaret De Wys demonstrates that among no wave keyboardists (such as the Contortions' Adele Bertei and DNA's Robin Crutchfield) she had a unique sound, particularly shrill and disjointed, yet amply fitting the bill. Alternate versions are given for some titles, and in the case of "Chicita Bonita" this is particularly helpful, as the alternate has entirely different surface elements, yet the structural underpinning is the same. The two versions of "Chicita Bonita" are only six seconds apart in length, although they sound wholly different. The band's theme, "Theoretical Girls," succeeds in being hypnotic, compelling, noisy, innovative, and catchy all at once with its counting and repetition; indeed, the word "innovation" could be applied to any number of the pieces included here.
Theoretical Girls split up in 1981, and shortly thereafter Glenn Branca went onto prominence as a semi-classical composer of noisy, massed electric guitar symphonies. The others were not quite so lucky in terms of celebrity, and in Lohn's case this lack of recognition has been something of a sore spot. Hopefully, the Acute release will help to improve matters all around. One side of the original single, "You Got Me," was withheld from this all-Theoretical Girls disc, as it was written by Branca; it can be found on his Atavistic compilation Songs '77-'79. Despite that so much time has gone by, and that so many bands have worked towards a similar end since, Theoretical Girls are still fresh, edgy, witty, raw, and fun. None of this music has a date stamped on its forehead, and it remains both timeless and welcome after its long eclipse and obscurity.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:04 (thirteen years ago)
Who wants 10 more tonight?
taking a break for 20 mins. Will do 10 more if there's anyone posting inbetween. If not I'll leave it for the night.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:10 (thirteen years ago)
Funny I've never seen a lot of these album covers, even being familiar with a lot of the bands. That Theoretical Girls, for instance.
― _Rudipherous_, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:14 (thirteen years ago)
would've been hilar if dan selzer posted TOO LOW after theoretical girls placed
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:24 (thirteen years ago)
So who wants me to continue?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:29 (thirteen years ago)
that bootsy collins album is amazing + hilarious. "i have the munchies for your love"!!!!!
― Mordy, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:32 (thirteen years ago)
Depends what the next album is...
― Kitchen Person, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:37 (thirteen years ago)
260. NEIL YOUNG & CRAZY HORSE Live Rust (989 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #7 for 1979 , #154 overall | Acclaimed: #1607http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/541/MI0002541059.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7fzGyjmalFUxztXy6RZsrc
John Piccarella thinks this is the great Neil Young album, Greil Marcus thinks it's a waste, and they're both right. The two discs are probably more impressive cut for cut thanDecade, but without offering one song Young fans don't already own. I prefer the studio versions of the acoustic stuff on side one for their intimacy and touch. But I'm sure I'll play the knockdown finale--"Like a Hurricane," "Hey Hey, My My," and "Tonight's the Night," all in their wildest (and best) recorded interpretations--whenever I want to hear Neil rock out. A- -- R. Christgau
All the kudos Neil Young earned for Rust Never Sleeps he lost for Live Rust, the double-LP live album released four months later. Live Rust was the soundtrack to Young's concert film Rust Never Sleeps (he had wanted to give it that title, but Reprise vetoed the idea, fearing confusion with the earlier album), and likewise was recorded October 22, 1978, at the Cow Palace in San Francisco. But much of the Rust Never Sleeps album had been recorded on the same tour, and Live Rust repeated four songs from that disc; besides, since Young had released the career retrospective Decade in 1977, critics felt he was unfairly recycling his older material and repeating his new material. In retrospect, however, Live Rust, now a single 74-minute CD, comes off as an excellent Neil Young live album and career summary, starting with the early song "Sugar Mountain" and running through then-new songs like "My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue)" and "Powderfinger." Young is effective in both his acoustic folksinger and hard-rocking Crazy Horse bandleader modes. The various distractions of the concert itself and the film, such as the pretentious props and cowled roadies, are absent, and what's left is a terrific Neil Young concert recording.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:37 (thirteen years ago)
Ten more, A G. Dont remember if I voted for Animals or not but Sheep is def my POO for post-Syd Floyd
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:40 (thirteen years ago)
Didn't know that Au Pairs one existed, even.
― Mark G, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:44 (thirteen years ago)
259. JAMES BROWN The Payback (990 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #32 for 1974 , #1174 overall | Acclaimed: #1333 | Pitchfork: #71http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/614/MI0000614225.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7mMYTdDQ1UOw9j4vG3tCPs
Because more is often more with JB, a studio double comprising eight long songs isn't necessarily a gyp. Especially when all the songs have new titles. Not only does most of this work as dance music, but two slow ones are actually sung. "Time Is Running Out Fast," however, is a spectacularly inaccurate title for a horn-and-voice excursion that shambles on for 12:37. B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Mark DemingOriginally released in 1973 as a sprawling two-LP set, The Payback was one of James Brown's most ambitious albums of the 1970's, and also one of his best, with Brown and his band (which in 1974 still included Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker, St. Clair Pinckney, Jimmy Nolen and Jabo Starks) relentlessly exploring the outer possibilities of the James Brown groove. Stretching eight cuts out over the space of nearly 73 minutes, The Payback is long on extended rhythmic jamming, and by this time Brown and his band had become such a potent and nearly telepathic combination that the musicians were able pull out lengthy solos while still maintaining some of the most hypnotic funk to be found anywhere, and on the album's best songs -- the jazzy "Time Is Running Out Fast", the relentless "Shoot Your Shot", the tight-wound "Mind Power", and the bitter revenge fantasy of the title cut -- the tough, sinuous rhythms and the precise interplay between the players is nothing short of a wonder to behold. And even the album's lower-key cuts (such as the lovelorn "Doing The Best That I Can" and "Forever Suffering") sink their hooks into the listener and pull you in; quite simply, this is remarkable stuff, and even Brown's attempts at lyrical relevance (which were frankly getting a bit shaky at this point in his career) are firmly rooted enough to sound convincing. The Payback turned out to be one of James Brown's last inarguably great albums before he hit a long fallow streak in the mid-to-late 70's, but no one listening to this set would ever imagine that this was the work of an artist (or a band) about to run out of gas.
Originally released in 1973 as a sprawling two-LP set, The Payback was one of James Brown's most ambitious albums of the 1970's, and also one of his best, with Brown and his band (which in 1974 still included Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker, St. Clair Pinckney, Jimmy Nolen and Jabo Starks) relentlessly exploring the outer possibilities of the James Brown groove. Stretching eight cuts out over the space of nearly 73 minutes, The Payback is long on extended rhythmic jamming, and by this time Brown and his band had become such a potent and nearly telepathic combination that the musicians were able pull out lengthy solos while still maintaining some of the most hypnotic funk to be found anywhere, and on the album's best songs -- the jazzy "Time Is Running Out Fast", the relentless "Shoot Your Shot", the tight-wound "Mind Power", and the bitter revenge fantasy of the title cut -- the tough, sinuous rhythms and the precise interplay between the players is nothing short of a wonder to behold. And even the album's lower-key cuts (such as the lovelorn "Doing The Best That I Can" and "Forever Suffering") sink their hooks into the listener and pull you in; quite simply, this is remarkable stuff, and even Brown's attempts at lyrical relevance (which were frankly getting a bit shaky at this point in his career) are firmly rooted enough to sound convincing. The Payback turned out to be one of James Brown's last inarguably great albums before he hit a long fallow streak in the mid-to-late 70's, but no one listening to this set would ever imagine that this was the work of an artist (or a band) about to run out of gas.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:48 (thirteen years ago)
Meant to post an hour or so ago: I got to see the Damned perform their first album and The Black Album last year, but they did a couple cuts from this for the encore. They were amazing.
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 21:59 (thirteen years ago)
258. CRIME San Francisco's Doomed (990 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: DNPhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/697/MI0001697323.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4Scio7yIQjxUQfUDfzAKjQ
review[-] by Mark DemingBeing ahead of your time is often a bad career move, and Crime is as good an example of this theory as any band around. Crime was one of the very first acts to emerge from the West Coast punk scene, and certainly the first to record. But given California's reputation as the holy land of all that was mellow, it would take a few years for the West Coast underground to gain credibility, and record companies were ignoring the new California bands in favor of what was happening in New York City at the time. Crime only released three singles before calling it quits in 1982, and this collection of two sloppily recorded demo sessions, released by a small British label in 1992, is as close as anyone will ever get to a proper Crime album. But San Francisco's Doomed does manage to capture what a wild, powerful, and thoroughly unique band Crime was; Johnny Strike's guitar lines took a blues player's call-and-response style and stripped the structure to the frame after beefing up the body with a cranked-up Marshall stack, while Ron the Ripper's hyperactive basslines ran roughshod up, down, and around the melodies and neophyte drummer Hank Rank drove the songs home with lots of muscle and little fuss. The songs are manic bursts of pure energy that sound a shade more sophisticated than what the Ramones were doing at the same time, but with a surreal menace that's something else altogether, aided by the twisted but forceful vocal/lyrical style of Frankie Fix. It might not be absolutely clear just what "Piss on Your Dog," "I Stupid Anyway," or "I Knew This Nurse" are supposed to be about, but that won't stop listeners from trying to bellow along. Brutal, rough-edged, and with no audible sense of compromise, Crime was among the best and most distinctive of the early West Coast punk outfits, and while a deserved major retrospective has thus far eluded the band, San Francisco's Doomed at least preserves Crime's sound on plastic in all its abrasive glory, and it's a wonder to behold.
Being ahead of your time is often a bad career move, and Crime is as good an example of this theory as any band around. Crime was one of the very first acts to emerge from the West Coast punk scene, and certainly the first to record. But given California's reputation as the holy land of all that was mellow, it would take a few years for the West Coast underground to gain credibility, and record companies were ignoring the new California bands in favor of what was happening in New York City at the time. Crime only released three singles before calling it quits in 1982, and this collection of two sloppily recorded demo sessions, released by a small British label in 1992, is as close as anyone will ever get to a proper Crime album. But San Francisco's Doomed does manage to capture what a wild, powerful, and thoroughly unique band Crime was; Johnny Strike's guitar lines took a blues player's call-and-response style and stripped the structure to the frame after beefing up the body with a cranked-up Marshall stack, while Ron the Ripper's hyperactive basslines ran roughshod up, down, and around the melodies and neophyte drummer Hank Rank drove the songs home with lots of muscle and little fuss. The songs are manic bursts of pure energy that sound a shade more sophisticated than what the Ramones were doing at the same time, but with a surreal menace that's something else altogether, aided by the twisted but forceful vocal/lyrical style of Frankie Fix. It might not be absolutely clear just what "Piss on Your Dog," "I Stupid Anyway," or "I Knew This Nurse" are supposed to be about, but that won't stop listeners from trying to bellow along. Brutal, rough-edged, and with no audible sense of compromise, Crime was among the best and most distinctive of the early West Coast punk outfits, and while a deserved major retrospective has thus far eluded the band, San Francisco's Doomed at least preserves Crime's sound on plastic in all its abrasive glory, and it's a wonder to behold.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:02 (thirteen years ago)
257. CYMANDE Cymande (992 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #82 for 1972 , #2434 overall http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/843/MI0001843217.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2s0y5BFQpUv5YiXsezn4rL
What they call Nyah-rock is African with Jamaican influences--not straight reggae so much as Rastafarian by which I mean that a lot of the songs seem designed to give off a tribal aura. The groove is slow but very seductive, and while the improvisations aren't exciting as such, they're very satisfying rhythmically. The borrowed folk chants are exciting as such. B+ -- R. ChristgauThis excellent album is famous for its cuts 'The Message' and 'Bra'. But wait, cry the sceptical, Cymande aren’t a rock band! I’m not sure whether that given this relatively obscure record by a crack [sic] troupe of Black UK musicians came out in 1972 that mine could qualify as a controversial opinion, but I think they probably were. I don’t believe their very original fusion of Calypso, Afro-beat, Jazz, Soul would never have happened with the crucial agent of Rock. In the same way that The Selecter would be unequivocally described as a Rock group, so I think, should Cymande. -- Woebot
This excellent album is famous for its cuts 'The Message' and 'Bra'. But wait, cry the sceptical, Cymande aren’t a rock band! I’m not sure whether that given this relatively obscure record by a crack [sic] troupe of Black UK musicians came out in 1972 that mine could qualify as a controversial opinion, but I think they probably were. I don’t believe their very original fusion of Calypso, Afro-beat, Jazz, Soul would never have happened with the crucial agent of Rock. In the same way that The Selecter would be unequivocally described as a Rock group, so I think, should Cymande. -- Woebot
review[-] by Andrew HamiltonInvigorating head music done Rastafarian style by Cymande. "Zion I" is a spiritual chant put to music, setting the mood for Cymande. A laid-back "One More" lulls you into subliminal meditation before "Getting It Back" jolts you into some scintillating Jamaican funk-fusion. There's a message in many of Cymande's cuts, with "Listen," and "Bra" (a recognition of the women's lib movement), the most inspiring. Both are sung with passion, and are skillfully executed; the former is slow and painstaking in its message, while "Bra" slaps you upside the head with a stirring sax solo and bass-fueled vamp. An air of supreme coolness permeates Cymande, unusual for a first effort written by members of the band. Cymande sound like they have done this before; nowhere is this more evident than on the beautiful "Dove," a gorgeous concoction of lead guitar, tambourines, haunting backing vocals, and percussion, with the horns used as sparingly as table-seasoning on a gourmet dish. Along with "Bra," the group's most popular cut is "The Message" -- it's difficult keeping body parts still on this grooving mutha. All in all, Cymande is a marvelous collection that premiered a fine funk band.
Invigorating head music done Rastafarian style by Cymande. "Zion I" is a spiritual chant put to music, setting the mood for Cymande. A laid-back "One More" lulls you into subliminal meditation before "Getting It Back" jolts you into some scintillating Jamaican funk-fusion. There's a message in many of Cymande's cuts, with "Listen," and "Bra" (a recognition of the women's lib movement), the most inspiring. Both are sung with passion, and are skillfully executed; the former is slow and painstaking in its message, while "Bra" slaps you upside the head with a stirring sax solo and bass-fueled vamp. An air of supreme coolness permeates Cymande, unusual for a first effort written by members of the band. Cymande sound like they have done this before; nowhere is this more evident than on the beautiful "Dove," a gorgeous concoction of lead guitar, tambourines, haunting backing vocals, and percussion, with the horns used as sparingly as table-seasoning on a gourmet dish. Along with "Bra," the group's most popular cut is "The Message" -- it's difficult keeping body parts still on this grooving mutha. All in all, Cymande is a marvelous collection that premiered a fine funk band.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:14 (thirteen years ago)
That Cymande album is amazing. I had it for quite a while before I really fell in love with it.
― Kitchen Person, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:16 (thirteen years ago)
Still playing catch-up (and likely to be all the way through) but AG you were right about Go For Your Guns being excellent.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:18 (thirteen years ago)
ok that cymande album looks totes my speed
― Mordy, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:19 (thirteen years ago)
256. ULTRAVOX! Ultravox! (995 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #230 for 1977http://www.sentireascoltare.com/sa/uploaded_img/artists/Ultravox-2-big-large.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3ela6V5X5cG9e4HM3ox04x
"I want to be a machine" is their slogan, and with Eno producing one would hope for the best. But only on "My Sex" do they go all the way; more often these tough-surfaced post-Velvets songs identify with "the wild, the beautiful, and the damned." Eno helps them sound like a machine regardless, but unlike Eno they don't seem to enjoy it much. Which calls their humanity into question. B -- R. ChristgauProduced by Brian Eno, Steve Lillywhite and the group, Ultravox! marries the flamboyance of poseurdom to the cold minimalism of Kraftwerk, with more than a touch of punk's roughness. John Foxx's voice is typically distant, singing lyrics that contain jumbled images expressing passive dislocation (a popular Ultravox theme). While synthesizers are in short supply, the budding Ultravox style can be noted in "Dangerous Rhythm," the oddly passionate "I Want to Be a Machine" and the classic "My Sex." -- Trouser Press
Produced by Brian Eno, Steve Lillywhite and the group, Ultravox! marries the flamboyance of poseurdom to the cold minimalism of Kraftwerk, with more than a touch of punk's roughness. John Foxx's voice is typically distant, singing lyrics that contain jumbled images expressing passive dislocation (a popular Ultravox theme). While synthesizers are in short supply, the budding Ultravox style can be noted in "Dangerous Rhythm," the oddly passionate "I Want to Be a Machine" and the classic "My Sex." -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Dave ThompsonDepeche Mode claimed to be punks with synthesizers, but it was Ultravox! who first showed the kind of dangerous rhythms that keyboards could create. The quintet certainly had their antecedents -- Hawkwind, Roxy Music, and Kraftwerk to name but a few, but still it was the group's 1977 eponymous debut's grandeur (courtesy of producer Eno), wrapped in the ravaged moods and lyrical themes of collapse and decay that transported '70s rock from the bloated pastures of the past to the futuristic dystopias predicted by punk. Epic tales of alienation, disillusion, and disintegration reflected the contemporary holocaust of Britain's collapse, while accurately prophesying the dance through society's cemetery and the graveyards of empires that were to be the Thatcher/Reagan years. "Saturday Night in the City of the Dead," "Wide Boys," "The Wild, the Beautiful and the Damned," "Dangerous Rhythm," and "Slip Away" all simultaneously bemoaned and celebrated the destruction of Western culture while swaggering boldly through the wreckage; "I Want to Be a Machine" and "My Sex" warned of and yearned for technology's triumph. And it was these apposites and didactic emotions that so pierced the zeitgeist of the day, and kicked open a whole new world of synthesized music. Dangerous rhythms indeed.
Depeche Mode claimed to be punks with synthesizers, but it was Ultravox! who first showed the kind of dangerous rhythms that keyboards could create. The quintet certainly had their antecedents -- Hawkwind, Roxy Music, and Kraftwerk to name but a few, but still it was the group's 1977 eponymous debut's grandeur (courtesy of producer Eno), wrapped in the ravaged moods and lyrical themes of collapse and decay that transported '70s rock from the bloated pastures of the past to the futuristic dystopias predicted by punk. Epic tales of alienation, disillusion, and disintegration reflected the contemporary holocaust of Britain's collapse, while accurately prophesying the dance through society's cemetery and the graveyards of empires that were to be the Thatcher/Reagan years. "Saturday Night in the City of the Dead," "Wide Boys," "The Wild, the Beautiful and the Damned," "Dangerous Rhythm," and "Slip Away" all simultaneously bemoaned and celebrated the destruction of Western culture while swaggering boldly through the wreckage; "I Want to Be a Machine" and "My Sex" warned of and yearned for technology's triumph. And it was these apposites and didactic emotions that so pierced the zeitgeist of the day, and kicked open a whole new world of synthesized music. Dangerous rhythms indeed.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:28 (thirteen years ago)
such a good album
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:33 (thirteen years ago)
Not a Midge in sight
255. RUFUS & CHAKA KHAN Rags To Rufus (1001 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #363 for 1974http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/039/MI0000039206.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6It1w6avrxdHBuiu6Z7LUS
With Chaka Khan pushed up front this looks like L.A.'s answer to Tower of Power--white funk players behind black singer. Chopswise neither the hornless five-piece band nor the horny three-octave voice is up to Oakland's pride, but I prefer the attitude, which is to admit your limitations and keep it simple. Maybe no one would have noticed if Stevie Wonder hadn't given them "Tell Me Something Good." But he did. B -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Jason EliasIn many respects the group seems to be feeling their way through this. Luckily, Rags to Rufus does feature some can't-miss propositions. The great rock and funk mix of "You've Got the Love" all but sums up what Chaka Khan was going to be doing for the long haul. The biggest hit here, "Tell Me Something Good," is a rare instance of an artist like Stevie Wonder giving away a tune that he could have had a big hit with himself. That being said, it was Khan's playful and sensual vocal that put it over the top. The songs that veer from the formula suffer the most on Rags to Rufus. The cutesy "I Got the Wrong Street" and the saccharine "Walkin' the Sun" are duds. Even early on, Khan needed songs that were complicated either lyrically or musically. On Ashford & Simpson's "Ain't Nothin' but a Maybe," Khan displays the maturity and knowing that it took to make the song have that much more emotional weight. Rags to Rufus ends on a relaxing note with the tracks, "Look Through My Eyes," "In Love We Grow," and the sultry "Smoking Room." This album is far from perfect, but it's certainly representative of the band's gifts and Khan's vocal power.
In many respects the group seems to be feeling their way through this. Luckily, Rags to Rufus does feature some can't-miss propositions. The great rock and funk mix of "You've Got the Love" all but sums up what Chaka Khan was going to be doing for the long haul. The biggest hit here, "Tell Me Something Good," is a rare instance of an artist like Stevie Wonder giving away a tune that he could have had a big hit with himself. That being said, it was Khan's playful and sensual vocal that put it over the top. The songs that veer from the formula suffer the most on Rags to Rufus. The cutesy "I Got the Wrong Street" and the saccharine "Walkin' the Sun" are duds. Even early on, Khan needed songs that were complicated either lyrically or musically. On Ashford & Simpson's "Ain't Nothin' but a Maybe," Khan displays the maturity and knowing that it took to make the song have that much more emotional weight. Rags to Rufus ends on a relaxing note with the tracks, "Look Through My Eyes," "In Love We Grow," and the sultry "Smoking Room." This album is far from perfect, but it's certainly representative of the band's gifts and Khan's vocal power.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:41 (thirteen years ago)
the 80s chaka khan solo fanboys on ilm need to check out Rufus.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:44 (thirteen years ago)
254. BLACK SABBATH Sabbath Bloody Sabbath (1001 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #8 for 1973 , #186 overall | Acclaimed: #1556http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/945/MI0001945685.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7pXZhgtCuH1tXM8lXOqsen
Transformed forever from mortal status, Black Sabbath leave the shackles of life on the surface for a liquid, multi-dimensioned reality, recording this record in a castle in Wales...One could probably chalk up SBS and Sabotage as the Sab's most artistic and daring records, releases that are near indescribable, records which carry the most credence for Sabbath being viewed so seriously as creators of art on par with Zeppelin and Queen, versus more superficial comparatives Heep or Deep Purple. Definitely not pretty, or the least bit inviting on mere emotoinal levels, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, despite offering zero hope to humanity, challenges such elite rock company...Trivia note: there's an actual rock video for the title track, featuring a grinning Bill Ward quaffing a mug of beer. 8/10 -- M. PopoffThough they are best known as the planet's premier heavy-metal band, Black Sabbath's major contribution has been to successfully capture the gist of specifically Seventies culture through their music. They relate to this impersonal, mechanical decade much as Delta bluesmen and their Chicago spin-offs related to their eras -- by synthesizing collective feelings and giving their contemporaries hope by revealing the disaffection that units all of them. In that remote but real sense, Black Sabbath might well be considered true Seventies bluesmen.Many will no doubt laugh, but I can think of no other group that has so consistently spoken in the musical language of its times. The power chord, that brief but brutal third-generation staple, has always been Sabbath's major medium, the aural twin of the metallic age surrounding us. And, as such technical advances as the mellotron and Moog have risen to the musical fore, they've been incorporated into Sabbath's sonic setting, the computerized musical counterparts of a cold, programmed world.But it's Sabbath's lyrics that have been the instant conveyor of their message, accompanying a dedicated cadre through a multiplicity of emotions and worldly experiences. Ozzie Osborne possesses an eternal teenager's tones, voicing the vicarious existence of youth "lost in the wheels of confusion." On songs like "Iron Man," "Wicked World" and "Children of the Grave" he's blended with the band in a well-nigh perfect vocal/instrumental portrayal of the violently schizophrenic emotions of the ostracized elite, riddled with ridicule for their latter-day Cassandrian visions.Through drugs ("Sweet Leaf" and "Snowblind") and religion ("After Forever") Sabbath have stayed with the quest for an answer, culminating their search in such heavy-metal odes as "Into The Void" and the spectacular "Supernaut," the latter revealing in its final verse their belief that sanity is assured only through dogged belief in one's self to the exclusion of all else.Which brings us to Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath, on which the band both fully accepts this dictum and grows comfortable with it. Through enough solid heavy-metal to satisfy even the staunchest metallurgist ("Sabra Cadabra," "Looking For Today" and the title tune lie firmly within the bands' accustomed format -- a logical extension of the Who's classic mid-Sixties formula) they search for peace in the eye of the hurricane of life. In fact, this record transcends third-generation rock in that it possesses a degree of internal intricacy that belies popular conceptions of heavy-metal. The use of tempo changes and electronic keyboards to cast liquid emotions makes Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath an extraordinarily gripping affair."The blues oughtta make you wanna cry one minute, and make you wanna get up and dance the next." That's what Black Sabbath have always done for this believer, and in doing it again, Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath is nothing less than a complete success. Call it the blues of the decade, or heavy-metal -- whatever the name of their music, Black Sabbath are a true Seventies band.-- Gordon Fletcher, RS
Though they are best known as the planet's premier heavy-metal band, Black Sabbath's major contribution has been to successfully capture the gist of specifically Seventies culture through their music. They relate to this impersonal, mechanical decade much as Delta bluesmen and their Chicago spin-offs related to their eras -- by synthesizing collective feelings and giving their contemporaries hope by revealing the disaffection that units all of them. In that remote but real sense, Black Sabbath might well be considered true Seventies bluesmen.
Many will no doubt laugh, but I can think of no other group that has so consistently spoken in the musical language of its times. The power chord, that brief but brutal third-generation staple, has always been Sabbath's major medium, the aural twin of the metallic age surrounding us. And, as such technical advances as the mellotron and Moog have risen to the musical fore, they've been incorporated into Sabbath's sonic setting, the computerized musical counterparts of a cold, programmed world.
But it's Sabbath's lyrics that have been the instant conveyor of their message, accompanying a dedicated cadre through a multiplicity of emotions and worldly experiences. Ozzie Osborne possesses an eternal teenager's tones, voicing the vicarious existence of youth "lost in the wheels of confusion." On songs like "Iron Man," "Wicked World" and "Children of the Grave" he's blended with the band in a well-nigh perfect vocal/instrumental portrayal of the violently schizophrenic emotions of the ostracized elite, riddled with ridicule for their latter-day Cassandrian visions.Through drugs ("Sweet Leaf" and "Snowblind") and religion ("After Forever") Sabbath have stayed with the quest for an answer, culminating their search in such heavy-metal odes as "Into The Void" and the spectacular "Supernaut," the latter revealing in its final verse their belief that sanity is assured only through dogged belief in one's self to the exclusion of all else.
Which brings us to Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath, on which the band both fully accepts this dictum and grows comfortable with it. Through enough solid heavy-metal to satisfy even the staunchest metallurgist ("Sabra Cadabra," "Looking For Today" and the title tune lie firmly within the bands' accustomed format -- a logical extension of the Who's classic mid-Sixties formula) they search for peace in the eye of the hurricane of life. In fact, this record transcends third-generation rock in that it possesses a degree of internal intricacy that belies popular conceptions of heavy-metal. The use of tempo changes and electronic keyboards to cast liquid emotions makes Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath an extraordinarily gripping affair.
"The blues oughtta make you wanna cry one minute, and make you wanna get up and dance the next." That's what Black Sabbath have always done for this believer, and in doing it again, Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath is nothing less than a complete success. Call it the blues of the decade, or heavy-metal -- whatever the name of their music, Black Sabbath are a true Seventies band.-- Gordon Fletcher, RS
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaWith 1973's Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, heavy metal godfathers Black Sabbath made a concerted effort to prove their remaining critics wrong by raising their creative stakes and dispensing unprecedented attention to the album's production standards, arrangements, and even the cover artwork. As a result, bold new efforts like the timeless title track, "A National Acrobat," and "Killing Yourself to Live" positively glistened with a newfound level of finesse and maturity, while remaining largely faithful, aesthetically speaking, to the band's signature compositional style. In fact, their sheer songwriting excellence may even have helped to ease the transition for suspicious older fans left yearning for the rough-hewn, brute strength that had made recent triumphs like Master of Reality and Vol. 4 (really, all their previous albums) such undeniable forces of nature. But thanks to Sabbath Bloody Sabbath's nearly flawless execution, even a more adventurous experiment like the string-laden "Spiral Architect," with its tasteful background orchestration, managed to sound surprisingly natural, and in the dreamy instrumental "Fluff," Tony Iommi scored his first truly memorable solo piece. If anything, only the group's at times heavy-handed adoption of synthesizers met with inconsistent consequences, with erstwhile Yes keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman bringing only good things to the memorable "Sabbra Cadabra" (who know he was such a great boogie-woogie pianist?), while the robotically dull "Who Are You" definitely suffered from synthesizer novelty overkill. All things considered, though, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath was arguably Black Sabbath's fifth masterpiece in four years, and remains an essential item in any heavy metal collection.
With 1973's Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, heavy metal godfathers Black Sabbath made a concerted effort to prove their remaining critics wrong by raising their creative stakes and dispensing unprecedented attention to the album's production standards, arrangements, and even the cover artwork. As a result, bold new efforts like the timeless title track, "A National Acrobat," and "Killing Yourself to Live" positively glistened with a newfound level of finesse and maturity, while remaining largely faithful, aesthetically speaking, to the band's signature compositional style. In fact, their sheer songwriting excellence may even have helped to ease the transition for suspicious older fans left yearning for the rough-hewn, brute strength that had made recent triumphs like Master of Reality and Vol. 4 (really, all their previous albums) such undeniable forces of nature. But thanks to Sabbath Bloody Sabbath's nearly flawless execution, even a more adventurous experiment like the string-laden "Spiral Architect," with its tasteful background orchestration, managed to sound surprisingly natural, and in the dreamy instrumental "Fluff," Tony Iommi scored his first truly memorable solo piece. If anything, only the group's at times heavy-handed adoption of synthesizers met with inconsistent consequences, with erstwhile Yes keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman bringing only good things to the memorable "Sabbra Cadabra" (who know he was such a great boogie-woogie pianist?), while the robotically dull "Who Are You" definitely suffered from synthesizer novelty overkill. All things considered, though, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath was arguably Black Sabbath's fifth masterpiece in four years, and remains an essential item in any heavy metal collection.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:53 (thirteen years ago)
No Xgau review?
Theoretical Girls' Theoretical Record available on Spotify in US:
http://open.spotify.com/user/1234500846/playlist/38MCXpRHREX7c3PrhkYXkk
― Hellhouse, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:56 (thirteen years ago)
That's my 2nd fav. Sabbath album. Esp love the title track and National Acrobat.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:58 (thirteen years ago)
Love that Rufus album, it's not their best but it does have Tell Me Something Good on it which is all time. Rufusized is their masterpiece, hope that places too.
― Kitchen Person, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 22:59 (thirteen years ago)
too low bloody too low
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:01 (thirteen years ago)
kitchen person otm
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:02 (thirteen years ago)
and soon vinyl as well.
― dan selzer, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:02 (thirteen years ago)
Xgau didn't quite review EVERY album in the 70s ;) http://www.robertchristgau.com/get_artist.php?name=black+sabbath
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:03 (thirteen years ago)
253. GLENN BRANCA Songs '77-'79 (1004 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #272 for 1996http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/099/MI0000099231.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
review[-] by Brian OlewnickThis is a collection of eight pieces from the three years before Branca's monumental album, The Ascension, wherein the listener can hear him laying the groundwork for his later concentration on massed electric guitars and overtones. Two bands are represented: the Static, a trio including Barbara Ess and Christine Hahn; and Theoretical Girls, a quartet with Jeffrey Lohn, Margaret DeWys, and Wharton Tiers. The two songs by the Static, both from 1979, point most clearly to Branca's future direction. Largely instrumental, with intensely strummed guitar riding over a pounding rhythm, they're only a step or two from compositions like "Light Field (In Consonance)" from The Ascension. Their sound may be likened to some of the so-called no-wave bands from the period (such as DNA), but Branca already showed a far greater preoccupation with a relatively strict structural framework and a special fascination with the overtones produced by oddly tuned guitars.The earlier pieces, under the Theoretical Girls byline, are a mixed bunch. More ragged and more overtly adhering to a rock format, they fit into the noisy, punk milieu of the time as inhabited by the Contortions but, in songs like "You," they also show the possible influence of English art rock bands like Henry Cow. Happily, Branca discarded vocals within a few years, as his singing leaves something to be desired and his lyrics might best be described as "unfortunate."For admirers of his later symphonies, this collection is certainly valuable for providing a glimpse of the environment from which he grew as well as several of his ideas in nascent form. Taken on their own, several of the pieces offer rewarding listening while others are of only historical value.
This is a collection of eight pieces from the three years before Branca's monumental album, The Ascension, wherein the listener can hear him laying the groundwork for his later concentration on massed electric guitars and overtones. Two bands are represented: the Static, a trio including Barbara Ess and Christine Hahn; and Theoretical Girls, a quartet with Jeffrey Lohn, Margaret DeWys, and Wharton Tiers. The two songs by the Static, both from 1979, point most clearly to Branca's future direction. Largely instrumental, with intensely strummed guitar riding over a pounding rhythm, they're only a step or two from compositions like "Light Field (In Consonance)" from The Ascension. Their sound may be likened to some of the so-called no-wave bands from the period (such as DNA), but Branca already showed a far greater preoccupation with a relatively strict structural framework and a special fascination with the overtones produced by oddly tuned guitars.
The earlier pieces, under the Theoretical Girls byline, are a mixed bunch. More ragged and more overtly adhering to a rock format, they fit into the noisy, punk milieu of the time as inhabited by the Contortions but, in songs like "You," they also show the possible influence of English art rock bands like Henry Cow. Happily, Branca discarded vocals within a few years, as his singing leaves something to be desired and his lyrics might best be described as "unfortunate."
For admirers of his later symphonies, this collection is certainly valuable for providing a glimpse of the environment from which he grew as well as several of his ideas in nascent form. Taken on their own, several of the pieces offer rewarding listening while others are of only historical value.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:04 (thirteen years ago)
Dan you were supposed to show up earlier to say "too low!" ;)
I so didn't know that Branca was in Theoretical Girls... now I have to check that album out.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:05 (thirteen years ago)
don't let me stop you
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:07 (thirteen years ago)
i always think james murphy took inspiration from theoretical girls "us millie" for "all my friends".
i second this.
― stirmonster, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:13 (thirteen years ago)
252. CAPTAIN BEEFHEART & THE MAGIC BAND Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) (1005 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #26 for 1978 , #1025 overall | Acclaimed: #1269http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/095/MI0002095171.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7dNa4QQVoOnC6iXIGXO0JN
Inspired by the Captain's untoward comeback, I've dug out all his old albums and discovered that as far as I'm concerned this is better than any of them--more daring than Safe as Milk, fuller than Trout Mask Replica, more consistent than Lick My Decals Off, Baby. Without any loss of angularity or thickness, the new compositions achieve a flow worthy of Weill or Monk or Robert Johnson, and his lyrics aren't as willful as they used to be. Bruce Fowler's trombone is especially thaumaturgic adding an appropriately natural color to the electric atonality of the world's funniest ecology crank. A -- R. ChristgauBeefheart cut an album called Bat Chain Puller for Virgin, but legal problems prevented its release. With a new band that included ex-Mothers of Invention trombonist Bruce Fowler, he signed to Warners and released Shiny Beast, which incorporated much of the material first cut for Bat Chain Puller (and therefore used that name as a subtitle). It's a progression from Decals, as if the intervening albums had never happened, and stands as one of his best. The words are more direct than on Decals; the music smoother and more orchestral. -- Trouser PressThe name Shiny Beast in fact comes from the song "Dirty Blue Gene": "The shiny beast of thought: if you got ears, you just gotta listen". This would have been so wonderfully appropriate were it not for the fact that although "Dirty Blue Gene" was recorded for this album, it was not included in the final track list and in fact didn't surface until the next album, Doc At The Radar Station!From the opening moment of "Floppy Boot Stomp," it is clear that this was Don back on form and an incarnation of the Magic Band which was once more truly worthy of the name. The band and Don all come crashing straight in together on the first note and there is no turning back. The vocals are impassioned, like a preacher of fire and brimstone, narrating the tale of a farmer dancing to escape the devil burning his feet; a lyric that clearly betrays Don's blues roots. The song ends with the band chanting "Floppy boot / stomped down / into the ground" over and over again.Next up is "Tropical Hot Dog Night." The title is rhymed with the gleefully alliterative Lewis Carroll nonsense "Like two flamingos in a fruit fight." The combination of Bruce Fowler's trombone with Artie Tripp's marimbas and a shuffling hi-hat gives an almost calypso, Mardi Gras feel, over which Don cheerfully confides that "I'm playing this music so the young girls will come out and meet the monster tonight". Don was clearly eager to show the ladies his "Shiny Beast"!"Ice Rose" is an instrumental track, a re-invention of the earlier "Big Black Baby Shoes" which was remaindered from the sessions which produced Mirror Man andStrictly Personal more than a decade earlier. The prominent trombone has the effect of making this track very reminiscent of Frank Zappa."Harry Irene" is a fine example of Don's more "commercial", crooning side. This is a side of Captain Beefheart that is frequently overlooked because of the impact of his more outré material, however Don had frequently displayed a penchant for straightforward "pop" tunes before. Examples of this abound, from "Call On Me" on Safe As Milk (and particularly the unreleased slow version from those sessions) to "Too Much Time" on Clear Spot as well as any number of songs on the much-malignedUnconditionally Guaranteed album. This track also includes some fine examples of Don's characteristic mischievous word play: of which my favourite is the line "They sold wine like turpentine to painters" which simultaneously expresses both the quantity and the quality of the house white! Don croons like a renegade Sinatra and the music is a deliberately corny combination of ham-fisted piano with brushes on the snare and hi-hat. The song ends with Don whistling the refrain in a manner reminiscent of Otis Redding on "Dock of the Bay."The lyric sheet insert that accompanied the album simply states that the lyrics to "You Know You're A Man" are "self explanatory" and much the same is true of the music. It is a pretty straightforward piece of fairly funky blues-rock, with Don really letting rip on the vocals over the top. In keeping with the new atmosphere of mutual respect in the band, each musician in turn gets his turn at a brief solo during the song.The last track on the first side of the album is "Bat Chain Puller." As well as being the title track of the unreleased album and the unofficial title of this one, this is the undoubted highlight of the album. Despite his ecological concerns, Don was always a great lover of cars and this song was apparently inspired by the sound of the wipers on his windscreen. Robert Williams and Eric Drew Feldman recreate this sound over which Don alternates between an almost whispered delivery and contrasting impassioned howls. Jagged barbs of guitar periodically illuminate the scene like flashes of lightning and the keyboard emulates sweeping sheets of rain. What is more, if the performance here is awesome then some of the live recordings from this period make this seem positively restrained by comparison!The second side of the album opens with "When I See Mommy I Feel Like a Mummy." Don's mother was an important figure in Don's life and references to her appear in several of his lyrics. Like "Old 'Fart At Play" on Trout Mask Replica there are unmistakable Oedipus nuances to these words and he seems be expressing resentment of a lack of maternal interest. This is rather strange since we are led to believe that if anything Don enjoyed a rather indulged childhood, so how much autobiographical content should be construed is questionable. The music is brooding and menacing and dominated by the strains of Fowler's mournful trombone. As the song reaches its climax, the band are all chanting "Mummy, mummy, mummy" in the background, like a ghostly chorus of clamouring infants.Writing credits for the next song, "Owed T'Alex," are shared with Herb Bermann, a poet / songwriter with whom Don had been associated during the late sixties. This seems to suggest that this is a very old song indeed, probably dating back to the Safe As Milk era. In this case it would appear likely that the Alex in question could well be former guitarist Alex St. Claire Snouffer. If so, it would not be the first time a member of the Magic Band had been immortalised in lyrical form: for example the song "Bill's Corpse" on Trout Mask Replica was about Zoot Horn Rollo. However the angular guitar lines and tumbling drum patterns are more reminiscent of later work, so perhaps this was the fruit of a later collaboration. Whatever the provenance of the song, the harmonica solo at the end is without doubt one of Don's finest."Candle Mambo" has a similar feel to "Tropical Hot Dog Night" and I would imagine that it was recorded at the same time. Artie's marimbas are once again very much in evidence and combine with the trombone to give a sultry almost Latin feel. The tune itself is upbeat and refreshingly simple and there is an irresistibly romantic feel as Don sings in his most seductive voice "When I'm dancing with my love, the shadows flicker up above, up above the shadows do the Candle Mambo."By comparison, "Love Lies" changes the proportions of the ingredients in this rich musical gumbo to produce a wailing lament for lost love as Don sings plaintively from the depths of a shattered heart as the "Street lights flutter like fireflies" and the guitar flickers with them."Suction Prints" is far more like the Captain Beefheart of Lick My Decals Off, Baby: a punchy instrumental which allows the band to really let rip over a driving drum beat, which breaks off into some classic Magic Band musical diversions before returning to the central theme. This is the track that really gives Robert Williams a chance to shine: the drum patterns are truly inspired, unorthodox and executed with just the right combination of feeling and precision.The final track of the album is the poem "Apes-Ma." Don has been recorded as explaining that this poem concerns a female gorilla in a local zoo that he visited so regularly she came to recognise him. Apparently Don loved this ape "like a mother" and she was the love of his life - until he met his wife Jan. I am strangely inclined to dismiss this as just another instance of Don indulging in another of his favourite pastimes - recreational journalist baiting! It appears to me that this is simply an extended metaphor on a topic which was a long standing beef of 'Fart's, which he has discussed in many interviews and explored in many of his lyrics. Mankind is just another creature, descended from the apes (so "Ape is Ma"). However we consume a disproportionate portion of the world's resources ("You're eating too much....") and pollute the planet (.... and going to the bathroom too much....") because we are so overpopulated ("Your cage isn't getting any bigger, Apes Ma"). Well, at least this explanation seems a bit more likely than the idea of Don falling for a monkey does! -- Stewart Obsborne, Perfect Sound Forever
Beefheart cut an album called Bat Chain Puller for Virgin, but legal problems prevented its release. With a new band that included ex-Mothers of Invention trombonist Bruce Fowler, he signed to Warners and released Shiny Beast, which incorporated much of the material first cut for Bat Chain Puller (and therefore used that name as a subtitle). It's a progression from Decals, as if the intervening albums had never happened, and stands as one of his best. The words are more direct than on Decals; the music smoother and more orchestral. -- Trouser Press
The name Shiny Beast in fact comes from the song "Dirty Blue Gene": "The shiny beast of thought: if you got ears, you just gotta listen". This would have been so wonderfully appropriate were it not for the fact that although "Dirty Blue Gene" was recorded for this album, it was not included in the final track list and in fact didn't surface until the next album, Doc At The Radar Station!From the opening moment of "Floppy Boot Stomp," it is clear that this was Don back on form and an incarnation of the Magic Band which was once more truly worthy of the name. The band and Don all come crashing straight in together on the first note and there is no turning back. The vocals are impassioned, like a preacher of fire and brimstone, narrating the tale of a farmer dancing to escape the devil burning his feet; a lyric that clearly betrays Don's blues roots. The song ends with the band chanting "Floppy boot / stomped down / into the ground" over and over again.Next up is "Tropical Hot Dog Night." The title is rhymed with the gleefully alliterative Lewis Carroll nonsense "Like two flamingos in a fruit fight." The combination of Bruce Fowler's trombone with Artie Tripp's marimbas and a shuffling hi-hat gives an almost calypso, Mardi Gras feel, over which Don cheerfully confides that "I'm playing this music so the young girls will come out and meet the monster tonight". Don was clearly eager to show the ladies his "Shiny Beast"!"Ice Rose" is an instrumental track, a re-invention of the earlier "Big Black Baby Shoes" which was remaindered from the sessions which produced Mirror Man andStrictly Personal more than a decade earlier. The prominent trombone has the effect of making this track very reminiscent of Frank Zappa."Harry Irene" is a fine example of Don's more "commercial", crooning side. This is a side of Captain Beefheart that is frequently overlooked because of the impact of his more outré material, however Don had frequently displayed a penchant for straightforward "pop" tunes before. Examples of this abound, from "Call On Me" on Safe As Milk (and particularly the unreleased slow version from those sessions) to "Too Much Time" on Clear Spot as well as any number of songs on the much-malignedUnconditionally Guaranteed album. This track also includes some fine examples of Don's characteristic mischievous word play: of which my favourite is the line "They sold wine like turpentine to painters" which simultaneously expresses both the quantity and the quality of the house white! Don croons like a renegade Sinatra and the music is a deliberately corny combination of ham-fisted piano with brushes on the snare and hi-hat. The song ends with Don whistling the refrain in a manner reminiscent of Otis Redding on "Dock of the Bay."The lyric sheet insert that accompanied the album simply states that the lyrics to "You Know You're A Man" are "self explanatory" and much the same is true of the music. It is a pretty straightforward piece of fairly funky blues-rock, with Don really letting rip on the vocals over the top. In keeping with the new atmosphere of mutual respect in the band, each musician in turn gets his turn at a brief solo during the song.The last track on the first side of the album is "Bat Chain Puller." As well as being the title track of the unreleased album and the unofficial title of this one, this is the undoubted highlight of the album. Despite his ecological concerns, Don was always a great lover of cars and this song was apparently inspired by the sound of the wipers on his windscreen. Robert Williams and Eric Drew Feldman recreate this sound over which Don alternates between an almost whispered delivery and contrasting impassioned howls. Jagged barbs of guitar periodically illuminate the scene like flashes of lightning and the keyboard emulates sweeping sheets of rain. What is more, if the performance here is awesome then some of the live recordings from this period make this seem positively restrained by comparison!The second side of the album opens with "When I See Mommy I Feel Like a Mummy." Don's mother was an important figure in Don's life and references to her appear in several of his lyrics. Like "Old 'Fart At Play" on Trout Mask Replica there are unmistakable Oedipus nuances to these words and he seems be expressing resentment of a lack of maternal interest. This is rather strange since we are led to believe that if anything Don enjoyed a rather indulged childhood, so how much autobiographical content should be construed is questionable. The music is brooding and menacing and dominated by the strains of Fowler's mournful trombone. As the song reaches its climax, the band are all chanting "Mummy, mummy, mummy" in the background, like a ghostly chorus of clamouring infants.Writing credits for the next song, "Owed T'Alex," are shared with Herb Bermann, a poet / songwriter with whom Don had been associated during the late sixties. This seems to suggest that this is a very old song indeed, probably dating back to the Safe As Milk era. In this case it would appear likely that the Alex in question could well be former guitarist Alex St. Claire Snouffer. If so, it would not be the first time a member of the Magic Band had been immortalised in lyrical form: for example the song "Bill's Corpse" on Trout Mask Replica was about Zoot Horn Rollo. However the angular guitar lines and tumbling drum patterns are more reminiscent of later work, so perhaps this was the fruit of a later collaboration. Whatever the provenance of the song, the harmonica solo at the end is without doubt one of Don's finest."Candle Mambo" has a similar feel to "Tropical Hot Dog Night" and I would imagine that it was recorded at the same time. Artie's marimbas are once again very much in evidence and combine with the trombone to give a sultry almost Latin feel. The tune itself is upbeat and refreshingly simple and there is an irresistibly romantic feel as Don sings in his most seductive voice "When I'm dancing with my love, the shadows flicker up above, up above the shadows do the Candle Mambo."By comparison, "Love Lies" changes the proportions of the ingredients in this rich musical gumbo to produce a wailing lament for lost love as Don sings plaintively from the depths of a shattered heart as the "Street lights flutter like fireflies" and the guitar flickers with them."Suction Prints" is far more like the Captain Beefheart of Lick My Decals Off, Baby: a punchy instrumental which allows the band to really let rip over a driving drum beat, which breaks off into some classic Magic Band musical diversions before returning to the central theme. This is the track that really gives Robert Williams a chance to shine: the drum patterns are truly inspired, unorthodox and executed with just the right combination of feeling and precision.The final track of the album is the poem "Apes-Ma." Don has been recorded as explaining that this poem concerns a female gorilla in a local zoo that he visited so regularly she came to recognise him. Apparently Don loved this ape "like a mother" and she was the love of his life - until he met his wife Jan. I am strangely inclined to dismiss this as just another instance of Don indulging in another of his favourite pastimes - recreational journalist baiting! It appears to me that this is simply an extended metaphor on a topic which was a long standing beef of 'Fart's, which he has discussed in many interviews and explored in many of his lyrics. Mankind is just another creature, descended from the apes (so "Ape is Ma"). However we consume a disproportionate portion of the world's resources ("You're eating too much....") and pollute the planet (.... and going to the bathroom too much....") because we are so overpopulated ("Your cage isn't getting any bigger, Apes Ma"). Well, at least this explanation seems a bit more likely than the idea of Don falling for a monkey does! -- Stewart Obsborne, Perfect Sound Forever
review[-] by Ned RaggettSo titled because the original album, simply titled Bat Chain Puller, had to be ditched and rerecorded after a legal tuzzle involving Frank Zappa's manager, Shiny Beast turned out to be manna from heaven for those feeling Beefheart had lost his way on his two Mercury albums. Then again, what else could be assumed with a song titled "Tropical Hot Dog Night" that sounds like what happened when Beefheart encountered Miami disco and decided to make something of it? When it comes to singing, though, he's still the atypical growler, snarler and more of lore, conjuring up more wonderfully odd lyrical stories than can easily be measured, while the album as a whole gets steadily more and more bent. "You Know You're a Man" is at once straightforward and incredibly weird when it comes to love and gender, while other standouts include "Bat Chain Puller," a steady chugger that feels like a goofy death march, and the nervy freak of "Owed T'Alex." As for the Magic Band in general, keyboardist Eric Drew Feldman, guitarists Jeff Tepper and Richard Redus and drummer Robert Williams lay down the business with appropriately gone aplomb, as a listen to "Suction Prints" will demonstrate.
So titled because the original album, simply titled Bat Chain Puller, had to be ditched and rerecorded after a legal tuzzle involving Frank Zappa's manager, Shiny Beast turned out to be manna from heaven for those feeling Beefheart had lost his way on his two Mercury albums. Then again, what else could be assumed with a song titled "Tropical Hot Dog Night" that sounds like what happened when Beefheart encountered Miami disco and decided to make something of it? When it comes to singing, though, he's still the atypical growler, snarler and more of lore, conjuring up more wonderfully odd lyrical stories than can easily be measured, while the album as a whole gets steadily more and more bent. "You Know You're a Man" is at once straightforward and incredibly weird when it comes to love and gender, while other standouts include "Bat Chain Puller," a steady chugger that feels like a goofy death march, and the nervy freak of "Owed T'Alex." As for the Magic Band in general, keyboardist Eric Drew Feldman, guitarists Jeff Tepper and Richard Redus and drummer Robert Williams lay down the business with appropriately gone aplomb, as a listen to "Suction Prints" will demonstrate.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:14 (thirteen years ago)
bat (chain puller) signal to drugs.a.money
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:16 (thirteen years ago)
2 more for tonight btw
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:19 (thirteen years ago)
251. B.T. EXPRESS Do It Til You're Satisfied (1005 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #195 for 1974http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/412/MI0000412296.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5MHz5VVdsI6ikmLjZtkttp
reviewby Andrew HamiltonDo It ('Til You're Satisfied) features two million sellers by the New York natives; the title track and "Express" are funky, irresistible disco gems. Produced by Jeff Lane and mixed by Tom Moulton, the two dancefloor classics features hypnotic basslines, handclaps on alternate beats, and the coolest congas on the planet, all combined with masterfully mixed guitars, saxophones, flutes, strings, Barbara Joyce Lomas' blaring lead, Louis Risbrooks' bass vocal retorts, and Richard Thompson's support vocals. Lane was never able to repeat the tightness of the two tracks on subsequent albums or even on this one.
Do It ('Til You're Satisfied) features two million sellers by the New York natives; the title track and "Express" are funky, irresistible disco gems. Produced by Jeff Lane and mixed by Tom Moulton, the two dancefloor classics features hypnotic basslines, handclaps on alternate beats, and the coolest congas on the planet, all combined with masterfully mixed guitars, saxophones, flutes, strings, Barbara Joyce Lomas' blaring lead, Louis Risbrooks' bass vocal retorts, and Richard Thompson's support vocals. Lane was never able to repeat the tightness of the two tracks on subsequent albums or even on this one.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:30 (thirteen years ago)
Classic album. I probably had it way too low on my list.
― Kitchen Person, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:31 (thirteen years ago)
250. ERKIN KORAY ElektronikTuerkueler (1007 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #129 for 1974 , #4642 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/499/MI0003499311.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
In 1974, Koray signed with Dogan Records and it was here where he was able to finally present his artistic statement in a form that was contemporary, under his control and unrestricted by the abbreviated length of singles. And what he delivered is considered by many to be his masterwork: the full length “Elektronik Türküler” (“Electronic Ballads”) album. The longhaired Koray now also sported a beard and with a voice as sonorous and robust as ever, worked into the texture of the album’s eight tracks a layer of swirling and droning e-guitar and e-baglama interplay decorated with repercussions, bongos and tambourines. Koray recorded three of his own original Rock instrumentals alongside five remaining tracks that were all versions of Anatolian folk songs ranging in vintage from years to centuries. Koray did the arrangements and was able to unify all eight songs into a seamless trip where past and present, east and west, acoustic and electric all merged together effortlessly. Joining Koray were Sedat Avci from the old days of Koray’s Dörtlüsü on drums, bassist Ahmet Guvenc while additional players Faruk Tekbilek (baglama) and Eyup Duran (bongos) rounded out the trio.“Elektronik Türküler” begins with the traditional Anatolian ballad “Karli Daglar” (‘Snowy Mountains’) and the sound that first emerges are those of the plucked four strings of the baglama and the sound is both sensuous and languid as hell. With the sound of a telephone ringing to break the previous supinely-inducing spell, another chiftetelli/belly dance undulation rises to the surface with Koray’s instrumental, “Sir” (‘Secret’) his lead baglama book-ending a middle break where he suddenly lets loose with a stinging and entirely psychedelic guitar solo. The mood all changes with the next track, “Hele Yar,” an acoustic re-arrangement of a Turkish ballad from the 17th Century by the Anatolian troubadour, Karacaoglan. The title translates into either ‘Special Lover’ or ‘Let’s Go, Girl!’ and it “sounds” exactly like both -- it’s the most happy-go-lucky moment of the album as twin baglamas construct a dance rhythm behind lilting bass and scant drums. For several cycling verses they court a young lady as all three wander through foothills, place a flower behind her ear and then chase each other down by the seaside, ahhh... This romantic piece sees contributing background vocals by Sedat the drummer and their “blue angel” Meftun, and after endless repetitions of this dance of love and life, they all can’t take it anymore and it all breaks down in laughter. Perfect.Produced within a few minutes during a break, the brief instrumental “Korkulu Rüya” (‘Nightmare’) runs rampant with sinister organ chords held down as if they sleep’s suffocating pillow itself as backwards electric guitar streaks by laser-like as all the while a steady bass line lurks watches from a distance as though it’s the Türküdelic cousin of “Careful With That Axe, Eugene”. Koray freaks out on the organ in-between yelps and panting in terror until finally and with harried relief jerks awake to find himself back in his Istanbul pad. With its muffled T-Rex/Stones groove, a cover of Kemal Inci’s “Yalnizlar Rihtimi” (‘The Wharf of the Lonely Ones’) is the most Western moment of the album. Taking its title from a 1959 Turkish film, piano and bass buoyantly carry the melody from wharf side out into the open sea and past the promontories of care. By the end, Koray just drops off his vocal and is content to wedge in a glowing guitar solo that tears off and into the remainder of the track. Koray intones a final verse of “aaaaahh”s along with it, but his solo just carries along to the end, permanently anchored to the rhythm.Side two opens with the acoustic guitar-led love ballad, “Cemalim” (‘My Cemal’). Written by the early 20th century folk composer Urguplu Refik Basaran, this well known Anatolian folk number is here strung up by Koray’s stridently strummed acoustic guitar that continues unbendingly throughout against overdubbed electric guitar placed in patches with excellent accenting. The voices of Sedat the drummer and “blue angel” Meftun waft softly in the background, echoing Koray’s hypnotising vocal repetition of the title as he accompanies himself with highly controlled fuzz guitar and shuddering, Cipollina-like filigrees. Halfway through, it continues on with the repeat of a single word for an extended period and just rolls with the tide of Koray’s acoustic rhythm, gradually slowing in tempo to a beautifully (bitter-) sweet conclusion.The brief instrumental, “Inat” (‘Stubbornness’) opens with an e-guitar BRAAANG-BRAAANG-BRAAANG at top volume gain, and it’s a roomful of Koray-ian fuzz guitars with nowhere to do and nothing to go except to butt heads against themselves and the studio walls in this drum-less dual guitar solo against Koray’s double-tracked bongo backing. This proto-metal taxim/improvisation then falls away without warning and immediately into the nine-minute Eastern mystery odyssey that is “Türkü” (‘Ballad’), a piece co-written by the Turkish poet Nazim Hikmet and the father of modernised “türkü” (‘folk ballads’), Ruhi Su. With an opening flourish of reeds and drums the band then breaks down to allow Koray his sole baglama spot to establish the main theme. Then Ahmet Tekbilek’s kalem, that Turkish double-reed wind instrument of snake charming tendencies riffs and weaves into a truly psychedelic arabesk against a foundation of solid and simple bass and drums that keep the tempo at a hashish-resinated pace (By way of reference, it constantly reminds me of the beginning of Aphrodite’s Child’s “All The Seats Were Occupied” and The Stones’ Eastern tinged freak-out on “Gomper.”) A flourish on the guitar and the voice of Erkin the Great emerges from the shadows with cave-like reverb, slowly reciting words of great import (Although I unhesitatingly state I know not a word of Turkish, the repeated phrase of -- I think-- “bizim nos plak” gets intoned over and over again as if in consecration of a ceremonial rite and I trust its meaning is probably twice as heavy as I think.) The reeds come in and weave once more and the band is propelling itself steadily faster with Dervish-like rotary-ness. Koray’s fingering guitar trembles against weaving woodwind and everything is flying high until a quick drum accent signals an abrupt breakdown where breaking glass shattering the calm. But the high pitched woodwind continues even sweeter than before, picking itself up from the broken glass to charm back the vibe and the band enters at a pace even quicker and more muscular than before. A single baglama returns, needle-pointing back the main theme as Koray’s guitar and his trance-like intonation carries further and further back into time and Koray’s brain with each repeated “Bizim nos plak…” each word gaining further and further into ancestral echo-land where east is west and west is east... And on this album, Koray successfully synthesised it all into one. -- J. Cope
“Elektronik Türküler” begins with the traditional Anatolian ballad “Karli Daglar” (‘Snowy Mountains’) and the sound that first emerges are those of the plucked four strings of the baglama and the sound is both sensuous and languid as hell. With the sound of a telephone ringing to break the previous supinely-inducing spell, another chiftetelli/belly dance undulation rises to the surface with Koray’s instrumental, “Sir” (‘Secret’) his lead baglama book-ending a middle break where he suddenly lets loose with a stinging and entirely psychedelic guitar solo. The mood all changes with the next track, “Hele Yar,” an acoustic re-arrangement of a Turkish ballad from the 17th Century by the Anatolian troubadour, Karacaoglan. The title translates into either ‘Special Lover’ or ‘Let’s Go, Girl!’ and it “sounds” exactly like both -- it’s the most happy-go-lucky moment of the album as twin baglamas construct a dance rhythm behind lilting bass and scant drums. For several cycling verses they court a young lady as all three wander through foothills, place a flower behind her ear and then chase each other down by the seaside, ahhh... This romantic piece sees contributing background vocals by Sedat the drummer and their “blue angel” Meftun, and after endless repetitions of this dance of love and life, they all can’t take it anymore and it all breaks down in laughter. Perfect.
Produced within a few minutes during a break, the brief instrumental “Korkulu Rüya” (‘Nightmare’) runs rampant with sinister organ chords held down as if they sleep’s suffocating pillow itself as backwards electric guitar streaks by laser-like as all the while a steady bass line lurks watches from a distance as though it’s the Türküdelic cousin of “Careful With That Axe, Eugene”. Koray freaks out on the organ in-between yelps and panting in terror until finally and with harried relief jerks awake to find himself back in his Istanbul pad. With its muffled T-Rex/Stones groove, a cover of Kemal Inci’s “Yalnizlar Rihtimi” (‘The Wharf of the Lonely Ones’) is the most Western moment of the album. Taking its title from a 1959 Turkish film, piano and bass buoyantly carry the melody from wharf side out into the open sea and past the promontories of care. By the end, Koray just drops off his vocal and is content to wedge in a glowing guitar solo that tears off and into the remainder of the track. Koray intones a final verse of “aaaaahh”s along with it, but his solo just carries along to the end, permanently anchored to the rhythm.
Side two opens with the acoustic guitar-led love ballad, “Cemalim” (‘My Cemal’). Written by the early 20th century folk composer Urguplu Refik Basaran, this well known Anatolian folk number is here strung up by Koray’s stridently strummed acoustic guitar that continues unbendingly throughout against overdubbed electric guitar placed in patches with excellent accenting. The voices of Sedat the drummer and “blue angel” Meftun waft softly in the background, echoing Koray’s hypnotising vocal repetition of the title as he accompanies himself with highly controlled fuzz guitar and shuddering, Cipollina-like filigrees. Halfway through, it continues on with the repeat of a single word for an extended period and just rolls with the tide of Koray’s acoustic rhythm, gradually slowing in tempo to a beautifully (bitter-) sweet conclusion.
The brief instrumental, “Inat” (‘Stubbornness’) opens with an e-guitar BRAAANG-BRAAANG-BRAAANG at top volume gain, and it’s a roomful of Koray-ian fuzz guitars with nowhere to do and nothing to go except to butt heads against themselves and the studio walls in this drum-less dual guitar solo against Koray’s double-tracked bongo backing. This proto-metal taxim/improvisation then falls away without warning and immediately into the nine-minute Eastern mystery odyssey that is “Türkü” (‘Ballad’), a piece co-written by the Turkish poet Nazim Hikmet and the father of modernised “türkü” (‘folk ballads’), Ruhi Su. With an opening flourish of reeds and drums the band then breaks down to allow Koray his sole baglama spot to establish the main theme. Then Ahmet Tekbilek’s kalem, that Turkish double-reed wind instrument of snake charming tendencies riffs and weaves into a truly psychedelic arabesk against a foundation of solid and simple bass and drums that keep the tempo at a hashish-resinated pace (By way of reference, it constantly reminds me of the beginning of Aphrodite’s Child’s “All The Seats Were Occupied” and The Stones’ Eastern tinged freak-out on “Gomper.”) A flourish on the guitar and the voice of Erkin the Great emerges from the shadows with cave-like reverb, slowly reciting words of great import (Although I unhesitatingly state I know not a word of Turkish, the repeated phrase of -- I think-- “bizim nos plak” gets intoned over and over again as if in consecration of a ceremonial rite and I trust its meaning is probably twice as heavy as I think.) The reeds come in and weave once more and the band is propelling itself steadily faster with Dervish-like rotary-ness. Koray’s fingering guitar trembles against weaving woodwind and everything is flying high until a quick drum accent signals an abrupt breakdown where breaking glass shattering the calm. But the high pitched woodwind continues even sweeter than before, picking itself up from the broken glass to charm back the vibe and the band enters at a pace even quicker and more muscular than before. A single baglama returns, needle-pointing back the main theme as Koray’s guitar and his trance-like intonation carries further and further back into time and Koray’s brain with each repeated “Bizim nos plak…” each word gaining further and further into ancestral echo-land where east is west and west is east...
And on this album, Koray successfully synthesised it all into one. -- J. Cope
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:38 (thirteen years ago)
Shiny Beast is rad! My first Beefheart
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:39 (thirteen years ago)
As I mentioned earlier, I picked up the new reissue of Elektronik Tuerkueler. Sounds great!
I remember in college when Shiny Beast was reissued on CD for the first time. I was so excited, as I had been unable to find a vinyl copy for years. Shit I'm going to inevitably slip into geezer mode. Kids will no longer have that experience of simply being unable to find an album for years and years, read all sorts of hype about it but not even be able to hear it! And the excitement of finally getting it. Often that leads to a letdown, but not for me with Shiny Beast!
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:44 (thirteen years ago)
I think it's a great thing being able to read about something and you can straight away find and listen to it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:45 (thirteen years ago)
Of course. But it's also a unique experience to build anticipation for tortuously long periods without immediate gratification, that mostly doesn't exist. Although there are things that are still hard to find even on MP3. I've been hunting for Metro - New Love (1979) for a few months now, for example.
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:49 (thirteen years ago)
exist anymore.
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:50 (thirteen years ago)
lol i just found that in 5 seconds on soulseek
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:51 (thirteen years ago)
No way, I had that search saved!
― Fastnbulbous, Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:55 (thirteen years ago)
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Tuesday, 19 March 2013 23:55 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks viceroy!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:04 (thirteen years ago)
no problem!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:04 (thirteen years ago)
When were you thinking about finishing? If push it all out by this Friday I think it might be a little too fast IMO.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:14 (thirteen years ago)
good point and a few did ask for a slower rollout earlier. hmmm
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:16 (thirteen years ago)
If I slow the countdown to 30 a day now we can finish a week on thursday!
but I'll try plan a schedule. A slower rollout would help fnb as its a lot of work him getting quotes for 50 albums.
Probably could just do 20 a day at weekends as traffic is a bit slower.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:18 (thirteen years ago)
sounds good, however you wanna run things but its always nice to slow it down the closer we get to the end I think.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:19 (thirteen years ago)
ok I like this schedule
weds 250-221thues 220-191fri 190-161sat 160-141sun 140-121
Then I could do Mon-weds 40 a dayor Mon-Thurs 30 a day.
Thoughts?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:20 (thirteen years ago)
I like finishing on a thursday as it means people can still discuss results on friday if they weren't around for the finish on thurs night.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:22 (thirteen years ago)
I think that would be the best schedule for fastnbulbous & I
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:26 (thirteen years ago)
that sounds good to me fwiw - i'm way behind on listening
― Mordy, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:29 (thirteen years ago)
this cymande album is so great btw
― Mordy, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:30 (thirteen years ago)
you check out the isleys yet?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:33 (thirteen years ago)
yeah, they were okay. not my favorite thing i've heard thru this poll.
― Mordy, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:35 (thirteen years ago)
I'd put Cymande more with someone like War or Mandrill. All great bands that seem to be really underrated.
― Kitchen Person, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:39 (thirteen years ago)
Ohio Players are very underrated too
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:40 (thirteen years ago)
so is the relative absence of female acts on the list so far (i counted patti smith, runaways* and heart... not many for sure) due to voter apathy, or does the poll's genre criteria implicitly ignore many female acts, or ?
― Mordy, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:41 (thirteen years ago)
Lets be honest all funk bands are. Dont even see funkadelic or Parliament getting props from most rock mags like dylan etc do.
Sly Stone and Marvin Gaye are the token ones.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:42 (thirteen years ago)
oh man parliament. i am so glad i got into them thru this poll.
― Mordy, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:42 (thirteen years ago)
Mordy it means ilx didnt nominate or vote for female acts. But there's been a lot more in the results so far.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:44 (thirteen years ago)
http://rockhall.com/media/assets/exhibits/default/women-who-rock.jpg
I think its the decade mainly... Feminism's cultural sea change came too late perhaps?
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:46 (thirteen years ago)
I cant force people to nominate or vote but every single ilxor had a chance to nominate and vote. Noone was barred from doing so. Some people hate polls. It happens. The 60s and 70s do appear however to be very sexist times and there was a lot less female rock acts, its true. Cant blame the poll for that OR the rock critics who ignored them.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:48 (thirteen years ago)
Then again 70s pop had no shortage of female acts and pop never has. Is rock a boys club? Or, rather, was rock a boys club?
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:49 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah that's sadly true, Innervisions is usually thrown in there too. Great to see this list has featured plenty of the more underrated funk so far.
― Kitchen Person, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:51 (thirteen years ago)
I campaigned hard for it Kitchen Person and it turned people on to some bands.
Campaigning really works. the 80s poll and this one really proves it. A lot of people spent weeks or months checking out nominations before voting.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:54 (thirteen years ago)
Strange too cause Funkadelic is one of the hardest rocking funk bands whereas Sly and Marvin have much more smooth soul influence, and EWF gets pretty new agey at times.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:55 (thirteen years ago)
If rock mags were gonna pick a token funk act you'd think they'd go with the one that made Maggot Brain but IANARC.
I guess rock radio didn't play those bands?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 00:56 (thirteen years ago)
a lot of magazines didn't really get on board with funkadelic til one nation under a groove (because Parliament had a bit of success so they got interested)
Were there many famous female rock critics in the 70s?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:01 (thirteen years ago)
Good work. Sadly I didn't really get around to going through a lot of albums on the list before voting but I'm giving plenty of albums a go now. I've already discovered the Penetration and Thomas Leer albums which are both so great. Yes I will get around to those Ohio Players albums too, I promise.
I was hoping to discover some krautrock from the list but I guess I prefer stuff like Cluster and Future Days by Can. I tried that Guru Guru album and it just wasn't for me.
― Kitchen Person, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:03 (thirteen years ago)
You prefer the Kosmiche to the Krautrock then?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:07 (thirteen years ago)
caroline coon?
http://www.rocksbackpages.com/Library/Writer/caroline-coon
― cock chirea, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:07 (thirteen years ago)
There was Ellen Willis but I only know about her from doing a websearch... I don't really know much about rock critics though.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:08 (thirteen years ago)
Neither do I . I could name a couple of famous ones because of ilm and thats it. I obviously know Julie Burchill and Chrissie Hynde of course was a writer too.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:11 (thirteen years ago)
As you can probably tell I don't know much about the genre. My favourite Can albums are Future Days and Soon Over Babaluma, I also love Cluster (especially Zuckerzeit) La Dusseldorf and Harmonia. I've tried with things like Amon Duul II and just really didn't get into it at all.
― Kitchen Person, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:12 (thirteen years ago)
Did you check out that Far East Family Band album? The more electronic end of Krautrock wasn't nominated (like only the 1st Tangerine Dream album/1st 2 Kraftwerk was nominated because they still used traditional instruments) A few lesser known ones did get in tho.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:15 (thirteen years ago)
No I didn't check that one out yet, I will though. Yeah I think the more electronic end sounds good. Zuckerzeit is probably the album to beat at this point.
― Kitchen Person, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:19 (thirteen years ago)
Are you familiar with the 70s output of Tangerine Dream?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:20 (thirteen years ago)
very similar tastes as me, have you heard Deutsche Wertarbeit 'Deutsche Wertarbeit' & Harald Grosskopf 'Synthesist'?
― ( X '____' )/ (zappi), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:22 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah I have a couple of their albums which I like, Phaedra and Rubycon.
― ( X '____' )/ (zappi)
Haven't heard this, I just looked it up and I do recognise the cover from somewhere. I'll check it out.
― Kitchen Person, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:29 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks for the recommendations.
― Kitchen Person, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:32 (thirteen years ago)
the 3 albums before Phaedra are more experimental space music. Of the post phaedra stuff Force Majeure is my fave
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:32 (thirteen years ago)
the jazzier end of krautrock is pretty cool. check out the early 70s stuff by embryo (i think opal and steig aus were both nommed), xhol caravan and annexus quam.
― cock chirea, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 01:43 (thirteen years ago)
Oh thank god, I thought I was gonna have a breakdown! 30 a day and I can maybe get a cushion and get ahead of schedule.
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 02:14 (thirteen years ago)
I can vouch for both the Deutsche Wertarbeit and Grosskopf records being very good indeed.
― emil.y, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 03:03 (thirteen years ago)
Here's some Cope-age of Speed, Glue & Shinki (1972):
And yet, despite the 'heavy' brutal nature of Mike Hanopol's songs, Speed, Glue & Shinki's overall sound became just slightly straightened out without Masayoshi Kabe's ceaselessly strange and atonal riffing. From the near free rock of EVE, the second album began to take on some of the elements of Black Sabbath and Grand Funk that Speed, Glue & Shinki had previously avoided. In Hanopol's near-nine-minute epic 'Search for Love', the strung-out fuzz bass and analogue synthesiser brilliantly conjured up a kind of VOLUME 4-style Sabbath epic, something like 'Snowblind' if it had been played by Germany's ragged sub-sub-Kiss Tiger B. Smith. Throughout the winter of 1971, as Mike Hanopol and Joey Smith's self-belief increased daily, the second album officially became a double-LP on Atlantic Records' 1972 schedule. But as the release date approached, Ikuzo Orita suspected that the two had run out of songs. When Hanopol proposed they record a new song of his entitled 'Wanna Take You Home', some in the studio convinced Orita that they'd heard the song somewhere else. [7] But as Hanopol was yet another six-foot Filipino addition to the band, the technical team diplomatically acquiesced. Besides, the finished song was a gloriously sludgy romp even if it was through somebody else's sewer, and 'Wanna Take You Home' made the list.At this point, Japan's prestigious monthly magazine Music Life placed Speed, Glue & Shinki at number nine in their Top 50 International Artists of the Year, with Shinki gaining the number-five position in the Top 50 of International Guitarists. While Led Zeppelin, Yes and other international artists regularly topped the Music Life Top 50, Orita's Japanese acts had all, thus far, been ignored by the magazine. Delighted by the accolades and smelling a potential hit, Orita suggested they capitalise on this unexpected popularity and reduce the work to a single hard-hitting album. But Joey clearly had his heart set on a double-album and was having none of it. Feeling shut out of the creative process. Shinki invited his keyboard player mate Shigeki Watanabe from Wild Wand into Mouri Studios to record one of Shinki's own songs, a ridiculous flute-led instrumental that again undermined the guitarist's reputation. Worse still, Watanabe also recorded one of his own pieces, entitled 'Chuppy', a trite piece of pop fluff that Joey - without success - attempted to have banished from the album. Outraged by this interloper, Joey had a big Moog synthesiser installed in Mouri Studios, on which he began to 'write' his most outrageous work yet, a side-long experimental solo synthesiser medley entitled 'Sun, Planets, Life, Moon'. Coming on like Tangerine Dream's epic Moog album ZEIT, Joey's twenty-minute-long primitive weather-formation synth ramblings brought the protracted record sessions of this self-titled double-album to a conclusion.
At this point, Japan's prestigious monthly magazine Music Life placed Speed, Glue & Shinki at number nine in their Top 50 International Artists of the Year, with Shinki gaining the number-five position in the Top 50 of International Guitarists. While Led Zeppelin, Yes and other international artists regularly topped the Music Life Top 50, Orita's Japanese acts had all, thus far, been ignored by the magazine. Delighted by the accolades and smelling a potential hit, Orita suggested they capitalise on this unexpected popularity and reduce the work to a single hard-hitting album. But Joey clearly had his heart set on a double-album and was having none of it. Feeling shut out of the creative process. Shinki invited his keyboard player mate Shigeki Watanabe from Wild Wand into Mouri Studios to record one of Shinki's own songs, a ridiculous flute-led instrumental that again undermined the guitarist's reputation. Worse still, Watanabe also recorded one of his own pieces, entitled 'Chuppy', a trite piece of pop fluff that Joey - without success - attempted to have banished from the album. Outraged by this interloper, Joey had a big Moog synthesiser installed in Mouri Studios, on which he began to 'write' his most outrageous work yet, a side-long experimental solo synthesiser medley entitled 'Sun, Planets, Life, Moon'. Coming on like Tangerine Dream's epic Moog album ZEIT, Joey's twenty-minute-long primitive weather-formation synth ramblings brought the protracted record sessions of this self-titled double-album to a conclusion.
...and Far East Family Band - Parallel World (1976)
And thus, on a pissy 14th November 1975, buoyed up by incredibly high expectations, six members of Far East Family Band and their partners entered Virgin Records' already legendary studios, at Shipton-on-Cherwell Manor, just east of Woodstock, in the verdant Oxfordshire countryside. Unfortunately, due to the ludicrously strict regulations enforced by Britain's Musicians' Union, poor Joe USA had been unable to secure a work permit in time. For the six Japanese band members, however, the recording could only be a thrill ride of epic proportions. For, although barely three years into its existence, The Manor' had already entered Japan's progressive rock folklore as the birthplace of Mike Oldfield's TUBULAR BELLS, and Fumio was almost overwhelmed to be following in the footsteps of personal favourites such as Faust, Gong and Slapp Happy. With almost thirty rooms to choose from, Far East Family Band's entourage spread out around the main house and got stoned down at the lake while Fumio and Linda Miyashita scanned the new material to see if enough had been prepared. Feeling under pressure from the Frankfurt encounter, Miyashita had asked his wife to contribute lyrics to the new record. Downstairs, Klaus Schultze, accompanied by guitar maestro Gunther Schickert, [6] decided where to set up Shizu Takahashi's drums. Thereafter, Klaus, Kitaro and Akira Ito set up their huge arsenal of analogue synthesisers in an antechamber next to the control room, including a VCS3 and two ARP 2600s that the producer had shipped over from Berlin.Throughout the first week, the band worked exclusively on Fumio and Linda Miyashita's new songs, laying down tracks long into the early hours and surfacing only in the late morning. By the second week, however, the musicians were feeling so confident around Klaus Schultze that they readily agreed to his suggestions of creating music out of the moment, and Miyashita felt considerable pressure lifting off him as the band followed their German producer's directions taking them into genuinely unknown territory.Klaus grew particularly close to drummer Shizu Takahashi and synthesists Akira Ito and Kitaro, both of whom' were now encouraged by their German producer to dump chords in favour of a more kosmische approach. Indeed, by the second week, Far East Family Band were approaching the kind of thunderous percussion and synthesiser meltdown rarely achieved outside Germany, and in particular by music informed by Klaus Schultze! Like a melding-together of the Cosmic Jokers, the first Funkadelic album, Agitation Free's LAST-period 26-minute 'Looping' and much of Klaus Schultze's own work of the same period, the Japanese ensemble had - with the help of their German mentor - deployed their electronic arsenal with such effortless aplomb that each new track eclipsed their previous work, conspiring to create a wholly original work. Virtually without vocals, PARALLEL WORLD occupied the kind of vast and eternal kosmische space that only the greatest Krautrock albums had thus far commanded. Whatever crazy titles Miyashita would at a later date decide to impose on these tracks, Klaus had created one seamless and ever unfolding earth-shaking, occasionally skanking masterpiece. Indeed, by the end of the third week, both band and producer were convinced that they had a classic double-album on their hands. Moreover, staff at the Manor Studios had alerted Virgin Records' Company people, who were considering signing the band for the UK. With just one typical Miyashita composition on the whole album, the rest of the band - especially the drummer and synthesists - considered PARALLEL WORLD to be their own work, and understandably now expected writing credits as the staff at Tokyo's Columbia offices anticipated that the record could go stellar.Unfortunately for Far East Family Band, nothing but chaos ensued. Sensing that Klaus Schultze would insist on PARALLEL WORLD's being a double-LP, Virgin Records pulled out of the deal entirely, sending such negative vibes to the Japanese company that they too got cold feet. In order to fit on to one vinyl disc, Klaus was now forced to edit twenty minutes from the final album, reducing it to sixty minutes in length - still as long as the Rolling Stones' double-LP EXILE ON MAIN STREET. In Tokyo, the LP was released in a magnificent sleeve, with a massive two-sided poster that depicted the band aboard a Viking ship, Fumio Miyashita straddling the prow. Unfortunately, after the previously ecstatic songs and sounds of CHIKYU KUDO SETSU/THE CAVE DOWN TO EARTH, the band's move into such a heavy underground sound almost totally free of melodies or even of guitars was too much for Japanese fans, who rejected it completely. What had sounded complete and righteous in the English landscape meant nothing to the people who'd expected more Moody Blues and Pink Floyd. And so, right after delivering their most astonishing and forward-thinking work, Far East Family Band were dropped altogether by Columbia.
Throughout the first week, the band worked exclusively on Fumio and Linda Miyashita's new songs, laying down tracks long into the early hours and surfacing only in the late morning. By the second week, however, the musicians were feeling so confident around Klaus Schultze that they readily agreed to his suggestions of creating music out of the moment, and Miyashita felt considerable pressure lifting off him as the band followed their German producer's directions taking them into genuinely unknown territory.
Klaus grew particularly close to drummer Shizu Takahashi and synthesists Akira Ito and Kitaro, both of whom' were now encouraged by their German producer to dump chords in favour of a more kosmische approach. Indeed, by the second week, Far East Family Band were approaching the kind of thunderous percussion and synthesiser meltdown rarely achieved outside Germany, and in particular by music informed by Klaus Schultze! Like a melding-together of the Cosmic Jokers, the first Funkadelic album, Agitation Free's LAST-period 26-minute 'Looping' and much of Klaus Schultze's own work of the same period, the Japanese ensemble had - with the help of their German mentor - deployed their electronic arsenal with such effortless aplomb that each new track eclipsed their previous work, conspiring to create a wholly original work. Virtually without vocals, PARALLEL WORLD occupied the kind of vast and eternal kosmische space that only the greatest Krautrock albums had thus far commanded. Whatever crazy titles Miyashita would at a later date decide to impose on these tracks, Klaus had created one seamless and ever unfolding earth-shaking, occasionally skanking masterpiece. Indeed, by the end of the third week, both band and producer were convinced that they had a classic double-album on their hands. Moreover, staff at the Manor Studios had alerted Virgin Records' Company people, who were considering signing the band for the UK. With just one typical Miyashita composition on the whole album, the rest of the band - especially the drummer and synthesists - considered PARALLEL WORLD to be their own work, and understandably now expected writing credits as the staff at Tokyo's Columbia offices anticipated that the record could go stellar.
Unfortunately for Far East Family Band, nothing but chaos ensued. Sensing that Klaus Schultze would insist on PARALLEL WORLD's being a double-LP, Virgin Records pulled out of the deal entirely, sending such negative vibes to the Japanese company that they too got cold feet. In order to fit on to one vinyl disc, Klaus was now forced to edit twenty minutes from the final album, reducing it to sixty minutes in length - still as long as the Rolling Stones' double-LP EXILE ON MAIN STREET. In Tokyo, the LP was released in a magnificent sleeve, with a massive two-sided poster that depicted the band aboard a Viking ship, Fumio Miyashita straddling the prow. Unfortunately, after the previously ecstatic songs and sounds of CHIKYU KUDO SETSU/THE CAVE DOWN TO EARTH, the band's move into such a heavy underground sound almost totally free of melodies or even of guitars was too much for Japanese fans, who rejected it completely. What had sounded complete and righteous in the English landscape meant nothing to the people who'd expected more Moody Blues and Pink Floyd. And so, right after delivering their most astonishing and forward-thinking work, Far East Family Band were dropped altogether by Columbia.
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 06:59 (thirteen years ago)
Coincidentally picked up a copy of "Shiny Beast" yesterday for £3 (along with Tortoise's "Millions.." for £1!). It got my vote, as did "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath" and "The Payback", both of which are great if minor works of the artists in question IMO.
― Neil S, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 09:48 (thirteen years ago)
Oh and gave BLUES CREATION's "Demon & Eleven Children" a listen last night, what a great record! Amazing the number of 70s Japanese psych/metal records on Spotify. As a result of interest generated by Cope's Japrocksampler perhaps?
― Neil S, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 09:55 (thirteen years ago)
AFAICT, all of the 70s Japanese weirdo rock that Phoenix have pirated is also uploaded to Spotify, so I guess it's the same shitty folks behind that too? Same folks were also behind the Radioactive label iirc.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 10:09 (thirteen years ago)
ah, not so cool after all then. I remember Skott warning against those guys a while back.
― Neil S, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 10:20 (thirteen years ago)
Here is the Phoenix discography btw:http://www.discogs.com/label/Phoenix%20Records%20%282%29
Loads of good stuff there, but unfortunately all listed as "unofficial" reissues. Seems rather galling that now they're making money through streaming the stuff too.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 10:23 (thirteen years ago)
Forced Exposure carries all their stuff which I suppose is not cool, but otoh it means their catalogue has some quite helpful notes on most of that stuff:http://www.forcedexposure.com/labels/phoenix.records.uk.html
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 10:28 (thirteen years ago)
Will be taking it town to #210 today
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 13:36 (thirteen years ago)
249. SHUGGIE OTIS Inspiration Information (1009 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #28 for 1974 , #1078 overall | Acclaimed: #1862http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcyumivXLQ1qeud4jo1_1280.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5EvsfavFbWpzcg3VNLQEOF
What a waste. With a bigger boost from his hustler-bandleader dad, who started recording Johnny Jr. at 17 and got Al Kooper to produce the lad's first album, this genius in disguise might have become a very successful studio guitarist. You get to keep meeting the stars, and if you're biz-savvy, ad work eventually provides a reliable income stream. Instead Shug merely created what experts from the High Llamas all the way to Tortoise agree was "almost like a new style of music that could have developed but never did." Given his vocal inferiority to AWB, Hall & Oates, and the Brothers Johnson, this presumably refers to the funk-lite fusion experts from the High Llamas all the way to Tortoise have taken it upon themselves to defunkify, with cultural consequences not yet detectable. C+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineIgnored upon its release in 1974 and celebrated upon its reissue in 2001, Shuggie Otis' fourth and last album Inspiration Information exists out of time -- a record that was of its time, but didn't belong of it; a record that was idiosyncratic but not necessarily visionary. It was psychedelic soul that was released far too late to be part of any zeitgeist and it was buried at the time. Yet no matter what Luaka Bop's grand poobah David Byrne claims on the sticker -- he says Shuggie's "trippy R&B jams are equal to Marvin's and Curtis', but somehow more contemporary sounding...closer to D'Angelo meets DJ Shadow" -- this isn't revolutionary. It can occasionally sound modern, such as on the rolling head trip "XL-30," but only because it's the kind of groove Shadow would sample and build on; the slow, liquid instrumental head trips sound the same way. Perhaps that's why it can seem more contemporary -- contemporary ears are more attuned to these relaxed, warmly trippy soundscapes. Otis crafted all of this essentially alone, playing each instrument himself, and it's quite clearly a reflection of his inner psyche, and no matter how much it floats and skates upon its own sound, it's a welcoming, inviting sound. But, no matter how much the partisans claim -- and their effusive praise is plastered all over the liner notes, with Sean O'Hagan claiming that it shocks you out of a rut, Stereolab's Tim Gane says it is "almost like a new style of music that could've developed but never did" -- this isn't revolutionary, even if it's delightfully idiosyncratic. So, don't fall for the hyperbole. This isn't an album that knocks your head off -- it's subtle, intricate music that's equal parts head music and elegant funk, a record that slowly works its way under your skin. Part of the reason it sounds so intriguing in 2001 is that there just aren't that many musicians that doggedly pursue their individual vision while retaining a sense of focus. But it isn't a record without precedent, nor is it startling. It's a record for people that have heard a lot of music, maybe too much, and are looking for a new musical romance. [Luaka Bop's reissue contains four fine bonus tracks, including the original version of "Strawberry Letter 23," which the Brothers Johnson later had a hit with. The reissue also replaces the original cover -- which is nowhere to be seen in the liner notes -- with a "hip," self-consciously retro cover. Also, it has put in the "World Psychedelic Classics" with Os Mutantes, which is slightly misleading and a little unsettling -- with that subheading, there's just a little too much self-conscious, scholarly distance at play.]
Ignored upon its release in 1974 and celebrated upon its reissue in 2001, Shuggie Otis' fourth and last album Inspiration Information exists out of time -- a record that was of its time, but didn't belong of it; a record that was idiosyncratic but not necessarily visionary. It was psychedelic soul that was released far too late to be part of any zeitgeist and it was buried at the time. Yet no matter what Luaka Bop's grand poobah David Byrne claims on the sticker -- he says Shuggie's "trippy R&B jams are equal to Marvin's and Curtis', but somehow more contemporary sounding...closer to D'Angelo meets DJ Shadow" -- this isn't revolutionary. It can occasionally sound modern, such as on the rolling head trip "XL-30," but only because it's the kind of groove Shadow would sample and build on; the slow, liquid instrumental head trips sound the same way. Perhaps that's why it can seem more contemporary -- contemporary ears are more attuned to these relaxed, warmly trippy soundscapes. Otis crafted all of this essentially alone, playing each instrument himself, and it's quite clearly a reflection of his inner psyche, and no matter how much it floats and skates upon its own sound, it's a welcoming, inviting sound. But, no matter how much the partisans claim -- and their effusive praise is plastered all over the liner notes, with Sean O'Hagan claiming that it shocks you out of a rut, Stereolab's Tim Gane says it is "almost like a new style of music that could've developed but never did" -- this isn't revolutionary, even if it's delightfully idiosyncratic. So, don't fall for the hyperbole. This isn't an album that knocks your head off -- it's subtle, intricate music that's equal parts head music and elegant funk, a record that slowly works its way under your skin. Part of the reason it sounds so intriguing in 2001 is that there just aren't that many musicians that doggedly pursue their individual vision while retaining a sense of focus. But it isn't a record without precedent, nor is it startling. It's a record for people that have heard a lot of music, maybe too much, and are looking for a new musical romance. [Luaka Bop's reissue contains four fine bonus tracks, including the original version of "Strawberry Letter 23," which the Brothers Johnson later had a hit with. The reissue also replaces the original cover -- which is nowhere to be seen in the liner notes -- with a "hip," self-consciously retro cover. Also, it has put in the "World Psychedelic Classics" with Os Mutantes, which is slightly misleading and a little unsettling -- with that subheading, there's just a little too much self-conscious, scholarly distance at play.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 13:47 (thirteen years ago)
Hmmm, played with Frank Zappa and praised by Tim Gane and Sean O'Hagan, sounds like I'll need to check this out ASAP (along with a million other albums on this list)
― Moodles, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 13:51 (thirteen years ago)
and disliked by Xgau. What more do you need?!!
Actually it is a good album and worth buying. I bought that 2001 reissue when it came out.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 13:53 (thirteen years ago)
248. JAMES BLOOD ULMER Tales of Captain Black (1020 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #142 for 1979http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/978/MI0001978158.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
This isn't the great Blood Ulmer record I've been waiting for. How can it be when the saxophone player is Ornette Coleman, who makes everything he plays his own? And how can it be when the drummer is Denardo Coleman, who can't follow (let alone drive) Blood in free time or on the one? But it does offer the densest guitar improvisations anyone has put on record since Hendrix, and over catchy themes, too. And it does offer Ornette Coleman. A- -- R. ChristgauAlthough most of his early stints were with jazz organists like Hank Marr, Larry Young and Big John Patton, guitarist James Blood Ulmer is inextricably linked with pioneering saxophonist Ornette Coleman. Ostensibly the first electric guitarist to apply Coleman's harmolodics theory to his own music, Ulmer's debut finds him heavily indebted to the saxophonist. Tales of Captain Black offers Ulmer's trademark knotted, choked phrasing as a rough-hewn foil to Coleman's pure, free melodocism, but he hasn't fully discovered his own voice yet. ? Trouser Press
Although most of his early stints were with jazz organists like Hank Marr, Larry Young and Big John Patton, guitarist James Blood Ulmer is inextricably linked with pioneering saxophonist Ornette Coleman. Ostensibly the first electric guitarist to apply Coleman's harmolodics theory to his own music, Ulmer's debut finds him heavily indebted to the saxophonist. Tales of Captain Black offers Ulmer's trademark knotted, choked phrasing as a rough-hewn foil to Coleman's pure, free melodocism, but he hasn't fully discovered his own voice yet. ? Trouser Press
review[-] by Thom JurekTales of Captain Black first appeared in 1978 on the Artist House label in America. It was a label set up for the purpose of allowing visionary artists to do exactly what they wanted to do. They had issued a couple of records by Ornette Coleman previously, so it only made sense to issue one by his then guitarist, James Blood Ulmer. With Coleman on alto, his son Denardo Coleman on drums, and bassist Jamaladeen Tacuma on bass, Ornette's harmolodic theory of musical composition and improvisation (whereby on a scale of whole tones, every person in the ensemble could solo at one time and stay in this new harmony) was going to get its first test outside of his own recordings. Blood was, before he was a jazz player, a funk guitarist who had tenured with Black Nasty and a side project of George Clinton's in Detroit, as well as playing as a sideman to organ groovemaster Big John Patton. Having an ally in Tacuma, Ulmer brought funk deep into free jazz territory. The disc opens with "Theme From Captain Black," a furious exercise on the interplay between Ulmer and Tacuma's root contribution. Ulmer sounds like a sideways Jimi Hendrix driving home the rhythmic riff from "Voodoo Chile" as Tacuma charges toward Denardo to undercut the time and Coleman soars over the top. But we also hear Ulmer slipping his fills in, faster than lightning, always in the cut and rolling those strings out like a sax player. On "Moon Shine," we hear the blues angle of harmolodics assert itself. Long, repetitive melody lines are played between Coleman and Blood; there's a modal feel, but it's subverted by the lack of flats. Blood augments all his chords to be played as drone-like as possible, so then even though the piece appears to be played in a minor key, after the first two measures it makes no difference because everyone is soling, not along a set of changes but a melodic line introduced at the beginning. Here is where Blood shines. His fiery arpeggios cut across the bass and rhythm lines and become their own tempo while never leaving the ensemble. The melody restates itself only often enough for the microtonal alignment between Coleman and Blood to become apparent. They are playing in different keys, and through different modal inventions, but sound in unison. On "Revelation March," which Blood recorded on Are You Glad to Be in America, is indicative of the complexities of harmolodics; it also offers a glimpse of this music out from under Coleman's tutelage. The previous melodies were all from Coleman's fake book. Here, Blood introduces the anarchy he's interested in, allowing fragmentary ideas to assert themselves as the sole reason to engage in group improvisation. Tacuma and Denardo are more than up to the challenge. Tacuma trades single lines with Blood's triple-timed fours and chords, creating a kind of melodic invention on the fly. Denardo treats the tune as if it were a march in hyperspeed. Only Coleman dares to play his loping, easy, graceful pace, blues -- wailing it above the chaos. It's beautiful. Safe to say, there are no weak tracks on Tales From Captain Black, and even the redo of "Revealing" from Ulmer's previous album show an unbridled excitement and an extrapolation of that tune's rhythmic and harmonic elements into something more sinister, more driven, more angular, more mercurial. Captain Black marks the real beginning of Ulmer's career as a leader. It has been a bumpy, restless ride since that time with many creative and professional ups and downs, but it hardly matters. Records like this one make him the most visionary and brilliant electric guitarist in a generation.
Tales of Captain Black first appeared in 1978 on the Artist House label in America. It was a label set up for the purpose of allowing visionary artists to do exactly what they wanted to do. They had issued a couple of records by Ornette Coleman previously, so it only made sense to issue one by his then guitarist, James Blood Ulmer. With Coleman on alto, his son Denardo Coleman on drums, and bassist Jamaladeen Tacuma on bass, Ornette's harmolodic theory of musical composition and improvisation (whereby on a scale of whole tones, every person in the ensemble could solo at one time and stay in this new harmony) was going to get its first test outside of his own recordings. Blood was, before he was a jazz player, a funk guitarist who had tenured with Black Nasty and a side project of George Clinton's in Detroit, as well as playing as a sideman to organ groovemaster Big John Patton. Having an ally in Tacuma, Ulmer brought funk deep into free jazz territory. The disc opens with "Theme From Captain Black," a furious exercise on the interplay between Ulmer and Tacuma's root contribution. Ulmer sounds like a sideways Jimi Hendrix driving home the rhythmic riff from "Voodoo Chile" as Tacuma charges toward Denardo to undercut the time and Coleman soars over the top. But we also hear Ulmer slipping his fills in, faster than lightning, always in the cut and rolling those strings out like a sax player. On "Moon Shine," we hear the blues angle of harmolodics assert itself. Long, repetitive melody lines are played between Coleman and Blood; there's a modal feel, but it's subverted by the lack of flats. Blood augments all his chords to be played as drone-like as possible, so then even though the piece appears to be played in a minor key, after the first two measures it makes no difference because everyone is soling, not along a set of changes but a melodic line introduced at the beginning. Here is where Blood shines. His fiery arpeggios cut across the bass and rhythm lines and become their own tempo while never leaving the ensemble. The melody restates itself only often enough for the microtonal alignment between Coleman and Blood to become apparent. They are playing in different keys, and through different modal inventions, but sound in unison. On "Revelation March," which Blood recorded on Are You Glad to Be in America, is indicative of the complexities of harmolodics; it also offers a glimpse of this music out from under Coleman's tutelage. The previous melodies were all from Coleman's fake book. Here, Blood introduces the anarchy he's interested in, allowing fragmentary ideas to assert themselves as the sole reason to engage in group improvisation. Tacuma and Denardo are more than up to the challenge. Tacuma trades single lines with Blood's triple-timed fours and chords, creating a kind of melodic invention on the fly. Denardo treats the tune as if it were a march in hyperspeed. Only Coleman dares to play his loping, easy, graceful pace, blues -- wailing it above the chaos. It's beautiful. Safe to say, there are no weak tracks on Tales From Captain Black, and even the redo of "Revealing" from Ulmer's previous album show an unbridled excitement and an extrapolation of that tune's rhythmic and harmonic elements into something more sinister, more driven, more angular, more mercurial. Captain Black marks the real beginning of Ulmer's career as a leader. It has been a bumpy, restless ride since that time with many creative and professional ups and downs, but it hardly matters. Records like this one make him the most visionary and brilliant electric guitarist in a generation.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 14:03 (thirteen years ago)
Now there's a record that needs a reissue
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 14:13 (thirteen years ago)
247. METERS Fire On The Bayou (1023 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #411 for 1975http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/279/MI0000279527.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4IWo4Ti0jPeLRR4bObUQ53
Thanks to new conga player Cyril Neville, the singing has gotten better, but no matter how much I love "They All Ask'd for You," I'm not sure that's good. Distracts us from the drummer. And maybe it distracts the drummer, too. B ? R. Christgau
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineThe Meters' third album for Reprise, Fire on the Bayou, is their best record for the label for a variety of reasons, not least of which is the high quality of material throughout the record and a focus from the band that keeps the music simmering, even if it never quite reaches a boil. That's not a bad thing, because the music IS simmering, always hot and enticing, never lukewarm or too cool. There's not anything that comes out and grabs your throat, the way that "Hey Pocky Way" does, but there never seems to be a concession to mainstream funk, the way Cabbage Alley or Rejuvenation seemed to be. This just keeps things rolling, nice and smooth. There's not anything that separates itself from its partners -- something that's unfortunately true of all of the Reprise albums -- but the overall feel is better than The Meters' other Reprise albums, since it has more grit and presence than its compatriots. [Sundazed's 2000 reissue contains one bonus track, a "long version" of "Running Fast."]
The Meters' third album for Reprise, Fire on the Bayou, is their best record for the label for a variety of reasons, not least of which is the high quality of material throughout the record and a focus from the band that keeps the music simmering, even if it never quite reaches a boil. That's not a bad thing, because the music IS simmering, always hot and enticing, never lukewarm or too cool. There's not anything that comes out and grabs your throat, the way that "Hey Pocky Way" does, but there never seems to be a concession to mainstream funk, the way Cabbage Alley or Rejuvenation seemed to be. This just keeps things rolling, nice and smooth. There's not anything that separates itself from its partners -- something that's unfortunately true of all of the Reprise albums -- but the overall feel is better than The Meters' other Reprise albums, since it has more grit and presence than its compatriots. [Sundazed's 2000 reissue contains one bonus track, a "long version" of "Running Fast."]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 14:16 (thirteen years ago)
Just letting yall know I won't be around much today, sorry!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 14:51 (thirteen years ago)
246. THE GROUNDHOGS Who Will Save The World (1030 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #312 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/803/MI0002803342.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1tOqeKCU9WnqHAPO1UNycY
reviewby Richie UnterbergerMcPhee took the unusual step of adding progressive rock elements on this album, especially in his use of mellotron and harmonium. Blues-rock and progressive rock is not exactly a fashionable combination among critics these days, but McPhee at least deserved credit for trying something a little bit different instead of endlessly recycling the blues-rock clichés he'd mastered. Lyrically, he reached back to the socially conscious (if not terribly clear) musings on war, peace, and philosophy that had preoccupied him on the Thank Christ for the Bomb album. It wasn't gripping enough to add up to something notable, and the band were still prone to wander off into headache-inducing extended riffs, as on the closing track, "The Grey Maze."
McPhee took the unusual step of adding progressive rock elements on this album, especially in his use of mellotron and harmonium. Blues-rock and progressive rock is not exactly a fashionable combination among critics these days, but McPhee at least deserved credit for trying something a little bit different instead of endlessly recycling the blues-rock clichés he'd mastered. Lyrically, he reached back to the socially conscious (if not terribly clear) musings on war, peace, and philosophy that had preoccupied him on the Thank Christ for the Bomb album. It wasn't gripping enough to add up to something notable, and the band were still prone to wander off into headache-inducing extended riffs, as on the closing track, "The Grey Maze."
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:00 (thirteen years ago)
but we want headache-inducing riffs!!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:01 (thirteen years ago)
i've been adding each album as it appears to a folder on spotify (prefer folders of albums to giant playlists) and i'd share it but i have now discovered that you can't share folders!
― ryan, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:09 (thirteen years ago)
245. ALICE COOPER Billion Dollar Babies (1041 Points, 7 Votes)RYM: #29 for 1973 , #801 overall | Acclaimed: #1349http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/388/MI0002388160.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4SlY4oyiPg6At7vyouZ7ep
The title's as perfect as the band's latest symbol--a $, its "S" transformed into a two-headed snake. No outrage Alice has concocted equals the frank, sweaty greed of his current success. Oddly, though, this blatant profit mechanism is his most consistent album--even the song about (mercy me) necrophilia is tolerable, just like the song about tooth decay. But without a "School's Out" or an "I'm Eighteen"--neither "No More Mr. Nice Guy" nor "Elected" quite makes the grade--there's nothing to tempt anyone back to the new improved filler. B ? R. ChristgauConcerning Alice Cooper, it is by now axiomatic that any new album is intended only as the soundtrack of the latest group traveling extravaganza. But even considered as a soundtrack, Billion Dollar Babies seems an abortion. The extended numbers (ones around which the stage skits revolve) are the most abrasive. Rather than following Cream's formula of presenting a tight skeleton on vinyl that can be expanded at will onstage, the Cooper troupers insist upon acting this soundtrack concept out to the bitter end. So we get to hear large stretches of the band in total sonic disarray while dentists' drills roar ("Unfinished Sweet"), snakes hiss ("Sick Things") and guillotine blades drop ("I Love the Dead"). Zero to each song.As expected, Billion Dollar Babies doesn't cut the mustard when viewed musically, either. "Hello Hurray," which opens the album and the current stage act, is a Broadway production number by Rolf Kempf (the play escapes me), once again underscoring the "show" aspect of the Cooper experience. The adapted version gives an interesting view of the reluctant cynicism that's an unavoidable component of the rack star existence, but does precious little else. As on every other cut the band just never manages to mesh musically, and the final chorus merely bluffs its way around becoming the intended musical conjuration of the awesome instrumental power behind a rock singer. "Elected" fails similarly, a victim of incredibly inept production. Alice builds the song's tone steadily throughout, then right at the top of the final chorus, just when you're expecting the thing to explode into a fist-hoisting anthem, the whole damn thing suddenly fizzles out. Guitars decelerate, horns recede...it doesn't make any sense for a group that's had such success with power-oriented songs in the past ("Under My Wheels," "School's Out," "I'm Eighteen"), the approach is as mysterious as it is absurd.Alice himself is fond of saying that "Raped And Freezin'" is "a classic rock & roll song in the spirit of "Brown Sugar." Believe it if you can, but Jagger and Co. would never be as unmelodic, as given to ridiculously arbitrary tempo changes, or as dependent upon sound effects to create moods as is ole A.C. There's something about tape-recorded bullfights that just don't fit in with rock & roll.Donovan and Alice swap lines on the title cut, which is otherwise no different than the rest of the album -- tedium ranging from boredom to humdrumity. But seeing as how that has also been a good description of Mr. Leitch's career, his efforts here make a certain bizarre sense, something I'm sure that only Alice Cooper's followers could fully appreciate.While they're currently quite content to hide behind this "entertainment" facade, I know damn well that these guys can be good musicians. They did a version of "The Train Kept A-Rollin'" once during a sound check that might have blown the Yardbirds away! Maybe we'll get a taste of this later this year when guitarist Mike Bruce releases a solo album -- could be nice. But as it is now, with each member totally willing to submerge his musical development within the group personality, we'll continue to see a dependence on cheap tricks and illusions of decadence instead of rock & roll. Personally, I prefer a little music with my decadence, so please excuse me while I put Raw Power on the old Garrard. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
Concerning Alice Cooper, it is by now axiomatic that any new album is intended only as the soundtrack of the latest group traveling extravaganza. But even considered as a soundtrack, Billion Dollar Babies seems an abortion. The extended numbers (ones around which the stage skits revolve) are the most abrasive. Rather than following Cream's formula of presenting a tight skeleton on vinyl that can be expanded at will onstage, the Cooper troupers insist upon acting this soundtrack concept out to the bitter end. So we get to hear large stretches of the band in total sonic disarray while dentists' drills roar ("Unfinished Sweet"), snakes hiss ("Sick Things") and guillotine blades drop ("I Love the Dead"). Zero to each song.
As expected, Billion Dollar Babies doesn't cut the mustard when viewed musically, either. "Hello Hurray," which opens the album and the current stage act, is a Broadway production number by Rolf Kempf (the play escapes me), once again underscoring the "show" aspect of the Cooper experience. The adapted version gives an interesting view of the reluctant cynicism that's an unavoidable component of the rack star existence, but does precious little else. As on every other cut the band just never manages to mesh musically, and the final chorus merely bluffs its way around becoming the intended musical conjuration of the awesome instrumental power behind a rock singer.
"Elected" fails similarly, a victim of incredibly inept production. Alice builds the song's tone steadily throughout, then right at the top of the final chorus, just when you're expecting the thing to explode into a fist-hoisting anthem, the whole damn thing suddenly fizzles out. Guitars decelerate, horns recede...it doesn't make any sense for a group that's had such success with power-oriented songs in the past ("Under My Wheels," "School's Out," "I'm Eighteen"), the approach is as mysterious as it is absurd.Alice himself is fond of saying that "Raped And Freezin'" is "a classic rock & roll song in the spirit of "Brown Sugar." Believe it if you can, but Jagger and Co. would never be as unmelodic, as given to ridiculously arbitrary tempo changes, or as dependent upon sound effects to create moods as is ole A.C. There's something about tape-recorded bullfights that just don't fit in with rock & roll.
Donovan and Alice swap lines on the title cut, which is otherwise no different than the rest of the album -- tedium ranging from boredom to humdrumity. But seeing as how that has also been a good description of Mr. Leitch's career, his efforts here make a certain bizarre sense, something I'm sure that only Alice Cooper's followers could fully appreciate.
While they're currently quite content to hide behind this "entertainment" facade, I know damn well that these guys can be good musicians. They did a version of "The Train Kept A-Rollin'" once during a sound check that might have blown the Yardbirds away! Maybe we'll get a taste of this later this year when guitarist Mike Bruce releases a solo album -- could be nice. But as it is now, with each member totally willing to submerge his musical development within the group personality, we'll continue to see a dependence on cheap tricks and illusions of decadence instead of rock & roll. Personally, I prefer a little music with my decadence, so please excuse me while I put Raw Power on the old Garrard. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
review[-] by Greg PratoWith Billion Dollar Babies, Alice Cooper refined the raw grit of their earlier work in favor of a slightly more polished sound (courtesy of super-producer Bob Ezrin), resulting in a mega-hit album that reached the top of the U.S. album charts. Song for song, Billion Dollar Babies is probably the original Alice Cooper group's finest and strongest. Such tracks as "Hello Hooray," the lethal stomp of the title track, the defiant "Elected" (a rewrite of an earlier song, "Reflected"), and the poison-laced pop candy of "No More Mr. Nice Guy" remain among Cooper's greatest achievements. Also included are a pair of perennial concert standards -- the disturbing necrophilia ditty "I Love the Dead" and the chilling macabre of "Sick Things" -- as well as such strong, lesser-known selections as "Raped and Freezin'," "Unfinished Sweet," and perhaps Cooper's most overlooked gem, "Generation Landslide." Nothing seemed like it could stop this great hard rock band from overtaking the universe, but tensions between the members behind the scenes would force the stellar original AC band to split up after just one more album. Not only is Billion Dollar Babies one of Cooper's very best; it remains one of rock's all-time, quintessential classics.
With Billion Dollar Babies, Alice Cooper refined the raw grit of their earlier work in favor of a slightly more polished sound (courtesy of super-producer Bob Ezrin), resulting in a mega-hit album that reached the top of the U.S. album charts. Song for song, Billion Dollar Babies is probably the original Alice Cooper group's finest and strongest. Such tracks as "Hello Hooray," the lethal stomp of the title track, the defiant "Elected" (a rewrite of an earlier song, "Reflected"), and the poison-laced pop candy of "No More Mr. Nice Guy" remain among Cooper's greatest achievements. Also included are a pair of perennial concert standards -- the disturbing necrophilia ditty "I Love the Dead" and the chilling macabre of "Sick Things" -- as well as such strong, lesser-known selections as "Raped and Freezin'," "Unfinished Sweet," and perhaps Cooper's most overlooked gem, "Generation Landslide." Nothing seemed like it could stop this great hard rock band from overtaking the universe, but tensions between the members behind the scenes would force the stellar original AC band to split up after just one more album. Not only is Billion Dollar Babies one of Cooper's very best; it remains one of rock's all-time, quintessential classics.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:11 (thirteen years ago)
244. ISLEY BROTHERS Showdown (1049 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #322 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/820/MI0000820511.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Disco has been good for this band musically: the chic guitar-and-chant of the title tune, the slow, sensuous funk of "Groove With You," and the enigmatic air of "Ain't Givin' Up No Love" are refreshing variants on their basic moon-and-vroom, and both "Rockin' the Fire" and "Take Me to the Next Phase" are pure dance-peak ideology. Doesn't do much for their politics, though. B ? R. Christgau
reviewby Alex HendersonThe Isley Brothers' 3 + 3 lineup only lasted about ten years, which isn't that long when you consider that the group was formed in 1954 (19 years before the 3 + 3 lineup was unveiled) and was still touring in the late '90s. By 1980, you were hearing more and more complaints about how formulaic the 3 + 3 lineup had become, but when Showdown came out in 1978, the lineup hadn't lost any of its freshness. Showdown, in fact, is generally excellent. The Isleys bring a great deal of passion to funk/rock scorchers like "Rockin' With Fire," "Love Fever," and the number one hit "Take Me to the Next Phase," and they are equally appealing on the smooth, caressing slow jam "Groove With You" (another major hit). Meanwhile, the slow-burning "Ain't Givin' Up No Love" is one of the most bluesy things that the 3 + 3 sextet recorded. 1977's Go for Your Guns, the album that preceded Showdown, was an incredibly tough act to follow. But even if Showdown isn't quite in a class with that treasure, it comes impressively close.
The Isley Brothers' 3 + 3 lineup only lasted about ten years, which isn't that long when you consider that the group was formed in 1954 (19 years before the 3 + 3 lineup was unveiled) and was still touring in the late '90s. By 1980, you were hearing more and more complaints about how formulaic the 3 + 3 lineup had become, but when Showdown came out in 1978, the lineup hadn't lost any of its freshness. Showdown, in fact, is generally excellent. The Isleys bring a great deal of passion to funk/rock scorchers like "Rockin' With Fire," "Love Fever," and the number one hit "Take Me to the Next Phase," and they are equally appealing on the smooth, caressing slow jam "Groove With You" (another major hit). Meanwhile, the slow-burning "Ain't Givin' Up No Love" is one of the most bluesy things that the 3 + 3 sextet recorded. 1977's Go for Your Guns, the album that preceded Showdown, was an incredibly tough act to follow. But even if Showdown isn't quite in a class with that treasure, it comes impressively close.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:26 (thirteen years ago)
Another classic
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:32 (thirteen years ago)
243. EDGAR BROUGHTON BAND Edgar Broughton Band (1053 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #164 for 1971 , #4663 overall
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/884/MI0001884657.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Peddling a self-consciously Beefheartian funk-rock, their most famous single "Dropout Apache" splices together the Captain's "Dropout Boogie" with a cover of the Shadows "Apache" with such eerie precision and sonic fidelity that it must be marked out as the first ever Bootleg cut-up. Generally dismissed as manifesting the worst qualities of the era, I cherish Morrissey's quote about Radiohead "I don't know why they don't just call themselves The Edgar Broughton Band and get it over with," because of its unintentionally mutually-flattering comparison. Really what would be so bad about that? This their third album is probably their most consistent, highlights being solid break-friendly "Madhatter," the galloping "The House of Turnabout" and their epic "Evening over the Rooftops" with accompanying orchestra scored by classical refugee David Bedford. -- Woebot
review[-] by Dave ThompsonThe most conventional of the Edgar Broughton Band's first (and best) three albums, 1971's Edgar Broughton Band finds the group dispensing with the no-holds-barred mania and theatricality responsible for such classics as "Out Demons Out," "Up Yours," and "Apache Drop Out" and concentrating instead on more musical endeavors. It's an approach that arguably captures the band at their very best at the same time as revealing them at their ugliest. The two-part epic "For Dr. Spock" conjures images of Gong, as it drifts closer to space rock than the Edgar Broughton Band had hitherto ventured, while "House of Turnabout" certainly restates the group's free-freak credentials with its rumbling percussion and scything guitars, a second cousin to the roars that punctuated Wasa Wasa and Sing Brother Sing. The heart of Edgar Broughton Band, however, lies elsewhere. The lilting chant "Thinking About You," with its spectral reminders of John Lennon's "Working Class Hero," is certainly one of their most rancorous concoctions, while "Evening Over Rooftops" rides an acoustic guitar as pretty as its flowery lyric, but you know there's something rotten squirming just below the surface, even if you can never quite put your finger on it. The pure pop backing vocals, all "sha-la-la" and "doo-be-doo-be-doo," of course, only add to your unease. And, as that is merely the opening number, you can guess what you're in for over the rest of the album long before you actually get it.
The most conventional of the Edgar Broughton Band's first (and best) three albums, 1971's Edgar Broughton Band finds the group dispensing with the no-holds-barred mania and theatricality responsible for such classics as "Out Demons Out," "Up Yours," and "Apache Drop Out" and concentrating instead on more musical endeavors. It's an approach that arguably captures the band at their very best at the same time as revealing them at their ugliest. The two-part epic "For Dr. Spock" conjures images of Gong, as it drifts closer to space rock than the Edgar Broughton Band had hitherto ventured, while "House of Turnabout" certainly restates the group's free-freak credentials with its rumbling percussion and scything guitars, a second cousin to the roars that punctuated Wasa Wasa and Sing Brother Sing. The heart of Edgar Broughton Band, however, lies elsewhere. The lilting chant "Thinking About You," with its spectral reminders of John Lennon's "Working Class Hero," is certainly one of their most rancorous concoctions, while "Evening Over Rooftops" rides an acoustic guitar as pretty as its flowery lyric, but you know there's something rotten squirming just below the surface, even if you can never quite put your finger on it. The pure pop backing vocals, all "sha-la-la" and "doo-be-doo-be-doo," of course, only add to your unease. And, as that is merely the opening number, you can guess what you're in for over the rest of the album long before you actually get it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:35 (thirteen years ago)
xp bloke with the bra-top drew the short straw on that cover
― Neil S, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:35 (thirteen years ago)
Groundhogs -
The next LP, Who Will Save the World? went into the top 10 for the third consecutive and final time. This time McPhee decided to incorporate elements of Progressive Rock, finding expression mainly by the adding of a Mellotron to the heavy Blues Rock which got the band famous. "Earth is Not Room Enough" and "Wages of Peace" are good examples for that newly cooked McPhee combination, while the 10 minutes long "The Grey Maze" provides another taste of the tremendous riffs and jams which chracterized the previous two albums.
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:36 (thirteen years ago)
242. KLEENEX Beri Beri / Ain't You / Hedi's Head / Nice EP (1054 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #16 for 1978 , #986 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/711/MI0001711198.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Completism is for obscurantists, only not this time. You want everything ever recorded by these English-speaking, English-singing, English-yelling, English-murmuring Swiss maids--46 1978-1983 tracks, precisely 11 of which were ever album-available in the U.S., where they sold some 600 copies. The evolution of Formerly Kleenex from punk primitives to postpunk postprimitives proceeds as if God planned it, without dead ends or maladaptations. They burst out with some of the funniest jump-up-and-down ditties ever to jolly bohemians into dancing. Then they mellow, musing sinuously without losing their feminism or their sense of humor. They remain my favorite girl band of all time. And their sound effects are a universal language. A ? R. ChristgauFormerly known as Kleenex (with a batch of 45s under that name), the three Swiss women in Liliput play a now-popular form of anti-rock characterized by choppy rhythms, harsh melodies and atonal vocals. Amazingly, they exhibit such upbeat enthusiasm in their attack that the music acquires a prickly charm. Hard on the ears, though. (Guitarist Marlene Marder later resurfaced in Dangermice.) ? Trouser Press
Formerly known as Kleenex (with a batch of 45s under that name), the three Swiss women in Liliput play a now-popular form of anti-rock characterized by choppy rhythms, harsh melodies and atonal vocals. Amazingly, they exhibit such upbeat enthusiasm in their attack that the music acquires a prickly charm. Hard on the ears, though. (Guitarist Marlene Marder later resurfaced in Dangermice.) ? Trouser Press
review[-] by Andy KellmanSwitzerland's Off Course label was the first to issue this infamous double-disc set in 1993, which contains the entire recorded outputs of Kleenex and the following Liliput. It went out of print shortly after release, and since it was on a small label to begin with, not many were able to obtain it before its collector value shot through the roof. With the gradual, steady rise of female-dominated bands in the '80s and '90s who followed their path, this compilation became a holy grail. Thanks to some goading from journalist Jason Gross and involvement from the Kill Rock Stars label (who are paying a musical debt here), Kleenex and Liliput constant Marlene Marder saw to it that the compilation became available again. Aside from the two Liliput LPs (1982's Liliput and 1983's weaker Some Songs), the compilation includes four singles, one EP, and another LP's worth of intermittent outtakes and unreleased material. The Rough Trade singles differ greatly from one another, each holding a high level of quality. The unreleased material doesn't match the hot singles or great first LP, but it's enough to qualify as gravy. As to whether or not these recordings were worthy of hundreds of dollars, that can only be judged by those who paid such a sum. What's collected here certainly belongs in the same realm as the other great, pioneering, female-dominated bands of the time. Liliput were one of the finest in their field, male or female. From their punkier singles as Kleenex to their more avant-garde developments as Liliput, this compilation offers over two solid hours of great music that hasn't depreciated at all. In light of all the bands they've inspired, this stuff probably sounds even better than it did when it was first issued.
Switzerland's Off Course label was the first to issue this infamous double-disc set in 1993, which contains the entire recorded outputs of Kleenex and the following Liliput. It went out of print shortly after release, and since it was on a small label to begin with, not many were able to obtain it before its collector value shot through the roof. With the gradual, steady rise of female-dominated bands in the '80s and '90s who followed their path, this compilation became a holy grail. Thanks to some goading from journalist Jason Gross and involvement from the Kill Rock Stars label (who are paying a musical debt here), Kleenex and Liliput constant Marlene Marder saw to it that the compilation became available again. Aside from the two Liliput LPs (1982's Liliput and 1983's weaker Some Songs), the compilation includes four singles, one EP, and another LP's worth of intermittent outtakes and unreleased material. The Rough Trade singles differ greatly from one another, each holding a high level of quality. The unreleased material doesn't match the hot singles or great first LP, but it's enough to qualify as gravy. As to whether or not these recordings were worthy of hundreds of dollars, that can only be judged by those who paid such a sum. What's collected here certainly belongs in the same realm as the other great, pioneering, female-dominated bands of the time. Liliput were one of the finest in their field, male or female. From their punkier singles as Kleenex to their more avant-garde developments as Liliput, this compilation offers over two solid hours of great music that hasn't depreciated at all. In light of all the bands they've inspired, this stuff probably sounds even better than it did when it was first issued.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:45 (thirteen years ago)
Failure to appreciate "Hello Hurray" or the title track from BDB is a failure to appreciate Alice Cooper!! That album is packed with jams. "Elected" reminds me of the last batch of Republican presidential primary candidates.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
Bits of "Ain't You" sound like bits of "We are the cheeky girls" (the "This is what you want" bit at the end)
― Mark G, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
241. FELA KUTI Open & Close (1071 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #183 for 1971http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/124/MI0003124961.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7cIx5JGj7gD2fKKGF6Q5O0
review[-] by Richie UnterbergerThis CD reissue combines two early-'70s albums -- Open & Close and Afrodisiac -- on a single disc. Open & Close has just three songs, all in the ten- to 15-minute range, mixing some of the improvisational verve of jazz into Kuti's Afro-funk stew. There's a bittersweet, faintly melancholy tone to some of the progressions that differentiates this from much African pop of then and later, and the half-dozen percussionists set a good bed on which the horns and electric keyboards swap lines. "Gbagada Gbagada Gbogodo Gbogodo" is highlighted by extensive call-and-response vocals between Kuti and the band. The four (as usual, lengthy) songs occupying Aphrodisiac had been originally recorded in Nigeria as 45 rpm releases, though that album consists of re-recordings of these done in London in the early '70s. (Confusingly, one part of the liner notes gives the years 1972-1973 as the recording dates, while another section says they were cut in 1971.) While it's true that Fela Kuti's records from this period are pretty similar to each other, in their favor they're not boring. These four workouts, all sung in Nigerian, are propulsive mixtures of funk and African music, avoiding the homogeneity of much funk and African records of later vintage, done with nonstop high energy. The interplay between horns, electric keyboards, drums, and Kuti's exuberant vocals gives this a jazz character without sacrificing the earthiness that makes it danceable as well. "Jeun Ko Ku (Chop'n Quench)" became Kuti's first big hit in Nigeria, selling 200,000 copies in its first six months in its initial version.
This CD reissue combines two early-'70s albums -- Open & Close and Afrodisiac -- on a single disc. Open & Close has just three songs, all in the ten- to 15-minute range, mixing some of the improvisational verve of jazz into Kuti's Afro-funk stew. There's a bittersweet, faintly melancholy tone to some of the progressions that differentiates this from much African pop of then and later, and the half-dozen percussionists set a good bed on which the horns and electric keyboards swap lines. "Gbagada Gbagada Gbogodo Gbogodo" is highlighted by extensive call-and-response vocals between Kuti and the band. The four (as usual, lengthy) songs occupying Aphrodisiac had been originally recorded in Nigeria as 45 rpm releases, though that album consists of re-recordings of these done in London in the early '70s. (Confusingly, one part of the liner notes gives the years 1972-1973 as the recording dates, while another section says they were cut in 1971.) While it's true that Fela Kuti's records from this period are pretty similar to each other, in their favor they're not boring. These four workouts, all sung in Nigerian, are propulsive mixtures of funk and African music, avoiding the homogeneity of much funk and African records of later vintage, done with nonstop high energy. The interplay between horns, electric keyboards, drums, and Kuti's exuberant vocals gives this a jazz character without sacrificing the earthiness that makes it danceable as well. "Jeun Ko Ku (Chop'n Quench)" became Kuti's first big hit in Nigeria, selling 200,000 copies in its first six months in its initial version.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:53 (thirteen years ago)
One for Mordy
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:55 (thirteen years ago)
This is the fela I voted for
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 15:57 (thirteen years ago)
240. XHOL Motherfuckers GMBH & Co KG (1073 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #443 for 1972http://moole.ru/uploads/posts/2010-05/1274558229_48eea18858f1.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5zPTucSJdPOrGC1RoaEkHd
Confusingly MOTHERFUCKERS GMBH & CO KG proclaimed on the cover to be "2 years old" placing it in-between ELECTRIP and HAU-RUK. Obviously a collection of archive recordings: a few snippets of Soul Caravan can be heard in the opening "Radio" as well as a short slice of ELECTRIP, a Faust-like opening to a very varied album, with its superb lengthy organ piece "Orgelsolo", spaced-out flute lead instrumentals and a lengthy psychedelic blues number "Love Potion 25". A superb epitaph. -- Cosmic Egg
review[-] by Rolf SemprebonBetween the album's title and the cover art, crudely handwritten song titles, and other information on a smudgy background, Xhol Caravan (or Xhol, since the Caravan is crossed off their name) were living up to their reputation as one of the most defiantly underground of the Krautrock bands. The music on Motherfuckers, Xhol's third record, recorded in 1970 but not released until two years later on the legendary Ohr label, is even more diverse and experimental than earlier efforts. The opening track, "Radio," sounds like the beginning of Faust's first album, radio static out of which bits of songs emerge, early Xhol tracks and even a couple excerpts from the band's earlier incarnation as a conventional R&B act, Soul Caravan. "Orgelsolo," on the other hand, is a nine-and-a-half minute ambient organ solo that starts off quite minimal before going into the cosmic realms of Klaus Schulz. The less interesting "Grille" begins with crickets chirping for several minutes before a flute and bongo improvisation gets added in. The other tracks are more similar to the jazzy rock improvisations of earlier Xhol. Of these, the last track is a real standout, a live version of "Love Potion Number 9" that is some of Xhol's freakiest acid-fried material as it flies out into orbit into a long 13-minute improvisational before the crazed vocalist returns toward the end. Spanning free jazz, psychedelic and progressive rock, Motherfuckers is an intense work of creative, mind-warped music.
Between the album's title and the cover art, crudely handwritten song titles, and other information on a smudgy background, Xhol Caravan (or Xhol, since the Caravan is crossed off their name) were living up to their reputation as one of the most defiantly underground of the Krautrock bands. The music on Motherfuckers, Xhol's third record, recorded in 1970 but not released until two years later on the legendary Ohr label, is even more diverse and experimental than earlier efforts. The opening track, "Radio," sounds like the beginning of Faust's first album, radio static out of which bits of songs emerge, early Xhol tracks and even a couple excerpts from the band's earlier incarnation as a conventional R&B act, Soul Caravan. "Orgelsolo," on the other hand, is a nine-and-a-half minute ambient organ solo that starts off quite minimal before going into the cosmic realms of Klaus Schulz. The less interesting "Grille" begins with crickets chirping for several minutes before a flute and bongo improvisation gets added in. The other tracks are more similar to the jazzy rock improvisations of earlier Xhol. Of these, the last track is a real standout, a live version of "Love Potion Number 9" that is some of Xhol's freakiest acid-fried material as it flies out into orbit into a long 13-minute improvisational before the crazed vocalist returns toward the end. Spanning free jazz, psychedelic and progressive rock, Motherfuckers is an intense work of creative, mind-warped music.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:01 (thirteen years ago)
239. FLOWER TRAVELLIN' BAND Made In Japan (1075 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #232 for 1972http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zq8l1Bqf1fk/T3eyPr1sEYI/AAAAAAAABEg/kPi2mzmmM2w/s1600/Made+In+Japan.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3eBuX16RkLYf0PvsI8xXnf
If you dig: Hard Rock, Blues Rock, Black Sabbath. Made in Japan, the band's third album which was also recorded in Canada and released in February 72, is an almost direct continuation to Satori in the aspectsw of heavy sound and eastern influences, only it is more song oriented. IT opens with a sample from "Lucky Man" by ELP (with whom they shared the stage in Toronto in 1971), with the wonderful "Unaware" tailing it. The band members, who ware born during WWII, again reflect on the nation's bleeding wounds ("Hiroshima" and "Kamikaze"). "Heaven and Hell" channels Hendrix directly while album closer "That's All" is the most tranquil and Japanese of them all. Great album, even if not as mind blowing as Satori. Loved it? Try: II Rovescio Della Medaglia. -- R. ChelledExiles on Vancouver Island: The Story of MADE IN JAPANDespite the huge artistic success of SATORI, both Orita and Utchida were highly disappointed with Flower's commercial progress at home in Japan. Sure, they continued to play large concert halls, but compared to musically tame Japanese-language bands such as Garo and Happy End, Flower was nowhere at all. In hindsight, the so-called New Rock phenomenon had been nothing more than a brief afterglow of the death throes of the Group Sounds scene, and Japan's capricious hippie audience was by now more enthralled by the wishy-washy singer-songwriters thrown up in the wake of international stars such as James Taylor, Carole King, Carly Simon and Neil Young. Even Julie Sawada's cynical New Rock supergroup Pyg had failed on account of their hard-rock stance and dedication to Stones, Mountain and Deep Purple covers, and no one understood their own market better than the ex-Tigers vocalist.Yuya Utchida decided that his band should tour where its audience was most enthusiastic, and accepted an offer to support the Canadian band Lighthouse on their forthcoming home tour. Led by keyboard player Paul Hoffert, Lighthouse was a jazzy Blood Sweat & Tears-styled outfit with a brass section and a large Canadian audience. At the end of the tour, the band agreed that Paul Hoffert should produce their third LP, and they played before a Toronto audience of 30,000 as support to Emerson, Lake & Palmer and Bob Seger.In the Canadian studio, however, Hideki Ishima found himself entirely compromised by the producer. As a songwriter and jazz-orientated keyboard player, Hoffert felt no particular affinity for loud rock guitar and appeared determined only to explore Joe Yamanaka's ballad side. Worse still, Hoffert commissioned Yoko Nomura - wife of Flower's road manager - to write a whole set of lyrics for the new Canadian-recorded album, to be titled (with no little irony) MADE IN JAPAN. Thousands of miles adrift from the safe lunacy of Utchida and Orita, and worried about paying the rent, the band set about reconciling their music with Hoffert's decidedly conservative vision. Then, with the album completed by early spring 1972, the four broke and pissed-off band members fled back to Tokyo where the folk revival was burning even more blandly than before they'd left.Back in Tokyo, this new album that had sounded so abject in Vancouver was actually well received by Utchida and Orita, who recognised that Hoffert's decision to trim back Ishima's guitar chaos at least allowed the record its place in the current Japanese scene, and even agreed to release the song 'Kamikaze' as a single. The acoustic minor-chord blues of the opening song, 'Unaware', sounded like Arthur Lee's classic Love song 'Signed DC', while Ishima's clever acoustic implementation of Black Sabbath's so-called Satanic chords throughout rendered the record unlike anything they'd heard before. For 'Hiroshima', Hideki Ishima had cleverly set Yoko Nomura's beautiful death lyrics to the same music as 'Satori Part 3', here rendered both on acoustic and electric guitars, evoking the same transcendental raga effects as YETI-period Amon Düül 2. Indeed, of the eight tracks, only the facile lyrical Crosstianity of 'Heaven and Hell' stood out as being poorly translated C.S. Lewis fare; Joe's bizarre genius for running long syllables right across the metre managing to render even these dubious sentiments palatably mysterious. Utchida gathered all of the Canadian reviews and promotional material together and pasted up the MADE IN JAPAN cover to look as though it had arrived in a heavy brown reinforced cardboard case. Ikuzo Orita agreed to release the album in a heavy cardboard box, and the band set about promoting the record. -- J. Cope
Exiles on Vancouver Island: The Story of MADE IN JAPAN
Despite the huge artistic success of SATORI, both Orita and Utchida were highly disappointed with Flower's commercial progress at home in Japan. Sure, they continued to play large concert halls, but compared to musically tame Japanese-language bands such as Garo and Happy End, Flower was nowhere at all. In hindsight, the so-called New Rock phenomenon had been nothing more than a brief afterglow of the death throes of the Group Sounds scene, and Japan's capricious hippie audience was by now more enthralled by the wishy-washy singer-songwriters thrown up in the wake of international stars such as James Taylor, Carole King, Carly Simon and Neil Young. Even Julie Sawada's cynical New Rock supergroup Pyg had failed on account of their hard-rock stance and dedication to Stones, Mountain and Deep Purple covers, and no one understood their own market better than the ex-Tigers vocalist.
Yuya Utchida decided that his band should tour where its audience was most enthusiastic, and accepted an offer to support the Canadian band Lighthouse on their forthcoming home tour. Led by keyboard player Paul Hoffert, Lighthouse was a jazzy Blood Sweat & Tears-styled outfit with a brass section and a large Canadian audience. At the end of the tour, the band agreed that Paul Hoffert should produce their third LP, and they played before a Toronto audience of 30,000 as support to Emerson, Lake & Palmer and Bob Seger.
In the Canadian studio, however, Hideki Ishima found himself entirely compromised by the producer. As a songwriter and jazz-orientated keyboard player, Hoffert felt no particular affinity for loud rock guitar and appeared determined only to explore Joe Yamanaka's ballad side. Worse still, Hoffert commissioned Yoko Nomura - wife of Flower's road manager - to write a whole set of lyrics for the new Canadian-recorded album, to be titled (with no little irony) MADE IN JAPAN. Thousands of miles adrift from the safe lunacy of Utchida and Orita, and worried about paying the rent, the band set about reconciling their music with Hoffert's decidedly conservative vision. Then, with the album completed by early spring 1972, the four broke and pissed-off band members fled back to Tokyo where the folk revival was burning even more blandly than before they'd left.
Back in Tokyo, this new album that had sounded so abject in Vancouver was actually well received by Utchida and Orita, who recognised that Hoffert's decision to trim back Ishima's guitar chaos at least allowed the record its place in the current Japanese scene, and even agreed to release the song 'Kamikaze' as a single. The acoustic minor-chord blues of the opening song, 'Unaware', sounded like Arthur Lee's classic Love song 'Signed DC', while Ishima's clever acoustic implementation of Black Sabbath's so-called Satanic chords throughout rendered the record unlike anything they'd heard before. For 'Hiroshima', Hideki Ishima had cleverly set Yoko Nomura's beautiful death lyrics to the same music as 'Satori Part 3', here rendered both on acoustic and electric guitars, evoking the same transcendental raga effects as YETI-period Amon Düül 2. Indeed, of the eight tracks, only the facile lyrical Crosstianity of 'Heaven and Hell' stood out as being poorly translated C.S. Lewis fare; Joe's bizarre genius for running long syllables right across the metre managing to render even these dubious sentiments palatably mysterious. Utchida gathered all of the Canadian reviews and promotional material together and pasted up the MADE IN JAPAN cover to look as though it had arrived in a heavy brown reinforced cardboard case. Ikuzo Orita agreed to release the album in a heavy cardboard box, and the band set about promoting the record. -- J. Cope
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaAs the follow-up to Flower Travellin' Band's unrivaled Satori album, 1972's Made in Japan was probably doomed to fall short of expectations from the get-go, but the peculiar conditions of its creation didn't help matters either. Having met with encouraging critical success but rather meager actual sales receipts in their native Japan, FTB was shipped off to conquer the West -- or rather, Canada -- because of a timely offer to open for local jazz-rock outfit Lighthouse, whose leader and keyboard player, Paul Hoffert, would wind up producing the group's next effort, the fallaciously named Made in Japan. Problem was, Hoffert's musical vision clashed directly against FTB's defining heavy rock foundations, and although the band's powerful manager, Yuya Utchida, came away happier with the finished product than the bandmembers themselves, the album's songs still made for a less consistent, and certainly less potent collection than those of its predecessor. Which nevertheless meant that it was pretty darn good! Yes, the plodding thud of "Aw Give Me Air" barely left room for its salvaging, fluid, overlaid guitar licks, and where Satori had served as a suitably alien landscape above which singer Joe Yamanaka's wildest shrieks could soar untethered, Made in Japan's earthier songs, like the mostly acoustic "Unaware" and the Hendrix-inspired love-in theme, "Heaven or Hell," sometimes left him naked and exposed to the elements, in turn. But when FTB planted their collective foot down firmly upon their lysergic heavy rock comfort zone, resulting leviathans like "Kamikaze" and "Hiroshima" (which revisited the melodic sequence introduced one year earlier by "Satori, Part III") equaled their highest of highs (no weed-puffing pun intended), despite their cliché-worthy titles. Nearly as powerful was the aptly named "Spasms," which shuddered and flailed with a certain Krautrock spirit, and the album-closing "That's All," which crawled like a funeral march blending the Doors' "The End" with exotic shades of Indian music and faux sitar. Most fans then and now agreed that this foursome easily made up for the not-quite-stellar threesome detailed earlier, but for a group whose sales figures were already lagging behind both the critical support and their manager's not inconsiderable gift of hype, Made in Japan wasn't able to reverse Flower Travellin' Band's gradual career descent, which would accelerate towards extinction with the following year's artistically scattered, half-live, half-studio double album, Make Up.
As the follow-up to Flower Travellin' Band's unrivaled Satori album, 1972's Made in Japan was probably doomed to fall short of expectations from the get-go, but the peculiar conditions of its creation didn't help matters either. Having met with encouraging critical success but rather meager actual sales receipts in their native Japan, FTB was shipped off to conquer the West -- or rather, Canada -- because of a timely offer to open for local jazz-rock outfit Lighthouse, whose leader and keyboard player, Paul Hoffert, would wind up producing the group's next effort, the fallaciously named Made in Japan. Problem was, Hoffert's musical vision clashed directly against FTB's defining heavy rock foundations, and although the band's powerful manager, Yuya Utchida, came away happier with the finished product than the bandmembers themselves, the album's songs still made for a less consistent, and certainly less potent collection than those of its predecessor. Which nevertheless meant that it was pretty darn good! Yes, the plodding thud of "Aw Give Me Air" barely left room for its salvaging, fluid, overlaid guitar licks, and where Satori had served as a suitably alien landscape above which singer Joe Yamanaka's wildest shrieks could soar untethered, Made in Japan's earthier songs, like the mostly acoustic "Unaware" and the Hendrix-inspired love-in theme, "Heaven or Hell," sometimes left him naked and exposed to the elements, in turn. But when FTB planted their collective foot down firmly upon their lysergic heavy rock comfort zone, resulting leviathans like "Kamikaze" and "Hiroshima" (which revisited the melodic sequence introduced one year earlier by "Satori, Part III") equaled their highest of highs (no weed-puffing pun intended), despite their cliché-worthy titles. Nearly as powerful was the aptly named "Spasms," which shuddered and flailed with a certain Krautrock spirit, and the album-closing "That's All," which crawled like a funeral march blending the Doors' "The End" with exotic shades of Indian music and faux sitar. Most fans then and now agreed that this foursome easily made up for the not-quite-stellar threesome detailed earlier, but for a group whose sales figures were already lagging behind both the critical support and their manager's not inconsiderable gift of hype, Made in Japan wasn't able to reverse Flower Travellin' Band's gradual career descent, which would accelerate towards extinction with the following year's artistically scattered, half-live, half-studio double album, Make Up.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:11 (thirteen years ago)
Whoa, two psychedelic monuments right there.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:14 (thirteen years ago)
Epic. AG, my version of MS Word at work yesterday converted some "--" into a special dash character that ILM doesn't like and converts to a question mark. If it bothers you, can search/replace.
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:16 (thirteen years ago)
doesnt bother me at all. If it does i will replace but I will probably not even notice anything
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:18 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks for all the hard work you're putting in. The reviews are great and are better than my amg reviews that i copy & paste.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:20 (thirteen years ago)
238. WIPERS Is This Real? (1076 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #16 for 1980 , #836 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/099/MI0002099404.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Three guys from Portland (Oregon, but it might just as well be Maine) who caught on to punk unfashionably late and for that reason sound like they're still discovering something. Which hardly makes them unique--there are similar bands in dozens if not hundreds of American cities, many of whom send me records. What distinguishes this one is Greg Sage's hard-edged vocals--detached but never silly, passionate but never overwrought--and economical one-hook construction. B+ -- R. Christgau (who lists it as 1979 even though everywhere else says 1980).Led by singer/guitarist Greg Sage, Portland, Oregon's Wipers began as a trio playing heavy rock that mixed high velocity and volume to obscure songs with introspective and intelligent lyrics. Is This Real? is a case in point. Raw, abrasive and hard-hitting, it's come to be considered such a touchstone in Northwest punk/grunge history that Sub Pop reissued it (adding the three non-LP B-sides from Alien Boy) fourteen years later, after Nirvana covered not one, but two, of its songs. -- Trouser Press
Led by singer/guitarist Greg Sage, Portland, Oregon's Wipers began as a trio playing heavy rock that mixed high velocity and volume to obscure songs with introspective and intelligent lyrics. Is This Real? is a case in point. Raw, abrasive and hard-hitting, it's come to be considered such a touchstone in Northwest punk/grunge history that Sub Pop reissued it (adding the three non-LP B-sides from Alien Boy) fourteen years later, after Nirvana covered not one, but two, of its songs. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Stephen HowellThe production leaves much to be desired with its tinny-sounding drums, but, fortunately, the negatives don't outweigh the positives on this album. Guitarist/vocalist Greg Sage writes fairly simplistic songs with power chords, but each melody infects your brain like a fever. Even though Sage is from Oregon, he sings in a New York-style slur not dissimilar to Joey Ramone. Throughout the album, there is a very dark and ominous feel to the material (e.g., "D-7"), but it's made interesting on tracks like "Alien Boy," which changes from 4/4 time to 2/4 time. Sage also has a unique guitar style where he strums chords and lets them sustain into feedback, which creates rich textures in the songs (e.g., "Potential Suicide" and "Don't Know What I Am").
The production leaves much to be desired with its tinny-sounding drums, but, fortunately, the negatives don't outweigh the positives on this album. Guitarist/vocalist Greg Sage writes fairly simplistic songs with power chords, but each melody infects your brain like a fever. Even though Sage is from Oregon, he sings in a New York-style slur not dissimilar to Joey Ramone. Throughout the album, there is a very dark and ominous feel to the material (e.g., "D-7"), but it's made interesting on tracks like "Alien Boy," which changes from 4/4 time to 2/4 time. Sage also has a unique guitar style where he strums chords and lets them sustain into feedback, which creates rich textures in the songs (e.g., "Potential Suicide" and "Don't Know What I Am").
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:22 (thirteen years ago)
AMG says this is 1980 therefore it should be disqualified but fuck it its only #238 but whoever nominated it must go stand in the corner.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:23 (thirteen years ago)
EdwardIII go stand in the corner you naughty boy.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:24 (thirteen years ago)
237. THE COSMIC JOKERS The Cosmic Jokers (1087 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #290 for 1973http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/617/MI0001617470.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
The Cosmic Jokers came into being by the whim of Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser, out of impromptu studio sessions made at Dieter Dierks studio during spring 1973, featuring musicians from Ash Ra Tempel and Wallenstein. No such band as The Cosmic Jokers ever existed, and these recordings were never actually intended for release. They were the results of sketches for new ideas, extracts from wild LSD induced jams and the like. Fortunately for fans of Kosmische Musik, music from these sessions gained release by devious means, and the three albums that resulted are quite extraordinary examples of space-rock, fleshing out the Ash Ra Tempel type sound with dense wedges of keyboards and synthesizers.The first step towards all this was Ash Ra Tempel's SEVEN UP, followed by other similar projects, often credited to The Cosmic Jokers (in retrospect, but not originally released as such) namely Sergius GolowinLORD KRISHNA VON GOLOKA and Walter Wegmüller TAROT.The strangest of the three albums resulting from the spring 1973 sessions is THE COSMIC JOKERS itself. Here we have the freaky "Galactic Joke" on side 1 with its synthesizer overload and feast of wah-wah guitar, sounding like Ash Ra Tempel crossed with early Hawkwind. But, especially strange is the flip-side "Cosmic Joy", which thunders off into the cosmos towards the realms of Amon Düül II's equally stunning drum driven cosmic opus "The Chasmin Soundtrack", as it becomes ever more lost within itself amidst a muddle of effects and phasing. -- Cosmic Egg
review[-] by Rolf SemprebonThe first of Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser's exploitive cosmic space rock albums is also the best, and certainly kicks the seat out of the many jam bands that arose in the '90s. Unlike most "super groups" who collapse under the weight of their own hubris, the Cosmic Jokers, who were never really a proper group anyway, almost improve upon the sound of their precursors, namely Manuel Göttsching and Klaus Schulze from acid-jam-supreme Ash Ra Tempel, and Jurgen Dollase and Harald Grosskopf from blitzkrieg psychedelic Wallenstein. Structurally, the record is similar to those vintage Ash Ra Tempel albums, with two sidelong suites, the first side representing the peak of the acid freakout and the second side more relaxed, acting as the chill out later in the trip. Thus, the first side, "&Galactic Joke," has more emphasis on Gottsching's freaked-out guitar, as the music slowly builds to full phased-out fury and then subsides and builds again. The flip side, "Cosmic Joke," is mellower, though no less improvised as it travels with Schulze's keyboard washes at the forefront into deepest space on a similarly slow ebb and flow. The effects are laid on much thicker than on a normal Ash Ra effort, especially on this second track, enhancing the sci-fi aspects as the mixing board of Dieter Dierks adds another dimension to the sound. Unlike later Cosmic Jokers records, where vocals were added in, this album is completely instrumental, letting the music stand by itself.
The first of Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser's exploitive cosmic space rock albums is also the best, and certainly kicks the seat out of the many jam bands that arose in the '90s. Unlike most "super groups" who collapse under the weight of their own hubris, the Cosmic Jokers, who were never really a proper group anyway, almost improve upon the sound of their precursors, namely Manuel Göttsching and Klaus Schulze from acid-jam-supreme Ash Ra Tempel, and Jurgen Dollase and Harald Grosskopf from blitzkrieg psychedelic Wallenstein. Structurally, the record is similar to those vintage Ash Ra Tempel albums, with two sidelong suites, the first side representing the peak of the acid freakout and the second side more relaxed, acting as the chill out later in the trip. Thus, the first side, "&Galactic Joke," has more emphasis on Gottsching's freaked-out guitar, as the music slowly builds to full phased-out fury and then subsides and builds again. The flip side, "Cosmic Joke," is mellower, though no less improvised as it travels with Schulze's keyboard washes at the forefront into deepest space on a similarly slow ebb and flow. The effects are laid on much thicker than on a normal Ash Ra effort, especially on this second track, enhancing the sci-fi aspects as the mixing board of Dieter Dierks adds another dimension to the sound. Unlike later Cosmic Jokers records, where vocals were added in, this album is completely instrumental, letting the music stand by itself.
First it was just funny to watch, but suddenly the few real inventors (Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, Kraftwerk) were lumped together with all the poor and long gone Krautrock. The characteristics of quality (if I may say so) were not valid anymore. Someone told me that Cope has a kind of TOP 50 Albums or so in his book and among it are most (if not all) of those terrible "Cosmic Jokers" albums. These albums get no better just because a crazy English singer loves them (and maybe just because out of non-musical reasons). Was he the only one in his adolescent years who owned these albums and therefore was proud of them? I know that syndrome from MY childhood- with me it was "jazz". - Klaus D. Muellerhttp://www.furious.com/perfect/krautrock.html
http://www.furious.com/perfect/krautrock.html
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:30 (thirteen years ago)
I'd say the AMG reviews are more right-on 80% more often than Xgau, but of course he didn't have the benefit of hindsight usually. Some of the RS reviews are brilliant, some are crap. It's more interesting to see their take on things at the time rather than opinions revised after time's gone by though!
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:32 (thirteen years ago)
It's more interesting to see their take on things at the time rather than opinions revised after time's gone by though!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:33 (thirteen years ago)
and tbh i like the Christgau albums because of their rongness!
*reviews
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:34 (thirteen years ago)
I think there will be people lurking on the thread just to read the xgau/rolling stone etc reviews.
That Wipers album is 1979 according to Discogs:
http://www.discogs.com/Wipers-Is-This-Real/master/54366
http://www.recordsale.de/cdpix/w/wipers-is_this_real%28clear_vinyl%29.jpg
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:35 (thirteen years ago)
236. AC/DC Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap (1096 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #142 for 1976http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/571/MI0001571328.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
A 1976 Australian LP released in the wake of their ascension to the U.S. top ten, this is where those of us who weren't paying attention meet the blokelike croak of the legendary Bon Scott, asphyxiated by his own vomit shortly after Highway to Hell broke them Stateside. Now I understand why they say Brian Johnson has a great voice--he's got about about three times the range and wattage, the bloke as fantasy-fiction demigod. But those who prefer Scott's charm have a point. Like Ian Hunter or Roger Chapman though without their panache, he has fun being a dirty young man--he almost slavers through "Ain't No Fun Waiting Round to Be a Millionaire," and "Big Balls" is fully outrageous in its class hostility. Needless to say, sexual hostility--disguised as fun, of course--is more his speed. C+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineThere's a real sense of menace to "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap," the title song of AC/DC's third album. More than most of their songs to date, it captured the seething malevolence of Bon Scott, the sense that he reveled in doing bad things, encouraged by the maniacal riffs of Angus and Malcolm Young who provided him with their most brutish rock & roll yet. But for as glorious as the title track was, the entire album served as a call to arms from a group that wanted nothing more than to celebrate the dirtiest, nastiest instincts humans could have, right down to the insurgent anti-authority vibe that runs throughout the record. Take "Big Balls" -- sure, it's a dirty joke, but it's a dirty joke with class overthrow in mind. There's a sense on Dirty Deeds that AC/DC is storming the gates -- they're problem children sick of waiting around to be a millionaire, so they're gonna make their own money, even if they take down others as they go. That's what gives Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap its supercharged, nervy pulse; there's a real sense of danger to this record, something that can't be hidden beneath the jokes. Maybe that's why the album wasn't released in the U.S. until 1981, after Bon's death, after AC/DC had become millionaires -- if it arrived any earlier, it would have been too insurrectionist for the common good.
There's a real sense of menace to "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap," the title song of AC/DC's third album. More than most of their songs to date, it captured the seething malevolence of Bon Scott, the sense that he reveled in doing bad things, encouraged by the maniacal riffs of Angus and Malcolm Young who provided him with their most brutish rock & roll yet. But for as glorious as the title track was, the entire album served as a call to arms from a group that wanted nothing more than to celebrate the dirtiest, nastiest instincts humans could have, right down to the insurgent anti-authority vibe that runs throughout the record. Take "Big Balls" -- sure, it's a dirty joke, but it's a dirty joke with class overthrow in mind. There's a sense on Dirty Deeds that AC/DC is storming the gates -- they're problem children sick of waiting around to be a millionaire, so they're gonna make their own money, even if they take down others as they go. That's what gives Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap its supercharged, nervy pulse; there's a real sense of danger to this record, something that can't be hidden beneath the jokes. Maybe that's why the album wasn't released in the U.S. until 1981, after Bon's death, after AC/DC had become millionaires -- if it arrived any earlier, it would have been too insurrectionist for the common good.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:40 (thirteen years ago)
Love that Cosmic Jokers album, have listened to a couple of their others but not found them anywhere near as good.
― Gavin, Leeds, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:49 (thirteen years ago)
235. CRASS The Feeding of the 5000 (1102 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #140 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/642/MI0000642264.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
The Feeding of the Five Thousand is a reissue of the group's debut EP on Small Wonder. Fitting eighteen songs on a 12-inch 45, it is typical of Crass' shock tactics: the first cut is a sneering recitation of "Asylum," an irreverent dismissal of Christ as anybody's lord over droning guitar feedback. The rest is mostly raw faster-louder punk spiked with protest demagoguery, four-letter words and harsh Cockney ranting. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Richie UnterbergerPerhaps the most uncompromising early British punk record, though a long way from the best. This is far more interesting for its form than its content; super-brief, incoherent rants over pummeling drums and incomprehensible vocals were made into a hardcore cliché by the early '80s, but were impossibly radical and noisy in 1978. If you're at all left-of-center, you can find a good deal to sympathize with in the lyrics, addressing class warfare, social hypocrisy, organized religion, and punk rock itself with serious venom. It's not without humor at times, either, as on the famous chorus, "Do they owe us a living? Of course they f*cking do!" (A lyric sheet, always an essential item for Crass releases, is provided.) But the melodic and textural qualities of the record, not to mention the throat-full-of-vomit vocals, are so unrelentingly harsh and monotonous that it's difficult to imagine anybody playing this for pleasure. With a band such as this, that might indeed be the point, but it doesn't make for lasting art. The most enduring piece, actually, had relatively little to do with traditional punk rock: On "Asylum," the spoken female voice delivers a vitriolic attack on Christianity over disquieting guitar feedback.
Perhaps the most uncompromising early British punk record, though a long way from the best. This is far more interesting for its form than its content; super-brief, incoherent rants over pummeling drums and incomprehensible vocals were made into a hardcore cliché by the early '80s, but were impossibly radical and noisy in 1978. If you're at all left-of-center, you can find a good deal to sympathize with in the lyrics, addressing class warfare, social hypocrisy, organized religion, and punk rock itself with serious venom. It's not without humor at times, either, as on the famous chorus, "Do they owe us a living? Of course they f*cking do!" (A lyric sheet, always an essential item for Crass releases, is provided.) But the melodic and textural qualities of the record, not to mention the throat-full-of-vomit vocals, are so unrelentingly harsh and monotonous that it's difficult to imagine anybody playing this for pleasure. With a band such as this, that might indeed be the point, but it doesn't make for lasting art. The most enduring piece, actually, had relatively little to do with traditional punk rock: On "Asylum," the spoken female voice delivers a vitriolic attack on Christianity over disquieting guitar feedback.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:50 (thirteen years ago)
I was thinking possibly the Wipers album had an initial release of limited copies, and then was reissued the next year, but didn't research it fully.
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 16:54 (thirteen years ago)
234. HAWKLORDS 25 Years On (1108 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #225 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/811/MI0001811557.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4PAuAbYJvlpFwg593X3hQz
For legal reasons, and to reflect a new direction, the group was christened the Hawklords. Fliply futuristic in lyrical slant, and more succinct and modern (almost ? gasp ? new wave) in sonic approach, 25 Years On is immediately likable and catchy, if surprisingly lightweight. (King and House made contributions in the LP's early stages.) -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Dave ThompsonWhen Hawkwind, fresh from the latest round of breakups and defections, reignited themselves as the Hawklords, few among even the grassroots faithful knew precisely what to expect. The main band's last album, Quark Strangeness and Charm, had drifted far from the miasmic space drone of the "classic" years, and a growing interest in electronics and quirk left the band teetering on the edge of new wave pop -- again, a long way from any sphere the group might normally have orbited. 25 Years On continued that reinvention and, in so doing, emerged as one of the last truly great Hawkwind-related albums before the precipitous dip into cliché and pretension that would scar so much of their 1980s output -- the following year's P.X.R.5 would, of course, complete this final cycle of excellence. Opening with the death-defying breeziness of "Psi Power," passing on through the spacious pomp of "Free Fall" and the self-abusing autobiography of "25 Years" ("Have they really been going that long?" pleaded one U.K. review), the album also dipped into comedy ("Flying Doctor"), sci-fi ("[Only] The Dead Dreams of the Cold War Kid"), and bleeping futurism (the synth-joke "Automotion") -- the same formula, of course, that marked out its predecessors, but a slap in the face for anyone who still tried to accuse the bandmembers of taking their mission too seriously. Indeed, looking back, it seems obvious that it was the Hawks' reputation (however they tried to disguise their name) rather than their music that prevented both album and single from scoring major hits -- they were that in step with the then-current fascinations of the U.K. music scene.
When Hawkwind, fresh from the latest round of breakups and defections, reignited themselves as the Hawklords, few among even the grassroots faithful knew precisely what to expect. The main band's last album, Quark Strangeness and Charm, had drifted far from the miasmic space drone of the "classic" years, and a growing interest in electronics and quirk left the band teetering on the edge of new wave pop -- again, a long way from any sphere the group might normally have orbited. 25 Years On continued that reinvention and, in so doing, emerged as one of the last truly great Hawkwind-related albums before the precipitous dip into cliché and pretension that would scar so much of their 1980s output -- the following year's P.X.R.5 would, of course, complete this final cycle of excellence. Opening with the death-defying breeziness of "Psi Power," passing on through the spacious pomp of "Free Fall" and the self-abusing autobiography of "25 Years" ("Have they really been going that long?" pleaded one U.K. review), the album also dipped into comedy ("Flying Doctor"), sci-fi ("[Only] The Dead Dreams of the Cold War Kid"), and bleeping futurism (the synth-joke "Automotion") -- the same formula, of course, that marked out its predecessors, but a slap in the face for anyone who still tried to accuse the bandmembers of taking their mission too seriously. Indeed, looking back, it seems obvious that it was the Hawks' reputation (however they tried to disguise their name) rather than their music that prevented both album and single from scoring major hits -- they were that in step with the then-current fascinations of the U.K. music scene.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:00 (thirteen years ago)
Not heard this album
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:05 (thirteen years ago)
I got the double disc reissue a few years back, it's cool!
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:09 (thirteen years ago)
233. JOBRIATH Creatures Of The Street (1121 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #620 for 1974http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/919/MI0000919325.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6xX8Zrgh4BZ43rB7yUx05B
review[-] by Dave ThompsonA rock opera with real operatics. A concept album with whatever concept you care to lay on it. A romantic comedy. Jobriath's second long player spotlighted many of the same turns that made his debut so special -- guitarist Peter Frampton, producer Eddie Kramer, vocalist Peggy Nestor -- and reappraised many of the same lyrical icons and theatrical tricks as well. But if Jobriath caught our hero at least flirting with a rock & roll foundation, Creatures of the Street saw him writing soundtracks for every great movie that needed music to match, then mashing them together for the film that never was. We meet fallen stars and forgotten heroines, icicle icons and tragic auteurs and, if there's a hint of autobiography creeping into the frame, remember that Creatures was created on the back of a media denouement of almost unprecedented savagery. Last time out, Jobriath thought he had a chance and made an album that might sell. This time, he pulled down the shades and made the record he wanted. With just two exceptions, no song breaks the three-minute barrier, and most eschew the basics of pop hooks and choruses -- it's a difficult, and occasionally choppy, approach that renders the entire album an exercise in incidental music and ensures that the disorientation never lets up. Snatches of it are immortal -- the chorale "Dietrich/Fondyke" raises the curtain, the mandolin-folky "Scumbag" slobbers in the wings, the New York Dolls-y "Ooh La La" necks its neighbor in the back row. "Good Times" even looks back at Jobriath and pretends that the good times are still around the corner. But they're not, and the overall mood of Creatures is crushed and obstinate, saddening and saddened, the end of a dream that was too good to be true, too real to be a nightmare. Indeed, anybody approaching Jobriath for the first time would do well to place this album on a back burner somewhere, and get to grips with his debut first. Even dilettantism must sometimes be digestible.
A rock opera with real operatics. A concept album with whatever concept you care to lay on it. A romantic comedy. Jobriath's second long player spotlighted many of the same turns that made his debut so special -- guitarist Peter Frampton, producer Eddie Kramer, vocalist Peggy Nestor -- and reappraised many of the same lyrical icons and theatrical tricks as well. But if Jobriath caught our hero at least flirting with a rock & roll foundation, Creatures of the Street saw him writing soundtracks for every great movie that needed music to match, then mashing them together for the film that never was. We meet fallen stars and forgotten heroines, icicle icons and tragic auteurs and, if there's a hint of autobiography creeping into the frame, remember that Creatures was created on the back of a media denouement of almost unprecedented savagery. Last time out, Jobriath thought he had a chance and made an album that might sell. This time, he pulled down the shades and made the record he wanted. With just two exceptions, no song breaks the three-minute barrier, and most eschew the basics of pop hooks and choruses -- it's a difficult, and occasionally choppy, approach that renders the entire album an exercise in incidental music and ensures that the disorientation never lets up. Snatches of it are immortal -- the chorale "Dietrich/Fondyke" raises the curtain, the mandolin-folky "Scumbag" slobbers in the wings, the New York Dolls-y "Ooh La La" necks its neighbor in the back row. "Good Times" even looks back at Jobriath and pretends that the good times are still around the corner. But they're not, and the overall mood of Creatures is crushed and obstinate, saddening and saddened, the end of a dream that was too good to be true, too real to be a nightmare. Indeed, anybody approaching Jobriath for the first time would do well to place this album on a back burner somewhere, and get to grips with his debut first. Even dilettantism must sometimes be digestible.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:12 (thirteen years ago)
As I said in singles thread, he shoulda moved to Europe. America was not ready.
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:18 (thirteen years ago)
Wipers album def made the 80s poll which shd be immediate grounds for dq imo
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:19 (thirteen years ago)
AMG says this is 1980 therefore it should be disqualified
Was released in Burma in 1979, iirc.
― _Rudipherous_, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:22 (thirteen years ago)
i agree xp
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:23 (thirteen years ago)
232. LENE LOVICH Stateless (1141 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #199 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/606/MI0001606393.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/24PlMbnTh1uQiQA6Axy4QX
It took me half a year to get through my head what an original Lovich is. Women who know how to say when, while not unheard of in rock, tend to come on macho--tough mamas with hearts (and heads) as soft as Papa Hemingway's. But Lovich's goofy energy doesn't distract her from her feelings or damage her sex appeal or conceal a mawkish underside. And although it took an outsider to define her in a ditty ("Say When," which isn't on the import), Lovich does provide her own love song, which has integers in it. A- -- R. ChristgauStateless, her debut LP, sports a pair of great singles: "Lucky Number" and "Say When." But despite her distinctive chirp'n'yodel vocals, the keyboard-dominated arrangements and the blend of great old American pop-rock with spooky occult and Balkan overtones, she needed more consistent material. Better production also might have helped; the US version has a reshuffled song order, a different cover and a much-needed remix. -- Trouser Press
Stateless, her debut LP, sports a pair of great singles: "Lucky Number" and "Say When." But despite her distinctive chirp'n'yodel vocals, the keyboard-dominated arrangements and the blend of great old American pop-rock with spooky occult and Balkan overtones, she needed more consistent material. Better production also might have helped; the US version has a reshuffled song order, a different cover and a much-needed remix. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Amy HansonOne of Stiff Records' most stable staples, the truly alternative Lene Lovich laid much of the groundwork for an entire generation of singers left to pick up the pieces in the wasteland of the post-punk era. Her stunning debut, 1979's Stateless, was so unique, so vibrant, and her vocal stylings so unusual that the LP not only put her right at the front of the pack of nascent new wavers, it also sounded a commercial death knell of sorts, relegating her to the realms of novelty acts -- at least as far as the mainstream was concerned. But that's not to say that the mainstream wasn't keeping an ear cocked. Re-recorded from the demo that landed her a deal in the first place, a unique rendering of the bubblegum puff piece "I Think We're Alone Now" provided such propulsion that its B-side, the now-classic "Lucky Number," was itself then re-recorded, to land Lovich a Number Three U.K. hit in early 1979. Elsewhere, the darkly sinister "Home" played off the rumors concerning Lovich's exotic Eastern European background (she was actually from Detroit, but she could fake a great accent). The piano-led Patti Smith-y "Too Tender (Too Touch)" allowed Lovich to explore a quieter corner, as did a sexy, sensuous rehash of fellow Stiff-er Nick Lowe's "Tonight." The rambunctious squeak of "Say When," on the other hand, not only tempered that mood but also scored Lovich another hit. While Stateless is certainly very much of its era, and well-placed in its time, inspired and adventurous songwriting coupled with a truly pioneering intent ensure that this LP will always remain the lit roadside marker that whispered "this way" to the hundreds of bands who followed.
One of Stiff Records' most stable staples, the truly alternative Lene Lovich laid much of the groundwork for an entire generation of singers left to pick up the pieces in the wasteland of the post-punk era. Her stunning debut, 1979's Stateless, was so unique, so vibrant, and her vocal stylings so unusual that the LP not only put her right at the front of the pack of nascent new wavers, it also sounded a commercial death knell of sorts, relegating her to the realms of novelty acts -- at least as far as the mainstream was concerned. But that's not to say that the mainstream wasn't keeping an ear cocked. Re-recorded from the demo that landed her a deal in the first place, a unique rendering of the bubblegum puff piece "I Think We're Alone Now" provided such propulsion that its B-side, the now-classic "Lucky Number," was itself then re-recorded, to land Lovich a Number Three U.K. hit in early 1979. Elsewhere, the darkly sinister "Home" played off the rumors concerning Lovich's exotic Eastern European background (she was actually from Detroit, but she could fake a great accent). The piano-led Patti Smith-y "Too Tender (Too Touch)" allowed Lovich to explore a quieter corner, as did a sexy, sensuous rehash of fellow Stiff-er Nick Lowe's "Tonight." The rambunctious squeak of "Say When," on the other hand, not only tempered that mood but also scored Lovich another hit. While Stateless is certainly very much of its era, and well-placed in its time, inspired and adventurous songwriting coupled with a truly pioneering intent ensure that this LP will always remain the lit roadside marker that whispered "this way" to the hundreds of bands who followed.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:23 (thirteen years ago)
dq it from the 80s poll xp
231. QUEEN Queen II (1145 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #99 for 1974 , #3597 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/201/MI0003201089.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0YpxBancYcVg9aLnZerBQg
Wimpoid royaloid heavoid android void. C- -- R. ChristgauQueen is a reasonably talented band who have chosen their models unwisely. On "Side Black," they venture into a lyrically muddled fairy-tale world with none of Genesis's wit or sophistication. They've also appropriated the most irritating elements of Yes's style — histrionic vocals, abrupt and pointless compositional complexity, and a dearth of melody. "Side White" is quite an improvement, containing many of the same muddled tendencies, but with the saving grace of timely and well-chosen power chords and some rather pretty tunes. But the album remains a floundering and sadly unoriginal affair. -- Ken Barnes, RS
Queen is a reasonably talented band who have chosen their models unwisely. On "Side Black," they venture into a lyrically muddled fairy-tale world with none of Genesis's wit or sophistication. They've also appropriated the most irritating elements of Yes's style — histrionic vocals, abrupt and pointless compositional complexity, and a dearth of melody. "Side White" is quite an improvement, containing many of the same muddled tendencies, but with the saving grace of timely and well-chosen power chords and some rather pretty tunes. But the album remains a floundering and sadly unoriginal affair. -- Ken Barnes, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineIn one regard, Queen II does indeed provide more of the same thing as on the band's debut. Certainly, of all the other albums in Queen's catalog it bears the closest resemblance to its immediate predecessor, particularly in its lean, hard attack and in how it has only one song that is well-known to listeners outside of their hardcore cult: in this case, it's "Seven Seas of Rhye," which is itself more elliptical than "Keep Yourself Alive," the big song from the debut. But these similarities are superficial and Queen II is a very different beast than its predecessor, an album that is richer, darker, and weirder, an album that finds Queen growing as a band by leaps and bounds. There is still a surplus of ideas, but their energies are better focused this time around, channeled into a over-inflated, pompous rock that could be called prog if it wasn't so heavy. Even with all the queens and ogres that populate Queen II, this never feels as fantastical as Genesis or Uriah Heep, and that's because Queen hits hard as a rock band here, where even the blasts of vocal harmonies feel like power chords, no matter how florid they are. Besides, these grandiose harmonies, along with the handful of wistful ballads here, are overshadowed by the onslaught of guitars and pummeling rhythms that give Queen II majesty and menace. Queen is coiled, tense, and vicious here, delivering on their inherent sense of drama, and that gives Queen II real power as music, as well as a true cohesion. The one thing that is missing is any semblance of a pop sensibility, even when they flirt with a mock Phil Spector production on "Funny How Love Is." This hits like heavy metal but has an art-rock sensibility through and through, which also means that it has no true hook in for those who don't want to succumb to Queen's world. But that kind of insular drama is quite alluring in its own right, which is why Queen II is one of the favorites of their hardcore fans. At the very least, it illustrates that Queen is starting to pull all their ambitions and influences into a signature sound, and it's quite powerful in that regard.
In one regard, Queen II does indeed provide more of the same thing as on the band's debut. Certainly, of all the other albums in Queen's catalog it bears the closest resemblance to its immediate predecessor, particularly in its lean, hard attack and in how it has only one song that is well-known to listeners outside of their hardcore cult: in this case, it's "Seven Seas of Rhye," which is itself more elliptical than "Keep Yourself Alive," the big song from the debut. But these similarities are superficial and Queen II is a very different beast than its predecessor, an album that is richer, darker, and weirder, an album that finds Queen growing as a band by leaps and bounds. There is still a surplus of ideas, but their energies are better focused this time around, channeled into a over-inflated, pompous rock that could be called prog if it wasn't so heavy. Even with all the queens and ogres that populate Queen II, this never feels as fantastical as Genesis or Uriah Heep, and that's because Queen hits hard as a rock band here, where even the blasts of vocal harmonies feel like power chords, no matter how florid they are. Besides, these grandiose harmonies, along with the handful of wistful ballads here, are overshadowed by the onslaught of guitars and pummeling rhythms that give Queen II majesty and menace. Queen is coiled, tense, and vicious here, delivering on their inherent sense of drama, and that gives Queen II real power as music, as well as a true cohesion. The one thing that is missing is any semblance of a pop sensibility, even when they flirt with a mock Phil Spector production on "Funny How Love Is." This hits like heavy metal but has an art-rock sensibility through and through, which also means that it has no true hook in for those who don't want to succumb to Queen's world. But that kind of insular drama is quite alluring in its own right, which is why Queen II is one of the favorites of their hardcore fans. At the very least, it illustrates that Queen is starting to pull all their ambitions and influences into a signature sound, and it's quite powerful in that regard.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:34 (thirteen years ago)
230. GRAHAM CENTRAL STATION Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It (1147 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #658 for 1975http://open.spotify.com/album/7xHq4qDuNb0ZrV3Vgeujlehttp://open.spotify.com/album/7xHq4qDuNb0ZrV3Vgeujle
review[-] by Donald A. GuariscoOn their third album, Graham Central Station created an album full of trademark infectious pop-soul grooves, but one that lacked the consistently strong work that defines a true classic. However, that doesn't mean that Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It is less than listenable: in fact, it contains some of the group's finest songs. The album's all-time funk classic is the opening track "The Jam," a "Dance to the Music"-styled funk workout that intersperses a dazzling group groove with individual solos for each player. "Water" is another strong funk tune, an insistently rhythmic song that blends thump-popping basslines with backwards tape loops to create an intriguing blend of funk and psychedelia. Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It also produced a number one R&B smash in "Your Love," which marries the group's talent for funky grooves to an old-fashioned love song with a melody that harkens back to doo wop. However, not everything on Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It is as strong as these highlights: "It Ain't Nothing but a Warner Bros. Party" is a lightweight jam with throwaway lyrics, and the group's rote version of the Ann Peebles classic "I Can't Stand the Rain" fails to add anything memorable to the song. All in all, Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It lacks the strong material to make it memorable, but its high points make it a worthwhile listen for funk enthusiasts.
On their third album, Graham Central Station created an album full of trademark infectious pop-soul grooves, but one that lacked the consistently strong work that defines a true classic. However, that doesn't mean that Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It is less than listenable: in fact, it contains some of the group's finest songs. The album's all-time funk classic is the opening track "The Jam," a "Dance to the Music"-styled funk workout that intersperses a dazzling group groove with individual solos for each player. "Water" is another strong funk tune, an insistently rhythmic song that blends thump-popping basslines with backwards tape loops to create an intriguing blend of funk and psychedelia. Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It also produced a number one R&B smash in "Your Love," which marries the group's talent for funky grooves to an old-fashioned love song with a melody that harkens back to doo wop. However, not everything on Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It is as strong as these highlights: "It Ain't Nothing but a Warner Bros. Party" is a lightweight jam with throwaway lyrics, and the group's rote version of the Ann Peebles classic "I Can't Stand the Rain" fails to add anything memorable to the song. All in all, Ain't No 'Bout-A-Doubt It lacks the strong material to make it memorable, but its high points make it a worthwhile listen for funk enthusiasts.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:40 (thirteen years ago)
My fave GCS album
sadly a few of their albums just missed the 501 so please go check em out
http://open.spotify.com/artist/1OGcRXAY9iO4egWiIBqX8F andhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5DldGiP8hbKtAjGzzcdYEq
their albums are under a bunch of names on spotify but those 2 links will take you to the essential albums
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:44 (thirteen years ago)
228. MOTORHEAD Motorhead (1149 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #323 for 1977http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_250/MI0002/537/MI0002537118.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4FtDA9DU28D7cn1E1TmB3v
Falling into a collapsed dogpile of a metal band so unkempt that it was punks that thought they were the ones being serenaded, wizened rock pigs Fast Eddie Clarke, Philthy Animal Taylor and the warted wizard Ian "Lemmy" Kilmister converged upon a world unprepared forthe brutish bashing to come. Motorhead were big, bad and loud, reorded rank and putrid as they slogged their way through shabby pounder after shabby pounder, here sent to make a single, the boys emerged a whole lot sweatier with a whole lot more. And Motorhead, the bonafide studio debut would stand, now years down the road, as the most viral, belligerant and hapless Motorhead record of them all, the band of brawling brothers creating a caterwauling yet unified, headache-inducing distorted drone through all eight scrapyard anthems enclosed. Ergo Motorhead were instantly recognizable as the first metal band who weren't trying to look good, play good or record good, which resulted in the ultimate deception of the punks who were unwittingly embracing the most fossilized of hippies. Critics, who generally despised the tents of metal, were also sucked in, to this day, Motorhead's goodly name being tossed around by those scribes who yearn to show that they walk on the wild side. The record had tons of songs, loaded for bear, that would become crowd favourites...Above dissection or dissertation, Motorhead stands pretty much specifically as the key influence on those who would create purposefully polluted metal (next up, Venom), the band embodying faint (never! ) echoes of the Stooges, but really occupying a space as the original grunge rockers, being the first who could actually play, but rather chose to stink up the place. A crass act all the way. 9/7 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Alex OggBefore forming Motörhead, Ian Kilmister (aka Lemmy) could boast of having been a member of space rock cowboys Hawkwind and a career in horsebreaking (that's horsebreaking, not housebreaking). He was also, to top it all, the son of a vicar. Having been expelled from his former employers after a disagreement with border guards over the contents of his luggage, he took the name for his new band from the final song he'd written for Hawkwind. Together with Larry Wallis of the Pink Fairies and drummer Philthy Animal Taylor, Motörhead recorded a debut album that was rejected by United Artists (you can just imagine the face of the poor guy who got the short straw and had to tell Lemmy), though it was eventually released as On Parole in 1979. As a result, the group expanded with the addition of "Fast" Eddie Clarke on guitar. Wallis then left after just one rehearsal, leaving the classic Motörhead lineup in shape for their debut proper. Rock & roll had never heard the like. Though only a minor chart success, Motörhead patented the group's style: Lemmy's rasping vocal over a speeding juggernaut of guitar, bass, and drums. The lyrical theme was "Don't mess with us" instead of "Don't mess with our hair." Before this, hard rock was about musicianship and exhibitionism. Motörhead, conversely, returned mainstream rock to its most brutal base elements -- no wonder the punks liked them.
Before forming Motörhead, Ian Kilmister (aka Lemmy) could boast of having been a member of space rock cowboys Hawkwind and a career in horsebreaking (that's horsebreaking, not housebreaking). He was also, to top it all, the son of a vicar. Having been expelled from his former employers after a disagreement with border guards over the contents of his luggage, he took the name for his new band from the final song he'd written for Hawkwind. Together with Larry Wallis of the Pink Fairies and drummer Philthy Animal Taylor, Motörhead recorded a debut album that was rejected by United Artists (you can just imagine the face of the poor guy who got the short straw and had to tell Lemmy), though it was eventually released as On Parole in 1979. As a result, the group expanded with the addition of "Fast" Eddie Clarke on guitar. Wallis then left after just one rehearsal, leaving the classic Motörhead lineup in shape for their debut proper. Rock & roll had never heard the like. Though only a minor chart success, Motörhead patented the group's style: Lemmy's rasping vocal over a speeding juggernaut of guitar, bass, and drums. The lyrical theme was "Don't mess with us" instead of "Don't mess with our hair." Before this, hard rock was about musicianship and exhibitionism. Motörhead, conversely, returned mainstream rock to its most brutal base elements -- no wonder the punks liked them.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 17:57 (thirteen years ago)
228. GONG Camembert Electrique (1149 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #85 for 1971 , #2090 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/808/MI0001808354.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
1973 was a strange year.Flailing at school, I spent my time learning guitar licks from Bowie records, reading existentialist novels and getting spaced out listening to Gong, the stoned freak collective formed by Aussie Daevid Allen after he quit Soft Machine in 1967.I picked up their psych-out masterpiece Camembert Electrique for 49 pence as a "loss-leader" during the newly established Virgin Records' introductory promo campaign.Camembert Electrique was the first prog-psychedelic album that grabbed me. Its heavy space rock, free form jazz, electronic experimentation and wig-out hippy humor was like nothing I'd heard.But the main reason this LP captivated my adolescent brain was that my parents despised it in exactly inverse proportion to my newfound exhilaration.As I cranked Camembert on my Fidelity music center, the cacophonous closing jam Fohat Digs Holes in Space - suggesting an orgasmic cosmic orgy - was greeted with screams of execration by my father. He especially hated Gilli Smyth's wordless "space whispering" - actually a piercing screech that could crack a lava lamp at ten paces.His pleas for me to remove the offending platter from the turntable merely increased my desire to spin it with increasing volume and regularity.If you could get past the caterwauling, Fohat Digs Holes in Space had an ambient, trancelike feel which was way ahead of its time. History shows that Gong were precursors of the fire-twirlers and dayglo armband brigade who typified the proto-ravers of the 1990s. Members of the band later went on to form System 7, Eat Static and other key techno outfits.Another classic Allen track, and about as close to a ballad as Gong get, And You Tried So Hard, features a splendid lyric which proclaims:A hand flutters in my brainSilken cords trembling into the waterfallWhere the wise brown frogGives princely advice.If you're the skeptical type, maybe you got a problem with wise brown frogs dispensing princely advice, or titles like Squeezing Sponges Over Policemen's Heads. Or how about Wet Cheese Delirium, the track which closes Side One and features backwards tapes and a stoned French hippy droning the priceless incantation, "Tu Veux Camembert? Tu Veux Camembert?"But if you think that's weird, Camembert Electrique marks the birth of founder Daevid Allen's tongue-in-cheek Planet Gong mythology - the subject of the band's subsequent three albums. It describes a utopian interplanetary psychic communication between we Earthlings and - ahem - the "pothead pixies" from the distant planet Gong.Unsurprisingly, the Gong mythology makes a lot more sense if you happen to be stoned senseless. Gong songs are about a kind of cosmic freedom, I guess, even if it is the freedom to discover your inner pixie, eat cheese and marmalize your brain with "tea" and "mushrooms".Gong were never anything like fashionable, and by the time the New Wave had struck, unmendable cracks had fractured the prog-rock facade. The days of hallucinating freedom were over, to be replaced by life-changing, punky revelations.To be sure, no one loved getting high more than my punky friends, but it had become demonstrably old hat - and fatally uncool - to admit a predilection for such hippy-dippy nonsense.Moving on to edgier frontiers, I never bought another Gong LP, and when their Floating Anarchy Tour visited my town's 77 Club during the summer of punk fury, I wisely kept my own cheesy counsel.Oh yes, I had been a fan. But when my friends barked "Fuck off, hippies!" at the patchouli pixies proudly prancing on stage, I - sheeplike in my treachery - unashamedly joined in with their chorus of derision. -- Shiffi Le Soy, Head Heritage
Flailing at school, I spent my time learning guitar licks from Bowie records, reading existentialist novels and getting spaced out listening to Gong, the stoned freak collective formed by Aussie Daevid Allen after he quit Soft Machine in 1967.
I picked up their psych-out masterpiece Camembert Electrique for 49 pence as a "loss-leader" during the newly established Virgin Records' introductory promo campaign.
Camembert Electrique was the first prog-psychedelic album that grabbed me. Its heavy space rock, free form jazz, electronic experimentation and wig-out hippy humor was like nothing I'd heard.
But the main reason this LP captivated my adolescent brain was that my parents despised it in exactly inverse proportion to my newfound exhilaration.
As I cranked Camembert on my Fidelity music center, the cacophonous closing jam Fohat Digs Holes in Space - suggesting an orgasmic cosmic orgy - was greeted with screams of execration by my father. He especially hated Gilli Smyth's wordless "space whispering" - actually a piercing screech that could crack a lava lamp at ten paces.
His pleas for me to remove the offending platter from the turntable merely increased my desire to spin it with increasing volume and regularity.
If you could get past the caterwauling, Fohat Digs Holes in Space had an ambient, trancelike feel which was way ahead of its time. History shows that Gong were precursors of the fire-twirlers and dayglo armband brigade who typified the proto-ravers of the 1990s. Members of the band later went on to form System 7, Eat Static and other key techno outfits.
Another classic Allen track, and about as close to a ballad as Gong get, And You Tried So Hard, features a splendid lyric which proclaims:
A hand flutters in my brainSilken cords trembling into the waterfallWhere the wise brown frogGives princely advice.
If you're the skeptical type, maybe you got a problem with wise brown frogs dispensing princely advice, or titles like Squeezing Sponges Over Policemen's Heads. Or how about Wet Cheese Delirium, the track which closes Side One and features backwards tapes and a stoned French hippy droning the priceless incantation, "Tu Veux Camembert? Tu Veux Camembert?"
But if you think that's weird, Camembert Electrique marks the birth of founder Daevid Allen's tongue-in-cheek Planet Gong mythology - the subject of the band's subsequent three albums. It describes a utopian interplanetary psychic communication between we Earthlings and - ahem - the "pothead pixies" from the distant planet Gong.
Unsurprisingly, the Gong mythology makes a lot more sense if you happen to be stoned senseless. Gong songs are about a kind of cosmic freedom, I guess, even if it is the freedom to discover your inner pixie, eat cheese and marmalize your brain with "tea" and "mushrooms".
Gong were never anything like fashionable, and by the time the New Wave had struck, unmendable cracks had fractured the prog-rock facade. The days of hallucinating freedom were over, to be replaced by life-changing, punky revelations.
To be sure, no one loved getting high more than my punky friends, but it had become demonstrably old hat - and fatally uncool - to admit a predilection for such hippy-dippy nonsense.
Moving on to edgier frontiers, I never bought another Gong LP, and when their Floating Anarchy Tour visited my town's 77 Club during the summer of punk fury, I wisely kept my own cheesy counsel.
Oh yes, I had been a fan. But when my friends barked "Fuck off, hippies!" at the patchouli pixies proudly prancing on stage, I - sheeplike in my treachery - unashamedly joined in with their chorus of derision. -- Shiffi Le Soy, Head Heritage
review[-] by David Ross SmithThis is a classic, the epitome of the band's early Daevid Allen phase with Ph.P.'s (pothead pixies) in full, blazing glory. In its infancy, Gong was a unique prog rock band that branched out in all directions at once while most other prog bands chose simply one path or another. Camembert Electrique is a testament to that. The band's eclectic "electric cheese" rock is a mixture of psychedelic rock, spacy atmospherics and lyrics, and doses of jazz often presented with a pop sensibility, yet always intense. From the first cut on Camembert, you are transported to planet Gong via the voice of a "radio gnome" who drops in intermittently to remind you you're not in Kansas anymore. Daevid Allen leads the band through several compositions musically (not lyrically) reminiscent of, and possibly influenced by, early King Crimson -- a hard, raw-edged sound propelled by a strong guitar-sax-percussion combo. Drummer Pip Pyle played on only a few Gong sessions; he is a major figure here, as is saxophonist D+6idier Malherbe. Both are up front on the wailing progressive rocker "You Can't Kill Me," which also features guitarist Allen in top form. Allen's declarative "I've Bin Stone Before," the first part of an inventive three-song medley, is of particular interest; introductory church organ and avant-garde sax make this another unique Gong experience. But the real gem on Camembert is "Tropical Fish: Selene." This jazzy composition is the most involving and intricate piece on the recording. The band moves tightly through several progressive movements and Gilli Smyth scores with her trademark "space whispering." Camembert Electrique remains undated after almost 30 years and hovers "strong and steamin'" over most of the Gong catalog.
This is a classic, the epitome of the band's early Daevid Allen phase with Ph.P.'s (pothead pixies) in full, blazing glory. In its infancy, Gong was a unique prog rock band that branched out in all directions at once while most other prog bands chose simply one path or another. Camembert Electrique is a testament to that. The band's eclectic "electric cheese" rock is a mixture of psychedelic rock, spacy atmospherics and lyrics, and doses of jazz often presented with a pop sensibility, yet always intense. From the first cut on Camembert, you are transported to planet Gong via the voice of a "radio gnome" who drops in intermittently to remind you you're not in Kansas anymore. Daevid Allen leads the band through several compositions musically (not lyrically) reminiscent of, and possibly influenced by, early King Crimson -- a hard, raw-edged sound propelled by a strong guitar-sax-percussion combo. Drummer Pip Pyle played on only a few Gong sessions; he is a major figure here, as is saxophonist D+6idier Malherbe. Both are up front on the wailing progressive rocker "You Can't Kill Me," which also features guitarist Allen in top form. Allen's declarative "I've Bin Stone Before," the first part of an inventive three-song medley, is of particular interest; introductory church organ and avant-garde sax make this another unique Gong experience. But the real gem on Camembert is "Tropical Fish: Selene." This jazzy composition is the most involving and intricate piece on the recording. The band moves tightly through several progressive movements and Gilli Smyth scores with her trademark "space whispering." Camembert Electrique remains undated after almost 30 years and hovers "strong and steamin'" over most of the Gong catalog.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:10 (thirteen years ago)
227. BOSTON Boston (1156 Points, 9 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #37 for 1976 , #2036 overall | Acclaimed: #616http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/860/MI0001860713.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/01OahkTPRCleDjobtRk7ST
When informed that someone has achieved an American synthesis of Led Zeppelin and Yes, all I can do is hold my ears and say gosh. C -- R. Christgau
reviewby Vik IyengarBoston is one of the best-selling albums of all time, and deservedly so. Because of the rise of disco and punk, FM rock radio seemed all but dead until the rise of acts like Boston, Tom Petty, and Bruce Springsteen. Nearly every song on Boston's debut album could still be heard on classic rock radio decades later due to the strong vocals of Brad Delp and unique guitar sound of Tom Scholz. Tom Scholz, who wrote most of the songs, was a studio wizard and used self-designed equipment such as 12-track recording devices to come up with an anthemic "arena rock" sound before the term was even coined. The sound was hard rock, but the layered melodies and harmonics reveal the work of a master craftsman. While much has been written about the sound of the album, the lyrics are often overlooked. There are songs about their rise from a bar band ("Rock and Roll Band") as well as fond remembrances of summers gone by ("More Than a Feeling"). Boston is essential for any fan of classic rock, and the album marks the re-emergence of the genre in the 1970s.
Boston is one of the best-selling albums of all time, and deservedly so. Because of the rise of disco and punk, FM rock radio seemed all but dead until the rise of acts like Boston, Tom Petty, and Bruce Springsteen. Nearly every song on Boston's debut album could still be heard on classic rock radio decades later due to the strong vocals of Brad Delp and unique guitar sound of Tom Scholz. Tom Scholz, who wrote most of the songs, was a studio wizard and used self-designed equipment such as 12-track recording devices to come up with an anthemic "arena rock" sound before the term was even coined. The sound was hard rock, but the layered melodies and harmonics reveal the work of a master craftsman. While much has been written about the sound of the album, the lyrics are often overlooked. There are songs about their rise from a bar band ("Rock and Roll Band") as well as fond remembrances of summers gone by ("More Than a Feeling"). Boston is essential for any fan of classic rock, and the album marks the re-emergence of the genre in the 1970s.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:20 (thirteen years ago)
Wasn't that track written by Christian Tritsch? And the lyrics quoted are surely by Gilly Smyth?
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:22 (thirteen years ago)
an American synthesis of Led Zeppelin and Yes
wow, he's incredibly off the mark here
― Moodles, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:24 (thirteen years ago)
226. THE FALL Live at the Witch Trials (1160 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #46 for 1979 , #2293 overall | Acclaimed: #2142http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/972/MI0001972668.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7xHW0BPN1U7RUAnPkeqZZV
After dismissing this as just too tuneless and crude--wasn't even fast--I played it in tandem with Public Image Ltd. one night and for a few bars could hardly tell the difference. Of course, in this case the heavy bass and distant guitars could simply mean a bad mix, but what the hell--when they praise spastics and "the r&r dream" they're not being sarcastic (I don't think), and in this icky pop moment we could use some ugly rebellion. How about calling it punk? B+ -- R. ChristgauAfter releasing some singles and contributing two tracks to the watershed Manchester compilation Short Circuit / Live at the Electric Circus, the Fall recorded and mixed a debut LP, Live at the Witch Trials, in an economical two-day studio session with producer Bob Sargeant, who did nothing (audible) to soften the band's well-organized dissonance. At once leaning towards punk's directness and charging headlong into poetic pretension, Smith and company (bass, drums, electric piano, guitar) drip sincerity on tracks like "Rebellious Jukebox" and "Crap Rap 2/Like to Blow," occasionally sounding relatively normal amidst the tempest. -- Trouser Press
After releasing some singles and contributing two tracks to the watershed Manchester compilation Short Circuit / Live at the Electric Circus, the Fall recorded and mixed a debut LP, Live at the Witch Trials, in an economical two-day studio session with producer Bob Sargeant, who did nothing (audible) to soften the band's well-organized dissonance. At once leaning towards punk's directness and charging headlong into poetic pretension, Smith and company (bass, drums, electric piano, guitar) drip sincerity on tracks like "Rebellious Jukebox" and "Crap Rap 2/Like to Blow," occasionally sounding relatively normal amidst the tempest. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Ned RaggettThat the first Fall album in a near endless stream would not only not sound very punk at all but would be a downright pleasant listen at the start (thanks to Yvonne Pawlett's electric piano on "Frightened") seems perfectly in keeping with Smith's endlessly contrary mind. His inimitable drawl/moan and general vision of the universe (idiots are everywhere and idiotic things are rampant) similarly sprawls all over the music -- there's no question who this is or whose band it is as well. That said, most of Live at the Witch Trials is co-written with Martin Bramah, whose guitar work here is noticeably much more inclined to chime and ring instead of brutally scratching away like Craig Scanlon's awesome work would soon do. Bramah's not just there to sound tuneful, though, and the killer Marc Riley/Karl Burns rhythm section both keeps up the energy and provides surprising grooves. On chugging tracks like "Two Steps Back," it's not hard to tell Smith's Krautrock fandom is coming into play. With Pawlett's keyboards providing a pretty garage kick on top of it all, the result is an all-around treat. Brilliantly scabrous tracks are everywhere, one of the most memorable being "Rebellious Jukebox," simultaneously one of the most tuneful and aggressive songs from the early lineup, Smith pouring it on along with the band as a whole. The driving funk of "Music Scene," meanwhile, redefines misanthropy (and more) with a particularly central Smith target in mind. "No Xmas for John Quays," meanwhile, almost establishes the Fall formula on its own -- Smith chanting and yelling over a quick, semi-rockabilly shamble and attack punctuated with unexpected stops and starts. Note -- the Cog Sinister CD re-release of the album, in keeping with similar perverse reissues in the Fall's back catalog, is mastered directly from vinyl, and more than once sounds it.
That the first Fall album in a near endless stream would not only not sound very punk at all but would be a downright pleasant listen at the start (thanks to Yvonne Pawlett's electric piano on "Frightened") seems perfectly in keeping with Smith's endlessly contrary mind. His inimitable drawl/moan and general vision of the universe (idiots are everywhere and idiotic things are rampant) similarly sprawls all over the music -- there's no question who this is or whose band it is as well. That said, most of Live at the Witch Trials is co-written with Martin Bramah, whose guitar work here is noticeably much more inclined to chime and ring instead of brutally scratching away like Craig Scanlon's awesome work would soon do. Bramah's not just there to sound tuneful, though, and the killer Marc Riley/Karl Burns rhythm section both keeps up the energy and provides surprising grooves. On chugging tracks like "Two Steps Back," it's not hard to tell Smith's Krautrock fandom is coming into play. With Pawlett's keyboards providing a pretty garage kick on top of it all, the result is an all-around treat. Brilliantly scabrous tracks are everywhere, one of the most memorable being "Rebellious Jukebox," simultaneously one of the most tuneful and aggressive songs from the early lineup, Smith pouring it on along with the band as a whole. The driving funk of "Music Scene," meanwhile, redefines misanthropy (and more) with a particularly central Smith target in mind. "No Xmas for John Quays," meanwhile, almost establishes the Fall formula on its own -- Smith chanting and yelling over a quick, semi-rockabilly shamble and attack punctuated with unexpected stops and starts. Note -- the Cog Sinister CD re-release of the album, in keeping with similar perverse reissues in the Fall's back catalog, is mastered directly from vinyl, and more than once sounds it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:30 (thirteen years ago)
Another classic Allen track, and about as close to a ballad as Gong get, And You Tried So Hard, features a splendid lyric which proclaims:A hand flutters in my brainSilken cords trembling into the waterfallWhere the wise brown frogGives princely advice.Wasn't that track written by Christian Tritsch? And the lyrics quoted are surely by Gilly Smyth?― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.),
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.),
No idea, hippy!
an American synthesis of Led Zeppelin and Yeswow, he's incredibly off the mark here― Moodles,
― Moodles,
Isn't he always?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:31 (thirteen years ago)
I think he often is extremely accurate in his description while missing the point entirely. It's rarer to see him make a comparison that's just wildly off base.
― Moodles, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:32 (thirteen years ago)
The irony being he gets the next one spot on
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:39 (thirteen years ago)
225. MUTINY Mutiny On The Mamaship (1164 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #567 for 1979http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_fny5P4ZbK8/TiA-uzSN9XI/AAAAAAAAAYo/knm_ZJqOXyw/s1600/hfsss.JPG
In which former P-Funk drummer Jerome Brailey--a/k/a Him Bad, Bigfoot--leads a noisy revolt against "George Penatentiory," who stands accused of faking the funk. The charge isn't fair, but Brailey proves he's no clone (and earns his sobriquets) with a boomingly bottom-heavy LP that's more lowdown powerful than anything the muthashippas have ever tried to do. And if his lovey-dovey moves are received--unlike George, Brailey never led a great harmony group--his horn and guitar parts are far out indeed. Hope there's an answer record. A- -- R. Christgau
Track Listing:Go Away From Here {Jerome Brailey, Lenny Holmes, Raymond Carter, Robert Mittleman} 4:11What More Can I Say {J Brailey, Skitch Lovett} 4:38Lump {J Brailey, R Carter} 4:36Funk 'N' Bop {J Brailey, L Holmes} 4:19Burning Up {J Brailey, L Holmes, R Carter, R Mittleman} 4:08Voyage To The Bottom of the "P" {J Brailey, L Holmes, R Carter} 4:02Everytime You Come Around {J Brailey, L Holmes, R Carter} 3:57Romeo (Hope You're Feeling Better) {J Brailey} 5:08Personnel: Producer, Arranger: Jerome Brailey Executive Producer: Robert MittlemanVocals: Jerome Brailey, Lenny Holmes, Skitch Lovett, Raymond "Bro" CarterDrums, Percussion, Syndrums: Jerome "Him Bad" BraileyLead Guitar: Lenny HolmesGuitar: Skitch LovettBass Guitar, Smiles: Raymond "Bro" CarterAll Keyboards, Semi-Vocals: Nat LeeHorns: "Major" Darryl Dixon, Marvin Daniels, Melvin ElRating: RC: ****Comment:RC: This was the first album from the Jerome Brailey-led group. The name of the band was a reaction how Brailey perceived the George Clinton-run P.Funk camp, and he slams him throughout the album. He had hoped to recruit more members from P.Funk for this album (especially Bernie Worrell, who had less and less input at that time), but the only former player he got was sax man Darryl Dixon. Despite that, Jerome and Co. produced three excellent funk albums. His rock influence is apparent here, with the album having a heavy sound. But he also understands the use of the 'one', with the dance songs being super funky in the mold of Bootsy. The album's only weakness is lyrical, but there are enough interesting concepts to hold up the album. But the lyrics aren't the focus here, the excellent music is. Any fan of Jerome (who was onboard the P.Funk train from 1975-77, producing many classics, including his signature "Give Up The Funk") or super heavy funk in general should seek out these albums. The most remarkable thing about this album is how good Jerome Brailey's vocals are and how funky his arrangements. Despite the barrage of insults, Clinton said in later years that he would have been happy to have this album on his own Uncle Jam label!"Go Away From Here" is a mid-tempo song that is immediately noticable for its funky bass and distorted vocals. There's a nice dramatic buildup with the addition of a clever horn arrangement and a muted but wailing guitar. The song talks about faking the funk and such. "What More Can I Say" is another mid-tempo song in much the same mold, with the same muted guitar, great singing and another excellent horn arrangement. "Lump" is a hot dance-funk song. Jerome uses his funny, higher-pitched voice to dis Clinton ('Lump, lump can you cut the funk?' and 'Thinking you did something, realizing you ain't done a lot') and the Brides in a humorous fashion. The great slap bass keeps things moving. "Funk N Bop" is another fast funker, also amusing in the same vein. This one has a lot of great lyrical hooks, like 'The longer the stroke, the deeper the fill' and 'Sworn to fun, loyal to none'. The band absolutely locks in on this one, it's just a rock-hard funker. "Burning Up" is a mid-tempo funk ballad with more good vocal arrangements. "Voyage To..." is a more guitar-oriented song with whispered lyrics and crisp drumming. "Everytime You..." is a straightforward ballad with a strong guitar presence that highlights Jerome's singing. "Romeo" is a weird mid-tempo song with a funny chant and a more subdued lead vocal. The synth is the focus here, creating a strange tension. The beat is steady and holds the whole thing together.This album is out of print and somewhat rare, but it's available as an import from P-Vine. The cover shows Jerome on a beach, dressed as a pirate, recovering a treasure chest. An inside sleeve illustration has Jerome making Clinton (whom he calls 'Lump') walk the plank. The whole thing is pretty funny. Ace Records also apparently plans to reissue this album soon as well.http://people.duke.edu/~tmc/motherpage/albums_spinoffs/alb-mutiny_mamaship.html
Go Away From Here {Jerome Brailey, Lenny Holmes, Raymond Carter, Robert Mittleman} 4:11What More Can I Say {J Brailey, Skitch Lovett} 4:38Lump {J Brailey, R Carter} 4:36Funk 'N' Bop {J Brailey, L Holmes} 4:19Burning Up {J Brailey, L Holmes, R Carter, R Mittleman} 4:08Voyage To The Bottom of the "P" {J Brailey, L Holmes, R Carter} 4:02Everytime You Come Around {J Brailey, L Holmes, R Carter} 3:57Romeo (Hope You're Feeling Better) {J Brailey} 5:08
Personnel: Producer, Arranger: Jerome Brailey Executive Producer: Robert MittlemanVocals: Jerome Brailey, Lenny Holmes, Skitch Lovett, Raymond "Bro" CarterDrums, Percussion, Syndrums: Jerome "Him Bad" BraileyLead Guitar: Lenny HolmesGuitar: Skitch LovettBass Guitar, Smiles: Raymond "Bro" CarterAll Keyboards, Semi-Vocals: Nat LeeHorns: "Major" Darryl Dixon, Marvin Daniels, Melvin El
Rating: RC: ****
Comment:
RC: This was the first album from the Jerome Brailey-led group. The name of the band was a reaction how Brailey perceived the George Clinton-run P.Funk camp, and he slams him throughout the album. He had hoped to recruit more members from P.Funk for this album (especially Bernie Worrell, who had less and less input at that time), but the only former player he got was sax man Darryl Dixon. Despite that, Jerome and Co. produced three excellent funk albums. His rock influence is apparent here, with the album having a heavy sound. But he also understands the use of the 'one', with the dance songs being super funky in the mold of Bootsy. The album's only weakness is lyrical, but there are enough interesting concepts to hold up the album. But the lyrics aren't the focus here, the excellent music is. Any fan of Jerome (who was onboard the P.Funk train from 1975-77, producing many classics, including his signature "Give Up The Funk") or super heavy funk in general should seek out these albums. The most remarkable thing about this album is how good Jerome Brailey's vocals are and how funky his arrangements. Despite the barrage of insults, Clinton said in later years that he would have been happy to have this album on his own Uncle Jam label!
"Go Away From Here" is a mid-tempo song that is immediately noticable for its funky bass and distorted vocals. There's a nice dramatic buildup with the addition of a clever horn arrangement and a muted but wailing guitar. The song talks about faking the funk and such. "What More Can I Say" is another mid-tempo song in much the same mold, with the same muted guitar, great singing and another excellent horn arrangement. "Lump" is a hot dance-funk song. Jerome uses his funny, higher-pitched voice to dis Clinton ('Lump, lump can you cut the funk?' and 'Thinking you did something, realizing you ain't done a lot') and the Brides in a humorous fashion. The great slap bass keeps things moving. "Funk N Bop" is another fast funker, also amusing in the same vein. This one has a lot of great lyrical hooks, like 'The longer the stroke, the deeper the fill' and 'Sworn to fun, loyal to none'. The band absolutely locks in on this one, it's just a rock-hard funker. "Burning Up" is a mid-tempo funk ballad with more good vocal arrangements. "Voyage To..." is a more guitar-oriented song with whispered lyrics and crisp drumming. "Everytime You..." is a straightforward ballad with a strong guitar presence that highlights Jerome's singing. "Romeo" is a weird mid-tempo song with a funny chant and a more subdued lead vocal. The synth is the focus here, creating a strange tension. The beat is steady and holds the whole thing together.
This album is out of print and somewhat rare, but it's available as an import from P-Vine. The cover shows Jerome on a beach, dressed as a pirate, recovering a treasure chest. An inside sleeve illustration has Jerome making Clinton (whom he calls 'Lump') walk the plank. The whole thing is pretty funny. Ace Records also apparently plans to reissue this album soon as well.http://people.duke.edu/~tmc/motherpage/albums_spinoffs/alb-mutiny_mamaship.html
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:42 (thirteen years ago)
As good as any mid or late period Funkadelic. This album is an essential funk album. You need to hear this!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:47 (thirteen years ago)
224. PARLIAMENT Osmium (1168 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #348 for 1970http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/905/MI0000905472.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1ubgURtPCCPXsK2vxKTUuT
What happens when a black harmony group names an album after the heaviest metal, depluralizes its name, and pluralizes its music? It may be pretentious bullshit, but it sure is interesting pretentious bullshit--bagpipes and steel guitars, Bach and rock, Satchmo as Kingfish, work chants as dozens, all in the service of a world view in which love/sex becomes frightening, even brutal, and no less credible for that. B -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Ned RaggettThe first Parliament album as such was a mixed-up mess of an affair -- but would anyone expect anything less? The overall sound is much more Funkadelic than later Parliament, if with a somewhat more accessible feel. Things get going with an appropriately leering start, thanks to "I Call My Baby Pussycat," which makes something like "What's New, Pussycat?" seem like innocent, chaste conversation. After a stripped-down start, things explode into a full-on funk strut with heavy-duty guitar and slamming drums setting the way, while the singers sound like they're tripping without losing the soul -- sudden music dropouts, vocal cut-ins, volume level tweaks, and more add to the off-kilter feeling. Osmium's sound progresses from there -- it's funk's fire combined with a studio freedom that feels like a blueprint for the future. Bernie Worrell's keyboard abilities are already clear, whether he's trying for hotel lounge jams or full freakiness; similarly, Eddie Hazel is clearly finding his own epic stoned zone to peel out some amazing solos at the drop of a hat. As for the subject matter and end results -- who else but this crew could have come up with the trash-talking, yodeling twang of "Little Ole Country Boy" in 1970 and still made it funky with all the steel guitar? Other fun times include the piano and vocal-into-full-band goofy romantic romp of "My Automobile" and "Funky Woman," where over a heavy groove (and goofy Worrell break) the titular character lives with the consequence of her stank: "She hung them in the air/The air said this ain't fair!" Amidst all the nuttiness, there are some perhaps surprising depths -- consider "Oh Lord, Why Lord/Prayer," which might almost be too pretty for its own good (Worrell's harpsichord almost verges on the sickly sweet) but still has some lovely gospel choir singing and heartfelt lyrics.
The first Parliament album as such was a mixed-up mess of an affair -- but would anyone expect anything less? The overall sound is much more Funkadelic than later Parliament, if with a somewhat more accessible feel. Things get going with an appropriately leering start, thanks to "I Call My Baby Pussycat," which makes something like "What's New, Pussycat?" seem like innocent, chaste conversation. After a stripped-down start, things explode into a full-on funk strut with heavy-duty guitar and slamming drums setting the way, while the singers sound like they're tripping without losing the soul -- sudden music dropouts, vocal cut-ins, volume level tweaks, and more add to the off-kilter feeling. Osmium's sound progresses from there -- it's funk's fire combined with a studio freedom that feels like a blueprint for the future. Bernie Worrell's keyboard abilities are already clear, whether he's trying for hotel lounge jams or full freakiness; similarly, Eddie Hazel is clearly finding his own epic stoned zone to peel out some amazing solos at the drop of a hat. As for the subject matter and end results -- who else but this crew could have come up with the trash-talking, yodeling twang of "Little Ole Country Boy" in 1970 and still made it funky with all the steel guitar? Other fun times include the piano and vocal-into-full-band goofy romantic romp of "My Automobile" and "Funky Woman," where over a heavy groove (and goofy Worrell break) the titular character lives with the consequence of her stank: "She hung them in the air/The air said this ain't fair!" Amidst all the nuttiness, there are some perhaps surprising depths -- consider "Oh Lord, Why Lord/Prayer," which might almost be too pretty for its own good (Worrell's harpsichord almost verges on the sickly sweet) but still has some lovely gospel choir singing and heartfelt lyrics.
From The Motherpage:
GZ: Osmium is closer in sound to the early Funkadelic than to later Parliament, although I find it much lighter in spirit. This is fun, lightly soulful, psychedelia. I haven't heard Rhenium yet, but I gather that it replaces some Ruth Copeland compositions, with unreleased Parliament songs. Another point of reference here is the early Chairmen of the Board, which was more rocking than the soul harmony group they evolved into; "Finders Keepers" had several Parliament players on it.MT: It should be noted that the version of "Red Hot Mama", "Breakdown" and "Come In Out Of The Rain" that appear on Rhenium and First Thangs are different versions. Rhenium appears to contain the original 45 versions (though I own none of the 45's) and First Thangs contains alternate versions/edits. The "Red Hot Mama" on First Thangs is a completely different take which is longer and more lively than the version on Rhenium. "Breakdown" is from the same take on both versions - but the First Thangs version contains an intro and bass/drums breakdown which were edited out of the version which appears on Rhenium. "Come In Out Of The Rain" sound the same to me - but the First Thangs version is fifteen seconds longer - so they must have edited something out of the Rhenium version.Also - there was some bad print through on the master tapes used for First Thangs apparent on "My Automobile" which isn't on the Rhenium release. One of the versions appears with the stereo reversed - only I'd need to own a copy of Osmium to know which one.RC: First Thangs is definitely the CD to get if you want the complete look at Parliament from around 1970-72. However, it's less coherent than the original album, especially when you add in lengthy instrumentals and singles. The tracks from the original Osmium album are as follows: "I Call My Baby Pussycat", "Put Love In Your Life", "Little Old Country Boy", "Moonshine Heather (Takin' Care of Business)", "Oh Lord, Why Lord/Prayer", "My Automobile", "There Is Nothing Before Me But Thang", "Funky Woman" "Livin' The Life" and "The Silent Boatmen". Added to the Rhenium CD were the Parliament singles "The Breakdown", "Come In Out Of The Rain" and "Red Hot Mama". Lastly, First Thangs tacks on "Unfinished Instrumental", "Loose Booty", and "Fantasy Is Reality". Rhenium is an import-only CD. There's also a CD rerelease of Osmium, but I'm not sure what tracks are on that. I'll review each wave of songs separately.In general, the album is a brilliant and eclectic collection of styles. Every song tries some new trick or experiment, some of which work, while the failures are at least interesting. As a precursor to most of P.Funk's later work, this album can be regarded as a blueprint for How To Funk Like The Others Don't. With the weird lyrics, instruments and arrangements, this album is really not like any other, before or since. Some of the riffs and songs would be used again later, many would be used in concert for years to come, and others would never be heard from again. But if you want to hear a variety of styles ranging from gospel to country-western to rockabilly to acid rock to waaay-back yonder funk to god knows what else, it's all here.Starting with the original songs, "I Call My Baby Pussycat" is quite different than the version that would end up on Funkadelic's America Eats Its Young. The vocals, (sung by Fuzzy & Ray, I think), are much clearer, and the guitar line is a lot more straightforward. Plus, of course, the minor lyrical differences, "pussy vs pussycat" and all the connotations therein. I actually almost prefer this version, with the "whoa-ha-hey! whoa-ha-ha" chant thrown in the middle. A funky rocker, but fairly straightforward. But with "Put Love In Your Life", things begin to get weird, with that spoken word intro with a haunting organ in the background. The singers really switch off leads in jarring fashion, and this album features a great deal of Ray Davis, for instance. This song features singing and a number of jarring stops and starts, with odd echoes and reverb behind thrown in. Then it suddenly lurches into high gear, with an incredible Billy Nelson bass vamp, stops again, then steadies itself with a chorus of voices, including Ruth Copeland hitting the high notes. Unmatched weirdness. After that, you get "Little Old Country Boy", which is a country song equipped with yodels, a gorgeous lap-steel guitar solo straight outta Memphis, and hilarious vocals from Fuzzy. We then switch to "Moonshine Heather", a slow, funky groove of a tune about a mother who must sell moonshine to support her kids. A precursor to "Cosmic Slop"? "Oh Lord, Why Lord", a cry against racism, is set to an almost classical-sounding arrangement, with Bernie's influence quite evident here. "My Automobile", with a pre-song conference detailing how it was written, is spectacular rockabilly, pure and simple. A great riff from Eddie and a pure rock bassline drive the amusingly sexist lyrics, and when Fuzzy sings them it strikes you as funny, not nasty. It's interesting that you hear George sort of hum a tune, and Bernie suddenly turns it into a real tune on his piano. I imagine this happened more than once. Things gallop back into the funky neighborhood with "Nothing Before Me But Thang", another Eddie-lead excursion, with such lyrics as "It's good to be hard, but it's hard to be good." Bernie is the star of that ode to menstruation, "Funky Woman", with a great solo, but the guitarists also keep this one rocking. The album's masterpiece, "Livin' The Life", features brilliant lyrics, a delicate Bernie piano intro, a great acoustic/wah-wah guitar interweaving, and a crescendo to an amazing riff that was later lifted for the entirety of "Hardcore Jollies". The section concludes with "The Silent Boatmen", a bizarre song featuring bagpipes and an ode to the Ferryman of Death.As for the singles, "Red Hot Mama" is great, but would become greater when redone a few years later. I do love the different feedback-fuzzy guitar intro on this one, though. "Come In Out Of The Rain" features lines later quoted in "Gamin' On Ya", and is a great put-down on a complacent society. "Fantasy Is Reality" later popped up on the Earth Tour Album, but this version features George doing the lyrics. Not their strongest song, it does have the line, "I'm free because I'm free of the need to be free," which would be used many times later. "The Breakdown" is an ordinary, but fun, funk/dance jam. "Loose Booty" is mostly unfinished intrumental stuff that would later be sorted out to form the classic on America Eats Its Young. George's lyrics are hilarious.This album shows George at his most adventurous in the studio, before he knew how to produce P.Funk's trademark sound, but it was also an attempt to be more "commercial" than Funkadelic, with an emphasis on singing. Of course, the album failed miserably commercially, but it's still a brilliant and fascinating collection of songs.
MT: It should be noted that the version of "Red Hot Mama", "Breakdown" and "Come In Out Of The Rain" that appear on Rhenium and First Thangs are different versions. Rhenium appears to contain the original 45 versions (though I own none of the 45's) and First Thangs contains alternate versions/edits. The "Red Hot Mama" on First Thangs is a completely different take which is longer and more lively than the version on Rhenium. "Breakdown" is from the same take on both versions - but the First Thangs version contains an intro and bass/drums breakdown which were edited out of the version which appears on Rhenium. "Come In Out Of The Rain" sound the same to me - but the First Thangs version is fifteen seconds longer - so they must have edited something out of the Rhenium version.
Also - there was some bad print through on the master tapes used for First Thangs apparent on "My Automobile" which isn't on the Rhenium release. One of the versions appears with the stereo reversed - only I'd need to own a copy of Osmium to know which one.
RC: First Thangs is definitely the CD to get if you want the complete look at Parliament from around 1970-72. However, it's less coherent than the original album, especially when you add in lengthy instrumentals and singles. The tracks from the original Osmium album are as follows: "I Call My Baby Pussycat", "Put Love In Your Life", "Little Old Country Boy", "Moonshine Heather (Takin' Care of Business)", "Oh Lord, Why Lord/Prayer", "My Automobile", "There Is Nothing Before Me But Thang", "Funky Woman" "Livin' The Life" and "The Silent Boatmen". Added to the Rhenium CD were the Parliament singles "The Breakdown", "Come In Out Of The Rain" and "Red Hot Mama". Lastly, First Thangs tacks on "Unfinished Instrumental", "Loose Booty", and "Fantasy Is Reality". Rhenium is an import-only CD. There's also a CD rerelease of Osmium, but I'm not sure what tracks are on that. I'll review each wave of songs separately.
In general, the album is a brilliant and eclectic collection of styles. Every song tries some new trick or experiment, some of which work, while the failures are at least interesting. As a precursor to most of P.Funk's later work, this album can be regarded as a blueprint for How To Funk Like The Others Don't. With the weird lyrics, instruments and arrangements, this album is really not like any other, before or since. Some of the riffs and songs would be used again later, many would be used in concert for years to come, and others would never be heard from again. But if you want to hear a variety of styles ranging from gospel to country-western to rockabilly to acid rock to waaay-back yonder funk to god knows what else, it's all here.
Starting with the original songs, "I Call My Baby Pussycat" is quite different than the version that would end up on Funkadelic's America Eats Its Young. The vocals, (sung by Fuzzy & Ray, I think), are much clearer, and the guitar line is a lot more straightforward. Plus, of course, the minor lyrical differences, "pussy vs pussycat" and all the connotations therein. I actually almost prefer this version, with the "whoa-ha-hey! whoa-ha-ha" chant thrown in the middle. A funky rocker, but fairly straightforward. But with "Put Love In Your Life", things begin to get weird, with that spoken word intro with a haunting organ in the background. The singers really switch off leads in jarring fashion, and this album features a great deal of Ray Davis, for instance. This song features singing and a number of jarring stops and starts, with odd echoes and reverb behind thrown in. Then it suddenly lurches into high gear, with an incredible Billy Nelson bass vamp, stops again, then steadies itself with a chorus of voices, including Ruth Copeland hitting the high notes. Unmatched weirdness. After that, you get "Little Old Country Boy", which is a country song equipped with yodels, a gorgeous lap-steel guitar solo straight outta Memphis, and hilarious vocals from Fuzzy. We then switch to "Moonshine Heather", a slow, funky groove of a tune about a mother who must sell moonshine to support her kids. A precursor to "Cosmic Slop"? "Oh Lord, Why Lord", a cry against racism, is set to an almost classical-sounding arrangement, with Bernie's influence quite evident here. "My Automobile", with a pre-song conference detailing how it was written, is spectacular rockabilly, pure and simple. A great riff from Eddie and a pure rock bassline drive the amusingly sexist lyrics, and when Fuzzy sings them it strikes you as funny, not nasty. It's interesting that you hear George sort of hum a tune, and Bernie suddenly turns it into a real tune on his piano. I imagine this happened more than once. Things gallop back into the funky neighborhood with "Nothing Before Me But Thang", another Eddie-lead excursion, with such lyrics as "It's good to be hard, but it's hard to be good." Bernie is the star of that ode to menstruation, "Funky Woman", with a great solo, but the guitarists also keep this one rocking. The album's masterpiece, "Livin' The Life", features brilliant lyrics, a delicate Bernie piano intro, a great acoustic/wah-wah guitar interweaving, and a crescendo to an amazing riff that was later lifted for the entirety of "Hardcore Jollies". The section concludes with "The Silent Boatmen", a bizarre song featuring bagpipes and an ode to the Ferryman of Death.
As for the singles, "Red Hot Mama" is great, but would become greater when redone a few years later. I do love the different feedback-fuzzy guitar intro on this one, though. "Come In Out Of The Rain" features lines later quoted in "Gamin' On Ya", and is a great put-down on a complacent society. "Fantasy Is Reality" later popped up on the Earth Tour Album, but this version features George doing the lyrics. Not their strongest song, it does have the line, "I'm free because I'm free of the need to be free," which would be used many times later. "The Breakdown" is an ordinary, but fun, funk/dance jam. "Loose Booty" is mostly unfinished intrumental stuff that would later be sorted out to form the classic on America Eats Its Young. George's lyrics are hilarious.
This album shows George at his most adventurous in the studio, before he knew how to produce P.Funk's trademark sound, but it was also an attempt to be more "commercial" than Funkadelic, with an emphasis on singing. Of course, the album failed miserably commercially, but it's still a brilliant and fascinating collection of songs.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 18:50 (thirteen years ago)
223. DAF Ein Produkt der Deutsch-Amerikanischen Freundschaft (1177 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #511 for 1979http://www.getvinyl.com/img/original/175_1.jpeghttp://open.spotify.com/album/1RzV8gMUjszLSD8QsfXDey
Originating as Düsseldorf art-punk cacophony cultists in the holdout hippie culture of late 1970's Germany, D.A.F. ? originally a group, but generally known internationally as the duo of instrumentalist Robert Görl and singer Gabi Delgado-Lopez ? broke away to find success in Europe as a synthesizer-and-dance band.Ein Produkt der D.A.F. is an apocalyptic eruption of sound announcing the end of the German Republic, with shrieking, colliding overdubbed synths and guitars. The electro-metal is simultaneously repellent and compelling. -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:00 (thirteen years ago)
222. THIN LIZZY Johnny the Fox (1179 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #54 for 1976 , #3150 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/737/MI0001737103.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6AHur1NV54i9C7QdEe8OQU
A burst of machine-gun snares settles into a funky beat that is jolted by a squeal of wah-wah guitar and the cry of "Johnny the Fox!" from bassist Phil Lynott. And then, employing an irresistible rhythm lick, the twin guitars of Brian Robertson and Scot Gorham set into motion the hard-rock machine that has established Thin Lizzy as a prime manipulator of mid-Seventies hard rock. Like Cocky Rocky, this album's archetypal rock & roll star, Thin Lizzy knows all the moves.Thin Lizzy's strength lies in a thorough digestion of influences -- the Who, the Stones and Jimi Hendrix -- that has given them an organic cohesion. John Alcock's production is muddy in the British rock tradition when compared to the streamlined and steely technique Jack Douglas uses with Aerosmith, and in this sense Lizzy re-creates rather than recasts the combustible energy of their forefathers. Obviously, being British doesn't hurt.The twin guitars are Lizzy's musical meat and potatoes, and each song on Johnny the Fox is carefully woven with rhythm and lead lines that stick to the ribs. At times Lizzy's guitar attack becomes overbearing -- as on the syncopated throwaway "Boogie Woogie Dance" and the labored introductions to "Rocky" and "Massacre" -- but it is more often solid and tasteful. "Old Flame" is particularly impressive, as the rhythm and leads form a smoothly shifting backdrop for Lynott's gentle romanticizing.Lynott, who wrote half the tunes while collaborating on the rest, possesses a sure melodic touch that is equally effective on tough rockers like "Don't Believe a Word" and softer tunes such as "Fool's Gold." Similarly, his voice, which is often bolstered by double-tracking and the judicious use of echo, is smoothly assured. Lynott's voice has individual character (he's wisely scrapped the whispering technique that made him a ringer for Springsteen on "The Boys Are Back in Town") and is consequently the best of the recent crop of hard rockers.Lynott's lyrics have similarly overcome the pedestrian gaffes that flawed his work on Jailbreak. And yet, while both his lyrics and music have improved, it's more a process of refinement than a movement toward a more unique style. Lynott and Thin Lizzy have crafted their rock & roll attack to the point where they must branch out stylistically or indefinitely repeat themselves.Johnny the Fox's lyrics revolve around violence and rock & roll. "Johnny" is a bone-crunching rocker with lyrics to match: Johnny has robbed a drugstore and shot the guard "to fill a daily need" and is now holed up in an alleyway with a gun. What is disturbing about the song is its narrative superficiality -- the lyrics neither explain nor question his violent tendencies. Consequently, they provoke little response -- while Lynott lays out the odds of emerging from the alley alive, we hardly care if he gets shot in the head.Like Aerosmith's Steven Tyler, Lynott often uses life as a rock & roll star as a lyrical launching pad. From "Rocky" to "Sweet Marie" we are regaled with a view of spotlights in our eyes, and in the end, it's this self-absorption that separates this generation of rockers from their models. For the Who and the Stones, the world was not viewed from the stage; rather, the stage was seen as a way to illuminate the world. For Thin Lizzy and their contemporaries, the stage is a world view in itself. -- John Milward, RS
Thin Lizzy's strength lies in a thorough digestion of influences -- the Who, the Stones and Jimi Hendrix -- that has given them an organic cohesion. John Alcock's production is muddy in the British rock tradition when compared to the streamlined and steely technique Jack Douglas uses with Aerosmith, and in this sense Lizzy re-creates rather than recasts the combustible energy of their forefathers. Obviously, being British doesn't hurt.
The twin guitars are Lizzy's musical meat and potatoes, and each song on Johnny the Fox is carefully woven with rhythm and lead lines that stick to the ribs. At times Lizzy's guitar attack becomes overbearing -- as on the syncopated throwaway "Boogie Woogie Dance" and the labored introductions to "Rocky" and "Massacre" -- but it is more often solid and tasteful. "Old Flame" is particularly impressive, as the rhythm and leads form a smoothly shifting backdrop for Lynott's gentle romanticizing.
Lynott, who wrote half the tunes while collaborating on the rest, possesses a sure melodic touch that is equally effective on tough rockers like "Don't Believe a Word" and softer tunes such as "Fool's Gold." Similarly, his voice, which is often bolstered by double-tracking and the judicious use of echo, is smoothly assured. Lynott's voice has individual character (he's wisely scrapped the whispering technique that made him a ringer for Springsteen on "The Boys Are Back in Town") and is consequently the best of the recent crop of hard rockers.Lynott's lyrics have similarly overcome the pedestrian gaffes that flawed his work on Jailbreak. And yet, while both his lyrics and music have improved, it's more a process of refinement than a movement toward a more unique style. Lynott and Thin Lizzy have crafted their rock & roll attack to the point where they must branch out stylistically or indefinitely repeat themselves.
Johnny the Fox's lyrics revolve around violence and rock & roll. "Johnny" is a bone-crunching rocker with lyrics to match: Johnny has robbed a drugstore and shot the guard "to fill a daily need" and is now holed up in an alleyway with a gun. What is disturbing about the song is its narrative superficiality -- the lyrics neither explain nor question his violent tendencies. Consequently, they provoke little response -- while Lynott lays out the odds of emerging from the alley alive, we hardly care if he gets shot in the head.
Like Aerosmith's Steven Tyler, Lynott often uses life as a rock & roll star as a lyrical launching pad. From "Rocky" to "Sweet Marie" we are regaled with a view of spotlights in our eyes, and in the end, it's this self-absorption that separates this generation of rockers from their models. For the Who and the Stones, the world was not viewed from the stage; rather, the stage was seen as a way to illuminate the world. For Thin Lizzy and their contemporaries, the stage is a world view in itself. -- John Milward, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineJailbreak was such a peak that it was inevitable that its follow-up would fall short in some fashion and Johnny the Fox, delivered the same year as its predecessor, did indeed pale in comparison. What's interesting about Johnny the Fox is that it's interesting, hardly a rote repetition of Jailbreak but instead an odd, fitfully successful evolution forward. All the same strengths are still here -- the band still sounds as thunderous as a force of nature, Phil Lynott's writing is still graced with elegant turns of phrase, his singing is still soulful and seductive -- but the group ramped up the inherent drama in Lynott's songs by pushing them toward an odd, half-baked concept album. There may be a story within Johnny the Fox -- characters are introduced and brought back, at the very least -- but it's impossible to tell. If the album only had an undercooked narrative and immediate songs, such digressions would be excusable, but the music is also a bit elliptical in spots, sometimes sounding theatrical, sometimes relying on narration. None of this falls flat, but it's never quite as gripping as Jailbreak -- or the best moments here, for that matter, because when Johnny the Fox is good, it's great, as on the surging "Don't Believe a Word" or the elegiac "Borderline." These are the reasons why Johnny the Fox is worth the extra effort, because it does pay off even if it isn't quite as good as what came immediately before -- or immediately afterward, for that matter.
Jailbreak was such a peak that it was inevitable that its follow-up would fall short in some fashion and Johnny the Fox, delivered the same year as its predecessor, did indeed pale in comparison. What's interesting about Johnny the Fox is that it's interesting, hardly a rote repetition of Jailbreak but instead an odd, fitfully successful evolution forward. All the same strengths are still here -- the band still sounds as thunderous as a force of nature, Phil Lynott's writing is still graced with elegant turns of phrase, his singing is still soulful and seductive -- but the group ramped up the inherent drama in Lynott's songs by pushing them toward an odd, half-baked concept album. There may be a story within Johnny the Fox -- characters are introduced and brought back, at the very least -- but it's impossible to tell. If the album only had an undercooked narrative and immediate songs, such digressions would be excusable, but the music is also a bit elliptical in spots, sometimes sounding theatrical, sometimes relying on narration. None of this falls flat, but it's never quite as gripping as Jailbreak -- or the best moments here, for that matter, because when Johnny the Fox is good, it's great, as on the surging "Don't Believe a Word" or the elegiac "Borderline." These are the reasons why Johnny the Fox is worth the extra effort, because it does pay off even if it isn't quite as good as what came immediately before -- or immediately afterward, for that matter.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:10 (thirteen years ago)
happy the hawklords album made it. often overlooked but one of hawk wind's best and calvert at his finest. gong too low.
― stirmonster, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:11 (thirteen years ago)
I was surprised Gong was that high as I've never seen ILM as a hotbed of love for Gong.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:12 (thirteen years ago)
one of ILM's major character flaws. :)
― stirmonster, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:15 (thirteen years ago)
well it still got enough votes to make it! and maybe by telling people why you like it then you might be able to get people on ILM to check it out!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:18 (thirteen years ago)
221. FELA KUTI He Miss Road (1181 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #131 for 1975http://www.jpc.de/image/w600/front/0/0720841001614.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3XkFnuQQ691YxT2wcPaKda
review[-] by Thom JurekHe Miss Road was produced by none other than Ginger Baker, who was a semi-regular jamming partner of Fela Kuti's as well as a close friend. And the tunes Fela wrote for this platter are wild, cosmic, sexy as hell, and deeply saturated in funk à la James Brown. The B-3 solo at the beginning of the title track is simply a device for inviting the band in. The B-3 is way up in the mix, supercharged. The echo effects Baker used on the organ and the horns add a nice touch and create a different textural quality, one that is spacious, to be sure, but still rooted in the shamanic repetition as the riff goes on forever no matter what instruments enter or leave the mix. The vocals show up midway through as everything gets tense and explodes. "Monday Morning in Lagos" is deep, dark, swirling Afro-funk. It's moody, spooky, and its organ line just stitches the whole groove together. The final cut, "It's No Promise," is pure Nigerian trance music. The longest track here, it's also the most abstract. It's held together by Tony Allen's drumming and the popping bassline by Franco Aboddy. This is one of Fela's cookers, an album from his most creative period, and it reigns among the best in his extensive catalog.
He Miss Road was produced by none other than Ginger Baker, who was a semi-regular jamming partner of Fela Kuti's as well as a close friend. And the tunes Fela wrote for this platter are wild, cosmic, sexy as hell, and deeply saturated in funk à la James Brown. The B-3 solo at the beginning of the title track is simply a device for inviting the band in. The B-3 is way up in the mix, supercharged. The echo effects Baker used on the organ and the horns add a nice touch and create a different textural quality, one that is spacious, to be sure, but still rooted in the shamanic repetition as the riff goes on forever no matter what instruments enter or leave the mix. The vocals show up midway through as everything gets tense and explodes. "Monday Morning in Lagos" is deep, dark, swirling Afro-funk. It's moody, spooky, and its organ line just stitches the whole groove together. The final cut, "It's No Promise," is pure Nigerian trance music. The longest track here, it's also the most abstract. It's held together by Tony Allen's drumming and the popping bassline by Franco Aboddy. This is one of Fela's cookers, an album from his most creative period, and it reigns among the best in his extensive catalog.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:20 (thirteen years ago)
220. DEEP PURPLE In Rock (1186 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #14 for 1970 , #190 overall | Acclaimed: #356http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/532/MI0002532439.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2bjTVISSsvwia7uxrrEsuQ
As I've blagged repeatedly, In Rock was the central of three LPs instrumental in the invention of heavy metal, a primary and weighty album wrought twisted and screaming at the hands of the legendary but volatile Deep Purple Mark II... Forget Hendrix, Ceam, early Zeppelin, Blue Cheer, The Who, MC5, The Stooges or all those wobbly fuzz psych rarities. Not a real metal album among the lot, all making records which ranged (and tightly so) from loud, noisy, sloppy blues through loud, noisy, sloppy psychedelia, all sounding excruciatingly ancient, rudimentary and depressing, with not an ounce of power chorded discipline or useful metal invention lasting more than a few bars...In Rock may be the flashiest, freshest, and most sophisticated of the three, brimming with classic, scientific, and entirely blinding shafts of galloping guitar insight, including ":Hard Lovin' Man," possibly the first staccato-chugging "power metal" anthem ever plus "Bloodsucker" and "Speed King," dense mechanical clusters which could easily have been written by today's sophisticated riff-rastlin' punter. Indeed "Child In Time," a lengthy, mellow journey with scarcely a pulse, is the only track that doesn't quite fit the bill on this otherwise brilliant opus, a record as high and mighty as its adapted Mt. Rushmore cover....The loftiest icebreaker in the creation of the world's sweetest sound, heavy metal, even if the band would never accept the dubious honour, given their fancying of themselves as a jazzy bluesy proggy hard rock band...that is, anything BUT metal. 9/10 -- M. PopoffHaving failed to make any significant commercial impact with three previous albums, Deep Purple finally turned some heads following the recruitment of vocalist Ian Gillian, bassist Roger Glover, and the premier of their atypical but ambitious crossover project, Concerto For Group & Orchestra, at the Royal Albert Hall in 1969. Though this classical curiosity secured a Top 30 placing, there was a nagging sense that they had yet to fulfil their true potential.Recorded in snatches between relentless gigging over a six month period, In Rock, released in June 1970, did just that. In some respects the material was a skilful synthesis of what was already in the air. “Into The Fire” simmers some of the juice left over from Hendrix (“Purple Haze”) and Cream (“Politician”), “Black Night” (not originally on the album but included on the anniversary edition) is a steroid-enhanced augmentation of the Blue Magoos’ “(We Ain’t Got) Nothin’ Yet.” Even the album’s rhapsodic stand-out centrepiece, “Child In Time” was itself adapted from “Bombay Calling” by US psychedelic folk rockers, It’s A Beautiful Day. In lesser hands a sculpting of such unlikely raw materials might not have worked.That it did is evidence of their strident confidence that the new line-up had found. Deep Purple raised the bar thanks to the water-tight rhythm section of Glover and drummer Ian Paice, who together underpinned the diamond-hard riffing from which Ritchie Blackmore’s fast-moving excursions would go head to head with Jon Lord’s neo-classical noodlings, like a couple of cranked-up kamikaze. That we take the seam-splitting cod-operatics as the norm for today’s heavy metal tonsil-torturers is due in no small measure to lead singer Ian Gillan’s work here. Not even Led Zeppelin’s Robert Plant had the range of shrill theatrics or glass-worrying octaves achieved by Gillan on this record.Their collective chutzpah was captured via the album sleeve; rarely has a cover so presciently reflected the monumental influence its contents would have in the years that followed. Reaching number 2 in the UK charts in 1970, it made the band and pretty much carved out the template for heavy rock. -- Sid Smith, BBC
Having failed to make any significant commercial impact with three previous albums, Deep Purple finally turned some heads following the recruitment of vocalist Ian Gillian, bassist Roger Glover, and the premier of their atypical but ambitious crossover project, Concerto For Group & Orchestra, at the Royal Albert Hall in 1969. Though this classical curiosity secured a Top 30 placing, there was a nagging sense that they had yet to fulfil their true potential.
Recorded in snatches between relentless gigging over a six month period, In Rock, released in June 1970, did just that. In some respects the material was a skilful synthesis of what was already in the air. “Into The Fire” simmers some of the juice left over from Hendrix (“Purple Haze”) and Cream (“Politician”), “Black Night” (not originally on the album but included on the anniversary edition) is a steroid-enhanced augmentation of the Blue Magoos’ “(We Ain’t Got) Nothin’ Yet.” Even the album’s rhapsodic stand-out centrepiece, “Child In Time” was itself adapted from “Bombay Calling” by US psychedelic folk rockers, It’s A Beautiful Day. In lesser hands a sculpting of such unlikely raw materials might not have worked.
That it did is evidence of their strident confidence that the new line-up had found. Deep Purple raised the bar thanks to the water-tight rhythm section of Glover and drummer Ian Paice, who together underpinned the diamond-hard riffing from which Ritchie Blackmore’s fast-moving excursions would go head to head with Jon Lord’s neo-classical noodlings, like a couple of cranked-up kamikaze. That we take the seam-splitting cod-operatics as the norm for today’s heavy metal tonsil-torturers is due in no small measure to lead singer Ian Gillan’s work here. Not even Led Zeppelin’s Robert Plant had the range of shrill theatrics or glass-worrying octaves achieved by Gillan on this record.Their collective chutzpah was captured via the album sleeve; rarely has a cover so presciently reflected the monumental influence its contents would have in the years that followed. Reaching number 2 in the UK charts in 1970, it made the band and pretty much carved out the template for heavy rock. -- Sid Smith, BBC
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaAfter satisfying all of their classical music kinks with keyboard player Jon Lord's overblown Concerto for Group and Orchestra, Deep Purple's soon to be classic Mark II version made its proper debut and established the sonic blueprint that would immortalize this lineup of the band on 1970's awesome In Rock. The cacophony of sound (spearheaded by Ritchie Blackmore's blistering guitar solo) introducing opener "Speed King" made it immediately obvious that the band was no longer fooling around, but the slightly less intense "Bloodsucker" did afford stunned listeners a chance to catch their breaths before the band launched into the album's epic, ten-minute tour de force, "Child in Time." In what still stands as arguably his single greatest performance, singer Ian Gillan led his bandmates on a series of hypnotizing crescendos, from the song's gentle beginning through to its ear-shattering climax and then back again for an even more intense encore that brought the original vinyl album's seismic first side to a close. Side two opened with the searing power chords of "Flight of the Rat" -- another example of the band's new take-no-prisoners hard rock stance, though at nearly eight minutes, it too found room for some extended soloing from Blackmore and Lord. Next, "Into the Fire" and "Living Wreck" proved more concise but equally appealing, and though closer "Hard Lovin' Man" finally saw the new-look Deep Purple waffling on a bit too long before descending into feedback, the die was cast for one of heavy metal's defining albums.
After satisfying all of their classical music kinks with keyboard player Jon Lord's overblown Concerto for Group and Orchestra, Deep Purple's soon to be classic Mark II version made its proper debut and established the sonic blueprint that would immortalize this lineup of the band on 1970's awesome In Rock. The cacophony of sound (spearheaded by Ritchie Blackmore's blistering guitar solo) introducing opener "Speed King" made it immediately obvious that the band was no longer fooling around, but the slightly less intense "Bloodsucker" did afford stunned listeners a chance to catch their breaths before the band launched into the album's epic, ten-minute tour de force, "Child in Time." In what still stands as arguably his single greatest performance, singer Ian Gillan led his bandmates on a series of hypnotizing crescendos, from the song's gentle beginning through to its ear-shattering climax and then back again for an even more intense encore that brought the original vinyl album's seismic first side to a close. Side two opened with the searing power chords of "Flight of the Rat" -- another example of the band's new take-no-prisoners hard rock stance, though at nearly eight minutes, it too found room for some extended soloing from Blackmore and Lord. Next, "Into the Fire" and "Living Wreck" proved more concise but equally appealing, and though closer "Hard Lovin' Man" finally saw the new-look Deep Purple waffling on a bit too long before descending into feedback, the die was cast for one of heavy metal's defining albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:30 (thirteen years ago)
woo came back just in time for more fela
― Mordy, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:31 (thirteen years ago)
wow, I think almost everything I voted for already placed
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:38 (thirteen years ago)
or if it hasn't already, it won't
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:39 (thirteen years ago)
219. AC/DC Powerage (1189 Points, 8 Votes)RYM: #83 for 1978 , #3715 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/406/MI0002406959.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
eviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewinePowerage was a first in the sense that it debuted bassist Cliff Williams, but it really is more of a final curtain to the band's early years. It would be the last produced by Vanda & Young, the legendary Australian production team who also helmed hits by the Easybeats, and it was the last before AC/DC became superstars. As such, it's perhaps the most overlooked of their '70s records, also because, frankly, it is the most uneven of them. Not that it's a bad record -- far from it, actually. There are a few genuine classics here, most notably "Down Payment Blues" and "Up to My Neck in You," and there's a real appeal in how Bon Scott's gutter poems of excess are reaching a mythic level; there's a real sense that he truly does believe that rock & roll leads straight to hell on "Rock 'n' Roll Damnation." But overall, the record is just a bit too wobbly, one where the parts don't add up to a record as hard and addictive as before -- but there's still plenty worth hearing here.
Powerage was a first in the sense that it debuted bassist Cliff Williams, but it really is more of a final curtain to the band's early years. It would be the last produced by Vanda & Young, the legendary Australian production team who also helmed hits by the Easybeats, and it was the last before AC/DC became superstars. As such, it's perhaps the most overlooked of their '70s records, also because, frankly, it is the most uneven of them. Not that it's a bad record -- far from it, actually. There are a few genuine classics here, most notably "Down Payment Blues" and "Up to My Neck in You," and there's a real appeal in how Bon Scott's gutter poems of excess are reaching a mythic level; there's a real sense that he truly does believe that rock & roll leads straight to hell on "Rock 'n' Roll Damnation." But overall, the record is just a bit too wobbly, one where the parts don't add up to a record as hard and addictive as before -- but there's still plenty worth hearing here.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:40 (thirteen years ago)
218. LEAF HOUND Growers of Mushroom (1204 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #126 for 1971 , #3306 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/622/MI0001622584.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5ESifIusJuTMSEBoQvdums
Leaf Hound is known more for its lead singer Pete French, who had crowed with John Cann in Atomic Rooster and bizarrely, with the thorniest blues band in the desert, Cactus...dark, riffy blues metal like Zeppelin...There's a steely, garage quality ot the mix (the record was made in 11 hours), further made purposeful by French's powerful pipes, French inflecting and injecting like Plant but with more of a street-heating growl. All told, about half the record's heavy like the hoodllum blues, hard-wired for, adn compatible with, the riffs set to emerge from the greats over hte next couple of years, and half is a little more folky or pure of blues intent or simple soft rock. Great chemicals, er, chemistry though. 6/8 -- M. PopoffThe album starts with the riff-tastic "Freelance Fiend," which should have been a hit in every way you may look at it. "Sad Road to the Sea" emphasizes French's powerful voice while "Work My Body," the longest track here, adds keyboards to French's show and to Hall's impressive guitar work. "Stray" is another sadly missed hit while the title track is exceptional, being the only slightly psychedelic track, and even then, the lyrics imply an undesired nightmarish trip. There isn't even one weak track in Growers of Mushroom and recent reissues added two excellent bonus tracks. -- R. Chelled
The album starts with the riff-tastic "Freelance Fiend," which should have been a hit in every way you may look at it. "Sad Road to the Sea" emphasizes French's powerful voice while "Work My Body," the longest track here, adds keyboards to French's show and to Hall's impressive guitar work. "Stray" is another sadly missed hit while the title track is exceptional, being the only slightly psychedelic track, and even then, the lyrics imply an undesired nightmarish trip. There isn't even one weak track in Growers of Mushroom and recent reissues added two excellent bonus tracks. -- R. Chelled
review[-] by Bryan ThomasLeaf Hound -- like Killing Floor -- was one of dozens of other working-class heavy rock bands who sprouted up in England during the British blues-rock boom of the late '60s. They immediately found themselves in the shadow of better bands, including Led Zeppelin and Free (to name just two), which may have led to their short life together. They recorded only one album, Growers of Mushroom, which found its first release in on the German-based Telefunken label. Somewhat surprisingly, however, the title track and leadoff track, "Freelance Fiend," were both left off that release. This error was corrected for the October 1971 release by Decca Records, but, by then, Leaf Hound had suffered from various internal problems and already called it a day. The album reportedly took only 11 hours to record in Mayfair's Spot Studios, which may be the reason there's nothing too special about this LP. Nevertheless, it has become a much-sought-after LP by collectors (mint condition copies have reportedly sold for as much as 1,300 dollars). Lead vocalist Peter French -- who went on to form Atomic Rooster and later worked with Cactus and a later lineup of Randy Pie -- is in fine form here, and his scorched-earth screech may even remind some fans of Robert Plant. His cousin, guitarist Mick Halls (who replaced Foghat-bound lead guitarist Rod Price, guitarist in French's earlier group, Black Cat Bones), doesn't have the same guitar prowess that, say, Jimmy Page had at the time, but he's no slouch either, showing considerable skill throughout. Interestingly, the song titles -- like the band's name -- were taken from an anthology of stories by horror author Herbert Van Thal. In 1995, See for Miles released a remastered CD reissue which featured a rarely heard bonus track, "It's Gonna Get Better," the B-side to their only single, "Drowned My Life in Fear"; some versions of the reissue also have "Hipshaker" added as a second bonus track.
Leaf Hound -- like Killing Floor -- was one of dozens of other working-class heavy rock bands who sprouted up in England during the British blues-rock boom of the late '60s. They immediately found themselves in the shadow of better bands, including Led Zeppelin and Free (to name just two), which may have led to their short life together. They recorded only one album, Growers of Mushroom, which found its first release in on the German-based Telefunken label. Somewhat surprisingly, however, the title track and leadoff track, "Freelance Fiend," were both left off that release. This error was corrected for the October 1971 release by Decca Records, but, by then, Leaf Hound had suffered from various internal problems and already called it a day. The album reportedly took only 11 hours to record in Mayfair's Spot Studios, which may be the reason there's nothing too special about this LP. Nevertheless, it has become a much-sought-after LP by collectors (mint condition copies have reportedly sold for as much as 1,300 dollars). Lead vocalist Peter French -- who went on to form Atomic Rooster and later worked with Cactus and a later lineup of Randy Pie -- is in fine form here, and his scorched-earth screech may even remind some fans of Robert Plant. His cousin, guitarist Mick Halls (who replaced Foghat-bound lead guitarist Rod Price, guitarist in French's earlier group, Black Cat Bones), doesn't have the same guitar prowess that, say, Jimmy Page had at the time, but he's no slouch either, showing considerable skill throughout. Interestingly, the song titles -- like the band's name -- were taken from an anthology of stories by horror author Herbert Van Thal. In 1995, See for Miles released a remastered CD reissue which featured a rarely heard bonus track, "It's Gonna Get Better," the B-side to their only single, "Drowned My Life in Fear"; some versions of the reissue also have "Hipshaker" added as a second bonus track.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:50 (thirteen years ago)
tons of great records posted today. makes me curious about all of the ones I don't know about but it's a lot to digest. when the poll is done seems like it will keep me busy for weeks.
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:53 (thirteen years ago)
but shit, feeding of the 5000, queen ii, motorhead, camembert electrique, live at the witch trials, osmium, in rock... those are all some of my favorite albums by those bands (and of all time too). leafhound has some great riffs too.
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 19:55 (thirteen years ago)
217. JAMES CHANCE & THE CONTORTIONS Buy (1211 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #56 for 1979 , #2941 overall | Acclaimed: #2023http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/132/MI0002132972.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Bohemias are always beset by ambitious neurotics who hawk their obnoxious afflictions as if they're the future of the species, which is why in theory James White's music is better without the words: you get the jagged rhythms and tonic off-harmonies without being distracted by his "ideas." But in fact the music is so (deliberately) stunted it needs a voice for sonic muscle, and James's lyrics do have a certain petty honesty and jerk-off humor. "I Don't Want to Be Happy" should separate the believers from the spectators quite nicely.B+ -- R. ChristgauBuy lacks the jagged edge of the No New York material, but expands the Contortions into a first-class, no-holds-barred act, with every note and vocal oozing out Chance's deranged contempt for man and society in passionately cold renditions of normally pleasant dance music, epitomized by his anthemic "Contort Yourself." -- Trouser Press
Buy lacks the jagged edge of the No New York material, but expands the Contortions into a first-class, no-holds-barred act, with every note and vocal oozing out Chance's deranged contempt for man and society in passionately cold renditions of normally pleasant dance music, epitomized by his anthemic "Contort Yourself." -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Dean McFarlaneIn 1979 the quintessential no wave group released two albums simultaneously; Buy was effectively the Contortions' debut, originally appearing on the indie label ZE, while the same project was released as Off White under the adopted alias of James White, one of the many identities of leader James Chance. the Contortions are considered to be one of the most important and influential groups of the New York no wave scene, which spawned the crazed postmodern persona of James Chance alongside Lydia Lunch, Mars, and DNA, among others. James Chance was a sort of avant lounge lizard personality cult who led numerous projects throughout the '80s, yet he never quite topped the warped distillation of punk, funk, and free jazz presented here, making Buy a pivotal recording of the New York post-punk era. His hybrid of free jazz sax blowing and agitated funk takes the contortions up a notch from the four tracks the band contributed to the Eno-produced No New York compilation, which debuted the furious angular syncopation of transfigured funk and disco rhythms which became the Contortions' signature. Chance's vocals and discordant sax will sound strangely familiar and appealing to fans of early Roxy Music and Television.
In 1979 the quintessential no wave group released two albums simultaneously; Buy was effectively the Contortions' debut, originally appearing on the indie label ZE, while the same project was released as Off White under the adopted alias of James White, one of the many identities of leader James Chance. the Contortions are considered to be one of the most important and influential groups of the New York no wave scene, which spawned the crazed postmodern persona of James Chance alongside Lydia Lunch, Mars, and DNA, among others. James Chance was a sort of avant lounge lizard personality cult who led numerous projects throughout the '80s, yet he never quite topped the warped distillation of punk, funk, and free jazz presented here, making Buy a pivotal recording of the New York post-punk era. His hybrid of free jazz sax blowing and agitated funk takes the contortions up a notch from the four tracks the band contributed to the Eno-produced No New York compilation, which debuted the furious angular syncopation of transfigured funk and disco rhythms which became the Contortions' signature. Chance's vocals and discordant sax will sound strangely familiar and appealing to fans of early Roxy Music and Television.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:00 (thirteen years ago)
216. BRAINTICKET Psychonaut (1214 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #318 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/008/MI0003008085.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7A0GSewTHfstXJ1rBg3lcr
review[-] by Rolf SemprebonPsychonaut is more relaxed and has far less electronic elements than either Brainticket's first record, Cottonwoodhill, or the album that followed, Celestial Ocean. Though the record is more straightforward and song-oriented, it still has progressive and experimental elements that keep it from sounding too much like anything else. If anything, the group is not quite focused on any one style on this record, throwing in everything from the ethnic-influenced folk of "Radagacuca" and "One Morning" to the more traditional strummy folk of "Feel the Wind Blow" to the percussion-heavy avant-funk instrumental "Cocò Mary" to the quirky rock assaults of "Watchin' You" and "Like a Place in the Sun." "Like a Place in the Sun" is particularly effective, with dark spoken word vocals alternating in contrast with the sung chorus of its title. Effects and electronics are used much more subtly (especially compared to the earlier record), but are still quite evident. Psychonaut may not be as cohesive as the other early Brainticket albums, but it is also not as chaotic either, and as such may be the group's most accessible record without sacrificing originality.
Psychonaut is more relaxed and has far less electronic elements than either Brainticket's first record, Cottonwoodhill, or the album that followed, Celestial Ocean. Though the record is more straightforward and song-oriented, it still has progressive and experimental elements that keep it from sounding too much like anything else. If anything, the group is not quite focused on any one style on this record, throwing in everything from the ethnic-influenced folk of "Radagacuca" and "One Morning" to the more traditional strummy folk of "Feel the Wind Blow" to the percussion-heavy avant-funk instrumental "Cocò Mary" to the quirky rock assaults of "Watchin' You" and "Like a Place in the Sun." "Like a Place in the Sun" is particularly effective, with dark spoken word vocals alternating in contrast with the sung chorus of its title. Effects and electronics are used much more subtly (especially compared to the earlier record), but are still quite evident. Psychonaut may not be as cohesive as the other early Brainticket albums, but it is also not as chaotic either, and as such may be the group's most accessible record without sacrificing originality.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:16 (thirteen years ago)
Loving that Leaf Hound record
― Neil S, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:19 (thirteen years ago)
braaaaaainticket
― Heyman (crüt), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:22 (thirteen years ago)
215. MILES DAVIS Dark Magus (1216 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #20 for 1977 , #566 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/523/MI0000523925.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0oNoEAy0RMBOqwRYtkhKRb
The guru-manipulator shifted gears at will in his early-'70s music, orchestrating moods and settings to subjugate the individual musical inspirations of his young close-enough-for-funk subgeniuses to the life of a single palpitating organism that would have perished without them--no arrangements, little composition, and not many solos either, although at any moment a player could find himself left to fly off on his own. Harsher and dreamier than In Concert, louder and sweeter than Agharta or Pangaea, this well-tweaked 1974 concert culminates the aesthetic. Where pure funk subsumes jazz and rock in a new conception, albeit one that privileges rock, Miles leaves the two elements distinct and recognizable. Dave Liebman is good for wild-to-mellow jazz input that's solidified by a Coltranesque house call from Azar Lawrence, and for rock there are three guitarists: Reggie Lucas and Dominique Gaumont wah-riffing the rhythm as Chess session man turned cult hero Pete Cosey launches wah-wah-inflected noise into the arena-rock stratosphere. The beat belongs jointly to Michael Henderson and Al Foster. And Miles is Miles whether blasting out clarion notes or letting his Yamaha drench the scene. A -- R. Christgau
Dark Magus is a live recording of a very specific 1974 Carnegie Hall date that included most, but not all, of the members who recorded the classics Agharta and Pangaea. While drummer Al Foster, bassist Michael Henderson, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Pete Cosey and Reggie Lucas were all present, the key element of Sonny Fortune was not yet in the band. Saxophonists David Liebman and Azar Lawrence were doubling in the saxophone chairs, while Dominique Gaumont, with his Jimi Hendrix-styled effects and riffs, was the band's third guitarist. The deep voodoo funk that gelled on the aforementioned recordings hadn't yet come together on this night at Carnegie, near the end of a tour. Featuring four titles, all of them Swahili names for the numbers one through four, Dark Magus is a jam record. In his liner notes to the CD issue, Liebman explains that this wasn't the band at its best -- perhaps he was referring to his playing, which is certainly unimaginative compared to what the rest of the band is laying down chromatically. By this point, Miles was no longer really rehearsing his bands; they showed up and caught a whiff of what he wanted and went with it. Rhythms, colors, keys -- all of them would shift and change on a whim from Davis. There were no melodies outside of a three-note vamp on "Wili" and a few riff-oriented melodics on "Tatu" -- the rest is all deep rhythm-based funk and dark groove. Greasy, mysterious, and full of menacing energy, Dark Magus shows a band at the end of its rope, desperate to change because the story has torn itself out of the book, but not knowing where to go, turning in on itself. These dynamics have the feel of unresolved, boiling tension. Gaumont's effects-laden guitar playing overshadows the real guitarists in the band: Cosey and his partner, the rhythmically inventive Lucas. Gaumont doesn't fit naturally, so he tries to dazzle his way in -- check the way Miles cuts his solos off so abruptly while letting the others dovetail and segue. Ultimately, Dark Magus is an over-the-top ride into the fragmented mind of Miles and his 1974 band; its rhythm section is the most compelling of any jazz-rock band in history, but the front lines, while captivating, are too loose and uneven to sustain the listener for the entire ride.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:30 (thirteen years ago)
And I'll mention again go vote in POLLIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET (ILM artist poll #32 voting thread)
Anyone going to vote in that poll or am I wasting my time trying to repeatedly drum up support for it?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:33 (thirteen years ago)
you can just vote for upto 20 albums if you are to busy to do tracks ballot or feel overwhelmed by the amount of tracks.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:34 (thirteen years ago)
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:34 (thirteen years ago)
It beat Pangaea
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:37 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, but it should be top ten, at the very least.
(I'm in no position to complain, not having campaigned or voted; I'm just sayin' is all.)
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:38 (thirteen years ago)
although Leaf Hound's Grower or Mushroom is not a better album than Zeppelin III
― Neil S, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
214. TEENAGE JESUS AND THE JERKS Teenage Jesus and the Jerks (1219 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #27 for 1979 , #3613 overallhttp://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/500/50220875/Teenage+Jesus+And+The+Jerks.png
Teenage Jesus pushed the anything-goes/anyone-can-do-it philosophy of punk about as far as it would stretch without breaking. Formed in 1976 by onetime CBGB waitress Lydia Lunch and saxophone/conflict artist James Chance, TJ & the Jerks went beyond minimalism and atonality into what Lunch proudly called "aural terror"; the band cranked up a musical death knell over which she screamed her lyrics of fear, pain and unpleasantness. After Chance quit to form the equally abrasive but funkier Contortions, the Jerks soldiered on as a trio, leaving their sonic bloodbaths on the No New York anthology and the two Bob Quine-produced singles ("Orphans" and "Baby Doll") preserved on the 12-inch pink vinyl 1979 EP. (The group also issued a three-song 12-inch on ZE.) Lydia ranks as one of the most creatively untalented guitarists of all time; her blistering walls of noise, while completely lacking in melody or taste, possess an unremitting atavistic ferocity. Never a band to waste the audience's time, Teenage Jesus specialized in 20-second songs and ten-minute sets (which some witnesses still considered about nine minutes too long.) -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:46 (thirteen years ago)
vicious review
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:49 (thirteen years ago)
yeah, a lot of these rankings are pretty ridiculous
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 20:58 (thirteen years ago)
213. KRAAN Kraan (1242 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #225 for 1972http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZW1mkXsKRQE/TeUFg8pVDcI/AAAAAAAAAOE/SWP4MgjFuBI/s1600/Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/59ch8uEVJZwXykIPJ2zAAn
Kraan's debut is a remarkably original album, that whilst not being overtly weird or experimental, had a groundbreaking original character, especially so for a type of progressive jazz-fusion. Wolbrandt's unusual guitar, Pappert's flowery saxophone, and a most imaginative song style, were all factors. But, more than that, it was their intuitive playing, Arabic textures (witness the extraordinary "Kraan Arabia") blending in a psychedelic spiced fusion, resulting in what was uniquely Kraan. -- Cosmic Egg
This influential German band came together in the South German town of Ulm in 1967 with a meeting between teenagers Hellmut Hattler, Jan Wolbrandt, Jan Friede, and Johannes Pappert. All four had played in local jazz and rock bands, and they enjoyed jamming together on a casual basis. Though they originally played free jazz, they were influenced by Pharaoh Sanders and Frank Zappa and started working on tighter, more structured pieces. After playing on an amateur basis, they decided to get serious about music and moved to the small town of Wintrup, where they lived communally for almost five years. They managed to avoid any kind of steady work, preferring to devote their time to art and film projects and their increasingly tight and professional-sounding band. After considering the name Jack Steam, they named the band Kraan instead. (The name means faucet in Dutch, a fact they were apparently unaware of at the time. It means nothing in German but they liked it because it was easy to remember.) Their eponymous first album was hastily recorded in 1971, and in it the band fuses psychedelia and jazz. Arabic and Eastern European rhythms are integrated seamlessly with funk-rock, and the 18-minute improvisation that takes up half of the album does so without a wasted minute. The combination of soulful, complex instrumental pieces and excellent musicianship was successful, and the album received excellent reviews.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:00 (thirteen years ago)
xp vote splitting at work I suppose, plus the way the number of albums you could vote for was weighted. Means a huge range of stuff gets in, just that "lesser" albums by the big hitters don't do as well...
― Neil S, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:02 (thirteen years ago)
although Leaf Hound's Grower or Mushroom is not a better album than Zeppelin IIIyeah, a lot of these rankings are pretty ridiculous― wk,
― wk,
Wouldn't be an ILM poll without it. There would be more moans of a boring poll if the biggest selling best known canon albums were the top 100.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:03 (thirteen years ago)
yeah, I don't really care, it's just funny. I do think it's more pronounced here than it has been on more general polls in the past.
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:05 (thirteen years ago)
plus we're still so far down the list. I'd imagine that the upper rankings make a little more sense.
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:06 (thirteen years ago)
I dunno i think most ILM polls are like it. God knows what a 60s or a 90s poll would be like
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:09 (thirteen years ago)
but its not really a snapshot of ILM as a whole its just a snapshot of a section who votes. A lot of the big posters who you sorta think defines ILM haven't nominated/voted or even commented. But it does maybe make a more unpredictable poll BUT people seem to like that. It was one of the many things people loved about the 80s poll.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:11 (thirteen years ago)
212. EDDIE HAZEL Games, Dames And Guitar Thangs (1247 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #163 for 1977http://www.silverdisc.com/images/70/725543263216.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5uUtn3Fkr4qWQUpJAmrLEf
Hazel can really flick his pick, and maybe that's the problem: despite a welcome but misleading cover of "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" and the assistance of his cohorts in the Funkadelic rhythm brigade, most of the time you'd think this was a David Spinozza record. Heavy it ain't. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Sean WestergaardFor many years, Eddie Hazel's Game, Dames and Guitar Thangs was a holy grail of sorts for real funkateers, as it was the only thing released under Hazel's name while he was still alive, and it had been out of print for years. Truth be told, the album itself is a bit light. Barely over 30 minutes long, about half of the album consists of two covers (and a reprise), and the other tracks are little more than slightly fleshed-out jam sessions. But what the album lacks in songwriting and original material, Hazel more than makes up for with his guitar playing. The album starts with the most soulful version of "California Dreamin'" you've ever heard. Hazel totally makes the song his own by slowing it down and adding an even more pronounced sense of longing; then there are the wicked molten guitar leads that are alone worth the price of admission. "Frantic Moment" and "So Goes the Story" are little more than jams with some Brides of Funkenstein vocals added (and of course, great guitar), but the epic cover of the Beatles' "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" is just fantastic. "Physical Love" and "What About It?" are solid instrumentals that just let Hazel strut his stuff ("Physical Love" also gives some spotlight to Bernie Worrell) before the reprise of "California Dreamin'" closes the set. Again, what this album lacks in substance it makes up for in performance, and there just isn't enough material that really features Hazel's guitar playing up-front like this. Eddie Hazel was an undeniable guitar genius, but his troubled lifestyle led to a dearth of material that really showed his strengths. Thankfully, this lost classic is available again, putting some spotlight back on a pioneering and under-recognized guitar great.
For many years, Eddie Hazel's Game, Dames and Guitar Thangs was a holy grail of sorts for real funkateers, as it was the only thing released under Hazel's name while he was still alive, and it had been out of print for years. Truth be told, the album itself is a bit light. Barely over 30 minutes long, about half of the album consists of two covers (and a reprise), and the other tracks are little more than slightly fleshed-out jam sessions. But what the album lacks in songwriting and original material, Hazel more than makes up for with his guitar playing. The album starts with the most soulful version of "California Dreamin'" you've ever heard. Hazel totally makes the song his own by slowing it down and adding an even more pronounced sense of longing; then there are the wicked molten guitar leads that are alone worth the price of admission. "Frantic Moment" and "So Goes the Story" are little more than jams with some Brides of Funkenstein vocals added (and of course, great guitar), but the epic cover of the Beatles' "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" is just fantastic. "Physical Love" and "What About It?" are solid instrumentals that just let Hazel strut his stuff ("Physical Love" also gives some spotlight to Bernie Worrell) before the reprise of "California Dreamin'" closes the set. Again, what this album lacks in substance it makes up for in performance, and there just isn't enough material that really features Hazel's guitar playing up-front like this. Eddie Hazel was an undeniable guitar genius, but his troubled lifestyle led to a dearth of material that really showed his strengths. Thankfully, this lost classic is available again, putting some spotlight back on a pioneering and under-recognized guitar great.
biography[-] by Jason BirchmeierA mythical figure, original Funkadelic guitarist Eddie Hazel pioneered an innovative funk-metal sound in the early '70s, best exemplified on his mammoth classic instrumental jam "Maggot Brain." This mythological status arises from his brief, mysterious era of productivity, a shadowy three-album cycle capped by Maggot Brain that came to a close as Hazel's notorious drug problems began to haunt him, resulting in personal disputes with George Clinton, a jail sentence, and ultimately his slow death to liver failure. Yet even though Hazel's notable accomplishments are few -- reserved mostly to the first three Funkadelic albums, a 1977 solo album, and legendary live performances -- these accomplishments were highly influential. At the time, Hazel seemed a clear successor to the deceased Jimi Hendrix, one of the few black guitar players merging an acid rock approach with an R&B aesthetic. Furthermore, Hazel took things a step further, integrating a heavy dose of funk into his fiery guitar work as well, setting the precedent for successive Parliament/Funkadelic guitarists, as well as later generations of funk-metal guitarists.Though born in Brooklyn on April 10, 1950, Eddie Hazel grew up outside the city in Plainfield, NJ, since his mother, Grace Cook, didn't want her son growing up in a negative, drug-littered environment (though, ironically, Plainfield wasn't much better in regard to drugs). While his mother commuted back and forth to Brooklyn to work as a silk presser, the young Eddie spent most of his time playing the guitar his brother had bought for him as a Christmas gift. In addition to his self-trained guitar playing, Eddie also sang in church and eventually met Billy "Bass" Nelson when he was only 12 -- the two instantly began playing together, teaching each other to sing and play guitar. Once they met up with yet another local youth, drummer Harvey McGee, they began jamming together as a trio, trying to learn all the early-'60s Motown hits.In 1967, another much more established Plainfield group, the Parliaments, had suddenly found themselves experiencing a considerable level of success and wanted to mount a tour. They needed a backing band, though, and looked to Nelson for help. Unfortunately, Hazel was nowhere to be found, supposedly in Newark, NJ, working with producer George Blackwell. When Nelson returned from a short summer tour in August, the first thing he did was hunt down Hazel in hopes of beefing up the Parliaments' rhythm section. There was one problem, though -- Eddie's mother. She wasn't crazy about the idea of letting her 17-year-old son head out on a tour with George Clinton's ensemble of wild musicians. Yet after a little begging and some convincing on both Clinton's and Nelson's part, Ms. Cook agreed to let her son follow his ambitions.the Parliaments went back on tour in September 1967, with Nelson and Hazel anchoring the rhythm section. In Philadelphia during a show at the Uptown Theater, Hazel met Tiki Fulwood, who was the Uptown's house drummer. The two instantly became close friends, going out partying after the show together. Furthermore, since both Nelson and Hazel were unhappy with their drummer at the time, they argued with Clinton about replacing the Parliaments' inadequate drummer with Fulwood. By the time they left Philadelphia, the Nelson/Hazel/Fulwood rhythm section was finally in place, a tight squad that spawned Funkadelic.In essence, Funkadelic was just a continuation of the Parliaments. With group member Calvin Simon gone off to the war, and with Hazel and Fulwood now in the group, the Parliaments abandoned their uniforms, donned extravagant costumes or street clothes, and began playing increasingly rock-influenced music driven by Hazel's dirty fuzz tone and Hendrix-influenced acid rock approach. The change to Funkadelic then became official with the introduction of Tawl Ross on rhythm guitar and Bernie Worrell on keyboards, resulting in a series of three landmark albums: the group's self-titled debut (1970), Free Your Mind...and Your Ass Will Follow (1970), and Maggot Brain (1971).Maggot Brain ended up being one of the group's more essential albums, thanks primarily to Hazel's guitar playing. In particular, the title track has become his legacy, an epic instrumental piece fashioned as an emotive eulogy that has become a perennial staple of the group's live shows over the decades. The song's origins are supposedly rooted in a recording session where Clinton told Hazel to envision the saddest thought possible, his mother's death, and use that vision as inspiration. Other myths involve Hazel's voracious drug intake, a characteristic that led to the nickname "Maggot Brain." Either way, the song made Hazel famous and secured his legacy for successive decades.Unfortunately, following Hazel's most promising moment and greatest accomplishment to date, his career began descending quickly. It's no secret that the early Funkadelic lineup suffered through drug problems during this early-'70s era, as first Ross was ousted from the group for his increasing LSD-related unreliability. Soon after, Clinton became equally frustrated with Hazel's and Fulwood's growing drug abuse, often cutting off their pay so that they wouldn't go spend it on illicit substances. These problems most obviously came to light on the follow-up to Maggot Brain, 1972's America Eats Its Young, where Hazel's role was minimal. Furthermore, the guitarist began working with fellow Detroiters the Temptations instead, contributing guitar and songwriting to Zoom (1973) and Song for You (1975).Hazel's drug abuse problems finally caught up with him in 1974, with an indictment resulting from an airline incident that involved him assaulting a stewardess. In his absence, Clinton integrated the potent duo of Garry Shider and Ron Brylowski into Funkadelic, and later Michael Hampton (a young guitar prodigy who caught the band's attention by playing a note-for-note rendition of "Maggot Brain" at a party in Cleveland). Hazel returned from exile for 1974's Standing on the Verge of Getting It On, with strong guitar contributions and co-writing credits with George Clinton on several songs, but by the next album (Let's Take It to the Stage), Hazel was taking a secondary role to the new roster of Parliament/Funkadelic guitarists.Game, Dames and Guitar ThangsWhile Hazel's role in Parliament/Funkadelic had diminished by the late '70s, Clinton did grant him the opportunity to record a solo album for Warner Brothers, 1977's Games, Dames and Guitar Things. The album featured covers of "California Dreamin'" and "I Want You (She's So Heavy)," along with a few songs written by Clinton and Bootsy Collins. The nine songs all prominently feature Hazel's lead guitar work, along with a considerable amount of backing vocals courtesy of the Brides of Funkenstein. Incredibly rare and highly collectable for years as a vinyl-only release, the album remains one of the better P-Funk albums of the late '70s, highlighted by its guitar-heavy sound.Following this album, Hazel continued to play with Clinton in successive years, but his contributions were never major, and he slowly descended further into oblivion, eventually suffering from chronic stomach problems and ultimately dying on December 23, 1992, from internal bleeding and liver failure. In the wake of his death, two posthumous collections of unreleased material were released. Jams From the Heart surfaced first in 1994, a brief four-song EP that eventually was eclipsed by a second import release, 2000's Rest in P. This latter collection compiled the material from Jams From the Heart along with a few other leftovers dug up from the vaults. In 2004 Rhino Homemade finally reissued Games, Dames and Guitar Things, appending the Jams From the Heart EP as an added bonus.
A mythical figure, original Funkadelic guitarist Eddie Hazel pioneered an innovative funk-metal sound in the early '70s, best exemplified on his mammoth classic instrumental jam "Maggot Brain." This mythological status arises from his brief, mysterious era of productivity, a shadowy three-album cycle capped by Maggot Brain that came to a close as Hazel's notorious drug problems began to haunt him, resulting in personal disputes with George Clinton, a jail sentence, and ultimately his slow death to liver failure. Yet even though Hazel's notable accomplishments are few -- reserved mostly to the first three Funkadelic albums, a 1977 solo album, and legendary live performances -- these accomplishments were highly influential. At the time, Hazel seemed a clear successor to the deceased Jimi Hendrix, one of the few black guitar players merging an acid rock approach with an R&B aesthetic. Furthermore, Hazel took things a step further, integrating a heavy dose of funk into his fiery guitar work as well, setting the precedent for successive Parliament/Funkadelic guitarists, as well as later generations of funk-metal guitarists.Though born in Brooklyn on April 10, 1950, Eddie Hazel grew up outside the city in Plainfield, NJ, since his mother, Grace Cook, didn't want her son growing up in a negative, drug-littered environment (though, ironically, Plainfield wasn't much better in regard to drugs). While his mother commuted back and forth to Brooklyn to work as a silk presser, the young Eddie spent most of his time playing the guitar his brother had bought for him as a Christmas gift. In addition to his self-trained guitar playing, Eddie also sang in church and eventually met Billy "Bass" Nelson when he was only 12 -- the two instantly began playing together, teaching each other to sing and play guitar. Once they met up with yet another local youth, drummer Harvey McGee, they began jamming together as a trio, trying to learn all the early-'60s Motown hits.In 1967, another much more established Plainfield group, the Parliaments, had suddenly found themselves experiencing a considerable level of success and wanted to mount a tour. They needed a backing band, though, and looked to Nelson for help. Unfortunately, Hazel was nowhere to be found, supposedly in Newark, NJ, working with producer George Blackwell. When Nelson returned from a short summer tour in August, the first thing he did was hunt down Hazel in hopes of beefing up the Parliaments' rhythm section. There was one problem, though -- Eddie's mother. She wasn't crazy about the idea of letting her 17-year-old son head out on a tour with George Clinton's ensemble of wild musicians. Yet after a little begging and some convincing on both Clinton's and Nelson's part, Ms. Cook agreed to let her son follow his ambitions.the Parliaments went back on tour in September 1967, with Nelson and Hazel anchoring the rhythm section. In Philadelphia during a show at the Uptown Theater, Hazel met Tiki Fulwood, who was the Uptown's house drummer. The two instantly became close friends, going out partying after the show together. Furthermore, since both Nelson and Hazel were unhappy with their drummer at the time, they argued with Clinton about replacing the Parliaments' inadequate drummer with Fulwood. By the time they left Philadelphia, the Nelson/Hazel/Fulwood rhythm section was finally in place, a tight squad that spawned Funkadelic.
In essence, Funkadelic was just a continuation of the Parliaments. With group member Calvin Simon gone off to the war, and with Hazel and Fulwood now in the group, the Parliaments abandoned their uniforms, donned extravagant costumes or street clothes, and began playing increasingly rock-influenced music driven by Hazel's dirty fuzz tone and Hendrix-influenced acid rock approach. The change to Funkadelic then became official with the introduction of Tawl Ross on rhythm guitar and Bernie Worrell on keyboards, resulting in a series of three landmark albums: the group's self-titled debut (1970), Free Your Mind...and Your Ass Will Follow (1970), and Maggot Brain (1971).Maggot Brain ended up being one of the group's more essential albums, thanks primarily to Hazel's guitar playing. In particular, the title track has become his legacy, an epic instrumental piece fashioned as an emotive eulogy that has become a perennial staple of the group's live shows over the decades. The song's origins are supposedly rooted in a recording session where Clinton told Hazel to envision the saddest thought possible, his mother's death, and use that vision as inspiration. Other myths involve Hazel's voracious drug intake, a characteristic that led to the nickname "Maggot Brain." Either way, the song made Hazel famous and secured his legacy for successive decades.
Unfortunately, following Hazel's most promising moment and greatest accomplishment to date, his career began descending quickly. It's no secret that the early Funkadelic lineup suffered through drug problems during this early-'70s era, as first Ross was ousted from the group for his increasing LSD-related unreliability. Soon after, Clinton became equally frustrated with Hazel's and Fulwood's growing drug abuse, often cutting off their pay so that they wouldn't go spend it on illicit substances. These problems most obviously came to light on the follow-up to Maggot Brain, 1972's America Eats Its Young, where Hazel's role was minimal. Furthermore, the guitarist began working with fellow Detroiters the Temptations instead, contributing guitar and songwriting to Zoom (1973) and Song for You (1975).
Hazel's drug abuse problems finally caught up with him in 1974, with an indictment resulting from an airline incident that involved him assaulting a stewardess. In his absence, Clinton integrated the potent duo of Garry Shider and Ron Brylowski into Funkadelic, and later Michael Hampton (a young guitar prodigy who caught the band's attention by playing a note-for-note rendition of "Maggot Brain" at a party in Cleveland). Hazel returned from exile for 1974's Standing on the Verge of Getting It On, with strong guitar contributions and co-writing credits with George Clinton on several songs, but by the next album (Let's Take It to the Stage), Hazel was taking a secondary role to the new roster of Parliament/Funkadelic guitarists.
Game, Dames and Guitar ThangsWhile Hazel's role in Parliament/Funkadelic had diminished by the late '70s, Clinton did grant him the opportunity to record a solo album for Warner Brothers, 1977's Games, Dames and Guitar Things. The album featured covers of "California Dreamin'" and "I Want You (She's So Heavy)," along with a few songs written by Clinton and Bootsy Collins. The nine songs all prominently feature Hazel's lead guitar work, along with a considerable amount of backing vocals courtesy of the Brides of Funkenstein. Incredibly rare and highly collectable for years as a vinyl-only release, the album remains one of the better P-Funk albums of the late '70s, highlighted by its guitar-heavy sound.
Following this album, Hazel continued to play with Clinton in successive years, but his contributions were never major, and he slowly descended further into oblivion, eventually suffering from chronic stomach problems and ultimately dying on December 23, 1992, from internal bleeding and liver failure. In the wake of his death, two posthumous collections of unreleased material were released. Jams From the Heart surfaced first in 1994, a brief four-song EP that eventually was eclipsed by a second import release, 2000's Rest in P. This latter collection compiled the material from Jams From the Heart along with a few other leftovers dug up from the vaults. In 2004 Rhino Homemade finally reissued Games, Dames and Guitar Things, appending the Jams From the Heart EP as an added bonus.
Track Listing:California Dreamin' {John Phillips, Michelle Phillips} 6:16Frantic Moment {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:42So Goes The Story {G Clinton, W Collins} 3:55I Want You (She's So Heavy) {John Lennon, Paul McCartney} 9:25Physical Love {W Collins, G Clinton, Gary Cooper, Garry Shider} 5:32What About It? {Eddie Hazel, G Clinton} 3:46California Dreamin' (reprise) {J Phillips, M Phillips} 1:30Personnel: "California Dreamin'"Lead vocal and guitar: Eddie Hazel "Frantic Moment"Lead guitar: Eddie Hazel "So Goes The Story"Lead Guitar: Eddie Hazel "I Want You (She's So Heavy)"Lead guitar: Eddie Hazel "Physical Love"Lead guitar: Eddie HazelSecond lead guitar: Garry Shider "What About It?" Lead guitars: Eddie Hazel and Michael HamptonProducer: Eddie Hazel, George ClintonGuitars: Eddie Hazel, Mike Hampton, Garry Shider, Glenn GoinsKeyboards: Bernie Worrell (except on "I Want You" where Doug Duffey plays piano) Drums: Jerome Brailey, Bootsy Collins, Tiki FulwoodBass: Bootsy Collins, Billy "Bass" Nelson, Cordell MossonBackground Vocals: Lynn Mabry, Dawn Silva, Gary CooperRating: RC: ****Comments:RC: Even though the album 'concept' here is exceedingly thin, and many of the tracks were simply recycled from other places, it doesn't matter: I still love this album. I am a huge Eddie Hazel fan, and this album allows him to really show his chops and even sing a bit, which he didn't do much of after the first few Funkadelic albums. With only six songs, the album is designed to provide a basic framework for Eddie to do a lot of soloing. This is especially true of the album's covers. The shorter songs are typical P.Funk songs which focus straight on Eddie."California Dreamin'" is a brilliant opus that has an amazing amount of funky balance. Eddie's spacey-sounding guitar is in effect, and it matches perfectly with Boogie's solid bass playing, Bernie's keyboards, Jerome's frantic drumming, and the background vocals from the Brides. "Frantic Moment" is a slow tune that starts off with some weird, almost backward-sounding guitar. The guitar line is simple and clean, with the Brides singing lead throughout. This may have been written for their first album originally. "So Goes The Story" is a hot song with Bootsy's slap bass leading a frantic pace. The great percussion also sets up the spaces for Eddie's amazing solos throughout the song. "I Want You" is a Beatles cover that works very well. The bassline is excellent and upfront, with the Brides again doing most of the lead vocals. Eddie's guitar covers the solos and the melody. "Physical Love" is really the same song that appears on Bootsy's first album, only with Eddie's guitar turned up higher. This is probably the least interesting thing here. "What About It?" can be heard on Volume II of the George Clinton Family Series, as the background to "Clone Communicado". It's a super heavy guitar piece, with more spacey guitar and a funky little riff attached to it. It's a great instrumental. The reprise is very brief and actually focuses on the bass more than anything.This album is out of print and very rare. A copy could cost you anywhere from $20-80. The cover is amazing, a collage of Eddie with his Gibson in one hand and a sword in the other, riding a horse in a sort of outer-space environment. This is a definite 'holy grail' type item for P.Funk collectors. If you see it, snatch it up; you may never see it again.
California Dreamin' {John Phillips, Michelle Phillips} 6:16Frantic Moment {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:42So Goes The Story {G Clinton, W Collins} 3:55I Want You (She's So Heavy) {John Lennon, Paul McCartney} 9:25Physical Love {W Collins, G Clinton, Gary Cooper, Garry Shider} 5:32What About It? {Eddie Hazel, G Clinton} 3:46California Dreamin' (reprise) {J Phillips, M Phillips} 1:30
Personnel:
"California Dreamin'"Lead vocal and guitar: Eddie Hazel
"Frantic Moment"Lead guitar: Eddie Hazel
"So Goes The Story"Lead Guitar: Eddie Hazel
"I Want You (She's So Heavy)"Lead guitar: Eddie Hazel
"Physical Love"Lead guitar: Eddie HazelSecond lead guitar: Garry Shider
"What About It?" Lead guitars: Eddie Hazel and Michael Hampton
Producer: Eddie Hazel, George ClintonGuitars: Eddie Hazel, Mike Hampton, Garry Shider, Glenn GoinsKeyboards: Bernie Worrell (except on "I Want You" where Doug Duffey plays piano) Drums: Jerome Brailey, Bootsy Collins, Tiki FulwoodBass: Bootsy Collins, Billy "Bass" Nelson, Cordell MossonBackground Vocals: Lynn Mabry, Dawn Silva, Gary Cooper
RC: Even though the album 'concept' here is exceedingly thin, and many of the tracks were simply recycled from other places, it doesn't matter: I still love this album. I am a huge Eddie Hazel fan, and this album allows him to really show his chops and even sing a bit, which he didn't do much of after the first few Funkadelic albums. With only six songs, the album is designed to provide a basic framework for Eddie to do a lot of soloing. This is especially true of the album's covers. The shorter songs are typical P.Funk songs which focus straight on Eddie.
"California Dreamin'" is a brilliant opus that has an amazing amount of funky balance. Eddie's spacey-sounding guitar is in effect, and it matches perfectly with Boogie's solid bass playing, Bernie's keyboards, Jerome's frantic drumming, and the background vocals from the Brides. "Frantic Moment" is a slow tune that starts off with some weird, almost backward-sounding guitar. The guitar line is simple and clean, with the Brides singing lead throughout. This may have been written for their first album originally. "So Goes The Story" is a hot song with Bootsy's slap bass leading a frantic pace. The great percussion also sets up the spaces for Eddie's amazing solos throughout the song. "I Want You" is a Beatles cover that works very well. The bassline is excellent and upfront, with the Brides again doing most of the lead vocals. Eddie's guitar covers the solos and the melody. "Physical Love" is really the same song that appears on Bootsy's first album, only with Eddie's guitar turned up higher. This is probably the least interesting thing here. "What About It?" can be heard on Volume II of the George Clinton Family Series, as the background to "Clone Communicado". It's a super heavy guitar piece, with more spacey guitar and a funky little riff attached to it. It's a great instrumental. The reprise is very brief and actually focuses on the bass more than anything.
This album is out of print and very rare. A copy could cost you anywhere from $20-80. The cover is amazing, a collage of Eddie with his Gibson in one hand and a sword in the other, riding a horse in a sort of outer-space environment. This is a definite 'holy grail' type item for P.Funk collectors. If you see it, snatch it up; you may never see it again.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:16 (thirteen years ago)
Someone should tell Jason Birchmeier who "Grace Cook" was that wrote a lot of the mid-period funkadelic.
Moron
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:18 (thirteen years ago)
and good point about eddie hardly singing. Super Stupid was a great vocal.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:21 (thirteen years ago)
Last one for night coming up
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:28 (thirteen years ago)
211. MAGMA Attahk (1249 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #230 for 1978http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/444/MI0002444359.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4GjXWMgS712Es433VY5nDq
The democratic musical direction of Udü Wüdü was short-lived, as Vander took complete control of the band in 1977 ? to the point that it may as well have been his solo project. ForAttahk, he drafted an almost completely new ensemble of players to bring forth a new Magma sound that threw many fans for a loop. "The Last Seven Minutes" is a fusion-disco burner that, while hardly lacking energy, had little in common with the ominous minor-key overtures of a few years earlier. The song gave Vander an excuse to display his considerable drumming abilities, as well as being an extended platform for some very uninhibited falsetto. Attahk, which applies that template to funk, slow-jam ballads and gospel (!), is surprisingly good, if now obviously dated. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Dominique LeoneAfter Üdü Wüdü, Magma disbanded for a time, only to reconvene a year later under a slightly different direction than before. While drummer Christian Vander had maintained general leadership of the band since the early '70s, this new phase of Magma could almost be considered a Vander solo project. His interest in funk, R&B, gospel, and pop would come to the fore, and similar to many of his prog rock and jazz fusion peers, he would mold the band's sound into something with crossover appeal. The music on this album is brighter than the previous album, emphasizing rhythm, lead vocals, and bright, fusion-informed basslines rather than murky group vocals or extended zeuhl suites. Fans of the earlier material tend to criticize this album for its lack of a "traditional" zeuhl sound in favor of a funk/fusion/zeuhl hybrid. While it is markedly different than the preceding albums, it is one of the most exciting and certainly one of the most accessible. "The Last Seven Minutes" is burning zeuhl-funk, with some of Vander's most explosive drumming on record. Although they weren't singing about interplanetary war anymore (but were singing in "Kobaian"), the bandmembers never lost their intensity. This is getting closer to hard-edged fusion à la groups such as Mahavishnu Orchestra and Return to Forever, but nothing that features Vander's idiosyncratic wail is going to sound derivative. Similarly, "Dondaï" might be a pleasant, unaffecting funk ballad from anyone else, but from Magma it sounds at once magical and silly. In truth, this is calm by Magma's standards, and for a while the group actually seemed willing to present relatively straightforward music.
After Üdü Wüdü, Magma disbanded for a time, only to reconvene a year later under a slightly different direction than before. While drummer Christian Vander had maintained general leadership of the band since the early '70s, this new phase of Magma could almost be considered a Vander solo project. His interest in funk, R&B, gospel, and pop would come to the fore, and similar to many of his prog rock and jazz fusion peers, he would mold the band's sound into something with crossover appeal. The music on this album is brighter than the previous album, emphasizing rhythm, lead vocals, and bright, fusion-informed basslines rather than murky group vocals or extended zeuhl suites. Fans of the earlier material tend to criticize this album for its lack of a "traditional" zeuhl sound in favor of a funk/fusion/zeuhl hybrid. While it is markedly different than the preceding albums, it is one of the most exciting and certainly one of the most accessible. "The Last Seven Minutes" is burning zeuhl-funk, with some of Vander's most explosive drumming on record. Although they weren't singing about interplanetary war anymore (but were singing in "Kobaian"), the bandmembers never lost their intensity. This is getting closer to hard-edged fusion à la groups such as Mahavishnu Orchestra and Return to Forever, but nothing that features Vander's idiosyncratic wail is going to sound derivative. Similarly, "Dondaï" might be a pleasant, unaffecting funk ballad from anyone else, but from Magma it sounds at once magical and silly. In truth, this is calm by Magma's standards, and for a while the group actually seemed willing to present relatively straightforward music.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:30 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:41 (thirteen years ago)
New schedule for rollout.Thurs 211-186Fri 185-161Sat 160-141Sun 140-121Mon 120-91Tues 90-61Weds 60-31Thurs 30-1
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 21:44 (thirteen years ago)
Sorry I disappeared, a bit under the weather. That Magma cover art is amazing. It's definitely time to listen to some Magma. The Brainticket album is good, impressed to see it got 12 votes.
Keep in mind that many people, like myself, factored in heaviosity for this poll, so I didn't vote for Led Zep III given the fact that that it's mostly acoustic! It's definitely a schizo poll given the the mix of funk and schmoove soul like Shuggie, but it's cool! Hell, with all the great new discoveries, best damn 70s poll ever!
― Fastnbulbous, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 22:15 (thirteen years ago)
Glad you're another one discovering lots of new things.
Anybody got any favourite new albums they've discovered?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 22:40 (thirteen years ago)
Attack! awesome. I'm just going to pretend the poll stops there haha
― wk, Wednesday, 20 March 2013 22:44 (thirteen years ago)
hah. You never know what might turn up
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 00:26 (thirteen years ago)
― Heyman (crüt), Wednesday, March 20, 2013 8:22 PM (Yesterday) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
Crüt OTM.
― emil.y, Thursday, 21 March 2013 02:00 (thirteen years ago)
my favorite new song is "Munchies for Your Love"
― Mordy, Thursday, 21 March 2013 03:44 (thirteen years ago)
He Miss Road, Deep Purple in Rock & Buy the Contortions: all votes by me.
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Thursday, 21 March 2013 04:12 (thirteen years ago)
discoveries: german oak, far east family band, the shuggie stuff
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 05:23 (thirteen years ago)
co-sign on that Far East Family Band. I'd also not heard Speed, Glue and Shinky or Blues Creation so far as Japanese weird rock goes.
― Neil S, Thursday, 21 March 2013 09:37 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, all the Japanese stuff is new to me, I've heard one Flower Travellin' Band album before and that's it - and like you said yesterday, a surprising amount of it is on Spotify. I gave the Far East Family Band one a go last night, that was pretty good. I count about 90 other albums on here I want to check out so that's a lot of listening over the next few weeks.
― Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 21 March 2013 09:59 (thirteen years ago)
xps "Munchies For your Love" is awesome, yeah! Coincidentally I was talking about P-funk in the pub last night; my mate, who's just discovering all this stuff, was saying that he doesn't rate bootsy's albums as much as parliament because "they always have a couple of upbeat funky tracks followed by some boring ballads" I was like "bbut 'Munchies'!"
I really thought dark magus would be higher! That was my #3. People complaining that this poll is too cold, but that group burns with the heat of a thousand fucking suns. I also thought ilx would have the contortions higher. Can't wait to see what's gonna make the 100.
1st big discovery: Slave!
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, 21 March 2013 10:14 (thirteen years ago)
I could never really get into the second disc of Dark Magus, maybe I need to give it another go.
― Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 21 March 2013 10:24 (thirteen years ago)
Hang on, I'm thinking of Live-Evil... No, Dark Magus I just struggled with in general!
― Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 21 March 2013 10:27 (thirteen years ago)
right Dark Magus here I come!
Gavin, worth noting NickB's reservations upthread about the versions of the Japanese psych stuff on Spotify, it looks like essentially bootlegged versions of the albums in question which is not cool. Then the q becomes where to actually listen to them without spending £200 on original vinyl, of course.
― Neil S, Thursday, 21 March 2013 10:39 (thirteen years ago)
Ok, I missed NickB's comment. Ah that's really crap.
― Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 21 March 2013 10:44 (thirteen years ago)
Maybe the more people listen to it, the more the guy behind it will get his arse sued off him one day? Anyhow, pisses me off how the RIAA will go after small-time downloaders while flagrant fucking pirates like this go about their business in broad daylight. Assuming it is the same dude of course.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 10:56 (thirteen years ago)
But most of all, let's have some legit re-issues please, for the love of god someone.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 10:58 (thirteen years ago)
It's because the legalities are 'vague' in these cases, whereas d/l can have their cases proven easily by comparison.
Just like small-scale benefit fraud gets stomped, whereas small-scale tax evasion is too complicated to pursue cost-effectively.
― Mark G, Thursday, 21 March 2013 11:00 (thirteen years ago)
(I thought the RIAA were more pursuing small-to-medium-scale uploaders rather than d/ls)
Yeah, that's probably all true
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 11:06 (thirteen years ago)
see also Amoeba's efforts to digitise orphan (and not-so-orphan) vinyl obscurities:http://boingboing.net/2013/02/04/vinyl-vault-lights-fuse-on-cop.html
― Neil S, Thursday, 21 March 2013 11:07 (thirteen years ago)
This seems thread-pertinent. Any love for Camel?http://www.barbican.org.uk/music/event-detail.asp?ID=14826
― Neil S, Thursday, 21 March 2013 13:19 (thirteen years ago)
210. RAMONES Rocket To Russia (1256 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #8 for 1977 , #232 overall | Acclaimed: #315 | RS: #105 | Pitchfork: #59http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/023/MI0002023378.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3SBh2kzao9z3gLCzOV45ho
Having revealed how much you can take out and still have rock and roll, they now explore how much you can put back in and still have Ramones. Not that they've returned so very much--a few relatively obvious melodies, a few relatively obvious vocals. But that's enough. Yes, folks, there's something for everyone on this ready-made punk-rock classic. Stoopidity, both celebrated and satirized. Love (thwarted) and social protest (they would seem to oppose DDT). Inspired revivals (the Trashmen) and banal cover versions (Bette Midler and Cass Elliott beat them to "Do You Wanna Dance?"). And, for their record company and the ears of the world, an actual potential hit. If "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker" was the most significant number eighty-four in history, what will "Rockaway Beach" do for number twenty? (Did I hear five?) A -- R. ChristgauRocket to Russia is the culmination of the Ramones' primal approach. Virtually all fourteen tracks (including ideally chosen golden oldies "Do You Wanna Dance?" and "Surfin' Bird") are well-honed in execution, arrangement and songwriting wit. Clean production streamlines toe-tappers like "Cretin Hop," "Teenage Lobotomy" and "Rockaway Beach," and emphasizes Joey's increasingly expressive singing on two ballads, "I Don't Care" and "I Wanna Be Well." The LP also contains the Ramones' naïve first attempt at a hit single, "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker." -- Trouser PressRocket to Russia is the best American rock & roll of the year and possibly the funniest rock album ever made. Not that the Ramones are a joke -- they're more worthwhile than almost anything that's more self-conscious because they exist in a pure and totally active state.Rocket shows substantial progress in the group's sound -- it has opened up so that hints of Beach Boys harmonies float among the power chords, kind of like moving with the Who from My Generation to Happy Jack. Certainly, there is nothing resembling the lock step of the first two albums holding them back. The guitars still riff relentlessly, but they are freer within the murky sound, and the songs give them much more to work with. It is some kind of tribute to suggest that the least effective songs on the album are the oldies, "Do You Wanna Dance" and "Surfin' Bird." And if this is a hilarious album, it is also astute: "We're a Happy Family" and "Why Is It Always This Way" are extremely funny just to the extent that the situations are horribly typical.Despite the title, the Ramones aren't about escape. Reductionist aggression never is -- conquest is more like it. And if you're alienated by it, that's because you're supposed to be. The Ramones explore the dirty truths that pop music and rock designed to "entertain" have to cover up. This is truly the land of "No Fun" -- none asked for, none given. Just action, constant and unyielding, pleasant or miserable.Most contemporary music -- yeah, even the New Wave stuff -- asks why we've slowed down or complains about the fact. The Ramones consider this irrelevant. The question they pose is more interesting: why can't you keep up? I dare you to try. -- Dave Marsh, RS
Rocket to Russia is the culmination of the Ramones' primal approach. Virtually all fourteen tracks (including ideally chosen golden oldies "Do You Wanna Dance?" and "Surfin' Bird") are well-honed in execution, arrangement and songwriting wit. Clean production streamlines toe-tappers like "Cretin Hop," "Teenage Lobotomy" and "Rockaway Beach," and emphasizes Joey's increasingly expressive singing on two ballads, "I Don't Care" and "I Wanna Be Well." The LP also contains the Ramones' naïve first attempt at a hit single, "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker." -- Trouser Press
Rocket to Russia is the best American rock & roll of the year and possibly the funniest rock album ever made. Not that the Ramones are a joke -- they're more worthwhile than almost anything that's more self-conscious because they exist in a pure and totally active state.
Rocket shows substantial progress in the group's sound -- it has opened up so that hints of Beach Boys harmonies float among the power chords, kind of like moving with the Who from My Generation to Happy Jack. Certainly, there is nothing resembling the lock step of the first two albums holding them back. The guitars still riff relentlessly, but they are freer within the murky sound, and the songs give them much more to work with. It is some kind of tribute to suggest that the least effective songs on the album are the oldies, "Do You Wanna Dance" and "Surfin' Bird." And if this is a hilarious album, it is also astute: "We're a Happy Family" and "Why Is It Always This Way" are extremely funny just to the extent that the situations are horribly typical.
Despite the title, the Ramones aren't about escape. Reductionist aggression never is -- conquest is more like it. And if you're alienated by it, that's because you're supposed to be. The Ramones explore the dirty truths that pop music and rock designed to "entertain" have to cover up. This is truly the land of "No Fun" -- none asked for, none given. Just action, constant and unyielding, pleasant or miserable.
Most contemporary music -- yeah, even the New Wave stuff -- asks why we've slowed down or complains about the fact. The Ramones consider this irrelevant. The question they pose is more interesting: why can't you keep up? I dare you to try. -- Dave Marsh, RS
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineThe Ramones provided the blueprint and Leave Home duplicated it with lesser results, but the Ramones' third album, Rocket to Russia, perfected it. Rocket to Russia boasts a cleaner production than its predecessors, which only gives the Ramones' music more force. It helps that the group wrote its finest set of songs for the album. From the mindless, bopping opening of "Cretin Hop" and "Rockaway Beach" to the urban surf rock of "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker" and the ridiculous anthem "Teenage Lobotomy," the songs are teeming with irresistibly catchy hooks; even their choice of covers, "Do You Want to Dance?" and "Surfin' Bird," provide more hooks than usual. the Ramones also branch out slightly, adding ballads to the mix. Even with these (relatively) slower songs, the speed of the album never decreases. However, the abundance of hooks and slight variety in tempos makes Rocket to Russia the Ramones' most listenable and enjoyable album -- it doesn't have the revolutionary impact of The Ramones, but it's a better album and one of the finest records of the late '70s.
The Ramones provided the blueprint and Leave Home duplicated it with lesser results, but the Ramones' third album, Rocket to Russia, perfected it. Rocket to Russia boasts a cleaner production than its predecessors, which only gives the Ramones' music more force. It helps that the group wrote its finest set of songs for the album. From the mindless, bopping opening of "Cretin Hop" and "Rockaway Beach" to the urban surf rock of "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker" and the ridiculous anthem "Teenage Lobotomy," the songs are teeming with irresistibly catchy hooks; even their choice of covers, "Do You Want to Dance?" and "Surfin' Bird," provide more hooks than usual. the Ramones also branch out slightly, adding ballads to the mix. Even with these (relatively) slower songs, the speed of the album never decreases. However, the abundance of hooks and slight variety in tempos makes Rocket to Russia the Ramones' most listenable and enjoyable album -- it doesn't have the revolutionary impact of The Ramones, but it's a better album and one of the finest records of the late '70s.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 14:00 (thirteen years ago)
Listening to Cheap Trick for the first time in my adult life (saw them do a concert @ Rockpalast on German TV when I was a child, all I really remember was the Jonathan King-looking dude on guitar). It's pretty good, feel like all of a sudden I actually understand what Urge Overkill were going for. Guided By Voices must have been big fans too amirite?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 14:04 (thirteen years ago)
209. OHIO PLAYERS Skin Tight (1258 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #315 for 1974http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/579/MI0001579696.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7nmpLxK95gLIqphEfATqZy
Alternate title: Shoogity-Boogity. B -- R. Christgau Alternate name: Gobert Shitegau
reviewby Alex HendersonSkin Tight was a major turning point for the Ohio Players, who had enjoyed several hits on black radio (including "Pain," "Funky Worm," "Varee Is Love," and "I Wanna Hear From You") but hadn't been huge. Switching from Westbound to Mercury, the Dayton funksters became exactly that -- huge -- and went from enjoying a cult following to being one of the most celebrated funk bands of the 1970s. With Skin Tight, the band's erotic album covers went from employing bizarre S&M/bondage imagery to being more Playboy-ish, and its music became less abstract (but remained quite risk-taking and unpredictable). The title song and "Jive Turkey" are down and dirty funk classics, and the jazz-influenced "Heaven Must Be Like This" illustrates the fact that the Players could also be captivatingly romantic.
Skin Tight was a major turning point for the Ohio Players, who had enjoyed several hits on black radio (including "Pain," "Funky Worm," "Varee Is Love," and "I Wanna Hear From You") but hadn't been huge. Switching from Westbound to Mercury, the Dayton funksters became exactly that -- huge -- and went from enjoying a cult following to being one of the most celebrated funk bands of the 1970s. With Skin Tight, the band's erotic album covers went from employing bizarre S&M/bondage imagery to being more Playboy-ish, and its music became less abstract (but remained quite risk-taking and unpredictable). The title song and "Jive Turkey" are down and dirty funk classics, and the jazz-influenced "Heaven Must Be Like This" illustrates the fact that the Players could also be captivatingly romantic.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 14:22 (thirteen years ago)
With reviews like that please explain why xgau is held in such high regard?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 14:32 (thirteen years ago)
208. SLY & THE FAMILY STONE Fresh (1261 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #96 for 1973 , #2619 overall | Acclaimed: #608http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/388/MI0002388022.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6QOAySLjRI73U0ZDKnDs0V
Now that the truncated rhythms of Sly's post-dance-to-the-music have become the stomping ground of War (heavy) and Stevie Wonder (bubbling over), Sly takes the lyrics into middle-Dylan territory, exploiting his own genius for hook phrases--"in time," "thankful n' thoughtful," "babies makin' babies"--only to fasten a superabundance of elusive images to a jagged groove. Many of the songs turn in on themselves--one vaguely inspirational number ends with a derisive "cha-cha-cha"--as Sly's vocals shift in tone, texture, and volume and the extra percussion and repeating horn riffs accentuate the music's brutally staccato effect. He seems willing once more to sing of love and fun, of gratitude and the great circle of life, but he also equates his legendary tardiness with his legendary self-destructiveness and comments on his inaccessibility as decisively as is appropriate. Plus a great twist in Sly's relationship with the white power structure: a cover of "Que Sera, Sera." A -- R. Christgau
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineFresh expands and brightens the slow grooves of There's a Riot Goin' On, turning them, for the most part, into friendly, welcoming rhythms. There are still traces of the narcotic haze of Riot, particularly on the brilliant, crawling inversion of "Que Sera, Sera," yet this never feels like an invitation into a junkie's lair. Still, this isn't necessarily lighter than Riot -- in fact, his social commentary is more explicit, and while the music doesn't telegraph his resignation the way Riot did, it comes from the same source. So, Fresh winds up more varied, musically and lyrically, which may not make it as unified, but it does result in more traditional funk that certainly is appealing in its own right. Besides, this isn't conventional funk -- it's eccentric, where even concise catchy tunes like "If You Want Me to Stay" seem as elastic as the opener, "In Time." That's the album's ultimate charm -- it finds Sly precisely at the point where he's balancing funk and pop, about to fall into the brink, but creating an utterly individual album that wound up being his last masterwork and one of the great funk albums of its era.
Fresh expands and brightens the slow grooves of There's a Riot Goin' On, turning them, for the most part, into friendly, welcoming rhythms. There are still traces of the narcotic haze of Riot, particularly on the brilliant, crawling inversion of "Que Sera, Sera," yet this never feels like an invitation into a junkie's lair. Still, this isn't necessarily lighter than Riot -- in fact, his social commentary is more explicit, and while the music doesn't telegraph his resignation the way Riot did, it comes from the same source. So, Fresh winds up more varied, musically and lyrically, which may not make it as unified, but it does result in more traditional funk that certainly is appealing in its own right. Besides, this isn't conventional funk -- it's eccentric, where even concise catchy tunes like "If You Want Me to Stay" seem as elastic as the opener, "In Time." That's the album's ultimate charm -- it finds Sly precisely at the point where he's balancing funk and pop, about to fall into the brink, but creating an utterly individual album that wound up being his last masterwork and one of the great funk albums of its era.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 14:45 (thirteen years ago)
Voted for Shoogity-Boogity, great album. I need more Ohio Players!
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, 21 March 2013 14:48 (thirteen years ago)
everyone needs more Ohio Players!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 14:55 (thirteen years ago)
these albums should be top 100!
207. OHIO PLAYERS Pain (1266 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #546 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/031/MI0000031993.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5McVTnhmFrq1hbC2L8LgFL
review[-] by Alex HendersonCreatively, commercially, and conceptually, Pain was a major step forward for the Ohio Players. This 1971 album was quite a departure from their previous work -- in the late-'60s, the Midwesterners' forte had been raw, hard-edged Southern-style soul along the lines of Sam & Dave, Rufus Thomas, and Wilson Picket. But with Pain, they became a lot more experimental and unveiled an interesting, distinctive brand of funk that incorporated elements of jazz and blues as well as rock. The jazz influence is especially strong on "Never Had a Dream," "Singing in the Morning," and the hit title song, while "The Reds" is a progressive blues number that draws on jazz as well as psychedelic rock. It was with Pain, the Players' first album for Westbound, that they unveiled their goofy Granny character, which the funksters continued to have fun with on their subsequent Westbound releases but discontinued when they moved to Mercury with 1974's Skin Tight. And it was with Pain that they became famous (some would say infamous) for their erotic LP covers. Employing S&M/bondage imagery, Pain's front cover was considered shocking in 1971. Although the Velvet Underground had written songs about S&M, and the British spy thriller The Avengers frequently hinted at kinky sex -- Diana Rigg's Emma Peel character often dressed like a dominatrix -- S&M and fetishism were very taboo subjects for Middle America in 1971. And not surprisingly, some retailers refused to carry Pain. But the album, although not huge, was a decent seller. With Pain, the Ohio Players' Westbound period was off to an impressive and creative start.
Creatively, commercially, and conceptually, Pain was a major step forward for the Ohio Players. This 1971 album was quite a departure from their previous work -- in the late-'60s, the Midwesterners' forte had been raw, hard-edged Southern-style soul along the lines of Sam & Dave, Rufus Thomas, and Wilson Picket. But with Pain, they became a lot more experimental and unveiled an interesting, distinctive brand of funk that incorporated elements of jazz and blues as well as rock. The jazz influence is especially strong on "Never Had a Dream," "Singing in the Morning," and the hit title song, while "The Reds" is a progressive blues number that draws on jazz as well as psychedelic rock. It was with Pain, the Players' first album for Westbound, that they unveiled their goofy Granny character, which the funksters continued to have fun with on their subsequent Westbound releases but discontinued when they moved to Mercury with 1974's Skin Tight. And it was with Pain that they became famous (some would say infamous) for their erotic LP covers. Employing S&M/bondage imagery, Pain's front cover was considered shocking in 1971. Although the Velvet Underground had written songs about S&M, and the British spy thriller The Avengers frequently hinted at kinky sex -- Diana Rigg's Emma Peel character often dressed like a dominatrix -- S&M and fetishism were very taboo subjects for Middle America in 1971. And not surprisingly, some retailers refused to carry Pain. But the album, although not huge, was a decent seller. With Pain, the Ohio Players' Westbound period was off to an impressive and creative start.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:00 (thirteen years ago)
Really like Skin Tight, never heard Pain but that review makes it sound interesting.
― Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:05 (thirteen years ago)
A lot of people prefer the Westbound era albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:13 (thirteen years ago)
206. DR. JOHN In The Right Place (1277 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #263 for 1973http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/659/MI0001659894.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1b1ljTXAkcugOLAHkIi7Eq
A meaningful title. Fifteen years ago, sweet-and-dirty New Orleans jive conveyed the same wry rebelliousness that Dr. John's night-tripping hoodoo did ten years later. These days he's purveying fifteen-year-old New Orleans jive himself, last time with his own band and classic songs, this time with a classic band--the Meters--and his own songs. Last time worked better, but producer Allen Toussaint, whose "Life" sounds terrific b/w Dr. John's own rakish "Such a Night," gets this one over. B+ -- R. Christgau
reviewby James ChrispellDr. John finally struck paydirt here and was certainly In the Right Place. With the hit single "Right Place Wrong Time" bounding up the charts, this fine collection saw many unaware listeners being initiated into New Orleans-style rock. Also including Allen Toussaint's "Life," and a funky little number entitled "Traveling Mood," which shows off the good doctor's fine piano styling, and with able help from the Meters as backup group, In the Right Place is still a fine collection to own.
Dr. John finally struck paydirt here and was certainly In the Right Place. With the hit single "Right Place Wrong Time" bounding up the charts, this fine collection saw many unaware listeners being initiated into New Orleans-style rock. Also including Allen Toussaint's "Life," and a funky little number entitled "Traveling Mood," which shows off the good doctor's fine piano styling, and with able help from the Meters as backup group, In the Right Place is still a fine collection to own.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:20 (thirteen years ago)
Ah, sends me back to listening to the US singles chart on Radio Luxembourg.
― Mark G, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:21 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah, Bob Stewart: Wiki page has it all there.. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radio_Luxembourg_(English)#1968.E2.80.931988
― Mark G, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:23 (thirteen years ago)
Don't know this album, only Dr John I have is Gris-Gris, Desitively & the most recent one. Dr John + The Meters is an enticing proposition I must say!
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:26 (thirteen years ago)
I remember Atlantic 252 for some reason but cant remember why
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:30 (thirteen years ago)
205. MONTROSE Montrose (1281 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #59 for 1973 , #1685 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/948/MI0001948278.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2amSBnQhrVdXM6QJK2KBSE
Ex-Edgar Winter guitarist Ronnie Montrose's new power trio (plus singer) is a potentially scorching outfit. Montrose is the star and plays Jeff Beck-oriented music, with nods to other great leads. His performances have not yet reached the height of his sources, but he uses his talent to best possible advantage throughout. For example, "Rock the Nation" is a solid slice of Johnny Winter's style, done with Top Ten possibilities; "Space Station No. 5" combines Hendrix and the Led Zeppelin of "Communication Breakdown"; "Rock Candy" combines both Zeppelin and Beck's Beck-Ola style. And yet, for all its derivativeness, the band wraps the music up in a convincingly entertaining package. With Stray Dog and the fiery new Kiss, they prove there's no lack of rookie talent in this year's heavy-metal sweepstakes. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSYippeeee! Crotch rock is back. Yup, that super heavy, ear splitting, distorted, wunnerful stuff that makes you double over in sheer rock and roll ecstasy when you hear it. Ex-Edgar Winter guitarist Ronnie Montrose has assembled a band that sounds like Mt. Vesuvius at a New Year's party... pretty explosive. The drums quake like thunder, the guitar like a jet plane, the bass cuts the air like a dull butter knife and the vocals are raw as hell. The whole thing is a metallic exercise in plodding, avalanche rock and proves to be quite a head throbbing treat. Throw away dem acoustic guitars and plug into this one. -- Ed Naha, Circus,
Yippeeee! Crotch rock is back. Yup, that super heavy, ear splitting, distorted, wunnerful stuff that makes you double over in sheer rock and roll ecstasy when you hear it. Ex-Edgar Winter guitarist Ronnie Montrose has assembled a band that sounds like Mt. Vesuvius at a New Year's party... pretty explosive. The drums quake like thunder, the guitar like a jet plane, the bass cuts the air like a dull butter knife and the vocals are raw as hell. The whole thing is a metallic exercise in plodding, avalanche rock and proves to be quite a head throbbing treat. Throw away dem acoustic guitars and plug into this one. -- Ed Naha, Circus,
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaThe '70s gave us a slew of classic hard rock albums -- the likes of which may never be equaled -- and though it hasn't had the lasting influence of, say, Boston's or Ted Nugent's first albums, Montrose's eponymous debut proved equally influential and important in its day. Released in 1973, the record also introduced a young Sammy Hagar to the world, but the explosive aggression of Ronnie Montrose's biting guitar left no doubt as to why it was his name gracing the cover. A rock-solid rhythm section featuring drummer Denny Carmassi and bassist Bill Church certainly didn't hurt, either, and unstoppable anthems such as "Rock the Nation" and "Good Rockin' Tonight" would lay the ground rules for an entire generation of late-'70s California bands, most notably Van Halen. Admittedly, tracks like "Make It Last" and "I Don't Want It" sound rather dated by today's sonic standards (no thanks to their ultra-silly lyrics), but no amount of time can dim the sheer euphoria of "Bad Motor Scooter," the adolescent nastiness of "Rock Candy," and the simply gargantuan main riff of the phenomenal "Space Station #5." A welcome addition to any respectable '70s hard rock collection.
The '70s gave us a slew of classic hard rock albums -- the likes of which may never be equaled -- and though it hasn't had the lasting influence of, say, Boston's or Ted Nugent's first albums, Montrose's eponymous debut proved equally influential and important in its day. Released in 1973, the record also introduced a young Sammy Hagar to the world, but the explosive aggression of Ronnie Montrose's biting guitar left no doubt as to why it was his name gracing the cover. A rock-solid rhythm section featuring drummer Denny Carmassi and bassist Bill Church certainly didn't hurt, either, and unstoppable anthems such as "Rock the Nation" and "Good Rockin' Tonight" would lay the ground rules for an entire generation of late-'70s California bands, most notably Van Halen. Admittedly, tracks like "Make It Last" and "I Don't Want It" sound rather dated by today's sonic standards (no thanks to their ultra-silly lyrics), but no amount of time can dim the sheer euphoria of "Bad Motor Scooter," the adolescent nastiness of "Rock Candy," and the simply gargantuan main riff of the phenomenal "Space Station #5." A welcome addition to any respectable '70s hard rock collection.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:31 (thirteen years ago)
never heard any Montrose, sounds like it's worth a listen
― Neil S, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:33 (thirteen years ago)
I have that Dr John on vinyl, it's got a pretty wacked-out gatefold:
http://ring.cdandlp.com/electricmelody/photo_grande/115178352.jpg
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:34 (thirteen years ago)
Nice. I just have the cd.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:37 (thirteen years ago)
204. RAINBOW Rising (1289 Points, 11 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #4 for 1976 , #245 overall | Acclaimed: #1690http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/937/MI0002937956.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3gsCg5XVJnAp5mLblhIUtP
From Deep Purple's earliest recordings to this second album with his solo group, there's no mistaking a record, in which Ritchie Blackmore is involved. Here, abetted by lyricist/vocalist Ronnie Dio, guitarist/composer Blackmore continues to lord over his perculiarly dark corner of the universe. The problem compounded on both Rainbow albums by the lyrics, lies in the listener's and Blackmore/Dio's reality. Evil is the prominent subject, but what's portrayed is either too ambiguous (the apparently diabolical wizard in "Stargazer") or too mundane (the autograph-hunting groupie in "Starstruck") to merit attention.Blackmore's songs have a predilection for minor modes and simple riffs punctuated predictably and often with syncopated power chording; the result is disjointed, grandiose and humorless--a gothic heavy-metal style.Dio is certainly the match for Blackmore, in both his relentlessly impassioned warbling vocals and his lyrics, which uncover apocalypse at every turn. "There's a hole in the sky / Something evil'spassing by" Dio spits and snarls, but what he is describing is usually called spring fever. Even after Blackmore mounts the most successful musical attack of the album, replete with Who-like slashing power chords, all Dio can muster --albeit with exceptional angst--is: "Do you close your eyes / When you're making love?" If this is the denouement, what's all the fuss about?Blackmore's guitar soloing has always been the saving grace of his compositions. He has full-bodied, fluid style, most effectively displayed here on "A Light in the Black," and he can stutter and wail with the best blues-rock guitarists. Unfortunately, on Rising the setting is too distracting. In a less gloomily banal context, his playing might shine. -- Robert Duncan, RS
Blackmore's songs have a predilection for minor modes and simple riffs punctuated predictably and often with syncopated power chording; the result is disjointed, grandiose and humorless--a gothic heavy-metal style.
Dio is certainly the match for Blackmore, in both his relentlessly impassioned warbling vocals and his lyrics, which uncover apocalypse at every turn. "There's a hole in the sky / Something evil'spassing by" Dio spits and snarls, but what he is describing is usually called spring fever. Even after Blackmore mounts the most successful musical attack of the album, replete with Who-like slashing power chords, all Dio can muster --albeit with exceptional angst--is: "Do you close your eyes / When you're making love?" If this is the denouement, what's all the fuss about?
Blackmore's guitar soloing has always been the saving grace of his compositions. He has full-bodied, fluid style, most effectively displayed here on "A Light in the Black," and he can stutter and wail with the best blues-rock guitarists. Unfortunately, on Rising the setting is too distracting. In a less gloomily banal context, his playing might shine. -- Robert Duncan, RS
reviewby Geoff GinsbergOn their second release, Rainbow not only avoid the sophomore jinx; they hit a home run. After replacing the entire band (except Ronnie James Dio) immediately following the recording of the first album, Ritchie Blackmore and the Rising lineup (Blackmore; Dio; Tony Carey, keys; Jimmy Bain, bass; and the late, great Cozy Powell, drums) had plenty of time on the road touring the first album to get the chops and material together for their second. In particular, "Stargazer" really came together on the 1975 tour and featured stunning keyboard work from Carey. The material is uniformly strong, with "Starstruck" and "A Light in the Black" standing out in particular. Ronnie Dio turns in a great vocal on the stunningly direct (under three minutes!) "Do You Close Your Eyes." All six songs on the album are up there with anything the band has done, before or since. The playing has a very tight, colorful feel to it, which was lacking a bit on the first record. This album can legitimately be mentioned in the same breath as classic Deep Purple.
On their second release, Rainbow not only avoid the sophomore jinx; they hit a home run. After replacing the entire band (except Ronnie James Dio) immediately following the recording of the first album, Ritchie Blackmore and the Rising lineup (Blackmore; Dio; Tony Carey, keys; Jimmy Bain, bass; and the late, great Cozy Powell, drums) had plenty of time on the road touring the first album to get the chops and material together for their second. In particular, "Stargazer" really came together on the 1975 tour and featured stunning keyboard work from Carey. The material is uniformly strong, with "Starstruck" and "A Light in the Black" standing out in particular. Ronnie Dio turns in a great vocal on the stunningly direct (under three minutes!) "Do You Close Your Eyes." All six songs on the album are up there with anything the band has done, before or since. The playing has a very tight, colorful feel to it, which was lacking a bit on the first record. This album can legitimately be mentioned in the same breath as classic Deep Purple.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:45 (thirteen years ago)
Placed about right...
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:47 (thirteen years ago)
lol not a comment one usually sees in these polls
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:53 (thirteen years ago)
I love how the RS reviewer is put off by all that doom, gloom and evil nonsense, ha ha ha.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 15:54 (thirteen years ago)
203. VARIOUS ARTISTS No New York (1296 Points, 10 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #55 for 1978 , #2142 overall | Acclaimed: #2249http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/275/MI0002275991.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
And so it was with the avant-garde no wave wing of New York City's punk scene in the late '70s. The small coterie of bands (as institutionalized on Brian Eno's No New Yorkcompilation, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Mars, the Contortions and DNA) that formed a rebellion inside the greater rebellion pulled like an undertow against the hipster punk rock realm, instantly belittling into relative mundanity those who had rejected mainstream music only to accept its ingenious Bowery variants. The distance from ELP's uber-technique to Talking Heads' tensed weirdness telescoped to an inch when measured against Arto Lindsay's frenzied guitar scrabblings and incomprehensible yelps. The no wavers raised the admission fee to coolville by throwing away all the rules, challenging the in crowd to make itself inner. Song structure? Fuck all that reactionary bullshit. Melody? Please! Who needs it? Lyrics of graspable consequence? Think your own damn thoughts! 4/4 rock drumming? Leave that for the retards unable to escape their white-skin privilege and imperialist upbringing. Instead, the no wave made with unrestricted id, pure expression of the blurt, laying implicit claim to the supreme concept of free jazz and the unassailable black groove cool of hard funk. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Todd KristelAfter seeing a series of benefit shows held for the Artist's Space in Soho, producer Brian Eno convinced Island Records to release an anthology album featuring several bands from New York's experimental no wave scene of the late 1970s. He reportedly considered ten groups for the album: the Contortions, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Mars, DNA, Theoretical Girls with Glenn Branca, the Gynecologists with Rudolph Grey, Tone Death with Rhys Chatahm, Boris Police Band, who used police radio calls for vocals, Red Transistor, and Terminal. The final album, however, featured four bands performing four songs each and was released on Antilles, a sub-label of Island. The first band on the album, the Contortions, play dissonant funk-punk that melds Albert Ayler, the Stooges, and James Brown with shouted vocals, slashing guitar solos, open-tuned slide guitar chords, hammered Acetone organ, steady basslines, and soul-influenced drumming. All four of their selections are strong, including "Flip Your Face," which Steve Albini once cited as his all-time favorite song. Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, a group of art and music hangers-on led by songwriter/vocalist Lydia Lunch, is perhaps the least accessible band on the album; the squalling, droning, abrasive way that Lunch and her bandmates put across lyrics such as "personality down the drain/after all who needs a brain" and "the dishes are cracked/the forks are plastic/the food is in cellophane/I puke elastic" makes it unclear if she is baring the darkest corners of her soul or trying to put one over on the audience. Mars creates interesting music out of apparent chaos; the vocals are babbled and the guitars, bass and drums sound like they're weaving in and out of the song while going in several different directions at once, yet the band is oddly compelling in its crazed, cacophonous way. The fourth band, D.N.A., features Arto Lindsay's bluesy vocals and seemingly uncontrolled bursts of guitar, as he rakes his strings and refuses to play conventional chords; the trio, which also includes keyboardist Robin Crutchfield and drummer Ikue Ile, create the most engaging music in the collection other than the opening numbers by the Contortions. Some listeners may be fascinated by the music on No New York while others may find it unbearable; in either case, this seminal album remains the definitive document of New York's no wave movement.
After seeing a series of benefit shows held for the Artist's Space in Soho, producer Brian Eno convinced Island Records to release an anthology album featuring several bands from New York's experimental no wave scene of the late 1970s. He reportedly considered ten groups for the album: the Contortions, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Mars, DNA, Theoretical Girls with Glenn Branca, the Gynecologists with Rudolph Grey, Tone Death with Rhys Chatahm, Boris Police Band, who used police radio calls for vocals, Red Transistor, and Terminal. The final album, however, featured four bands performing four songs each and was released on Antilles, a sub-label of Island. The first band on the album, the Contortions, play dissonant funk-punk that melds Albert Ayler, the Stooges, and James Brown with shouted vocals, slashing guitar solos, open-tuned slide guitar chords, hammered Acetone organ, steady basslines, and soul-influenced drumming. All four of their selections are strong, including "Flip Your Face," which Steve Albini once cited as his all-time favorite song. Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, a group of art and music hangers-on led by songwriter/vocalist Lydia Lunch, is perhaps the least accessible band on the album; the squalling, droning, abrasive way that Lunch and her bandmates put across lyrics such as "personality down the drain/after all who needs a brain" and "the dishes are cracked/the forks are plastic/the food is in cellophane/I puke elastic" makes it unclear if she is baring the darkest corners of her soul or trying to put one over on the audience. Mars creates interesting music out of apparent chaos; the vocals are babbled and the guitars, bass and drums sound like they're weaving in and out of the song while going in several different directions at once, yet the band is oddly compelling in its crazed, cacophonous way. The fourth band, D.N.A., features Arto Lindsay's bluesy vocals and seemingly uncontrolled bursts of guitar, as he rakes his strings and refuses to play conventional chords; the trio, which also includes keyboardist Robin Crutchfield and drummer Ikue Ile, create the most engaging music in the collection other than the opening numbers by the Contortions. Some listeners may be fascinated by the music on No New York while others may find it unbearable; in either case, this seminal album remains the definitive document of New York's no wave movement.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:00 (thirteen years ago)
So we're leaving it up to the voters to mention if they placed an album at the top of their ballot. The person who had Rainbow Rising as their #1 is welcome to say something about it, whether it be about the music or a personal story about why that album is important to them.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:01 (thirteen years ago)
NNY is brilliant, but I've only managed to listen to the whole thing in one uninterrupted sitting a couple times.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:03 (thirteen years ago)
Are these last two the first albums to have #1 votes?
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:06 (thirteen years ago)
These are the only ones to get #1 votes so far:
ROD STEWART Every Picture Tells A StoryPERE UBU Terminal TowerBOSTON Boston RAINBOW Rising VARIOUS ARTISTS No New York
And it's never too late to say something about any album in the rollout.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:07 (thirteen years ago)
202. SUBWAY SECT We Oppose All Rock & Roll (1297 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #319 for 1996http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z_zxgpylE4A/UJldbNliMKI/AAAAAAAAD6s/2jpsnJAZnqM/s1600/R-1695909-1237542910.jpeg
Although the Subway Sect shared stages with the Clash, Sex Pistols and Buzzcocks as far back as 1976, the group's debut vinyl was a 1978 single; their first longplayer didn't follow until two years later. (The Sect did record an album in '78 for Clash manager Bernard Rhodes, but it was never released. As a result, Bristol-born singer-songwriter-arranger Vic Godard broke up the band, and original drummer Mark Laff joined Generation X.)By 1980, the Sect had reformed (at least once). Several of these early hard guitar-pop incarnations are chronicled on A Retrospective, which consists of two singles and a radio broadcast from '78, a cut from that lost LP plus a 1981 45 side. The evidence is plain that the early Subway Sect had incorporated a strong Buzzcocks influence (plus flashes of Lou Reed and Television), and that Godard was a talented musician slowly fashioning an identity.By the time they finally got to make an album, the Sect had again been revamped and was serving merely as a backing band for Godard, who had developed into a skillful vocalist with a budding predilection for folky, low-key, non-aggressive ? hell, non-rock! ? music. -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:15 (thirteen years ago)
finding this poll fun in a diff way than the 80s poll. my nose was close to the ground during the 80s so I didn't have too many discoveries during the rollout, it was like seeing a bunch of old (tho underrated) friends.
70s rollout is throwing up a lot more stuff I haven't heard so I'm desperately trying to keep up w/ results and failing. dug the mother's leaf and would def rather listen to that than expose myself to led zep III. also can't believe I've gotten this far in life without hearing shuggie otis' original version of "strawberry letter 23".
this poll is like an alternate history of the decade, I'm ignoring all the crit-fave shit (even the stuff I voted for) and not worrying to much about rankings, just following the weird wonderland logic of it all...
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:16 (thirteen years ago)
Always nice to read that people are enjoying the poll and discovering great new albums to them.
Makes it all worthwhile.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:21 (thirteen years ago)
deffo enjoying it too, thanks for your and FnB's efforts thus far!
EIII do you object to Led Zeppelin on ideological grounds (when cock rock monsters ruled the earth etc. etc.) or are you just not keen on the music? Or both/neither?
― Neil S, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:24 (thirteen years ago)
I'll throw a TOO LOW @ rainbow rising, that's one of my fave proto-metal records of the decade, up there w/ sad wings of destiny and paranoid. dio back when he had something to prove, blackmore is a fountain of cool riffs, keyboards that actually add atmosphere instead of stinking up the joint, and cozy powell is such a stately f'kn drummer.
here's an early rough mix of "stargazer" for giggles
http://youtu.be/Y6IPBN6ARkE
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:25 (thirteen years ago)
201. KRAAN Wintrup (1298 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #203 for 1973http://www.recordsale.de/cdpix/k/kraan-wintrup(1).jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3KAH13Dv70cr4kSxTxQrvn
Their second album WINTRUP, named after their new home, was a much calmer light-hearted album, more song-based yet still eclectically Kraan. And a fusion of the styles of both those albums lead to the more developed sound of ANDY NOGGER and LIVE (a double album recorded in Berlin's "Quartier Latin") which gained Kraan the chance to tour Britain. -- Cosmic Egg
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:35 (thirteen years ago)
Holy shit, I know the band a little, but I have never seen that cover before. Amazing!
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:38 (thirteen years ago)
xp to neil, I listened to a lot of led zep when I was younger but unlike a lot of other bands I dug at the time (maiden, priest, floyd, sabbath), they just never connected on a very deep level and I don't get much out of returning to the records. I guess it's partly ideological, but being massive unit movers (in more than one sense) isn't the issue or I'd prolly dislike the stones, too. can I just cheat and repost responses from one of the many zep vs sabbath threads? cool, thx for understanding....
hard rock/metal is a multi-facted genre, and led zep successfully embodied almost every existing impulse; the guitar god, ersatz bloozmen, thudding knuckledraggers, stoner jamz, proggy wankfest showoffs, 4 on the floor bar rock, hippy dippy flower child folk, pseudo eastern psychobabble, I'm a double-cocked loverman baby, olde english stylee mythology, satanic mysticism. they're like the collective unconscious of rock.
I voted for sabbath.
― Edward III, Friday, January 18, 2008 10:28 AM (5 years ago)
see I think there's some class narrative underpinning a lot of the pro-Sabbath sentiment here (thickskulled blue collar vs. thieving aristocracy --> "fuck those rich snooty nancy boys!") that I don't really give a shit about. the personalities and narratives/mythologies behind the bands don't really matter so much to me, particularly since we're ostensibly comparing a specific set of recordings.
― Shakey Mo Collier, Friday, January 18, 2008 2:10 PM (5 years ago)
these narratives are embedded in the recordings themselves. my reactions to the records were forged in my preteen metal mind, and it was only later (much much later) that I understood how my reactions were byproducts of picking up on the signifiers. zep's records have ornamental, byzantine qualities, a regal sense of endowment and bounty; that doesn't really grab me aesthetically. sabbath's grubby myopia which miraculously never stops giving, well, it's like black magic, something that grew out of the earth. I still love those records after all these years and a million plays.
on the other hand, it's hard for me to make it all the way through a zep record without thinking "y'know, robert plant is a cock of the third order" a couple dozen times.
― Edward III, Friday, January 18, 2008 2:28 PM (5 years ago)
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:43 (thirteen years ago)
Are we ready for THE TOP 200?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:43 (thirteen years ago)
200. STRAY Stray (1301 Points, 8 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #42 for 1970 , #1132 overallhttp://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7JgzyAO3i08/ToCiMBHoqcI/AAAAAAAAAs4/AsA9N1u9mpo/s1600/Front+Cover+copy.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/4Jcb24GgY7xVYps4W2DzUU
Signed to a contract way back in 1966 as young teenagers on the strength of precocious musical talent rivaling Free, Stray have plenty of experience with mod and psychedelia. On their debut album, they nod to their past with the rocking ?Only What You Make It? and the psychedelic pop of ?Around The World In Eighty Days.? But it?s the sprawling proto-metal of the 9:23 opener ?All In Your Mind? that prompted Pentagram to cite them as an influence. Iron Maiden would later record that song as a B-side. The band is tight and cohesive despite exploring additional genres like prog, jazz fusion and Hawkwind-like space rock. Some of their more driving moments even remind me of some early MC5, but more musically diverse and complex. The 2006 reissues of this and Saturday Morning Pictures (1972) are widely available, but for some reason Suicide is hard to find. The closing title-track features some scorching Del Bromham guitar solos resembling Sir Lord Baltimore. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaBecause they were merely precocious teenagers when they'd been signed to a recording contract in the late '60s, the Stray (as they were originally known) probably experienced the golden era of British rock in all of its kaleidoscopic, Sgt. Peppers-powered glory, even more intensely than most. As such, they quickly progressed beyond their Brit blues and mod-ish beginnings to dabble in acid rock and psychedelia before diving more permanently into the nascent progressive and hard rock movements. It is clearly the latter two styles that inform the core of their eclectic eponymous debut from 1970, and especially its sprawling, nine-and-a-half minute opener, "All in Your Mind." Building slowly at first, the song gradually sprouts into an insistently driving juggernaut offering ample opportunities for guitarist Del Bromham to showcase his wah-wah intensive solo flights, and to introduce the quartet's penchant for singing in harmonic unison. As with most of the album's other heavy rockers ("Taking All the Good Things," the Hawkwind-like "Only What You Make It," etc.), we're talking about weight streaked with softer dynamics and stylistic variety, on par with the parallel work of the Groundhogs or Pink Fairies -- but not single-minded riff leviathans like Black Sabbath or earliest Budgie -- although, curiously, shades of the latter's lighter, more explorative mid-'70s material do crop up in mellower tracks like the mildly exotic "Around the World in 80 Days" (featuring a mournful Spanish guitar figure) and the sultry grooves of "Yesterday's Promises." The H.G. Wells-inspired "Time Machine," in particular, collects an astonishing array of unrelated genres (folky acoustic guitars, handclaps, chucka-wucka guitars, etc.) but then so does "Move On," with its kinetic, funk-meets-jazz-meets-proto-metal mishmash, and LP closer "In Reverse/Some Say," with its tightly executed fuzz rock jam. Along with most everything found on Stray's fascinating first album, these songs' rampant diversity suggest a far more seasoned and experienced group of musicians than the 18- and 19-year-olds involved -- impressive!
Because they were merely precocious teenagers when they'd been signed to a recording contract in the late '60s, the Stray (as they were originally known) probably experienced the golden era of British rock in all of its kaleidoscopic, Sgt. Peppers-powered glory, even more intensely than most. As such, they quickly progressed beyond their Brit blues and mod-ish beginnings to dabble in acid rock and psychedelia before diving more permanently into the nascent progressive and hard rock movements. It is clearly the latter two styles that inform the core of their eclectic eponymous debut from 1970, and especially its sprawling, nine-and-a-half minute opener, "All in Your Mind." Building slowly at first, the song gradually sprouts into an insistently driving juggernaut offering ample opportunities for guitarist Del Bromham to showcase his wah-wah intensive solo flights, and to introduce the quartet's penchant for singing in harmonic unison. As with most of the album's other heavy rockers ("Taking All the Good Things," the Hawkwind-like "Only What You Make It," etc.), we're talking about weight streaked with softer dynamics and stylistic variety, on par with the parallel work of the Groundhogs or Pink Fairies -- but not single-minded riff leviathans like Black Sabbath or earliest Budgie -- although, curiously, shades of the latter's lighter, more explorative mid-'70s material do crop up in mellower tracks like the mildly exotic "Around the World in 80 Days" (featuring a mournful Spanish guitar figure) and the sultry grooves of "Yesterday's Promises." The H.G. Wells-inspired "Time Machine," in particular, collects an astonishing array of unrelated genres (folky acoustic guitars, handclaps, chucka-wucka guitars, etc.) but then so does "Move On," with its kinetic, funk-meets-jazz-meets-proto-metal mishmash, and LP closer "In Reverse/Some Say," with its tightly executed fuzz rock jam. Along with most everything found on Stray's fascinating first album, these songs' rampant diversity suggest a far more seasoned and experienced group of musicians than the 18- and 19-year-olds involved -- impressive!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:45 (thirteen years ago)
Listening to Lula Côrtes e Zé Ramalho for the first time, not really got anything much to say about it but hey, what an excellent record. The freak-out bits are a lot fiercer than I was expecting and the gentler passages are really very lovely indeed. Cool stuff, thank you sage electorate for throwing that one up.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:46 (thirteen years ago)
xp to EIII gotcha, thanks, was just curious. FWIW I would vote Sabbath too, though I do really like a couple of Zeppelin records.
― Neil S, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:47 (thirteen years ago)
I voted for "black dog" in the tracks poll tho, so obv I'm not a fanatic about it, but if every copy of every led zep album ever produced mysteriously + simultaneously burst into flame I'd shed no tears
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:47 (thirteen years ago)
^same here except I keep thinking that one day zep will click for me
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:49 (thirteen years ago)
Personally I could never choose between Zep and Sabbath. I do tend to prefer bands influenced by Sabbath rather than Zep though (with some exceptions like Jane's Addiction or Stone Roses 2nd album for example)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:49 (thirteen years ago)
Anyway that Stray album is essential and a fine start to the 200.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:53 (thirteen years ago)
I've been playing that Stray record for friends who haven't heard it before - the reactions I get are priceless - handclapping, air guitar, and singing along (once they've heard the lyric or have manually moved a track back, just to they can enjoy it again). It's such a fun record (in my opinion a bit top-loaded, I had it at #28 in my ballot, and I kinda wished I knocked it down a few - esp. seeing how low the Coop rekkids placed ;-) ... ).
― BlackIronPrison, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:54 (thirteen years ago)
I heard Stray for the first time during the voting process and was blown away. Definitely one of my top discoveries from this poll. Totally worthy of top 100, hopefully more people will get into them. Re-post from voting thread:
Here's yet another one of those bands that we'd vaguely heard of (or perhaps not) but never really encountered actual records by, and now that we have we can't figure out why they weren't a bigger deal! I think I first became aware of 'em via the thanks/influences list on a Pentagram album. Kinda always assumed they were your basic British blues rock but on the evidence of this, their 1970 debut they were something a little different than the Cream/Zep sort of thing I'd imagined. They're rather more like a '60s psych-pop singles band, of the garagey/Nuggetsy variety, with the fuzz factor and sheer guitar heaviness cranked way up toward proto-metallic levels. More psych than prog, more pop than blues. Kinda punk too. Very kick ass and energetic, catchy and rockin', venturing from the paisley-painted pop melodicism of "Around The World In Eighty Days" to the slamming punkish "Only What You Make It" to a number of extended fuzz guitar workouts... but first and foremost it's good old-fashioned hard rock. Think Thin Lizzy. Or Dust, or Budgie. Or even early, early Rush (one song here always puts Byram in mind of "Working Man"). But as mentioned it's got a poppy '60s garage vibe unlike a lot of those acts... And there's enough proggier, psychier elements loaded in here to pique the interest of a wider audience than just the hard rock lovers among us. The guitar parts especially are full of odd harmonies and melodic richness that bring to mind Amon Duul II, if Amon Duul II could have managed to fit their open ended song structures into a tighter blues rock straight jacket. What makes Stray's music work so well is their attention to structure: keeping their compositions on a tight leash and avoiding the esoteric meanderings that can be a pitfall to many prog rockers. This and their sense of dynamics, knowing just how and when to throw the switch and rip the seat of your pants, is what must have made them a seriously kick ass live band (and apparently they were super popular as such in and around their London, England turf, but unfortunately never managed to cash in on the hard rock success like some of their contempories). They recorded numerous albums, of which this first one is likely their best (though their second LP Suicide is a good one too, and we're just not that familiar with the rest of their '70s output), but their biggest claim to fame might be that Iron Maiden covered one of their songs on a b-side ("All In Your Mind", the very first track on this disc). Stray's version was way better btw. -- Aquarius Records
While their first and third albums are easily available, the second album Suicide from the same set of 2006 reissues is totally sold out everywhere for some reason. I just got a used copy in the mail on Monday, seemingly the last copy available at a reasonable price on Amazon.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 16:59 (thirteen years ago)
199. WAR The World Is a Ghetto (1301 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #97 for 1972 , #3013 overall | Acclaimed: #1583 | RS: #449http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Tmtq2KzkEe0/TzBgjao_TzI/AAAAAAAAENc/qIrroE6BvJg/s1600/332745_1_f.jpeghttp://open.spotify.com/album/1xcVtK52sOL5Ii4NoMS5ZF
According to all my own theories, I should love this big Afro-roots band with the number one album, but it's hard. Jazz pretensions are one problem--"City, Country, City" has a firm bottom, but it's thirteen minutes long, and up top is mush. And if "That's What Love Will Do" was Vanilla Fudge, "Four Cornered Room" makes me think they're trying to start their own genre--blackstrap-rock, they could call it. B -- R. ChristgauWar has progressed far and fast since they disassociated themselves with Eric Burdon, with whom they had committed the all-time War atrocity, "Spill The Wine." Relieved of the necessity of shouldering this Burdon, they've developed a full, luscious sound that's engagingly funky. All Day Music saw the evolvement of this disctinctly urban sound to a point just short of proficiency -- War could talk but hadn't yet mastered the language. With The World Is a Ghetto, they edge even closer to total mastery of their music as they attempt to use it to communicate the essence of ghetto life.It begins with "The Cisco Kid," a song just teeming with imagery about Cisco and obese buddy Pancho. Sittin' down by the Rio Grande, drinkin' wine and "eatin' salted peanuts from the can" C.K. and Pancho are no more than a fantasy in the minds of the ghetto youth singing their praises, but an important fantasy because it allows them hope, heroes, and a temporary respite from the harsh realities of ghetto existence. "Where Was You At," which follows, is a true delight, a soulful get-down cut from the Isley Brothers mold. Shit, man, just the kinda funk you need to get off on the good foot! These two cuts are truly Watts and Harlem unleashed -- ghetto life at its most brazen."City, Country, City" is a tour de force energizer in which everybody gets his musical rocks off. Through a series of solos ahead of varying rhythmic percussion accompaniment, War attempts to convey the hustle and bustle of a ghetto day, sandwiched between the comparitive calm of morning and night. It works well despite one terrible flaw, a total failure to communicate the desperate urgency of the situation. Somehow the boiling rage and pent-up frustration never seem to surface. By totally ignoring the blues heritage so richly ingrained in ghetto life (a major component of Savoy Brown and Santana in similar albums), War ends up conveying the mistaken impression that ghetto-dwellers are content with their lot. Given the fact that even black ghetto youth are similarly ignoring this heritage, the absence of a significant blues component in War's music is understandable, even factually accurate. Nonetheless, it's regrettable."Four Cornered Room" is a Temptationesque choral ballad, mildly interesting but hardly worth the eight and a half minutes devoted to it. But the title track is simply the most successful use of the "Groovin'" motif since the Rascals tantalized urban America with the prototype. A study in casual, laid-back musical discipline, it soothes savage passions, lulling them to sleep to be awakened only by the stark, sudden refrain, "the world is a ghetto." Charles Miller's sax solo is magnificent, as definitive a statement of emotion as can be imagined.While they've yet to reach perfection (as they insist on demonstrating with self-indulgent crap like "Beetles in the Bog"), War has reached the point where they're becoming a significant force in the jazz and soul fields. Add a pinch of da blooze and they could well be artistic knockouts. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSBy the early 1970s, urban life in America was a dichotomy of experience, particularly Los Angeles -- the dreams of Hollywood contrasted sharply with the realities of life for growing Latino and African-American populations in the east and south of the city. While such a divergent culture created tension (with the 1965 Watts riots still stinging the collective memory), it also provided a fertile breeding ground for music, informing the growth of adventurous bands such as Sly And The Family Stone and War.A convergence of jazz, funk, rock, and Latin influences, War had scored a hit with "Spill The Wine," under the sponsorship of former Animals front man Eric Burdon. Continuing as an independent outfit, the seven members of the band showed increasing promise in their first two albums, but The World Is A Ghetto realized their full potential. While the title suggested an overt political statement, Howard Miller's cover design captured the album's lighthearted vibe -- a Rolls Royce stuck in the ghetto with a flat tire. Indeed, the Latin-flavored "The Cisco Kid" (a tongue-in-cheek homage to the heroic 1950s movie caballero) and the funky "Where Was You At" are as apolitical as it gets, celebrating life rather than preaching an agenda. Even the lyrics of the title track offer an optimistic message of love emerging from the overpowering city smog.The remarkably positive reception of the album (it was the best-selling record of 1973) illustrated how well War had captured the urban experience. While they would enjoy success throughout the decade, Ghetto remains their most cohesive and satisfying work. -- Tim Sheridan, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
War has progressed far and fast since they disassociated themselves with Eric Burdon, with whom they had committed the all-time War atrocity, "Spill The Wine." Relieved of the necessity of shouldering this Burdon, they've developed a full, luscious sound that's engagingly funky. All Day Music saw the evolvement of this disctinctly urban sound to a point just short of proficiency -- War could talk but hadn't yet mastered the language. With The World Is a Ghetto, they edge even closer to total mastery of their music as they attempt to use it to communicate the essence of ghetto life.
It begins with "The Cisco Kid," a song just teeming with imagery about Cisco and obese buddy Pancho. Sittin' down by the Rio Grande, drinkin' wine and "eatin' salted peanuts from the can" C.K. and Pancho are no more than a fantasy in the minds of the ghetto youth singing their praises, but an important fantasy because it allows them hope, heroes, and a temporary respite from the harsh realities of ghetto existence. "Where Was You At," which follows, is a true delight, a soulful get-down cut from the Isley Brothers mold. Shit, man, just the kinda funk you need to get off on the good foot! These two cuts are truly Watts and Harlem unleashed -- ghetto life at its most brazen.
"City, Country, City" is a tour de force energizer in which everybody gets his musical rocks off. Through a series of solos ahead of varying rhythmic percussion accompaniment, War attempts to convey the hustle and bustle of a ghetto day, sandwiched between the comparitive calm of morning and night. It works well despite one terrible flaw, a total failure to communicate the desperate urgency of the situation. Somehow the boiling rage and pent-up frustration never seem to surface. By totally ignoring the blues heritage so richly ingrained in ghetto life (a major component of Savoy Brown and Santana in similar albums), War ends up conveying the mistaken impression that ghetto-dwellers are content with their lot. Given the fact that even black ghetto youth are similarly ignoring this heritage, the absence of a significant blues component in War's music is understandable, even factually accurate. Nonetheless, it's regrettable.
"Four Cornered Room" is a Temptationesque choral ballad, mildly interesting but hardly worth the eight and a half minutes devoted to it. But the title track is simply the most successful use of the "Groovin'" motif since the Rascals tantalized urban America with the prototype. A study in casual, laid-back musical discipline, it soothes savage passions, lulling them to sleep to be awakened only by the stark, sudden refrain, "the world is a ghetto." Charles Miller's sax solo is magnificent, as definitive a statement of emotion as can be imagined.
While they've yet to reach perfection (as they insist on demonstrating with self-indulgent crap like "Beetles in the Bog"), War has reached the point where they're becoming a significant force in the jazz and soul fields. Add a pinch of da blooze and they could well be artistic knockouts. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
By the early 1970s, urban life in America was a dichotomy of experience, particularly Los Angeles -- the dreams of Hollywood contrasted sharply with the realities of life for growing Latino and African-American populations in the east and south of the city. While such a divergent culture created tension (with the 1965 Watts riots still stinging the collective memory), it also provided a fertile breeding ground for music, informing the growth of adventurous bands such as Sly And The Family Stone and War.
A convergence of jazz, funk, rock, and Latin influences, War had scored a hit with "Spill The Wine," under the sponsorship of former Animals front man Eric Burdon. Continuing as an independent outfit, the seven members of the band showed increasing promise in their first two albums, but The World Is A Ghetto realized their full potential. While the title suggested an overt political statement, Howard Miller's cover design captured the album's lighthearted vibe -- a Rolls Royce stuck in the ghetto with a flat tire. Indeed, the Latin-flavored "The Cisco Kid" (a tongue-in-cheek homage to the heroic 1950s movie caballero) and the funky "Where Was You At" are as apolitical as it gets, celebrating life rather than preaching an agenda. Even the lyrics of the title track offer an optimistic message of love emerging from the overpowering city smog.
The remarkably positive reception of the album (it was the best-selling record of 1973) illustrated how well War had captured the urban experience. While they would enjoy success throughout the decade, Ghetto remains their most cohesive and satisfying work. -- Tim Sheridan, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
review[-] by Bruce EderWar's third album as an act separate from Eric Burdon was also far and away their most popular, the group's only long-player to top the pop charts. The culmination of everything they'd been shooting for creatively on their two prior albums, it featured work in both succinct pop-accessible idioms ("The Cisco Kid," etc.) as well as challenging extended pieces such as the 13-minute "City, Country, City" -- which offered featured spots to all seven members without ever seeming disjointed -- and the title track, and encompass not only soul and funk but elements of blues and psychedelia on works such as the exquisite "Four Cornered Room." "The Cisco Kid" and "The World Is a Ghetto" understandably dominated the album's exposure, but there's much more to enjoy here, even decades on. Beyond the quality of the musicianship, the classy, forward-looking production has held up remarkably well, and not just on the most famous cuts here; indeed, The World Is a Ghetto is of a piece with Marvin Gaye's What's Going On and Curtis Mayfield's Curtis, utilizing the most sophisticated studio techniques of the era. Not only does it sound great, but there are important touches such as the phasing in "Four Cornered Room," not only on the percussion but also on the vocals, guitars, and other instruments, and the overall effect is a seemingly contradictory (yet eminently workable) shimmering blues, even working in a mournful and unadorned harmonica amid the more complex sounds.
War's third album as an act separate from Eric Burdon was also far and away their most popular, the group's only long-player to top the pop charts. The culmination of everything they'd been shooting for creatively on their two prior albums, it featured work in both succinct pop-accessible idioms ("The Cisco Kid," etc.) as well as challenging extended pieces such as the 13-minute "City, Country, City" -- which offered featured spots to all seven members without ever seeming disjointed -- and the title track, and encompass not only soul and funk but elements of blues and psychedelia on works such as the exquisite "Four Cornered Room." "The Cisco Kid" and "The World Is a Ghetto" understandably dominated the album's exposure, but there's much more to enjoy here, even decades on. Beyond the quality of the musicianship, the classy, forward-looking production has held up remarkably well, and not just on the most famous cuts here; indeed, The World Is a Ghetto is of a piece with Marvin Gaye's What's Going On and Curtis Mayfield's Curtis, utilizing the most sophisticated studio techniques of the era. Not only does it sound great, but there are important touches such as the phasing in "Four Cornered Room," not only on the percussion but also on the vocals, guitars, and other instruments, and the overall effect is a seemingly contradictory (yet eminently workable) shimmering blues, even working in a mournful and unadorned harmonica amid the more complex sounds.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:00 (thirteen years ago)
Excellent album and yay it making the top 200
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:03 (thirteen years ago)
I had a bad vinyl rip of Suicide for a couple years and didn't get into it, until the poll got me into the first album. Once I heard the remaster of the second one, I learned it too would have been an extremely worthy nomination in this poll.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:04 (thirteen years ago)
198. THE RUTS The Crack (1301 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #59 for 1979 , #3209 overall
On The Crack, the Ruts meld the Pistols' instrumental attack with leader Malcolm Owen's Strummeresque bellow; while less inspired than either of those bands, the Ruts started out with far more finesse (including nimble bass). True to their early association with reggae collective Misty in Roots (sponsor of their first 45), the Ruts often incorporated reggae riffs ? adeptly, not heavy-handedly and without missing a single roughshod 4/4 stride. Simple, straightforward political lyrics are heartfelt but not strident. -- Trouser PressSet to dominate the UK punk scene in the 80s until the death of singer Malcolm Owen from a hprnin nxiprrInp rnhl,pd (what???) the punk generation's second wave of its alpha band. The band's fusion of dub and punk was perfectly showcased in great songs and tough, tight playing. -- Classic RockAlong with Stiff Little Fingers, The Ruts were the best of the second wave punk bands to put out début albums in '79. It's hard to know if they would have become bigger if lead singer Malcolm Owen died shortly after of heroin O.D., but there's no denying what a great band they were in their brief run. Scorching tracks like the funky, disciplined "Savage Circle" showed how incredibly tight they were, able to stop, turn on a dime and explode. No wonder they were worshipped early on by members of Bad Brains and Minor Threat. And unlike Bad Brains' early work, their reggae-influenced songs were just as strong as the punk barnstormers, with the original, steely "It Was Cold" another highlight. Essential. -- Fastnbulbous
Set to dominate the UK punk scene in the 80s until the death of singer Malcolm Owen from a hprnin nxiprrInp rnhl,pd (what???) the punk generation's second wave of its alpha band. The band's fusion of dub and punk was perfectly showcased in great songs and tough, tight playing. -- Classic Rock
Along with Stiff Little Fingers, The Ruts were the best of the second wave punk bands to put out début albums in '79. It's hard to know if they would have become bigger if lead singer Malcolm Owen died shortly after of heroin O.D., but there's no denying what a great band they were in their brief run. Scorching tracks like the funky, disciplined "Savage Circle" showed how incredibly tight they were, able to stop, turn on a dime and explode. No wonder they were worshipped early on by members of Bad Brains and Minor Threat. And unlike Bad Brains' early work, their reggae-influenced songs were just as strong as the punk barnstormers, with the original, steely "It Was Cold" another highlight. Essential. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Jo-Ann GreeneEarly punk's greatest glory, and greatest flaw, was that most of the bands were signed before they'd reached true musical proficiency. No wonder they sounded so unique -- they weren't capable of imitating their influences yet. Not so with the Ruts, who were able to deliver a powerful musical punch with their debut album, something virtually unique among old-school British punk bands. Easily able to recreate not just first-wave punk stylings, but classic rock as well, the Ruts' influences ran the gamut of genres from Motörhead to Marley, the New York Dolls to the Banshees. Thus, The Crack was one blindingly original album, far removed from its contemporaries. At the core, the quartet's sound was based primarily on '70s rock, played fast and hard, bringing them into the sphere of the street punks, an evolving genre later tagged Oi!, and eventually mutating into both speed metal and hardcore. The album features a clutch of headbanging pogo-til-you-puke blasts of fury, anthemic shout-alongs one and all. But the Ruts were capable of much more than simplistic punk-rockers in a metal mode. Some songs feature a wondrous gothic drone; "It Was Cold" was indebted to both Magazine and the Police, while other tracks give nods to pub rock and R&B. Out of this mass of sounds and styles, the Ruts hammered out intriguing hybrids, darkly shadowed, but occasionally emerging into the pop light. "Dope for Guns," for example, weds a hard rock verse to an anthemic poppy chorus, then ties the knot with a reggae riff, while "Is It Something That I Said" pushes toward Buzzcocks territory. The seminal "Jah War," inspired by the Southall riots, is simmering roots reggae/dub, but seared by classic rock guitar leads, totally redefining the rockers genre. The group was, if anything, even stronger lyrically. "Babylon's Burning" turns a powerful punk-rocker into an epic, with singer Malcolm Owen capturing the anger, frustration, and horror of anyone caught up in a riot. On "Jah War," he deliberately cools his passions, giving the words more nuanced power than if he allowed his anger to break free. On the sinister "S.U.S.," a response to England's infamous stop and search law, the group combines to create an ominous atmosphere of paranoia, a sound more chilling than that of any modern black metal band. The CD reissue also includes the B-sides from the group's three singles, the dub-heavy "Give Youth a Chance," the slamming, if somewhat silly "I Ain't Sophisticated," and the jokey "The Crack," where more excellent dub is interspersed with the group's rather amusing take on early rock & roll.
Early punk's greatest glory, and greatest flaw, was that most of the bands were signed before they'd reached true musical proficiency. No wonder they sounded so unique -- they weren't capable of imitating their influences yet. Not so with the Ruts, who were able to deliver a powerful musical punch with their debut album, something virtually unique among old-school British punk bands. Easily able to recreate not just first-wave punk stylings, but classic rock as well, the Ruts' influences ran the gamut of genres from Motörhead to Marley, the New York Dolls to the Banshees. Thus, The Crack was one blindingly original album, far removed from its contemporaries. At the core, the quartet's sound was based primarily on '70s rock, played fast and hard, bringing them into the sphere of the street punks, an evolving genre later tagged Oi!, and eventually mutating into both speed metal and hardcore. The album features a clutch of headbanging pogo-til-you-puke blasts of fury, anthemic shout-alongs one and all. But the Ruts were capable of much more than simplistic punk-rockers in a metal mode. Some songs feature a wondrous gothic drone; "It Was Cold" was indebted to both Magazine and the Police, while other tracks give nods to pub rock and R&B. Out of this mass of sounds and styles, the Ruts hammered out intriguing hybrids, darkly shadowed, but occasionally emerging into the pop light. "Dope for Guns," for example, weds a hard rock verse to an anthemic poppy chorus, then ties the knot with a reggae riff, while "Is It Something That I Said" pushes toward Buzzcocks territory. The seminal "Jah War," inspired by the Southall riots, is simmering roots reggae/dub, but seared by classic rock guitar leads, totally redefining the rockers genre. The group was, if anything, even stronger lyrically. "Babylon's Burning" turns a powerful punk-rocker into an epic, with singer Malcolm Owen capturing the anger, frustration, and horror of anyone caught up in a riot. On "Jah War," he deliberately cools his passions, giving the words more nuanced power than if he allowed his anger to break free. On the sinister "S.U.S.," a response to England's infamous stop and search law, the group combines to create an ominous atmosphere of paranoia, a sound more chilling than that of any modern black metal band. The CD reissue also includes the B-sides from the group's three singles, the dub-heavy "Give Youth a Chance," the slamming, if somewhat silly "I Ain't Sophisticated," and the jokey "The Crack," where more excellent dub is interspersed with the group's rather amusing take on early rock & roll.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:15 (thirteen years ago)
i'm listening to mutiny atm. really great!
― Mordy, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:15 (thirteen years ago)
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/898/MI0001898535.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
great album
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:19 (thirteen years ago)
The Ruts! My Peel Sessions CD of them was also a treasured item with many cuts getting heavy rotation on my radio show.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:24 (thirteen years ago)
197. THIN LIZZY Jailbreak (1320 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #8 for 1976 , #424 overall | Acclaimed: #802http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/600/MI0001600181.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5U1ZwgQzWun74Cgx85z1oy
The proof of how desperate people are for new Springsteen is that they'll settle for this--even "The Boys Are Back in Town" is the sort of thing that ends up in Bruce's wastebasket. If Irish teen traumas are as boring as Phil Lynott's descriptions of them, it's no wonder they have trouble maintaining their birthrate. And if Irish teen traumas are as secondhand as Scott Gorham's guitar lines, the Irish will probably end up preferring Springsteen too. B- -- R. ChristgauJailbreak, Thin Lizzy's fifth and best American album, culminates their assimilation of various rock influences into a hard-edged, self-assured style. Guitarists Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson have incorporated stylistic tricks from Jimi Hendrix and Pete Townshend into an Allmans-like attack that works equally well on the gutsy title song and the soft rocker, "Fight or Fall."Bassist/writer/vocalist Phil Lynott's full-bodied voice is occasionally a dead ringer for Bruce Springsteen's. For example, "The Boys Are Back in Town," resembles a hard-rock "Kitty's Back," right down to the whispered "the boys are back." Like his melodies, Lynott's vocals are engaging, performed with enough spirit to hide Thin Lizzy's prime weakness: lyrics. Jailbreak rehashes the dead horse motif of rocker as outlaw, producing some embarrassingly thin and pretentious writing. "Cowboy Song," despite its sprightly twin-lead guitar work, is the prime casualty, but lines like "Oh, poor Romeo, sitting all on his own-eo," threaten to unhinge the melodically compelling "Romeo and the Lonely Girl" as well. -- John Milward, RS
Jailbreak, Thin Lizzy's fifth and best American album, culminates their assimilation of various rock influences into a hard-edged, self-assured style. Guitarists Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson have incorporated stylistic tricks from Jimi Hendrix and Pete Townshend into an Allmans-like attack that works equally well on the gutsy title song and the soft rocker, "Fight or Fall."
Bassist/writer/vocalist Phil Lynott's full-bodied voice is occasionally a dead ringer for Bruce Springsteen's. For example, "The Boys Are Back in Town," resembles a hard-rock "Kitty's Back," right down to the whispered "the boys are back." Like his melodies, Lynott's vocals are engaging, performed with enough spirit to hide Thin Lizzy's prime weakness: lyrics. Jailbreak rehashes the dead horse motif of rocker as outlaw, producing some embarrassingly thin and pretentious writing. "Cowboy Song," despite its sprightly twin-lead guitar work, is the prime casualty, but lines like "Oh, poor Romeo, sitting all on his own-eo," threaten to unhinge the melodically compelling "Romeo and the Lonely Girl" as well. -- John Milward, RS
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineThin Lizzy found their trademark twin-guitar sound on 1975's Fighting, but it was on its 1976 successor, Jailbreak, where the band truly took flight. Unlike the leap between Night Life and Fighting, there is not a great distance between Jailbreak and its predecessor. If anything, the album was more of a culmination of everything that came before, as Phil Lynott hit a peak as a songwriter just as guitarists Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson pioneered an intertwined, dual-lead guitar interplay that was one of the most distinctive sounds of '70s rock, and one of the most influential. Lynott no longer let Gorham and Robertson contribute individual songs -- they co-wrote, but had no individual credits -- which helps tighten up the album, giving it a cohesive personality, namely Lynott's rough rebel with a heart of a poet. Lynott loves turning the commonplace into legend -- or bringing myth into the modern world, as he does on "Cowboy Song" or, to a lesser extent, "Romeo and the Lonely Girl" -- and this myth-making is married to an exceptional eye for details; when the boys are back in town, they don't just come back to a local bar, they're down at Dino's, picking up girls and driving the old men crazy. This gives his lovingly florid songs, crammed with specifics and overflowing with life, a universality that's hammered home by the vicious, primal, and precise attack of the band. Thin Lizzy is tough as rhino skin and as brutal as bandits, but it's leavened by Lynott's light touch as a singer, which is almost seductive in its croon. This gives Jailbreak a dimension of richness that sustains, but there's such kinetic energy to the band that it still sounds immediate no matter how many times it's played. Either one would make it a classic, but both qualities in one record makes it a truly exceptional album.
Thin Lizzy found their trademark twin-guitar sound on 1975's Fighting, but it was on its 1976 successor, Jailbreak, where the band truly took flight. Unlike the leap between Night Life and Fighting, there is not a great distance between Jailbreak and its predecessor. If anything, the album was more of a culmination of everything that came before, as Phil Lynott hit a peak as a songwriter just as guitarists Scott Gorham and Brian Robertson pioneered an intertwined, dual-lead guitar interplay that was one of the most distinctive sounds of '70s rock, and one of the most influential. Lynott no longer let Gorham and Robertson contribute individual songs -- they co-wrote, but had no individual credits -- which helps tighten up the album, giving it a cohesive personality, namely Lynott's rough rebel with a heart of a poet. Lynott loves turning the commonplace into legend -- or bringing myth into the modern world, as he does on "Cowboy Song" or, to a lesser extent, "Romeo and the Lonely Girl" -- and this myth-making is married to an exceptional eye for details; when the boys are back in town, they don't just come back to a local bar, they're down at Dino's, picking up girls and driving the old men crazy. This gives his lovingly florid songs, crammed with specifics and overflowing with life, a universality that's hammered home by the vicious, primal, and precise attack of the band. Thin Lizzy is tough as rhino skin and as brutal as bandits, but it's leavened by Lynott's light touch as a singer, which is almost seductive in its croon. This gives Jailbreak a dimension of richness that sustains, but there's such kinetic energy to the band that it still sounds immediate no matter how many times it's played. Either one would make it a classic, but both qualities in one record makes it a truly exceptional album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
Ok I need to listen to Stray
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
so many intriguing records i haven't heard on this list. going to keep me busy all year.
― stirmonster, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:33 (thirteen years ago)
christgau review of jailbreak is him hitting the wagnerian heights of both his metal snobbery and tri-state provincialism, did he ever think that maybe it was the shared influence of van morrison that made springsteen + lynott sound similar
plus I'd rather listen to jailbreak than springsteen's jingle bell bullshit any day of the week
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:38 (thirteen years ago)
ugggh that Christgau Lizzy review is upsetting as Lizzy fan AND as a Bruce fan ie RAGH FUCK YOU
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:42 (thirteen years ago)
I love Springsteen but "jingle bell bullshit" made me lol.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:43 (thirteen years ago)
VG have you discovered any good new albums from the poll so far?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:44 (thirteen years ago)
196. THE CURE Three Imaginary Boys/Boys Don't Cry (1321 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #67 for 1979 , #3436 overall | Acclaimed: #907 | RS: #442 http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/000/MI0002000624.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0jYmAPQezr1aG75KerJCdG
The sound is dry postpunk, with touches of Wire's spare, arty melodicism, more Pink Flag than 154. Never pretty, it's treated with a properly mnemonic pop overlay--scan the titles and you'll recall a phrase from all but a few of these thirteen songs. Intelligent phrases they are, too. Yet what are we to think of a band whose best song is based on Albert Camus's The Stranger, a book that was holy writ for collegiate existentialists before Robert Smith was even born? The last thing we need is collegiate existentialism nostalgia. B+ -- R. ChristgauBoys Don't Cry, the American edition of Three Imaginary Boys with several tracks replaced by singles, shows the Cure ? although barely competent at playing their instruments (no other future superstar of the new wave made such a weak-sounding debut) ? to be masters of the three-minute form. It includes some amazingly terse and effective musical dissertations on loneliness ("10:15 Saturday Night"), war and hatred ("Killing an Arab," "Fire in Cairo"), the precariousness of urban life ("Subway Song") and trendiness ("Jumping Someone Else's Train"). An intelligent, unique halfway point between Gang of Four and the Jam. The 21st century reissue adds a second disc of demos and contemporaneous live performances, which vary widely in quality and fidelity but are (mostly) worth hearing and at times very illuminating. -- Trouser Press
Boys Don't Cry, the American edition of Three Imaginary Boys with several tracks replaced by singles, shows the Cure ? although barely competent at playing their instruments (no other future superstar of the new wave made such a weak-sounding debut) ? to be masters of the three-minute form. It includes some amazingly terse and effective musical dissertations on loneliness ("10:15 Saturday Night"), war and hatred ("Killing an Arab," "Fire in Cairo"), the precariousness of urban life ("Subway Song") and trendiness ("Jumping Someone Else's Train"). An intelligent, unique halfway point between Gang of Four and the Jam. The 21st century reissue adds a second disc of demos and contemporaneous live performances, which vary widely in quality and fidelity but are (mostly) worth hearing and at times very illuminating. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Chris TrueMaybe it was youthful exuberance or perhaps it was the fact that the band itself was not pulling all the strings, Three Imaginary Boys is not only a very strong debut, but a near oddity (it's an admittedly "catchy" record) in the Cure catalog. More poppy and representative of the times than any other album during their long career, Three Imaginary Boys is a semi-detached bit of late-'70s English pop-punk. Angular and lyrically abstract, it's strong points are in its utter simplicity. There are no dirges here, no long suites, just short bursts of energy and a rather strange cover of Hendrix's "Foxy Lady." For some, this is the last good Cure record, many fans of this album being in no way prepared for the sparse emptiness and gloom that would be the cornerstone of future releases. For the most die-hard Cure-head, however, it's an interesting sidenote, hard to place in the general flow of the band's discography. Cure leader Robert Smith has voiced many times over his mixed feelings about the record, most notably the cover art (the three "representative" appliances on the cover, the lack of a real track listing -- all the songs are represented with arty type pictures -- and in no real order) and the production, which at times is admittedly a little muddy, but even that lends it a certain youthful charm. What the Cure would do next wasn't entirely obvious to the listener of this album, but there are some definite hints.
Maybe it was youthful exuberance or perhaps it was the fact that the band itself was not pulling all the strings, Three Imaginary Boys is not only a very strong debut, but a near oddity (it's an admittedly "catchy" record) in the Cure catalog. More poppy and representative of the times than any other album during their long career, Three Imaginary Boys is a semi-detached bit of late-'70s English pop-punk. Angular and lyrically abstract, it's strong points are in its utter simplicity. There are no dirges here, no long suites, just short bursts of energy and a rather strange cover of Hendrix's "Foxy Lady." For some, this is the last good Cure record, many fans of this album being in no way prepared for the sparse emptiness and gloom that would be the cornerstone of future releases. For the most die-hard Cure-head, however, it's an interesting sidenote, hard to place in the general flow of the band's discography. Cure leader Robert Smith has voiced many times over his mixed feelings about the record, most notably the cover art (the three "representative" appliances on the cover, the lack of a real track listing -- all the songs are represented with arty type pictures -- and in no real order) and the production, which at times is admittedly a little muddy, but even that lends it a certain youthful charm. What the Cure would do next wasn't entirely obvious to the listener of this album, but there are some definite hints.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
I haven't really 'discovered' anything but i've enjoyed being reminded of stuff that I had forgotten that I love like the Mayfield and Fela stuff
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:46 (thirteen years ago)
Not been checking out albums you've not heard before?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:47 (thirteen years ago)
195. OS MUTANTES Os Mutantes Disqualified as it's from 1968.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:53 (thirteen years ago)
controversial!
― Mordy, Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:55 (thirteen years ago)
Bat Macumba!
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Thursday, 21 March 2013 17:55 (thirteen years ago)
194. JOBRIATH Jobriath (1324 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #599 for 1973http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_1080/MI0002/903/MI0002903595.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2yQtSuU9flHpz4LbeNVfKT
Jobriath, whom hypemeister Jerry Brandt is touting as the ultimate gay rock superstar of the future, has turned out a flashy and provocative debut album. Jobriath brings to rock a voice uncannily reminiscent of Mick Jagger's and a theatrical intuitiveness and thematic sensibility that are superficially similar to David Bowie's. Like Bowie, Jobriath is fascinated with esxtraterrestrial fantasies that combine autoeroticism and prophecy, though JObriath's musical and poetic vernacular are blunter, deliberately eschewing intellectual sophistication for a bold populist stance. Even more than Bowie, JObriath delivers himself as a phenomonon that is already a fait accompli, which is fortunate since Jerry Brandt's imaginative promotional campaign presupposes this to be the case.Jobriath's music is stylistically all of a piece, though its sound varies from studio hard rock to pianistic lyricism. His melodic writing is as strong as his vocal delivery, and his lyrics, though they are not elliptically imagistic like Bowie's are arrestingly assertive.The opening cut, "Take Me I'm Yours," which summaryizes Jobriath more completely than any other, is a glittering rock anthem to fantasy in which he plays the masochistic role in an S&M relationship with his imagination, inviting us, by example, to go so far as to flirt with insanity that ultimately becomes a metaphor for spiritual release.Another highlight, "I'Maman" (French pun intended), is a winning invitation to experiment with sexual role-playing. Again Jobriath uses himself as an example. "Blow Away," is a mythic paean to homosexual love, in which the title phrase is "manipulated skillfully to imply everything from sucking a cock to the sands of time. ITs surrealistically ornamented sound is the ideal complement to a message in which defiance and cosmic sadness are inextricalbe.The success of Jobriath will ultimately depend on his ability to communicate in live performance the sass and sensuality that are apparent on the album, which beyond being an interesting fusion of rock eclecticism and Broadway showmanship, exhibits honest, personal magnetism and talent to burn. -- Stephen Holden, RSDavid Bowie and Lou Reed may have temporarily flaunted a faux bi-sexuality, but it was Jobriath who was the first ever openly gay rock star. Produced by Eddie Kramer his debut album took glam to a whole other obsessively grandiose galaxy. The operatic vocals and bombastic arrangements out-did Queen and anticipated Meatloaf?s career, with some of the most ambitiously epic ballads anyone has heard at that point. Though he was based in flambouyant L.A. the world of movie stars and alien misfits, he had a tough time getting his music accepted in America, which was still largely conservative. It?s ironic that you can now hear his influence more vividly in Guns N? Roses than even Morrissey or Pet Shop Boys. He should have moved to London rather than New York. Instead, Elektra?s massive promotional campaign and rave reviews, the album bombed. The label allowed him to release one more album, Creatures Of The Street (1974), but pulled the plug on promotions. Despite that, Jobriath and his band The Creatures did manage to start to win over an enthusiastic following by the end of their tour, but it was too late. Plans for a third album, an autobiographical musical (Pop Star) and various movie roles never panned out, and he lived the rest of his life in obscurity, in a glass pyramid atop the roof of the Chelsea Hoteluntil his AIDs-related death in 1983. -- Fastnbulbous
Jobriath's music is stylistically all of a piece, though its sound varies from studio hard rock to pianistic lyricism. His melodic writing is as strong as his vocal delivery, and his lyrics, though they are not elliptically imagistic like Bowie's are arrestingly assertive.
The opening cut, "Take Me I'm Yours," which summaryizes Jobriath more completely than any other, is a glittering rock anthem to fantasy in which he plays the masochistic role in an S&M relationship with his imagination, inviting us, by example, to go so far as to flirt with insanity that ultimately becomes a metaphor for spiritual release.
Another highlight, "I'Maman" (French pun intended), is a winning invitation to experiment with sexual role-playing. Again Jobriath uses himself as an example. "Blow Away," is a mythic paean to homosexual love, in which the title phrase is "manipulated skillfully to imply everything from sucking a cock to the sands of time. ITs surrealistically ornamented sound is the ideal complement to a message in which defiance and cosmic sadness are inextricalbe.
The success of Jobriath will ultimately depend on his ability to communicate in live performance the sass and sensuality that are apparent on the album, which beyond being an interesting fusion of rock eclecticism and Broadway showmanship, exhibits honest, personal magnetism and talent to burn. -- Stephen Holden, RS
David Bowie and Lou Reed may have temporarily flaunted a faux bi-sexuality, but it was Jobriath who was the first ever openly gay rock star. Produced by Eddie Kramer his debut album took glam to a whole other obsessively grandiose galaxy. The operatic vocals and bombastic arrangements out-did Queen and anticipated Meatloaf?s career, with some of the most ambitiously epic ballads anyone has heard at that point. Though he was based in flambouyant L.A. the world of movie stars and alien misfits, he had a tough time getting his music accepted in America, which was still largely conservative. It?s ironic that you can now hear his influence more vividly in Guns N? Roses than even Morrissey or Pet Shop Boys. He should have moved to London rather than New York. Instead, Elektra?s massive promotional campaign and rave reviews, the album bombed. The label allowed him to release one more album, Creatures Of The Street (1974), but pulled the plug on promotions. Despite that, Jobriath and his band The Creatures did manage to start to win over an enthusiastic following by the end of their tour, but it was too late. Plans for a third album, an autobiographical musical (Pop Star) and various movie roles never panned out, and he lived the rest of his life in obscurity, in a glass pyramid atop the roof of the Chelsea Hoteluntil his AIDs-related death in 1983. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Dave ThompsonGrand, grandiose, obsessive, overbearing, precocious, pretentious -- you could spend a lifetime browsing the thesaurus and still never put your finger on everything that makes Jobriath's debut the legend that it is. Part of the problem, of course, is reputation -- after 20 years of being hammered as the hype that scuppered glam rock in the U.S., then five more of rediscovery and absolute reinvention, Jobriath is today revered as much for its maker's status as gay America's first public icon as for its actual contents. Maybe even more so. Strip away such hullabaloo, however, and you're still left with an album that merits all the applause. Of course it's rock -- "World Without End" and "Earthling" are even funk rock, and so smartly shade David Bowie's "Fame" and "Stay" bookends that one cannot help but wonder -- but it's so much more than that. Jobriath's voice falls somewhere between vaudeville over-elucidation and operatic emphasis; his lyrics ooze pierrots, aliens, and movie stars, and his arrangements make Queen sound like an underachieving garage band. A few years later, Meatloaf would take a similar grasp on the vastness of excess and make a million. Jobriath made a millstone, but the parallels are apparent all the same. Heartfelt ballad as medieval battering ram. The stars of the show are spotlit from the start. Eddie Kramer's production ranks among his most unrestrained ever, so that even the piano ballads are draped across the broadest of stages. Add the band to the brew, and you can hear the kitchen sinks flying in. But if Jobriath (like Bat Out of Hell) is awash in brain-charring overkill, the surfeit is by no means gratuitous -- or rather, it is, but only because it needs to be. In any other surroundings, songs like "Movie Queen" and "Inside" would seem slight and trite. Here they are the shade that prefigures the light -- the sun-bright blast of "Morning Starship," the Rocky Horror boogie of "Rock of Ages," the unfettered majesty of "Take Me I'm Yours." Jobriath's songs are big-screen Cinerama, the slightest motion ten feet tall, the tiniest whisper Sensurround sharp. And just when you think they can't get any bigger, "Blow Away" wraps things up with a choral concerto, a hammy hymn, an exaggeration so huge that even the lyrical lift from Three Little Piggies sounds dramatic and profound. Grand and grandiose, obsessive and overbearing, precocious, and pretentious -- it's Jobriath. What else did you expect?
Grand, grandiose, obsessive, overbearing, precocious, pretentious -- you could spend a lifetime browsing the thesaurus and still never put your finger on everything that makes Jobriath's debut the legend that it is. Part of the problem, of course, is reputation -- after 20 years of being hammered as the hype that scuppered glam rock in the U.S., then five more of rediscovery and absolute reinvention, Jobriath is today revered as much for its maker's status as gay America's first public icon as for its actual contents. Maybe even more so. Strip away such hullabaloo, however, and you're still left with an album that merits all the applause. Of course it's rock -- "World Without End" and "Earthling" are even funk rock, and so smartly shade David Bowie's "Fame" and "Stay" bookends that one cannot help but wonder -- but it's so much more than that. Jobriath's voice falls somewhere between vaudeville over-elucidation and operatic emphasis; his lyrics ooze pierrots, aliens, and movie stars, and his arrangements make Queen sound like an underachieving garage band. A few years later, Meatloaf would take a similar grasp on the vastness of excess and make a million. Jobriath made a millstone, but the parallels are apparent all the same. Heartfelt ballad as medieval battering ram. The stars of the show are spotlit from the start. Eddie Kramer's production ranks among his most unrestrained ever, so that even the piano ballads are draped across the broadest of stages. Add the band to the brew, and you can hear the kitchen sinks flying in. But if Jobriath (like Bat Out of Hell) is awash in brain-charring overkill, the surfeit is by no means gratuitous -- or rather, it is, but only because it needs to be. In any other surroundings, songs like "Movie Queen" and "Inside" would seem slight and trite. Here they are the shade that prefigures the light -- the sun-bright blast of "Morning Starship," the Rocky Horror boogie of "Rock of Ages," the unfettered majesty of "Take Me I'm Yours." Jobriath's songs are big-screen Cinerama, the slightest motion ten feet tall, the tiniest whisper Sensurround sharp. And just when you think they can't get any bigger, "Blow Away" wraps things up with a choral concerto, a hammy hymn, an exaggeration so huge that even the lyrical lift from Three Little Piggies sounds dramatic and profound. Grand and grandiose, obsessive and overbearing, precocious, and pretentious -- it's Jobriath. What else did you expect?
biography[-] by Dave ThompsonWidely acclaimed today as the first ever openly (and genuinely) gay rock star, an iconic status which only seems to harden as time passes, Jobriath can also be described among the saddest casualties in modern musical history. The two albums he cut during 1973-1975 are collectors items today and deservedly so. But for at least two decades after their release, their maker's name was more likely to be evoked as an example of the dangers of hype, than anything else, with the actual quality of both his music and his performance deeply buried beneath the avalanche of scorn which knowing critics still pour on his head.However, both Morrissey and the Pet Shop Boys have talked openly of their admiration for Jobriath, Jayne County has described him as America's premier glam rock idol and Mark Stewart is an unlikely, but equally loyal fan. So, too, are the generation of young glam rock fans who were curious enough to look beyond the record company hype (and the music industry hatred) to investigate the intriguingly packaged, deliciously delivered records which bore the singer's name. Neither has been scarred by time, neither has been overtaken by age. In 1973-1975, Jobriath records were regarded as a waste of time. Today, they are simply timeless.A veteran of the original Los Angeles run of Hair, Jobriath then relocated to New York, where he recorded one album with progressive rock hopefuls Pidgeon. The record went nowhere and Jobriath split for a solo career, managed by former Jimi Hendrix associate Mike Jefferies. They parted company soon after and Jobriath soldiered on alone, beating his head against what was rapidly becoming a wall of unmitigated hostility towards his music. One of the most popular of the manifold legends surrounding Jobriath is the reaction which a set of his demos drew from Columbia Records president Clive Davis -- "mad and unstructured and destructive to melody."Davis' disdain did not fall on stony ground, however. Indeed, Jerry Brandt, at that time manager of Carly Simon, was so intrigued by Davis' remarks that he immediately set up a meeting with the singer, then signed him to a management deal. His enthusiasm was contagious as well. Elektra Records head Jac Holzman later confessed, "I made two errors of judgment in my days at [the label] and signing Jobriath was one of them." Equally incriminatingly, Jobriath doesn't receive a single mention in Holzman's official label history, Follow the Sun.At the time, however, Elektra's belief in Jobriath appeared limitless. The label spent over $80,000 on his eponymous debut album, with almost half of that sum being poured into promotion. At the height of glam rock, Jobriath was being portrayed as the glammiest artist of them all -- and when the inevitable comparisons with David Bowie were floated, Brandt knew precisely how to respond. "Jobriath is as different from Bowie as a Lambourghini is from a Model A Ford. They're both cars, it's just a question of taste, style, elegance and beauty." Full page ads in Vogue, Penthouse, and the New York Times forwarded such claims into areas that had never previously been courted by the music industry. A 50-foot square billboard in Times Square saw his visage glowering over New York's daily commuters; posters on the front of London's bus fleet ensured he dominated that city as well. Both Cashbox and Rolling Stone ("Jobriath has talent to burn") gave the album rave reviews, while an appearance on TV's Midnight Special raised the singer's media profile even higher.Creatures of the StreetUnfortunately, the record simply didn't sell, at home or abroad. Such was the enormity of the hype built around Jobriath, so vast were the promises which his backers were making, that when the album finally hit the streets, there was no way it could live up to its billing -- no way, in fact, that any record could. As Jac Holzman later reflected, "the music seemed secondary to everything else. It was... lacking in any sense of reality. It's an embarrassment." A proposed European concert debut at the Paris Opera House was canceled and though Elektra allowed Jobriath to record a second album, they already seemed to have washed their hands of him. Creatures of the Street received little promotion, poor reviews, and near-zero sales. A U.S. tour during spring, 1975, drew little attention (and even less applause) and it was only towards the end of an utterly miserable and apparently drug-crazed venture that Jobriath and his band, the Creatures, finally began winning over audiences. Their last ever performance, at Tuscaloosa University, ended with five encores and a near riot.It was too little, too late. Brandt dropped Jobriath from his roster midway through the outing and immediately the tour was over and Jobriath announced his retirement. He retreated to the glass pyramid he had erected on the roof of the Chelsea Hotel in New York, where he would remain for the rest of his life.He attempted to break into Hollywood, auditioning for a role alongside Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon, but was passed over. Attempts to record a third album never got beyond the demo stage; there was also talk of a presumably autobiographical rock musical, to be titled Pop Star. It, too, never came to fruition, and by the early '80s, Jobriath was working as a singer in a New York cocktail bar. He passed away in July 1983, of AIDS-related illnesses.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:00 (thirteen years ago)
This better be true: He retreated to the glass pyramid he had erected on the roof of the Chelsea Hotel in New York, where he would remain for the rest of his life.
― aztec table rapper (seandalai), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:04 (thirteen years ago)
sorry I could not resist
http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y176/edwardiii/xgau_on_jailbreak.jpg
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:05 (thirteen years ago)
ooh that's tiny try this
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:06 (thirteen years ago)
Ha-ha, I can't personally verify, I was just a wee lad, but it was in the liner notes!
RS reviewer's complaint about Lynott's "Oh, poor Romeo, sitting all on his own-eo," is a sign of RS's general decline where they gradually forget that they're reviewing rock 'n' roll records, not grading English papers. It's like correcting the grammar of The Troggs.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:06 (thirteen years ago)
Tho P. Lynott did like to portray himself as a poet of sorts
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:09 (thirteen years ago)
so did springsteen
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:10 (thirteen years ago)
Ban Macumba!
(xposts)
― Mark G, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:11 (thirteen years ago)
romeo / owneo is a couplet so terrible that once conceived it must be shared with the world else you have failed as a wordsmith
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:12 (thirteen years ago)
Has Springsteen ever published a book of poetry though? (There's a thread waiting there)
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:13 (thirteen years ago)
193. HENRY COW/SLAPP HAPPY In Praise Of Learning (1326 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #96 for 1975 , #3765 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/094/MI0002094009.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Cow dominated In Praise of Learning, which initially seems like another great A-side/lousy B-side deal, but proves far more problematic than that. The first side contains just two cuts: Anthony Moore/Peter Blegvad's "War," which melds music worthy of Kurt Weill to some witty, bitter Blegvad mythologizing, and Cow keyboardist Tim Hodgkinson's "Living in the Heart of the Beast," a musical magnificence nearly sunk by its lyrics. It's not that the political analysis is way off base, but concepts this cerebral defy the anthemic spirit the band so clearly wants to evoke. Nice try, but basically a longwinded preach to the most likely converted. The otherwise excellent "Beautiful as the Moon ? Terrible as an Army with Banners" (sandwiched between two dull "free" pieces) suffers from pretty much the same problem. (The ESD CD has an added track.) -- Trouser Press
reviewby Ted MillsA team-up with Slapp Happy may seem an obvious meeting of minds in 2000, but not at the time (1975) when all they really shared was a Marxist outlook and a record label (Virgin). The two bands had already recorded Desperate Straights, which focused more on songs and Dagmar Krause's vocals. Here, Krause gets one good song, the terrific Kurt Weill-esque "War" (subsequently covered by the Fall many years later), which leads off the album. "Living in the Heart of the Beast" takes up the rest of side one, and in long form Kraus seems lost. There's some free noise on side two, and it's a bit of a waste seeing Mongezi Feza among others play on the album. The best thing to take away from this meeting is that it went on to produce Art Bears, News From Babel, and several other groups made up from this spectacular personnel.
A team-up with Slapp Happy may seem an obvious meeting of minds in 2000, but not at the time (1975) when all they really shared was a Marxist outlook and a record label (Virgin). The two bands had already recorded Desperate Straights, which focused more on songs and Dagmar Krause's vocals. Here, Krause gets one good song, the terrific Kurt Weill-esque "War" (subsequently covered by the Fall many years later), which leads off the album. "Living in the Heart of the Beast" takes up the rest of side one, and in long form Kraus seems lost. There's some free noise on side two, and it's a bit of a waste seeing Mongezi Feza among others play on the album. The best thing to take away from this meeting is that it went on to produce Art Bears, News From Babel, and several other groups made up from this spectacular personnel.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
if he were drunk and irish he would've
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
sock!
― Mordy, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
DAGMAAAAAAAR
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
Sock sock sock!
('War' is great.)
― emil.y, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:16 (thirteen years ago)
not that this poll isn't a herculean effort as it is, but I wish some of the non-spotify albs had youtube links.
here's NO NEW YORK
http://youtu.be/HoSLo9Y9z9o
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:23 (thirteen years ago)
When did this thing of putting whole albums on youtube start?
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:27 (thirteen years ago)
192. PERE UBU Dub Housing (1327 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #35 for 1978 , #1410 overall | Acclaimed: #757http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/473/MI0002473397.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Because I trust the way Ubu's visionary humor and crackpot commitment rocks out and/or hooks in for the sheer pleasure of it, I'm willing to go with their excursions into musique concrete, and on this record they get me somewhere. The death of Peter Laughner may well have deprived America of its greatest punk band, but the subsequent ascendancy of synth wizard Allen Ravenstine has defined a survival-prone community capable of bridging the '60s and the '80s without acting as if the '70s never happened. Imitating randomness by tucking randomlike sounds into deep but tactfully casual structures, joyfully confusing organic and inorganic sounds, they teach us how to live in the industrial shift--imaginatively! A -- R. ChristgauThe spectacular Dub Housing accentuates the more amorphous qualities of the band's sound, drawing heavily on synthesizer player Allen Ravenstine's utterly original soundscaping ability. Songs like "Codex," "Caligari's Mirror" and the ominous title track conjure up images straight out of art-house psychological horror films like Carnival of Souls. Simply one of the most important post-punk recordings. -- Trouser Press
The spectacular Dub Housing accentuates the more amorphous qualities of the band's sound, drawing heavily on synthesizer player Allen Ravenstine's utterly original soundscaping ability. Songs like "Codex," "Caligari's Mirror" and the ominous title track conjure up images straight out of art-house psychological horror films like Carnival of Souls. Simply one of the most important post-punk recordings. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by John DouganThough Pere Ubu's tenure on Mercury lasted one record, their departure for their unlikely home of Chrysalis (at the time the label of Jethro Tull) resulted in Dub Housing, widely considered their masterpiece. Darker and more difficult than The Modern Dance (indicated by the cover's darkened apartment complex and stormy Cleveland skyline) with plenty of bleak soundscapes (e.g., "Codex"), Dub Housing also includes "Navvy"'s bouncy burble (featuring Thomas yelping "I have desires!"), and "(Pa) Ubu Dance Party"'s surreal big beat. Make no mistake, as much as Ubu indulged in arty dissonance and mucked about with song structure, this is very much a rock & roll record, albeit one made by a band interested in pushing the envelope when it came to sound, song construction, and performance. As much as this is a band effort, the guitar of Tom Herman and the synthesizer of Allen Ravenstine frequently stand out. Herman's strong, polished playing veers from assertive riffing to assaultive noise; Ravenstine, who may be one of the all-time great synth players, colors the sound with ominous whooshes of distortions, blips, and blurbs that sound like a sped-up Pong game. But, as is often the case with Ubu, it's David Thomas' singing (here at its most engagingly unrestrained) that is front and center. Part comic foil, part raging madman, Thomas utilizes all of his limited range in a whacked expressiveness built around hiccups, yodels, screeches, and, sometimes, singing. Dub Housing sold next to nothing and signaled the beginning of the end of Ubu's relationship with Chrysalis, but it remains an important and influential American rock record.
Though Pere Ubu's tenure on Mercury lasted one record, their departure for their unlikely home of Chrysalis (at the time the label of Jethro Tull) resulted in Dub Housing, widely considered their masterpiece. Darker and more difficult than The Modern Dance (indicated by the cover's darkened apartment complex and stormy Cleveland skyline) with plenty of bleak soundscapes (e.g., "Codex"), Dub Housing also includes "Navvy"'s bouncy burble (featuring Thomas yelping "I have desires!"), and "(Pa) Ubu Dance Party"'s surreal big beat. Make no mistake, as much as Ubu indulged in arty dissonance and mucked about with song structure, this is very much a rock & roll record, albeit one made by a band interested in pushing the envelope when it came to sound, song construction, and performance. As much as this is a band effort, the guitar of Tom Herman and the synthesizer of Allen Ravenstine frequently stand out. Herman's strong, polished playing veers from assertive riffing to assaultive noise; Ravenstine, who may be one of the all-time great synth players, colors the sound with ominous whooshes of distortions, blips, and blurbs that sound like a sped-up Pong game. But, as is often the case with Ubu, it's David Thomas' singing (here at its most engagingly unrestrained) that is front and center. Part comic foil, part raging madman, Thomas utilizes all of his limited range in a whacked expressiveness built around hiccups, yodels, screeches, and, sometimes, singing. Dub Housing sold next to nothing and signaled the beginning of the end of Ubu's relationship with Chrysalis, but it remains an important and influential American rock record.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:30 (thirteen years ago)
here's the youtube for dub housing
http://youtu.be/esGmvG7eOe8
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:39 (thirteen years ago)
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, March 21, 2013 2:27 PM (11 minutes ago)
when they started running ads before them and adding links to buy the album being streamed?
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:45 (thirteen years ago)
191. ARMAND SCHAUBROECK Ratfucker (1335 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #443 for 1978[img]http://img.cdandlp.com/2013/02/imgL/115877340.jpg[img]
With Ratfucker, Schaubroeck created the masterpiece he'd been building toward. Were it not for the indelicate title and similarly strong language throughout, this concept album about death and depravity might have finally found him a major audience. Schaubroeck ? as Lou Reed has also done, especially on The Blue Mask ? posits himself as an assortment of wretched characters ? a flesh peddler, a hired killer, an abuser of women ? and sneers his way to disconcerting believability against a musical backdrop of excellent uptempo rock and funk. Cinematic and convincing, obscuring the line between art and life,Ratfucker uses horns and a background chorus to complement the characters' singing, talking and growling. In painting images of villains who wear their sickness like a badge, Schaubroeck delivers a rough, stunning tour de force. -- Trouser Press
The darkest and best of Armand Schaubroeck's onslaught of recordings from the '70s, this descent into the gutter is the underground version of Lou Reed's Street Hassle. Both recordings were released in 1978, and both feature the artist on the cover with sunglasses reflecting a twinkle from the light. Schaubroeck may have been mimicking what Reed put out to the world -- Street Hassle was released in March of 1978, Ratfucker recorded in June and released sometime after -- but regardless of the intentional cop, Schaubroeck sure is persuasive. Street Hassle is Reed once again on the outside looking in; as with Berlin, his narration is detached from the violence he explores. Armand Schaubroeck, on the other hand, is a convicted criminal, so the rat with a knife through its throat on the front cover, dripping blood on Schaubroeck's hand, is totally believable. "Ratfucker," the title track, is the best Lou Reed song Reed never wrote, but there is no doubt this is spawned from the former leader of the Velvet Underground's work. The three minutes and 47 seconds of depravity are perfectly recorded, unlike the Richard Robinson/Lou Reed experiment with "binaural sound." No -- Ratfucker has the sound and the vibe promised by Street Hassle, the unnerving, cold, heartless tale of a man who robs babies and sells them for 4,000 dollars to perspective parents: "Anything you want C.O.D. baby/C.O.D. on my block." The vocal, the intensity of the backing singers, the band, and the production -- everything is first-rate. "Oh sex, I gave it up a long time ago," sings the Ratf*cker. The scat "whaddya want" at the end conflicting with the girl singers, keyboards, and pounding drums is just great dementia. It is a classic track that trumps the master. And the rest of the album is right up there, a pseudo-rockabilly "I Love Me, More Than You," "The Independent Hitter's" driving sound with looping guitars. This album has so many vulgarities the listener becomes numb to the F word, but if ever music can be made to disperse pent-up aggression, this might be it. What rappers would eventually put a beat behind, Armand Schaubroeck rattles off with a worrisome ease. "I doubt if you'll ever hear this record on the radio" is written under the Mirror Records logo, and that may be true, but perhaps radio needs to play an album like Ratfucker. "The Queen Hitter" is an 11-minute-and-40-second epic which vacillates between nicking the James Bond theme and "Zip a Dee Doo Dah," while cleverly avoiding already explored riffs; the album is careful to show a sick creativity. Armand Schaubroeck's voice has a disturbing glee that romps throughout each track with the authority of a hitman. This is truly demented genius and is light years beyond shock. It is a relatively unknown writer/singer coming up with an extraordinary work under his own steam and on his own terms. Classic underground rock & roll that is not for everyone.
RatfuckerWhen I first saw that brand new copy of Armand Schaubroeck's Ratfucker, I knew then and there that it had to be mine. I even tore off the shrink-wrap and looked inside, knowing that this action meant that all the Probe staff now considered it unsellable to anyone else but me. Ratfucker! What genius was contained inside? Straight away, I saw that the album was dedicated to another semi-hero of mine, the late Peter Laughner, who had started Pere Ubu then killed himself one year earlier through sheer physical abuse. And there on the inside sleeve, taped on with love, was a free shocking pink plectrum, inscribed with the single word 'Ratfucker'! Wow! Even Armand had surpassed himself this time. I took the album to the Probe staff, who put it away for me until I could afford it, and, just one week later, I placed it lovingly on to my turntable. Yes, the record was great. A masterpiece. Hell, Armand said "Fuck" at least 20 times in every song. He said it so gratuitously that I was shocked. And his music was a bizarre combination of Lou Reed, Iggy Pop and a disgusting bar band. What was it all about? I didn't know, but I didn't care. I was finally listening to Armand Schaubroeck and enjoying it!The album was meant to depict life on one block of Armand's city, and took snapshots of small time gangsters/hoods amassing their measly fortunes at the expense of terrorised locals. The opening title track had Armand as the underworld boss talking to a bunch of businessmen from a furniture convention from out of time. All are here to get laid by whatever means necessary and, throughout, Armand brags psychotically about being able to bring them anything, just so long as you tell him "what you want, what you want, what you want!" Other songs such as "Gigolo Gigolo" and "I love me more than you" depicted Armand as a rent boy of advancing years, doing anything to keep his over-fucked ass at the top of the pile. "Buried Alive" was pure Iggy wailing and complaining, while the whole soundscape was American rock with wailing siren synthesizers and burning ernie-ernie-ing guitars. Apart from the sicko "Pre-teen Mama", side two was entirely given over to an equally sicko 14-minute death epic called "The Queen Hitter"! - Julian Cope.
When I first saw that brand new copy of Armand Schaubroeck's Ratfucker, I knew then and there that it had to be mine. I even tore off the shrink-wrap and looked inside, knowing that this action meant that all the Probe staff now considered it unsellable to anyone else but me. Ratfucker! What genius was contained inside? Straight away, I saw that the album was dedicated to another semi-hero of mine, the late Peter Laughner, who had started Pere Ubu then killed himself one year earlier through sheer physical abuse. And there on the inside sleeve, taped on with love, was a free shocking pink plectrum, inscribed with the single word 'Ratfucker'! Wow! Even Armand had surpassed himself this time. I took the album to the Probe staff, who put it away for me until I could afford it, and, just one week later, I placed it lovingly on to my turntable. Yes, the record was great. A masterpiece. Hell, Armand said "Fuck" at least 20 times in every song. He said it so gratuitously that I was shocked. And his music was a bizarre combination of Lou Reed, Iggy Pop and a disgusting bar band. What was it all about? I didn't know, but I didn't care. I was finally listening to Armand Schaubroeck and enjoying it!
The album was meant to depict life on one block of Armand's city, and took snapshots of small time gangsters/hoods amassing their measly fortunes at the expense of terrorised locals. The opening title track had Armand as the underworld boss talking to a bunch of businessmen from a furniture convention from out of time. All are here to get laid by whatever means necessary and, throughout, Armand brags psychotically about being able to bring them anything, just so long as you tell him "what you want, what you want, what you want!" Other songs such as "Gigolo Gigolo" and "I love me more than you" depicted Armand as a rent boy of advancing years, doing anything to keep his over-fucked ass at the top of the pile. "Buried Alive" was pure Iggy wailing and complaining, while the whole soundscape was American rock with wailing siren synthesizers and burning ernie-ernie-ing guitars. Apart from the sicko "Pre-teen Mama", side two was entirely given over to an equally sicko 14-minute death epic called "The Queen Hitter"! - Julian Cope.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:47 (thirteen years ago)
191. ARMAND SCHAUBROECK Ratfucker (1335 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #443 for 1978http://img.cdandlp.com/2013/02/imgL/115877340.jpg
RatfuckerWhen I first saw that brand new copy of Armand Schaubroeck's Ratfucker, I knew then and there that it had to be mine. I even tore off the shrink-wrap and looked inside, knowing that this action meant that all the Probe staff now considered it unsellable to anyone else but me. Ratfucker! What genius was contained inside? Straight away, I saw that the album was dedicated to another semi-hero of mine, the late Peter Laughner, who had started Pere Ubu then killed himself one year earlier through sheer physical abuse. And there on the inside sleeve, taped on with love, was a free shocking pink plectrum, inscribed with the single word 'Ratfucker'! Wow! Even Armand had surpassed himself this time. I took the album to the Probe staff, who put it away for me until I could afford it, and, just one week later, I placed it lovingly on to my turntable. Yes, the record was great. A masterpiece. Hell, Armand said "Fuck" at least 20 times in every song. He said it so gratuitously that I was shocked. And his music was a bizarre combination of Lou Reed, Iggy Pop and a disgusting bar band. What was it all about? I didn't know, but I didn't care. I was finally listening to Armand Schaubroeck and enjoying it!The album was meant to depict life on one block of Armand's city, and took snapshots of small time gangsters/hoods amassing their measly fortunes at the expense of terrorised locals. The opening title track had Armand as the underworld boss talking to a bunch of businessmen from a furniture convention from out of time. All are here to get laid by whatever means necessary and, throughout, Armand brags psychotically about being able to bring them anything, just so long as you tell him "what you want, what you want, what you want!" Other songs such as "Gigolo Gigolo" and "I love me more than you" depicted Armand as a rent boy of advancing years, doing anything to keep his over-fucked ass at the top of the pile. "Buried Alive" was pure Iggy wailing and complaining, while the whole soundscape was American rock with wailing siren synthesizers and burning ernie-ernie-ing guitars. Apart from the sicko "Pre-teen Mama", side two was entirely given over to an equally sicko 14-minute death epic called "The Queen Hitter"! -- Julian Cope.
The album was meant to depict life on one block of Armand's city, and took snapshots of small time gangsters/hoods amassing their measly fortunes at the expense of terrorised locals. The opening title track had Armand as the underworld boss talking to a bunch of businessmen from a furniture convention from out of time. All are here to get laid by whatever means necessary and, throughout, Armand brags psychotically about being able to bring them anything, just so long as you tell him "what you want, what you want, what you want!" Other songs such as "Gigolo Gigolo" and "I love me more than you" depicted Armand as a rent boy of advancing years, doing anything to keep his over-fucked ass at the top of the pile. "Buried Alive" was pure Iggy wailing and complaining, while the whole soundscape was American rock with wailing siren synthesizers and burning ernie-ernie-ing guitars. Apart from the sicko "Pre-teen Mama", side two was entirely given over to an equally sicko 14-minute death epic called "The Queen Hitter"! -- Julian Cope.
Do you get to do 'too low' shouts, AG? Or do you have to remain impartial?
― emil.y, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:48 (thirteen years ago)
"I prefer Springsteen's jingle bell bullshit to this because real rock 'n' roll makes me feel frightened and small." That's beautiful, lol. Let's see how long it stays up there!
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:49 (thirteen years ago)
emil.y I'm amazed it placed this high tbh. But it's nice some people have been listening to me. It really is a good record. Not for the faint-hearted though. More than 20 F words per song I'm sure!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:51 (thirteen years ago)
that's cool. It's a phenomenon that passed me by is all.
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Thursday, 21 March 2013 18:59 (thirteen years ago)
EIII,Hellhouse & Stirmonster esp need hear it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:00 (thirteen years ago)
190. CRAMPS Gravest Hits (1340 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #1 for 1979 , #55 overallhttps://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSkGydJosfP4JFZnFAgW89robqelq0Oi2tyPUd6K7Es9aqMMEdW9Q
One hears loose talk of minimalism from their demented admirers, but except for a few realists, which these artistes ain't, cartoonists are minimalists by definition. So how do they draw? Crudely, but with an undeniable flair. And are they good for a few laughs? Boiled down to greatest jokes they are. My favorite is "She Said"'s slavering geezer. B+ -- R. ChristgauPredating and never quite participating in the early '80s rockabilly revival, the Cramps used that genre's primal sound as a jumping-off point for a uniquely weird pastiche of rock'n'roll, psychedelia and a monster movie/junk food/swamp-creature aesthetic. Led by uninhibited vocalist Lux Interior (Ohio native Erick Purkhiser, who was clearly a student of Cleveland television's Ghoulardi) and guitarist Poison Ivy Rorschach (California native Kirsty Wallace), the band had its roots in Cleveland but was actually formed in New York. (Drummer Miriam Linna, guitarist Bryan Gregory, drummer Nick Knox and guitarist Kid Congo Powers are among the Cramps' illustrious alumni, who all went on to spread the bad word far and wide among the faithful.) After two self-released 45s in '77, the Cramps crashed the 12-inch barrier with Gravest Hits, reissuing all four songs from those records plus a fifth track from the same time, all produced by Alex Chilton. -- Trouser Press
Predating and never quite participating in the early '80s rockabilly revival, the Cramps used that genre's primal sound as a jumping-off point for a uniquely weird pastiche of rock'n'roll, psychedelia and a monster movie/junk food/swamp-creature aesthetic. Led by uninhibited vocalist Lux Interior (Ohio native Erick Purkhiser, who was clearly a student of Cleveland television's Ghoulardi) and guitarist Poison Ivy Rorschach (California native Kirsty Wallace), the band had its roots in Cleveland but was actually formed in New York. (Drummer Miriam Linna, guitarist Bryan Gregory, drummer Nick Knox and guitarist Kid Congo Powers are among the Cramps' illustrious alumni, who all went on to spread the bad word far and wide among the faithful.) After two self-released 45s in '77, the Cramps crashed the 12-inch barrier with Gravest Hits, reissuing all four songs from those records plus a fifth track from the same time, all produced by Alex Chilton. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by David ClearyThis first release by the Cramps shows the group laying out many of the aspects of their curious style in rudimentary fashion. Raw, slashing guitar playing derived mostly from rockabilly and somewhat from psychedelic and 1960s garage pop (the group would have no bass player until the mid-'80s) and primitive drumming provide the platform for Lux Interior's eccentric singing, which is best described as a hyper-crazed, reverb-drenched, exhibitionist rockabilly style complete with groaning, shouting, growling, and hiccuping effects. The only song written by the band here is "Human Fly," a skulking mid-tempo fuzz-guitar number with monster movie lyrics; the line "I got 96 tears/And 96 eyes" is a sly reference to the ? and the Mysterians garage band hit. The other selections are covers of classic 1950s and 1960s songs; these include a bizarre version of the Ricky Nelson crooning hit "Lonesome Town" that peppers the musical texture with stray guitar interjections, and a rip-snorting version of the Trashmen song "Surfin' Bird" that ends with a long, noisy improvisation section of doubtful tonal focus. The cavernous sound quality here lends a certain bleak feel to the music, but distortions on the vocal in "Human Fly" and drums on "Lonesome Town" merely sound poor. This unpolished but effective release is worth hearing.
This first release by the Cramps shows the group laying out many of the aspects of their curious style in rudimentary fashion. Raw, slashing guitar playing derived mostly from rockabilly and somewhat from psychedelic and 1960s garage pop (the group would have no bass player until the mid-'80s) and primitive drumming provide the platform for Lux Interior's eccentric singing, which is best described as a hyper-crazed, reverb-drenched, exhibitionist rockabilly style complete with groaning, shouting, growling, and hiccuping effects. The only song written by the band here is "Human Fly," a skulking mid-tempo fuzz-guitar number with monster movie lyrics; the line "I got 96 tears/And 96 eyes" is a sly reference to the ? and the Mysterians garage band hit. The other selections are covers of classic 1950s and 1960s songs; these include a bizarre version of the Ricky Nelson crooning hit "Lonesome Town" that peppers the musical texture with stray guitar interjections, and a rip-snorting version of the Trashmen song "Surfin' Bird" that ends with a long, noisy improvisation section of doubtful tonal focus. The cavernous sound quality here lends a certain bleak feel to the music, but distortions on the vocal in "Human Fly" and drums on "Lonesome Town" merely sound poor. This unpolished but effective release is worth hearing.
ladies and gentlemen, it is a great honor and pleasure for me to present to you this ratfucker
http://youtu.be/gAsvsNpk0Es
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:03 (thirteen years ago)
That might be the highest rated album on RYM so far. And for a short 5-song EP.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:05 (thirteen years ago)
gravest hits playlist, such a classic EP
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahJng46BDXA&list=PL7F82DC32F5337547
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:09 (thirteen years ago)
oops, didn't think playlist links would embed
fuck it it's the cramps deal with it
Good to see Subway Sect in there. The Retrospective album referred to in the review, released in 83, is a glorious thing.
― Dr X O'Skeleton, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:14 (thirteen years ago)
189. BLACK SABBATH Sabotage (1353 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #24 for 1975 , #870 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/607/MI0000607959.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3WgVVwBZiZusDBahwN2L57
One of the most formidable artistic panoramas of all time, Sabotage is a tour de force from a quartet improbably tormented by the demons of genius and more probably towel-whipped by the gnomes of stupidity. One giant leap beyond a universe wholly self-created, into detailed worlds fully incomprehensible in mere language, Black Sabbath trap then emanate an unwilling and vengeful muse into the deepest, fullest, and most colourful drama of psychoses ever ventured. Punishingly lead-poisoned or elsewhere punishingly dulled by ether, Sabotage is a frightening cascade of contrasting activities, all tied with a choking thread of spoken dementia from an Ozzy bent on mutually pained destruction. Far beyond evil, this is an unearthly yet man-made- man-administered program, main goal being a slow erosion of thought processes. From Vol 4-style noise fest Hole in the Sky, one envisions fearful glimpses of the apocalypse, which then descends to roost on the neck of the world through riff monster "Symptom of the Universe," relentless management tirade "Megalomania," the exquisitely-riffed "The Thrill of It All" to an awful conclusion with "The Writ, Hell on Horse," redemption through pummeling, sheer volume and a secluded forest of nothingness. And "Supertzar" and "Am I Going Insane (Radio)" rodents better left undersexed. The original coma of souls, Sabotage refuses to push conventional air--as if heard outside of time--the album essentially presenting its absurd fat cat self as one piece, one moment, one nightmare, a ludicrously progressive, break-the-rules outpouring of ideas from the complexity of this record, as you may do with many other of your personality's black vinyl and shiny silver building blocks, for love, hate, anger and indeed pedestrian human processes of any kind have no seed here. View Sabotage only through the cold, detached nerve ends of your intellect. All other approaches will meet certain incineration in collision with an unconceded, unrepeentant, unimaginable collection of psychic machinations. 10/10 -- M. PopoffSabotage is not only Black Sabbath's best record since Paranoid, it might be their best ever. Even with the usual themes of death, destruction and mental illness running throughout this album, the unleashed frenzy and raw energy they've returned to here comes like a breath of fresh air."Symptom of the Universe" rambles on, an atonal riff-based crusher, then shifts for a coda of lightly paced acousting jamming. "Megalomania" is an inversion of that, erupting into a hard rocker with a hummable chorus before it's slammed home in a quake of phasing and feedback. For diversion, there's "Supertzar," which features the English Chamber Choir chaning off an off-time splurge of guitar phrases. Black Sabbath loyalists will no doubt love this record and those who've never bothered may even want to indulge. -- Billy Altman, RS
Sabotage is not only Black Sabbath's best record since Paranoid, it might be their best ever. Even with the usual themes of death, destruction and mental illness running throughout this album, the unleashed frenzy and raw energy they've returned to here comes like a breath of fresh air.
"Symptom of the Universe" rambles on, an atonal riff-based crusher, then shifts for a coda of lightly paced acousting jamming. "Megalomania" is an inversion of that, erupting into a hard rocker with a hummable chorus before it's slammed home in a quake of phasing and feedback. For diversion, there's "Supertzar," which features the English Chamber Choir chaning off an off-time splurge of guitar phrases. Black Sabbath loyalists will no doubt love this record and those who've never bothered may even want to indulge. -- Billy Altman, RS
review[-] by Steve HueySabotage is the final release of Black Sabbath's legendary First Six, and it's also the least celebrated of the bunch, though most die-hard fans would consider it criminally underrated. The band continues further down the proto-prog metal road of Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, and this time around, the synthesizers feel more organically integrated into the arrangements. What's more, the song structures generally feel less conventional and more challenging. There's one significant exception in the blatant pop tune "Am I Going Insane (Radio)," which rivals "Changes" as the most fan-loathed song of the glory years, thanks to its synth-driven arrangement (there isn't even a guitar riff!) and oft-repeated one-line chorus. But other than that song and the terrific album opener, "Hole in the Sky," the band largely eschews the standard verse-chorus format, sticking to one or two melody lines per riffed section and changing up the feel before things get too repetitive. The prevalence of this writing approach means that Sabotage rivals Vol. 4 as the least accessible record of Sabbath's glory years. However, given time, the compositional logic reveals itself, and most of the record will burn itself into the listener's brain just fine. The faster than usual "Symptom of the Universe" is a stone-cold classic, its sinister main riff sounding like the first seed from which the New Wave of British Heavy Metal would sprout (not to mention an obvious blueprint for Diamond Head's "Am I Evil?"). Like several songs on the record, "Symptom" features unexpected acoustic breaks and softer dynamics, yet never loses its drive or focus, and always feels like Sabbath. Less immediate but still rewarding are "Thrill of It All," with its triumphant final section, and the murky, sullen "Megalomania," which never feels as long as its nearly nine and a half minutes. But more than the compositions, the real revelation on Sabotage is Ozzy Osbourne, who turns in his finest vocal performance as a member of Black Sabbath. Really for the first time, this is the Ozzy we all know, displaying enough range, power, and confidence to foreshadow his hugely successful solo career. He saves the best for last with album closer "The Writ," one of the few Sabbath songs where his vocal lines are more memorable than Tony Iommi's guitar parts; running through several moods over the course of the song's eight minutes, it's one of the best performances of his career, bar none. Unfortunately, after Sabotage, the wheels of confusion came off entirely. Yes, there were technically two more albums, but for the non-obsessive, the story of Osbourne-era Sabbath effectively ends here.
Sabotage is the final release of Black Sabbath's legendary First Six, and it's also the least celebrated of the bunch, though most die-hard fans would consider it criminally underrated. The band continues further down the proto-prog metal road of Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, and this time around, the synthesizers feel more organically integrated into the arrangements. What's more, the song structures generally feel less conventional and more challenging. There's one significant exception in the blatant pop tune "Am I Going Insane (Radio)," which rivals "Changes" as the most fan-loathed song of the glory years, thanks to its synth-driven arrangement (there isn't even a guitar riff!) and oft-repeated one-line chorus. But other than that song and the terrific album opener, "Hole in the Sky," the band largely eschews the standard verse-chorus format, sticking to one or two melody lines per riffed section and changing up the feel before things get too repetitive. The prevalence of this writing approach means that Sabotage rivals Vol. 4 as the least accessible record of Sabbath's glory years. However, given time, the compositional logic reveals itself, and most of the record will burn itself into the listener's brain just fine. The faster than usual "Symptom of the Universe" is a stone-cold classic, its sinister main riff sounding like the first seed from which the New Wave of British Heavy Metal would sprout (not to mention an obvious blueprint for Diamond Head's "Am I Evil?"). Like several songs on the record, "Symptom" features unexpected acoustic breaks and softer dynamics, yet never loses its drive or focus, and always feels like Sabbath. Less immediate but still rewarding are "Thrill of It All," with its triumphant final section, and the murky, sullen "Megalomania," which never feels as long as its nearly nine and a half minutes. But more than the compositions, the real revelation on Sabotage is Ozzy Osbourne, who turns in his finest vocal performance as a member of Black Sabbath. Really for the first time, this is the Ozzy we all know, displaying enough range, power, and confidence to foreshadow his hugely successful solo career. He saves the best for last with album closer "The Writ," one of the few Sabbath songs where his vocal lines are more memorable than Tony Iommi's guitar parts; running through several moods over the course of the song's eight minutes, it's one of the best performances of his career, bar none. Unfortunately, after Sabotage, the wheels of confusion came off entirely. Yes, there were technically two more albums, but for the non-obsessive, the story of Osbourne-era Sabbath effectively ends here.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:15 (thirteen years ago)
sabotage for us colonists who can't get it on spotify
http://youtu.be/45S2RPlcLkQ
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:23 (thirteen years ago)
wow, wtf, listening to Ratfucker on youtube right now and it's pretty fucking awesome.
― herr doktor (askance johnson), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:24 (thirteen years ago)
you'll always remember yr first time
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:24 (thirteen years ago)
a-side of sabotage their most perfect since the a-side of paranoid
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:25 (thirteen years ago)
I guess I should give up on Heart of Glass :(
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:30 (thirteen years ago)
188. RESIDENTS Meet the Residents (1354 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #103 for 1974 , #3806 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/077/MI0002077036.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2hk3L6QimRLFY1zqgrDsqL
Although they've had the benefit of considerable prowess, courtesy friends like the late guitarist Philip (Snakefinger) Lithman, the Residents have never pretended to instrumental virtuosity and have often sounded goofy, even downright silly. Yet one of their fortes is assembling seemingly simple-minded elements into mosaics of subtlety and complexity; even without benefit of the synthesizers now available, the "phonetic (re)organization" principle, an evident ability to manipulate tapes and an ornery creative vision resulted in the impressive sonic assemblages of their earliest releases ? even on the debut LP, 1974'sMeet the Residents (the CD of which includes the even earlier "Santa Dog" double 45; four attempted albums ? only two completed ? that preceded "Santa Dog" were never released). -- Trouser Press
review[-] by David ClearyThe Residents are true avant-garde crazies. Their earliest albums (of which this is the first) have precedents in Captain Beefheart's experimental albums, Frank Zappa's conceptual numbers from Freak Out!, the work of Steve Reich, and the compositions of chance music tonemeister John Cage -- yet The Residents' work of this time really sounds like nothing else that exists. All of the music on this release consists of deconstructions of countless rock and non-rock styles, which are then grafted together to create chaotic, formless, seemingly haphazard numbers; the first six "songs" (including a fragment from the Nancy Sinatra hit "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'") are strung together to form a larger entity similar in concept to the following lengthier selections. The result is a series of unique, odd, challenging numbers that are nevertheless not entirely successful. The album cover is a fierce burlesque of the Beatles' first U.S. Capitol label release, sporting puerilely doctored photographs of the Fab Four on the front and pictures of collarless-suited sea denizens on the back (identified as Paul McCrawfish, Ringo Starfish, and the like). This is an utterly bizarre platter that may appeal to very adventurous listeners.
The Residents are true avant-garde crazies. Their earliest albums (of which this is the first) have precedents in Captain Beefheart's experimental albums, Frank Zappa's conceptual numbers from Freak Out!, the work of Steve Reich, and the compositions of chance music tonemeister John Cage -- yet The Residents' work of this time really sounds like nothing else that exists. All of the music on this release consists of deconstructions of countless rock and non-rock styles, which are then grafted together to create chaotic, formless, seemingly haphazard numbers; the first six "songs" (including a fragment from the Nancy Sinatra hit "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'") are strung together to form a larger entity similar in concept to the following lengthier selections. The result is a series of unique, odd, challenging numbers that are nevertheless not entirely successful. The album cover is a fierce burlesque of the Beatles' first U.S. Capitol label release, sporting puerilely doctored photographs of the Fab Four on the front and pictures of collarless-suited sea denizens on the back (identified as Paul McCrawfish, Ringo Starfish, and the like). This is an utterly bizarre platter that may appeal to very adventurous listeners.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:32 (thirteen years ago)
Who's that wearing the red tights, Bill? Geezer? Makes him look like a Smurf, packing a baby armadillo ;)
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:32 (thirteen years ago)
EIII, I still fondly remember that "I voted for sabbath" post. that was a classic!
― wk, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:35 (thirteen years ago)
Think A.R. & Machines - The Green Journey might be favorite find of the rollout so far.Also the title track to Guru Guru - UFO is kind of incredible (not so mad about some of the rest of the album though).
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:37 (thirteen years ago)
Oh and All In Your Mind by Stray really is fantastic - my vote for their album was mainly based on that.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:39 (thirteen years ago)
What this thread is lacking is sordid tales of rock 'n' roll excess. Step it up! I suppose most here were not old enough or not even born yet. Poor excuse. I have a crazy Sabbath-related story and I was only 8! I'm saving it for when one of the first three albums show up.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:40 (thirteen years ago)
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, March 21, 2013 3:30 PM (9 minutes ago)
hey I gave up on red transistor in the trax poll and it came in at #69
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:42 (thirteen years ago)
also the name of the song was "not bite" the jokes just write themselves
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:43 (thirteen years ago)
187. PINK FAIRIES What A Bunch Of Sweeties (1356 Points, 9 Votes)RYM: #810 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/717/MI0001717944.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0RMM6qmvvLLTkPusmFoCqf
Despite a fair measure of artistic confusion and the lack of a real vocalist, What a Bunch of Sweeties is an offbeat and occasionally exciting, but now totally dated, guitar-rock (plus drum solo) record. -- Trouser Press
The Seth Man, July 2002ce“What A Bunch of Sweeties” is generally considered to be The Fairies’ weakest of their three main Polydor albums, but it’s an unfair comparison. Sure, the albums that chronologically flanked it fore and aft WERE better focused, maintained a consistently higher level of energy and direction throughout, etc. But The Pink Fairies were a casual proposition to begin with and based in all manner of freak flag flying in front of an anarchic musical backdrop of incorrigible racket making. Destined to be a group unrecognised for stability in any degree, the departure of Twink (their vocalist, drummer and songwriter) a year before the release of “Sweeties” left The Fairies as a trio comprised of Paul Rudolph (guitar and vocals), Sandy Sanderson (bass), Russell Hunter (drums) with occasional augmentation from ex-Move guitarist, Trevor Burton. This caused a songwriting void that fell to Rudolph to fill and gather the songwriting reins much as he did three years earlier on The Deviants’ third, self-titled album. First and foremost a musician, Rudolph rose to the lyrical challenge by inserting guitar solos all over, vocally directing the tracks just off-microphone throughout and unveiling his newly acquired Leslie speaker system, through which the majority of his playing would be fed.“Sweeties” is a mystifying jumble of tracks as exuberant as they are shambolic, though resonating for most of the time with a simple clarity of feeling and passion. Despite Burton’s second guitar veering into down-market space boogie on two tracks and the appearance of two minor piss-takes, many moments of raw excellence makes “Sweeties” hang together in a crazy patchwork as much as the front cover of road manager Boss Goodman’s collection of underground paraphernalia. Furthermore, they both reflect accurately the state of the then-current flagging togetherness of the London underground which was already eroding under pressures both internal and external but still maintaining a presence, albeit wearily.After the botched fake telephone skit of “Prologue” comes the boogie stomp anthem, “Right On, Fight On” as it cuts in after a false start. Relating the story of a police break-up at one of The Fairies’ free gigs with Hawkwind underneath the Westway overpass just off the Portobello Road, it’s rough and loose as hell. Russell Hunter stomps through the whole thing as Rudolph continues with hoarse exhortations of the title, to “come together” and to “keep a strong position” in a rallying cry over the loosest, blareing-est of street jams. “Portobello Shuffle” opens with a rollicking riff and another wake up call to “Roll out of your seats/Get out in the streets/There’s a new day a-comin’!” This and the previous community anthem feature Burton’s footstompin’, boogie-on rhythm guitar, but midway through he and everybody except Rudolph falls away as the door bursts down for no reason with a careening, massive guitar solo. It continues even as the band returns and when the Leslie speaker kicks in, Rudolph’s STILL soloing, as if to compensate for the lack of lyrics. Once they’ve regrouped at a far slower pace for the closing instrumental, Rudolph turns in a poignant solo both hopefully expressive yet sad as can be and speaks more than all the previous token lyrics before it ever could. “Marilyn” opens with a Leslie-gunked guitar intro, slowed into a molasses-dragging, mandied-out sensation and a blatant excuse to discharge even more mindless, directionless energy. Sanderson’s bass repeats the same line over and over as Hunter gets primed for the drum solo as everything gets chopped down by Rudolph’s side-winding solo, getting churned into a froth by the Leslie into a fucked up, sloppy, needless, heedless and stumbling, drug punk moment deluxe. Then a drum solo ensues for no real reason at all. And once that’s over, The Fairies bash out like their very lives depended on it. “The Pigs of Uranus” features lyrics taken from a Gilbert Shelton underground comic and set to a country/western send-up reminiscent of The Deviants’ “Let’s Drink To The People.” The last two thirds of the track sees Rudolph stick it into high gear with a stinging, gun-slinging solo, abandoning all attempts at lyrics and just going for it.Side two is where the real heart of the matter lies on “What A Bunch of Sweeties,” unfolding with the opening thud of tom-toms and a single strum across the bridge of Rudolph’s guitar resounds like a tidal wave with a rudely loud BRAAAANNNNNGGGGG...! You can hear Rudolph bark vocal directives over the volume of his amps and Hunter’s bank of swishing cymbals. From nowhere, the loudly recorded series of fierce waves of rebounding guitar undertow get thrown up and against the studio walls, set upon by Hunter’s persistently swishing cymbal accenting. Rudolph’s vocals are grandly John Wetton-with-a-sore-throat, barking out:“I went up to her roomShe hit me with a broomAnd then she said to me, ‘Baby,Walk don’t run...’”...for this is indeed a cover of the best-known instrumental track by The Ventures, “Walk Don’t Run.” Only you’d never guess it until the vocals vanish and the piece is kicked into high gear with a blistering, buzzsawing guitar blitz at ten times the speed of the original. Rudolph just goes for it with an incredible, run-on solo which trashes up “Walk Don’t Run” beyond recognition. Soon, there’s a lurch into “Middle Run,” an entire instrumental section fashioned by Rudolph that begins like “See Me, Feel Me” off “Live At Leeds” it’s its gentle mountain stream-iness: up and down the neck with the greatest of ease and without a thought for anything in the world except for letting it all go and letting it flow through his guitar and amplifier. And since “Walk Don’t Run” was a staple in The Fairies’ live set for years, Rudolph had already adopted a number of ways to go with his extended improvisations here. Dis-chord after dis-chord it builds, with Hunter just thrashing it all out for the fuck of it until he picks up speed and catches Rudolph’s blinding velocity with snare hits. Rudolph goes for it at top speed until he’s already nudged himself back into the flight path of the main “Walk Don’t Run” riff. A last wave of searing chords, notes and sheer noise with overall cymbal bashing and a final BBBWWWWMMMUMMMM and...it is done. Wow.The far, far gentler strains of the elongated and beautifully hazed out ballad, “I Went Up, I Went Down” appear in the form of the most over-Leslie speaker-ed riffing of the album. The sound is completely liquid-like as the guitar intro builds, falls away and begins to blossom as the seed for a simple, phased melody. The bass and drums enter slowly, over the almost-babbling brook guitar as a ballad of the girl with the special pills unravels about as much as Rudolph himself: the unnamed little pill soon sees him floating on a cushion far over Notting Hill Gate and flying all over the place. Viewing colours never seen before, the title continually repeats as though yo-yo-ing back like an in AND out of body experience that never stays. “X-Ray” is almost blaxploitation-like in its wah-wah and chunky riffing counterpointing Hunter’s dazed, “Shaft”-type hi-hat pattern. It all gets skewered by a Leslie’d to death guitar riff as Rudolph proclaims he’s “ready/steady to rock and rave” and although it seems weary, it just pulls away from the threshold of collapse. Even though it’s a Merseybeat-era Beatle cover, their version of “I Saw Here Standing There” is given an almost New York Dolls treatment as Rudolph’s twin overdubbed guitar separation allows for the same two-prong blitz of “Human Being.” His riffing is so Thunders-like as it drives down the middle of the song, trashing it all up harshly it’s almost a parody; especially when his vocals get all hoarse on the Little Richard-inflected “woooo!”s. It ends the album on a quick flourish, and for all its inconsistencies, “Sweeties” just might be a more punk statement than one may have initially guessed...And at top volume it’s damn near undeniable.
“Sweeties” is a mystifying jumble of tracks as exuberant as they are shambolic, though resonating for most of the time with a simple clarity of feeling and passion. Despite Burton’s second guitar veering into down-market space boogie on two tracks and the appearance of two minor piss-takes, many moments of raw excellence makes “Sweeties” hang together in a crazy patchwork as much as the front cover of road manager Boss Goodman’s collection of underground paraphernalia. Furthermore, they both reflect accurately the state of the then-current flagging togetherness of the London underground which was already eroding under pressures both internal and external but still maintaining a presence, albeit wearily.
After the botched fake telephone skit of “Prologue” comes the boogie stomp anthem, “Right On, Fight On” as it cuts in after a false start. Relating the story of a police break-up at one of The Fairies’ free gigs with Hawkwind underneath the Westway overpass just off the Portobello Road, it’s rough and loose as hell. Russell Hunter stomps through the whole thing as Rudolph continues with hoarse exhortations of the title, to “come together” and to “keep a strong position” in a rallying cry over the loosest, blareing-est of street jams. “Portobello Shuffle” opens with a rollicking riff and another wake up call to “Roll out of your seats/Get out in the streets/There’s a new day a-comin’!” This and the previous community anthem feature Burton’s footstompin’, boogie-on rhythm guitar, but midway through he and everybody except Rudolph falls away as the door bursts down for no reason with a careening, massive guitar solo. It continues even as the band returns and when the Leslie speaker kicks in, Rudolph’s STILL soloing, as if to compensate for the lack of lyrics. Once they’ve regrouped at a far slower pace for the closing instrumental, Rudolph turns in a poignant solo both hopefully expressive yet sad as can be and speaks more than all the previous token lyrics before it ever could. “Marilyn” opens with a Leslie-gunked guitar intro, slowed into a molasses-dragging, mandied-out sensation and a blatant excuse to discharge even more mindless, directionless energy. Sanderson’s bass repeats the same line over and over as Hunter gets primed for the drum solo as everything gets chopped down by Rudolph’s side-winding solo, getting churned into a froth by the Leslie into a fucked up, sloppy, needless, heedless and stumbling, drug punk moment deluxe. Then a drum solo ensues for no real reason at all. And once that’s over, The Fairies bash out like their very lives depended on it. “The Pigs of Uranus” features lyrics taken from a Gilbert Shelton underground comic and set to a country/western send-up reminiscent of The Deviants’ “Let’s Drink To The People.” The last two thirds of the track sees Rudolph stick it into high gear with a stinging, gun-slinging solo, abandoning all attempts at lyrics and just going for it.
Side two is where the real heart of the matter lies on “What A Bunch of Sweeties,” unfolding with the opening thud of tom-toms and a single strum across the bridge of Rudolph’s guitar resounds like a tidal wave with a rudely loud BRAAAANNNNNGGGGG...! You can hear Rudolph bark vocal directives over the volume of his amps and Hunter’s bank of swishing cymbals. From nowhere, the loudly recorded series of fierce waves of rebounding guitar undertow get thrown up and against the studio walls, set upon by Hunter’s persistently swishing cymbal accenting. Rudolph’s vocals are grandly John Wetton-with-a-sore-throat, barking out:
“I went up to her roomShe hit me with a broomAnd then she said to me, ‘Baby,Walk don’t run...’”
...for this is indeed a cover of the best-known instrumental track by The Ventures, “Walk Don’t Run.” Only you’d never guess it until the vocals vanish and the piece is kicked into high gear with a blistering, buzzsawing guitar blitz at ten times the speed of the original. Rudolph just goes for it with an incredible, run-on solo which trashes up “Walk Don’t Run” beyond recognition. Soon, there’s a lurch into “Middle Run,” an entire instrumental section fashioned by Rudolph that begins like “See Me, Feel Me” off “Live At Leeds” it’s its gentle mountain stream-iness: up and down the neck with the greatest of ease and without a thought for anything in the world except for letting it all go and letting it flow through his guitar and amplifier. And since “Walk Don’t Run” was a staple in The Fairies’ live set for years, Rudolph had already adopted a number of ways to go with his extended improvisations here. Dis-chord after dis-chord it builds, with Hunter just thrashing it all out for the fuck of it until he picks up speed and catches Rudolph’s blinding velocity with snare hits. Rudolph goes for it at top speed until he’s already nudged himself back into the flight path of the main “Walk Don’t Run” riff. A last wave of searing chords, notes and sheer noise with overall cymbal bashing and a final BBBWWWWMMMUMMMM and...it is done. Wow.
The far, far gentler strains of the elongated and beautifully hazed out ballad, “I Went Up, I Went Down” appear in the form of the most over-Leslie speaker-ed riffing of the album. The sound is completely liquid-like as the guitar intro builds, falls away and begins to blossom as the seed for a simple, phased melody. The bass and drums enter slowly, over the almost-babbling brook guitar as a ballad of the girl with the special pills unravels about as much as Rudolph himself: the unnamed little pill soon sees him floating on a cushion far over Notting Hill Gate and flying all over the place. Viewing colours never seen before, the title continually repeats as though yo-yo-ing back like an in AND out of body experience that never stays. “X-Ray” is almost blaxploitation-like in its wah-wah and chunky riffing counterpointing Hunter’s dazed, “Shaft”-type hi-hat pattern. It all gets skewered by a Leslie’d to death guitar riff as Rudolph proclaims he’s “ready/steady to rock and rave” and although it seems weary, it just pulls away from the threshold of collapse. Even though it’s a Merseybeat-era Beatle cover, their version of “I Saw Here Standing There” is given an almost New York Dolls treatment as Rudolph’s twin overdubbed guitar separation allows for the same two-prong blitz of “Human Being.” His riffing is so Thunders-like as it drives down the middle of the song, trashing it all up harshly it’s almost a parody; especially when his vocals get all hoarse on the Little Richard-inflected “woooo!”s. It ends the album on a quick flourish, and for all its inconsistencies, “Sweeties” just might be a more punk statement than one may have initially guessed...And at top volume it’s damn near undeniable.
review[-] by Dave ThompsonThe best-loved of the original Pink Fairies' three Polydor albums is also, contrarily, the lesser of them all. Recorded in 1972 at a time when the band's own reputation as hippie hell-raisers was already being eclipsed by the soaring Hawkwind, What a Bunch of Sweeties found the band realigning themselves with the twisted Americana rock sensibilities of the latter-day MC5, high on noise but, sadly, low on the blistering commitment that was the hallmark of their debut album. The loss of founding member Twink may or may not have contributed further to the collapse, although there is no denying that, in full instrumental overdrive, the three-piece (plus guests) incarnation of the group was at least as dramatic as its predecessor. Indeed, a nine-minute assault on the Ventures' "Walk Don't Run" rates among the finest Pink Fairies recordings of all time, while the bonus inclusion of an even longer version lends this reissue even greater gravitas. There's also a hot version of the Beatles' "I Saw Her Standing There," the twisted country opus "Pigs of Uranus," and, rounding off the bonus tracks, a grimy reinvention of Don Nix's "Goin' Down." Elsewhere, however, What a Bunch of Sweeties founders on too many weak ideas drawn for far too long and too much reliance on churning rock jam riffs that could have been peeled off by any half-competent festival bill-filler of the era -- a status that the Pink Fairies should never have been reduced to.
The best-loved of the original Pink Fairies' three Polydor albums is also, contrarily, the lesser of them all. Recorded in 1972 at a time when the band's own reputation as hippie hell-raisers was already being eclipsed by the soaring Hawkwind, What a Bunch of Sweeties found the band realigning themselves with the twisted Americana rock sensibilities of the latter-day MC5, high on noise but, sadly, low on the blistering commitment that was the hallmark of their debut album. The loss of founding member Twink may or may not have contributed further to the collapse, although there is no denying that, in full instrumental overdrive, the three-piece (plus guests) incarnation of the group was at least as dramatic as its predecessor. Indeed, a nine-minute assault on the Ventures' "Walk Don't Run" rates among the finest Pink Fairies recordings of all time, while the bonus inclusion of an even longer version lends this reissue even greater gravitas. There's also a hot version of the Beatles' "I Saw Her Standing There," the twisted country opus "Pigs of Uranus," and, rounding off the bonus tracks, a grimy reinvention of Don Nix's "Goin' Down." Elsewhere, however, What a Bunch of Sweeties founders on too many weak ideas drawn for far too long and too much reliance on churning rock jam riffs that could have been peeled off by any half-competent festival bill-filler of the era -- a status that the Pink Fairies should never have been reduced to.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:45 (thirteen years ago)
My mind was on that track as I finally got a copy of Danny Sugarman's Wonderland Avenue: Tales of Glamour & Excess today.
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:47 (thirteen years ago)
ok! we'll see then. i'm about to have a bit more free time to listen to loud music, so i will catch up on the rest of these results soon. there sure is a lot to dig into!
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:47 (thirteen years ago)
The next one is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too low
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:53 (thirteen years ago)
It's one for pfunk fans too
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:55 (thirteen years ago)
186. CHAIRMEN OF THE BOARD Skin I'm In (1362 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #359 for 1974http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pR8UMM6vIU0/TVRLfhE7ulI/AAAAAAAABeE/jbarlaDkA6g/s1600/chairmen-of-the-board-skin-im-in-front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5zKiTlGl3QQBZZWowNwN5I
review[-] by Donald A. GuariscoFor what would be their final album, the Chairmen of the Board teamed up with producer Jeffrey Bowen to create an album that was radically different from all of their previous output. Instead of the Motown-styled harmony soul that earned the group their pop-chart success, Skin I'm In was built on a psychedelic funk-rock sound that was very close to the music George Clinton was exploring around the same time. A look at the album's credits reveals why the album sounds like this: the backup band includes several members of Funkadelic and Parliament, including Bernie Worrell and Eddie Hazel. The result is a surprisingly effective combination of pop-soul hooks and funky grit: "Everybody Party All Night" pits smooth harmonies against a staccato wah-wah guitar hook to create an energetic, rhythmic slice of soul and "Finders Keepers" weaves punchy horn charts into its soulful keyboard-driven melody to create a funky toe-tapper of a tune. The album's centerpiece is an epic cover of Sly Stewart's "Life and Death" that blends the song's pulsating melody with flowery instrumental passages built of Mellotron and synthesizer. The album balances this funk-rock attack with lovely ballads on the album's second side, including a heartbreakingly soulful cover of "Only Love Can Break a Heart." In the end, Skin I'm In is so different from past efforts that it may alienate fans of the Chairmen of the Board's early hits but it is definitely a worthwhile listen for fans of funk music, especially those who love Funkadelic and Parliament. ---http://www.funkmysoul.gr/?p=1287The "Skin I'm In" LP eventually materialised in 1974 long after the band had departed. It was most likely recorded around 1972 containing mainly General Johnson and Johnson/Bowen originals. As already stated, Jeffrey Bowen (and assorted P-funk members like Bernie Worrell and Eddie Hazel) virtually re-invented the Chairmen overnight. As the General put it :"We'd cut the tracks and then he'd start adding synthesisers to it. We'd just look and think, What ? Synthesisers !". Listening to the opening track "Everybody party all night", you can easily understand his reaction. However, I personally found the synthesizer intrusions to be a revelation. Choppy guitars, off kilter horns, trippy keyboards – we were definitely several star systems from their previous work, and definitely more than a dip into Sly Stone territory. The bluesy "Skin I'm In" is just perfect – the General was born to moan and this track really allows him that grace in spades. And then we have the immense and adventurous landscape that is basically Sly's "Life and Death" in 4 movements – incorporating the instrumental segues "Morning glory" and "White Rose" – it's a sort of Sergeant Pepper meets Sly Stone opus. Pure genius. "Let's have some fun" is probably the most radio-friendly track on the LP, a gorgeous latinesque burner and deserving a much better reception from the public when released as a single. At this moment, I pause and wait for my heart to relax and the goosepimples to fade – and all in the simple anticipation of one of THE great love songs. For me, the General's finest moment – I sit and compose myself once again for the overpowering majesty that is "Love at first sight". If a gun was pointed at my temple and I had to perform one of those youtube singing mimes, this would have to be a strong contender. Exhausting. Far more relaxing is the Al Greenesque "Only love can break a heart", taking the Gene Pitney whistling original and turning it onto a seriously sexy masterpiece. And when the rap hits with "I need some love that's gonna stick to my ribs", you'll wish you had someone dangling in that moment. "Live with me" is more of the dreamy same, and we sign out with the aforementioned lead single, "Finders keepers". What makes this album so exceptional for me is its inventiveness, boldness, and breadth of soundscapes – but most of all – it's an incredible showcase for the diversity and power of General Johnson as a singer.---Probably the rarest of all albums by The Chairmen Of The Board – and also the last! The album was cut after the band re-formed briefly, and it's got a fuzzed-out heavy soul sound that's quite different from some of the group's earlier work. There's heavy guitar on many tracks – riffing away in a psychedelic mode that dominates most tracks, but which almost buries the group's vocals. The album's a great one if you dig the funk side of the Chairmen – and at times, it almost reminds us of The Politicians, who were kind of labelmates of the group. Includes the excellent two-part funk track "Life & Death" – plus "Love At First Sight", "Everybody Party All Night", "Let's Have Some Fun", "Finder's Keepers", "Skin I'm In", and "White Rose (Freedom Flower)". Lots of bonus tracks too – including "Finders Keepers (inst)", "Someone Just Like You", "Come On In & Dance", and "You've Got Extra Added Power In Your Love". ~ Dusty Groove
review[-] by Donald A. Guarisco
For what would be their final album, the Chairmen of the Board teamed up with producer Jeffrey Bowen to create an album that was radically different from all of their previous output. Instead of the Motown-styled harmony soul that earned the group their pop-chart success, Skin I'm In was built on a psychedelic funk-rock sound that was very close to the music George Clinton was exploring around the same time. A look at the album's credits reveals why the album sounds like this: the backup band includes several members of Funkadelic and Parliament, including Bernie Worrell and Eddie Hazel. The result is a surprisingly effective combination of pop-soul hooks and funky grit: "Everybody Party All Night" pits smooth harmonies against a staccato wah-wah guitar hook to create an energetic, rhythmic slice of soul and "Finders Keepers" weaves punchy horn charts into its soulful keyboard-driven melody to create a funky toe-tapper of a tune. The album's centerpiece is an epic cover of Sly Stewart's "Life and Death" that blends the song's pulsating melody with flowery instrumental passages built of Mellotron and synthesizer. The album balances this funk-rock attack with lovely ballads on the album's second side, including a heartbreakingly soulful cover of "Only Love Can Break a Heart." In the end, Skin I'm In is so different from past efforts that it may alienate fans of the Chairmen of the Board's early hits but it is definitely a worthwhile listen for fans of funk music, especially those who love Funkadelic and Parliament.
---http://www.funkmysoul.gr/?p=1287The "Skin I'm In" LP eventually materialised in 1974 long after the band had departed. It was most likely recorded around 1972 containing mainly General Johnson and Johnson/Bowen originals. As already stated, Jeffrey Bowen (and assorted P-funk members like Bernie Worrell and Eddie Hazel) virtually re-invented the Chairmen overnight. As the General put it :"We'd cut the tracks and then he'd start adding synthesisers to it. We'd just look and think, What ? Synthesisers !". Listening to the opening track "Everybody party all night", you can easily understand his reaction. However, I personally found the synthesizer intrusions to be a revelation. Choppy guitars, off kilter horns, trippy keyboards – we were definitely several star systems from their previous work, and definitely more than a dip into Sly Stone territory. The bluesy "Skin I'm In" is just perfect – the General was born to moan and this track really allows him that grace in spades. And then we have the immense and adventurous landscape that is basically Sly's "Life and Death" in 4 movements – incorporating the instrumental segues "Morning glory" and "White Rose" – it's a sort of Sergeant Pepper meets Sly Stone opus. Pure genius. "Let's have some fun" is probably the most radio-friendly track on the LP, a gorgeous latinesque burner and deserving a much better reception from the public when released as a single. At this moment, I pause and wait for my heart to relax and the goosepimples to fade – and all in the simple anticipation of one of THE great love songs. For me, the General's finest moment – I sit and compose myself once again for the overpowering majesty that is "Love at first sight". If a gun was pointed at my temple and I had to perform one of those youtube singing mimes, this would have to be a strong contender. Exhausting. Far more relaxing is the Al Greenesque "Only love can break a heart", taking the Gene Pitney whistling original and turning it onto a seriously sexy masterpiece. And when the rap hits with "I need some love that's gonna stick to my ribs", you'll wish you had someone dangling in that moment. "Live with me" is more of the dreamy same, and we sign out with the aforementioned lead single, "Finders keepers". What makes this album so exceptional for me is its inventiveness, boldness, and breadth of soundscapes – but most of all – it's an incredible showcase for the diversity and power of General Johnson as a singer.
---
Probably the rarest of all albums by The Chairmen Of The Board – and also the last! The album was cut after the band re-formed briefly, and it's got a fuzzed-out heavy soul sound that's quite different from some of the group's earlier work. There's heavy guitar on many tracks – riffing away in a psychedelic mode that dominates most tracks, but which almost buries the group's vocals. The album's a great one if you dig the funk side of the Chairmen – and at times, it almost reminds us of The Politicians, who were kind of labelmates of the group. Includes the excellent two-part funk track "Life & Death" – plus "Love At First Sight", "Everybody Party All Night", "Let's Have Some Fun", "Finder's Keepers", "Skin I'm In", and "White Rose (Freedom Flower)". Lots of bonus tracks too – including "Finders Keepers (inst)", "Someone Just Like You", "Come On In & Dance", and "You've Got Extra Added Power In Your Love". ~ Dusty Groove
The 1st 6 songs on this are the best run ever. Presumably side a of the original ep. And its one of the best sides of an LP in music.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 20:00 (thirteen years ago)
Residents too low. Bah humbug, philistines, etc.
― emil.y, Thursday, 21 March 2013 20:05 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 20:11 (thirteen years ago)
Tomorrows schedule : 185-161
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 20:12 (thirteen years ago)
heh #185 might be controversial but you need to wait until tomorrow.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 20:22 (thirteen years ago)
I have all the Dr. John albums up to Gumbo. I have no idea why I stopped and didn't get In The Right Place! I still haven't heard it, will hopefully correct that tonight!
I forgot to note earlier that a Jobriath documentary came out in 2012. Has anyone seen it? So far it's only played at festivals. Hope there's a proper theater/DVD release planned.
http://www.thefilmcollaborative.org/_images/slate_images/jobriath/jobriath-web/jobriath-poster.jpg
Jobriath A.D. (2012, 103 mins)Directed By: Kieran Turner
“The American Bowie,” “The True Fairy of Rock & Roll,” “Hype of the Year.” Known as the first openly gay rock star, Jobriath’s reign was brief, lasting less than two years and two albums. Done in by a over-hyped publicity machine, shunned by the gay community, and dismissed by most critics as all flash, no substance, Jobriath was excommunicated from the music business and retreated to the Chelsea Hotel, where he died forgotten in 1983 at the age of 37, one of the earliest casualties of AIDS. However, in the years since his death, new generations of fans have discovered his music through acts as diverse as The Pet Shop Boys, Gary Numan, Joe Elliott of Def Leppard, and Morrissey, all of whom have cited Jobriath as an influence. Through interviews, archival material and animation, experience the heartbreaking, unbelievable story of the one, the only, Jobriath.
Trailer: http://vimeo.com/44007304
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 20:42 (thirteen years ago)
These polls are all about discovering new gems for me and I discovered Cymande the other day when that came up. Now after listening to it 4 or 5 times, I keep on kicking myself for not having heard it earlier so I could've voted for it and it could have landed higher. This record is so fucking incredible. It deserves better than 257.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Thursday, 21 March 2013 21:23 (thirteen years ago)
Listening to a few things tonight, enjoyed the Brainticket album and the s/t Kraan a lot.
― Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 21 March 2013 21:57 (thirteen years ago)
i'm loving Osmium
― Mordy, Thursday, 21 March 2013 21:58 (thirteen years ago)
how did i not know any parliament before this poll??
I was the number one voter for Boston - s/t and for obvious reasons I am going to have to say TOO LOW. There is not a weak track on that record. I like a lot of these other albums but jeez you buys, BOSTON.
― Tom Violence, Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:04 (thirteen years ago)
If I were a betting person, I might put money on ^^^ being Kenan in disguise. He's the only person I know who is that into Boston.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:13 (thirteen years ago)
No, it's definitely my friend Tom.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:27 (thirteen years ago)
I'm a Boston fan too! That boston album is ACES in my book
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:29 (thirteen years ago)
I was only partially serious -- if I know him at all, Kenan would have written like 3 paragraphs about the glory of Boston in florid detail.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:29 (thirteen years ago)
Oh Tom could do that too
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:34 (thirteen years ago)
I pretty much think More Than A Feeling is one of the greatest things ever but I could never get into the rest of that album. what am I missing?
― wk, Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:39 (thirteen years ago)
You're missing SMOKIN'.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:42 (thirteen years ago)
eh, it's alright
― wk, Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:49 (thirteen years ago)
GONNA HITCH A RIDEHEAD FOR THE OTHER SIDELEAVE IT ALL BEHIND
NEEEEEVER CHANGE MY MIIIIIND
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:51 (thirteen years ago)
like, c'mon
i can't even help you if you can't get down with Boston
― set the controls for the heart of the sun (VegemiteGrrl), Thursday, 21 March 2013 23:53 (thirteen years ago)
You need to check out some albums in the poll you haven't heard before, VG
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 00:02 (thirteen years ago)
wk: You don't like "Peace of Mind"? That was the song that made me want to buy the record 13 years ago or so, when it still felt kind of edgy to praise it on ILM.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Friday, 22 March 2013 00:26 (thirteen years ago)
shit why did I say anything, now I feel guilted into listening to Boston haha
― wk, Friday, 22 March 2013 00:42 (thirteen years ago)
I mean it's all pretty good. Peace of Mind is definitely the next best. I think the album is pretty accurately represented by the cover, where the songs are represented by the spaceships, and More Than a Feeling is the big one front and center. maybe it's a sequencing problem.
― wk, Friday, 22 March 2013 00:52 (thirteen years ago)
Maybe I'll pull out that LP tonight.
I saw them 10 years ago or so. I actually thought it was pretty cool that they played "More than a Feeling" in the middle of the set.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Friday, 22 March 2013 00:54 (thirteen years ago)
They were really unique, I think, with the guitar sound and with Delp's voice. I love that album.
― timellison, Friday, 22 March 2013 01:11 (thirteen years ago)
I really hope everyone checks out that Chairmen of the Board album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 01:39 (thirteen years ago)
And I just realised the best Bootsy Collins album wasn't nominated
http://open.spotify.com/album/3beYXMO8BbVQuVqO03PGus
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 01:47 (thirteen years ago)
the 1st 3 Bootsy albums are fantastic and I cant believe Bootsy? Player Of The Year wasn't nominated. It really is his best.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 01:50 (thirteen years ago)
I just wish ILM had enough funkers to do an actual funk poll but it doesn't so it will never happen.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 01:56 (thirteen years ago)
this chairmen of the board album is excellent. thanks for the recommendation ag
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 01:59 (thirteen years ago)
There's going to be a disco poll and a P-Funk poll and a Stax and a Motown...maybe that will introduce the funk to enough people.
― SEO Speedwagon (seandalai), Friday, 22 March 2013 02:00 (thirteen years ago)
you know what George Clinton thought of Disco ("Blah music")
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 02:02 (thirteen years ago)
Doesn't mean he was right. You may argue that disco killed funk (iirc) but that relies on very specific definitions of "funk" and "disco", the reality was very fluid - what do you call "Do it any way you wanna"?
― SEO Speedwagon (seandalai), Friday, 22 March 2013 02:12 (thirteen years ago)
Most people did jump on the bandwagon, but the funk bands who did simply were not as good as what they were before. Kool & The Gang a prime example. Of course B.T. Express/Brass Construction/Chic etc made very good disco so maybe Kool & the Gang sold out and just made shit disco?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 02:26 (thirteen years ago)
Nobody is going to seriously say Kiss or The Rolling Stones disco songs were their best except contrarians(cue umpteen ilx contrarians to post now) so perhaps bands who went disco bandwagonjumping didn't do it so well in general.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 02:29 (thirteen years ago)
chairman of the board album unavailable on US spotify or the youtubes but what I sampled sounded reet
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Friday, 22 March 2013 02:44 (thirteen years ago)
Demis Roussos did some great disco songs.
― SEO Speedwagon (seandalai), Friday, 22 March 2013 02:50 (thirteen years ago)
there is also a twofer or threefer version with other albums of the Chairmen Of The Board album on Spotify. Maybe you get that? Bittersweet is an awesome album too and that's one of the albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 02:53 (thirteen years ago)
http://open.spotify.com/album/1uWMTK6N2KlNLNNOOwfjOa
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 02:55 (thirteen years ago)
all in the family, treasure chest, and the "that's my story" single are the only things on US spotify
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Friday, 22 March 2013 02:57 (thirteen years ago)
yeah bittersweet+ not available
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Friday, 22 March 2013 02:58 (thirteen years ago)
I can't find that Chairmen of the Board album on youtube either but it's an incredible album.
Here's a few of the songs I could find (in no particular order):
Skin I'm In: http://youtu.be/YxFTssM_eG8Party All Night: http://youtu.be/ZxfQ0uBIegYFinders Keepers: http://youtu.be/fUw7dPyqRiwLove at First Sight: http://youtu.be/E6nyFnpRJSMLife & Death: http://youtu.be/cVFUr66Xk1c <----- A fuckin' classic
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Friday, 22 March 2013 02:59 (thirteen years ago)
I wish we were allowed to post links but I'm sure you can find it elsewhere
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 03:04 (thirteen years ago)
Some folks might actually have to set foot in a record store!
I was wondering the same thing along the lines of reggae, but I'd think there's a fair number of ILM-ers who like to dig into the vastness of 70s Jamaican music?
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 03:30 (thirteen years ago)
i would def vote in a reggae poll too
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 03:32 (thirteen years ago)
Playing catch up again. Biggest surprise so far has been the high placing of that Chairman of the Board album. It's an absolute 10/10 classic. I had it way too low on my list, it should have been in my top ten.
Great to see War get some a couple of albums in the list. My favourite is Deliver The Word but these two are brilliant albums too. Their first five of their albums is one of my favourite runs of the 70's.
Had no idea Jobriath was so popular on here. I voted for the second album but they're both solid.
Delighted to see Lene Lovich make it. I think her second album is way better but her first three are all worth getting.
I thought Dub Housing would easily make the top 100, bit gutted at how low it is.
Good Meters choice, still got my fingers crossed for Rejuvination making it.
I'm more of a Parliament fan than Funkadelic but I've never rated Osmium that much compared to most of their others. Motor Booty, Placebo Syndrome and Mothership Connection are their three masterpieces.
This list has been great so far, lots of albums to look in to. I really need to check out some Graham Central Station at some point.
― Kitchen Person, Friday, 22 March 2013 03:36 (thirteen years ago)
Well, Osmium is a funkadelic album in all but name. He only used Funkadelic because he lost the rights to the name Parliament. When he got the rights back he decided to make more vocal led music. (Funkadelic were the rock musicians and Parliament were the singers)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 03:43 (thirteen years ago)
I started up a spotify playlist of all the albums in this list. Only managed to get through 300-500. Not sure if anyone else was already doing this. I'll need to come back to it either tomorrow night or Saturday.
http://open.spotify.com/user/olken2000/playlist/5sdu93N2DjKkDk0NMe6sFH
― Moodles, Friday, 22 March 2013 05:13 (thirteen years ago)
In general maybe but Sparks, for one, made their best music after going disco.
Thirding enthusiasm for a "music of jamaica" poll, as impossible as that would be.
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Friday, 22 March 2013 08:04 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah I'd vote in a reggae poll, I'm no expert but I've heard a decent number of records I really like.
OK, hands-down best discovery of this poll so far is that T2 album - so many great riffs! Definitely buying a copy of that if I can find one.
― Gavin, Leeds, Friday, 22 March 2013 09:00 (thirteen years ago)
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 01:59 (7 hours ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Friday, 22 March 2013 09:06 (thirteen years ago)
― Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 21 March 2013 19:32 (Yesterday) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
Not only that, but check out the back cover of Sabotage. Possibly TMI! I first learnt about this in a documentary about Vic Reeves where he showed off some of his record collection whilst stood in a field IIRC...
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l99/urbanH/Black_Sabbath_-_Sabotage-back.jpg
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 09:43 (thirteen years ago)
3GAT0BAZ
I love that stupid cover!
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 09:55 (thirteen years ago)
Was a sad day when metallers stopped wearing kimonos imo
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 09:56 (thirteen years ago)
I like Tony's blouse and white kecks combo too
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 10:07 (thirteen years ago)
It's Geezer with the white trousers, Tony's got the cream-coloured blouse.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 10:11 (thirteen years ago)
oops sorry. In my defence 70s metallers look very similar when viewed from behind.
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 10:13 (thirteen years ago)
That's true. Tony's doing some bad-ass kung fu meditation pose, Geezer's stood with one hand in his pocket like he's got his pet mouse in there and they're outside the cheese shop window.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 10:18 (thirteen years ago)
185. DAVID BOWIE Aladdin Sane (1371 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #18 for 1973 , #485 overall | Acclaimed: #455http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/691/MI0001691417.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/10gbq3XvTrtUSplDoTtsOb
The pubeless is-he-naked? illustration inside the doublefold suggests not bisexuality but asexuality--the affliction of a romantic for whom love turns nasty, awkward, and exploitative when touched by lust. So maybe the bleak future Bowie likes to scare his fans with is a metaphor for his own present, the American phase of which is reflected by these hardrocking mechanisms. But the cover, "Let's Spend the Night Together," opens other possibilities: its lyric suggests an alternative to the brutality of "Cracked Actor" and its music can help you through the bitterest realities. As a result, this is more interesting thematically than Ziggy Stardust, and it's also better rock and roll. B+ -- R. ChristgauHaving peaked so gloriously with a character that could not last indefinitely, Bowie adjusted Ziggy a bit on Aladdin Sane and came up with a weird set of tunes ? some tremendous, some minor ? and a distant, unpleasant left-field studio sound. "Panic in Detroit," "Watch That Man," "The Jean Genie" and "Drive-In Saturday" are some of his greatest songs, painting bleak pictures of detached existences, with cinematic strokes and killer riffs. Rather than singing about apocalypse, Bowie captures the barren feel of a dead world, and feeds it into the music. Aladdin Sane is also notable for allowing a serious crooner side to re-emerge ? as on "Time," a foreshadow of future developments. That said, it must be noted that Bowie's revisionist cover of "Let's Spend the Night Together" is utterly misguided. (The 2003 deluxe reissue on EMI adds a second disc featuring a different version of "John, I'm Only Dancing," a mono mix of "All the Young Dudes," single edits of "Time" and "The Jean Genie," and six live tracks from Bowie's 1972 tour.) -- Trouser PressAladdin Sane's title song is this album's "Five Years." Ominously, within parentheses after the title, are the dates "1913-1938-197?." The first two are the years before the outbreak of the first and second World Wars, respectively, and we have no reason to think that 197? represents anything but a year prior to the date of the third. The music is hothouse orientalism, jagged, dissonant and daring, yet also wistful and backward-looking. Phrases like "battle cries and champagne" evoke images of earlier, more romantic wars. The impatient chug of the machine (the electric guitar) gently clashes with the wilder, more extreme flailings of a dying culture (the piano). We have been deposited in the realm of Ives and Stravinsky.Mike Garson's long piano solo is fabulously imaginative and suggestive, incorporating snatches of Rhapsody In Blue and "Tequila." Only a couple of words of the lyrics indicate over what point the song title's question mark must be hovering. The reference to sake, the Japanese drink, in the first verse, and the last verse's "Millions weep a fountain/just in case of sunrise" suggest the land of the rising sun as a potentially significant future locale. While writing this album, Bowie decided to tour Japan (where he has recently been performing), and Ziggy was described on the last album as "like some cat from Japan." The relationship of Aladdin's visitations to the outbreak of war is not clear. Is it his appearance, or our failure to embrace him, which plunges us into strife?Although a good portion of the songs on Aladdin Sane are hard rock & roll, a closer inspection reveals them to be advertisements for their own obsolescence -- vignettes in which the baton is being passed on to a newer sensibility. "Watch That Man," the album's opening number, is inimitable Stones, Exile vintage. Mick Ronson plays Chuck Berry licks via Keith Richard, Garson plays at being Nicky Hopkins, Bowie slurs his lines, and the female backup singers and horns make appropriate noises. Like Ziggy, one of the subjects of Aladdin Sane is rock & roll (and its lynchpin, sex), only here it is extended to include its ultimate exponents, the Stones.Taking up the warning he gave in "Changes" -- "Look out you rock & rollers/Pretty soon you're gonna get a little older" -- David presents "an old-fashioned band of married men/Looking up to me for encouragement." To emphasize the archaism of these fellows, there are references to Benny Goodman and "Tiger Rag." Jagger himself has become so dainty "that he could eat you with a fork and spoon.""Let's Spend the Night Together" continues the Stones preoccupation. Here, one of the most ostensibly heterosexual calls in rock is made into a bi-anthem: The cover version is a means to an ultimate revisionism. The rendition here is campy, butch, brittle and unsatisfying. Bowie is asking us to re-perceive "Let's Spend the Night Together" as a gay song, possibly from its inception. Sexual ambiguity in rock has existed long before any audience was attuned to it. However, though Bowie's point is well taken, his methods are not."Drive-In Saturday" was conceived during Bowie's passage through the Arizona desert. It is a fantasy in which the populace, after some terrible holocaust, has forgotten how to make love. To learn again they take courses at the local drive-in, where they view films in which "like once before...people stared in Jagger's eyes and scored.""Panic in Detroit" places us right in the middle of a battered urban scape. Ronson deals out a compelling Bo Diddley beat which quickly leads into a helter-skelter descending scale. The song is a paranoid descendant of the Motor City's earlier masterpiece, Martha and the Vandellas' "Nowhere To Run." The hero is "the only surviver of the National People's Gang," the revolutionary as a star (shades of Sinclair), Che as wall poster. By the end of the song, all that is left to claim his revolutionary immortality is a suicide note, an "autograph" poignantly inscribed "Let me collect dust."Rock and revolutionary stardom are not the only varieties which are doomed. In his work Bowie is often contemptuous of actors, yet his is, above all, an actor. His intent on "Cracked Actor," a portrait of an aging screen idol, vicious, conceited, mercenarky, the object of the ministrations of a male gigolo, is to strip the subject of his validity, as he has done with the rocker, as a step towards a re-definition of these roles and his own inhabiting of them. "The Prettiest Star," the album's other slice of cinematic life, again asserts the connection between secular and celestial stardom. But the song itself is too self-consciously vaudeville."Time" is a bit of Brecht/Weill, a bit of Brel. All the world's not a stage, but a dressing room, in which Time holds sway, exacts payment. Once we're on, as in all theaters, time is suspended and will no longer "In quaaludes and red wine" be "Demanding Billy Dolls" -- a reference to the death of Billy Murcia in London last summer.The appeal to an afterlife, or its equivalent, which is implied in this song, using the theater as its metaphor, is further clarified in "Lady Grinning Soul." The song is beautifully arranged; Ronson's guitar, both six-string and twelve, elsewhere so muscular, is here, except for some faulty intonation on the acoustic solo, very poetic. Bowie, a ballad singer at heart, which lends his rock singing its special edge, gives "Lady Grinning Soul" the album's most expansive and sincere vocal.Aladdin Sane works over the same themes that were raised in The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars -- issuances from the Bowie schema that date back to The Man Who Sold the World. Bowie is cognizant that religion's geography -- the heavens -- has been usurped, either by science or by actual beings.If by conventional lights Bowie is a lad insane, then as an Aladdin, a conjurer of supernatural forces, he is quite sane. The titles may change from album to album -- from the superman, the homo superior, Ziggy, to Aladdin -- but the visions (the elimination of gender differences, the inevitability of Armageddon, and the conquering of death and time as we know them) -- and Bowie's rightful place in them -- remain constant. -- Ben Gerson, RSThe ultimate rock chameleon did not change colors between 1972's groundbreaking Ziggy Stardust... and 1973's Aladdin Sane (his breakthrough effort in America). He was still the same glitter-rocking starchild, "making love to his ego" through song.Written mostly during Bowie's 1972 tour of America, Aladdin Sane picks up where Ziggy left off to serve as a brutal memoir for one rock Martian's meteoric rise to the top. The tracks ooze desperation and alienation as the central character strives, through a haze of drugs and alcohol, to find some kind of enlightenment and, perhaps, rediscover himself. Admittedly, the theme never gels in Ziggy-like fashion, but the album proved to be a worthy -- if more mercurial -- follow-up, thanks to such diversely addictive songs as "Panic In Detroit," "Time," and "The Jean Genie."As with Ziggy, guitarist Mick Ronson is as much of a star as Bowie. He slams through Keith Richards-style licks on the stunning opener, "Watch That Man," and makes like Godzilla walking into Suffragette City with the vicious "Panic In Detroit." Producer Ken Scott, who engineered The Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour and "White Album," moves from sleek sophistication on the title track to raunchy rock with "Cracked Actor."Mike Garson's distinctive keyboard flurries decorate the spine-tingling closer "Lady Grinning Soul," while Bowie's melodramatic reading of "Time" is the album's one true anthem. The record's one failure comes from the misguided remake of the Stones' "Let's Spend The Night Together," heralding Bowie's disappointing next album, the covers-only collection Pin-Ups. -- Jim Harrington, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
Having peaked so gloriously with a character that could not last indefinitely, Bowie adjusted Ziggy a bit on Aladdin Sane and came up with a weird set of tunes ? some tremendous, some minor ? and a distant, unpleasant left-field studio sound. "Panic in Detroit," "Watch That Man," "The Jean Genie" and "Drive-In Saturday" are some of his greatest songs, painting bleak pictures of detached existences, with cinematic strokes and killer riffs. Rather than singing about apocalypse, Bowie captures the barren feel of a dead world, and feeds it into the music. Aladdin Sane is also notable for allowing a serious crooner side to re-emerge ? as on "Time," a foreshadow of future developments. That said, it must be noted that Bowie's revisionist cover of "Let's Spend the Night Together" is utterly misguided. (The 2003 deluxe reissue on EMI adds a second disc featuring a different version of "John, I'm Only Dancing," a mono mix of "All the Young Dudes," single edits of "Time" and "The Jean Genie," and six live tracks from Bowie's 1972 tour.) -- Trouser Press
Aladdin Sane's title song is this album's "Five Years." Ominously, within parentheses after the title, are the dates "1913-1938-197?." The first two are the years before the outbreak of the first and second World Wars, respectively, and we have no reason to think that 197? represents anything but a year prior to the date of the third. The music is hothouse orientalism, jagged, dissonant and daring, yet also wistful and backward-looking. Phrases like "battle cries and champagne" evoke images of earlier, more romantic wars. The impatient chug of the machine (the electric guitar) gently clashes with the wilder, more extreme flailings of a dying culture (the piano). We have been deposited in the realm of Ives and Stravinsky.
Mike Garson's long piano solo is fabulously imaginative and suggestive, incorporating snatches of Rhapsody In Blue and "Tequila." Only a couple of words of the lyrics indicate over what point the song title's question mark must be hovering. The reference to sake, the Japanese drink, in the first verse, and the last verse's "Millions weep a fountain/just in case of sunrise" suggest the land of the rising sun as a potentially significant future locale. While writing this album, Bowie decided to tour Japan (where he has recently been performing), and Ziggy was described on the last album as "like some cat from Japan." The relationship of Aladdin's visitations to the outbreak of war is not clear. Is it his appearance, or our failure to embrace him, which plunges us into strife?
Although a good portion of the songs on Aladdin Sane are hard rock & roll, a closer inspection reveals them to be advertisements for their own obsolescence -- vignettes in which the baton is being passed on to a newer sensibility. "Watch That Man," the album's opening number, is inimitable Stones, Exile vintage. Mick Ronson plays Chuck Berry licks via Keith Richard, Garson plays at being Nicky Hopkins, Bowie slurs his lines, and the female backup singers and horns make appropriate noises. Like Ziggy, one of the subjects of Aladdin Sane is rock & roll (and its lynchpin, sex), only here it is extended to include its ultimate exponents, the Stones.
Taking up the warning he gave in "Changes" -- "Look out you rock & rollers/Pretty soon you're gonna get a little older" -- David presents "an old-fashioned band of married men/Looking up to me for encouragement." To emphasize the archaism of these fellows, there are references to Benny Goodman and "Tiger Rag." Jagger himself has become so dainty "that he could eat you with a fork and spoon."
"Let's Spend the Night Together" continues the Stones preoccupation. Here, one of the most ostensibly heterosexual calls in rock is made into a bi-anthem: The cover version is a means to an ultimate revisionism. The rendition here is campy, butch, brittle and unsatisfying. Bowie is asking us to re-perceive "Let's Spend the Night Together" as a gay song, possibly from its inception. Sexual ambiguity in rock has existed long before any audience was attuned to it. However, though Bowie's point is well taken, his methods are not.
"Drive-In Saturday" was conceived during Bowie's passage through the Arizona desert. It is a fantasy in which the populace, after some terrible holocaust, has forgotten how to make love. To learn again they take courses at the local drive-in, where they view films in which "like once before...people stared in Jagger's eyes and scored."
"Panic in Detroit" places us right in the middle of a battered urban scape. Ronson deals out a compelling Bo Diddley beat which quickly leads into a helter-skelter descending scale. The song is a paranoid descendant of the Motor City's earlier masterpiece, Martha and the Vandellas' "Nowhere To Run." The hero is "the only surviver of the National People's Gang," the revolutionary as a star (shades of Sinclair), Che as wall poster. By the end of the song, all that is left to claim his revolutionary immortality is a suicide note, an "autograph" poignantly inscribed "Let me collect dust."Rock and revolutionary stardom are not the only varieties which are doomed. In his work Bowie is often contemptuous of actors, yet his is, above all, an actor. His intent on "Cracked Actor," a portrait of an aging screen idol, vicious, conceited, mercenarky, the object of the ministrations of a male gigolo, is to strip the subject of his validity, as he has done with the rocker, as a step towards a re-definition of these roles and his own inhabiting of them. "The Prettiest Star," the album's other slice of cinematic life, again asserts the connection between secular and celestial stardom. But the song itself is too self-consciously vaudeville.
"Time" is a bit of Brecht/Weill, a bit of Brel. All the world's not a stage, but a dressing room, in which Time holds sway, exacts payment. Once we're on, as in all theaters, time is suspended and will no longer "In quaaludes and red wine" be "Demanding Billy Dolls" -- a reference to the death of Billy Murcia in London last summer.
The appeal to an afterlife, or its equivalent, which is implied in this song, using the theater as its metaphor, is further clarified in "Lady Grinning Soul." The song is beautifully arranged; Ronson's guitar, both six-string and twelve, elsewhere so muscular, is here, except for some faulty intonation on the acoustic solo, very poetic. Bowie, a ballad singer at heart, which lends his rock singing its special edge, gives "Lady Grinning Soul" the album's most expansive and sincere vocal.
Aladdin Sane works over the same themes that were raised in The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars -- issuances from the Bowie schema that date back to The Man Who Sold the World. Bowie is cognizant that religion's geography -- the heavens -- has been usurped, either by science or by actual beings.
If by conventional lights Bowie is a lad insane, then as an Aladdin, a conjurer of supernatural forces, he is quite sane. The titles may change from album to album -- from the superman, the homo superior, Ziggy, to Aladdin -- but the visions (the elimination of gender differences, the inevitability of Armageddon, and the conquering of death and time as we know them) -- and Bowie's rightful place in them -- remain constant. -- Ben Gerson, RS
The ultimate rock chameleon did not change colors between 1972's groundbreaking Ziggy Stardust... and 1973's Aladdin Sane (his breakthrough effort in America). He was still the same glitter-rocking starchild, "making love to his ego" through song.
Written mostly during Bowie's 1972 tour of America, Aladdin Sane picks up where Ziggy left off to serve as a brutal memoir for one rock Martian's meteoric rise to the top. The tracks ooze desperation and alienation as the central character strives, through a haze of drugs and alcohol, to find some kind of enlightenment and, perhaps, rediscover himself. Admittedly, the theme never gels in Ziggy-like fashion, but the album proved to be a worthy -- if more mercurial -- follow-up, thanks to such diversely addictive songs as "Panic In Detroit," "Time," and "The Jean Genie."
As with Ziggy, guitarist Mick Ronson is as much of a star as Bowie. He slams through Keith Richards-style licks on the stunning opener, "Watch That Man," and makes like Godzilla walking into Suffragette City with the vicious "Panic In Detroit." Producer Ken Scott, who engineered The Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour and "White Album," moves from sleek sophistication on the title track to raunchy rock with "Cracked Actor."
Mike Garson's distinctive keyboard flurries decorate the spine-tingling closer "Lady Grinning Soul," while Bowie's melodramatic reading of "Time" is the album's one true anthem. The record's one failure comes from the misguided remake of the Stones' "Let's Spend The Night Together," heralding Bowie's disappointing next album, the covers-only collection Pin-Ups. -- Jim Harrington, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineZiggy Stardust wrote the blueprint for David Bowie's hard-rocking glam, and Aladdin Sane essentially follows the pattern, for both better and worse. A lighter affair than Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane is actually a stranger album than its predecessor, buoyed by bizarre lounge-jazz flourishes from pianist Mick Garson and a handful of winding, vaguely experimental songs. Bowie abandons his futuristic obsessions to concentrate on the detached cool of New York and London hipsters, as on the compressed rockers "Watch That Man," "Cracked Actor," and "The Jean Genie." Bowie follows the hard stuff with the jazzy, dissonant sprawls of "Lady Grinning Soul," "Aladdin Sane," and "Time," all of which manage to be both campy and avant-garde simultaneously, while the sweepingly cinematic "Drive-In Saturday" is a soaring fusion of sci-fi doo wop and melodramatic teenage glam. He lets his paranoia slip through in the clenched rhythms of "Panic in Detroit," as well as on his oddly clueless cover of "Let's Spend the Night Together." For all the pleasures on Aladdin Sane, there's no distinctive sound or theme to make the album cohesive; it's Bowie riding the wake of Ziggy Stardust, which means there's a wealth of classic material here, but not enough focus to make the album itself a classic.
Ziggy Stardust wrote the blueprint for David Bowie's hard-rocking glam, and Aladdin Sane essentially follows the pattern, for both better and worse. A lighter affair than Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane is actually a stranger album than its predecessor, buoyed by bizarre lounge-jazz flourishes from pianist Mick Garson and a handful of winding, vaguely experimental songs. Bowie abandons his futuristic obsessions to concentrate on the detached cool of New York and London hipsters, as on the compressed rockers "Watch That Man," "Cracked Actor," and "The Jean Genie." Bowie follows the hard stuff with the jazzy, dissonant sprawls of "Lady Grinning Soul," "Aladdin Sane," and "Time," all of which manage to be both campy and avant-garde simultaneously, while the sweepingly cinematic "Drive-In Saturday" is a soaring fusion of sci-fi doo wop and melodramatic teenage glam. He lets his paranoia slip through in the clenched rhythms of "Panic in Detroit," as well as on his oddly clueless cover of "Let's Spend the Night Together." For all the pleasures on Aladdin Sane, there's no distinctive sound or theme to make the album cohesive; it's Bowie riding the wake of Ziggy Stardust, which means there's a wealth of classic material here, but not enough focus to make the album itself a classic.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 14:37 (thirteen years ago)
I didn't vote for it as it sounds more like cabaret than rock 'n' roll to me, but it's definitely a great album. Love Mike Garson's piano. No one can match Bowie's run of twelve consecutive good, great and amazing albums (thirteen if you count his tossed-off but decent Pinups).
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 14:45 (thirteen years ago)
184. TAJ MAHAL TRAVELLERS August 1974 (1374 Points, 9 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #187 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/255/MI0003255952.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2f1LkWejB3bGEJoC1343Zk
review[-] by Skip JansenThis double CD reissues the legendary Tokyo improvisational group's Columbia LP from 1974. Like European experimental ensembles A.M.M. and M.E.V., Taj Mahal Travellers were dedicated to sonic experiments beyond categories of free jazz or avant-garde, and throughout the '60s and early '70s challenged musical norms the world over. Lead by Fluxus member and avant-garde composer Takehisa Kosugi, the ensemble featured instrumentalists Kyo Koike, Yukio Tsuchiya, Beiji Nagai, Tokio Hasegaw, Kinji Hayashi, and Hirokeszu Sato. The group adapted traditional instruments and electronics, yet saw no hierarchy in what could and couldn't be adapted into their battery of experimental instruments. Any number of devices were employed in making this massive and noisy drone piece. Recorded live in the studio, this music adapts methods from avant-garde, electro-acoustic, and ethnic music, and often takes the form of magnificent clouds of treated acoustic sound. The double-CD length is a compelling and thorough retrospective of the group, who recorded just two albums in the '70s. A vital and influential document of the Japanese avant-garde this was a hallowed artifact of the underground for many years. Made available in retrospect, it gives an insight into the early beginnings of an improvisational style which would be of incredible significance to the experimental music of later years.
This double CD reissues the legendary Tokyo improvisational group's Columbia LP from 1974. Like European experimental ensembles A.M.M. and M.E.V., Taj Mahal Travellers were dedicated to sonic experiments beyond categories of free jazz or avant-garde, and throughout the '60s and early '70s challenged musical norms the world over. Lead by Fluxus member and avant-garde composer Takehisa Kosugi, the ensemble featured instrumentalists Kyo Koike, Yukio Tsuchiya, Beiji Nagai, Tokio Hasegaw, Kinji Hayashi, and Hirokeszu Sato. The group adapted traditional instruments and electronics, yet saw no hierarchy in what could and couldn't be adapted into their battery of experimental instruments. Any number of devices were employed in making this massive and noisy drone piece. Recorded live in the studio, this music adapts methods from avant-garde, electro-acoustic, and ethnic music, and often takes the form of magnificent clouds of treated acoustic sound. The double-CD length is a compelling and thorough retrospective of the group, who recorded just two albums in the '70s. A vital and influential document of the Japanese avant-garde this was a hallowed artifact of the underground for many years. Made available in retrospect, it gives an insight into the early beginnings of an improvisational style which would be of incredible significance to the experimental music of later years.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:02 (thirteen years ago)
^^^ added to my listhave never heard it!
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Friday, 22 March 2013 15:05 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:12 (thirteen years ago)
It's a fine album LL. Surprised you haven't heard it tbh. But yay for someone discovering yet again a good album from the poll.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:13 (thirteen years ago)
btw thank you to moodles for doing the spotify playlist. Much appreciated!
Taj Mahal Travellers spotify link to put in your search boxspotify:album:2f1LkWejB3bGEJoC1343Zk
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:14 (thirteen years ago)
183. METERS Rejuvenation (1376 Points, 12 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #82 for 1974 , #3079 overall | Acclaimed: #1630 | RS: #138http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/281/MI0000281370.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3OoFKxuziLv3B3NxhEJwOWspotify:album:3OoFKxuziLv3B3NxhEJwOW
Although it's worth noting that their first hit for Warners, "Hey Pocky A-Way," is as old as the second line, it's also worth nothing that they're getting results from their experiments--namely, the twelve-minute funk fusion "It Ain't No Use." And if most of the time the vocals are neutral at best, what this bunch of amateurs makes of "Just Kissed My Baby" isn't dreamed of in Three Dog Night's philosophy. B+ -- R. ChristgauAllen Toussaint, with the help of the Meters, has been producing hot New Orleans records with an almost predictable regularity these last four years. While the quality has varied, the New Orleans Sound of the Seventies ast best has essayed a stark funkiness, as well as a willingness to experiment. Lee Dorsey's largely overlooked masterpiece, Yes We Can, came in 1971; last year, it was Dr. John's In The Right Place. And now we have the Meters' Rejuvenation...Modeliste's melodic drumming around the beat added an entirely new dimension to soul percussion. The Meters became regulars on Toussaint's studio dates and played behind Dorsey and Dr. John. In 1972 the group released its first record featuring vocals, Cabbage Alley, a mixed bag of compelling riffs and strained singing, which nonetheless contained such memorable cuts as "Do The Dirt." After more diverse studio work, the meters have returned with aanother vocal album, but one with few lows and an abundance of danceable peaks ("Just Kissed My Baby," "Hey Pocky A-Way" and "People Say" especially).The singing is sharper this time out and the band is supported (for the first time) Touissain'ts patented horn charts, written with an eye for the essential riff, that one melodic hook that can successfully cement a song together. But the focus remains on the four Meters; and their performance doesn't disappoint.Over a second-line lope, at times suggesting reggae, the Meters unwind a spare, spacy funk, which places a premium on nuance and restraint. Vocally organist Neville, with his laconic grunts, conjures up Charles Wright and James Brown; while instrumentally the entire band suggests a polyusnsaturated version of Sly and the Family Stone (an early influence: the Meters' first Josie album includes a version of Sly's "Simple Song).Although the Meters draw freely from a variety of sources, they make a music uniquely their own. The sound is always punching, jabbing, strutting, Nocentelli's swat-waka-waka rhythm guitar careening off Modeliste's shuffling snare accents; and yet the sound is open, loose, full of surprises, sparked by Modeliste's avant-garde funk. More than any of their previous efforts, Rejuvenation shows off the full extent of the Meters' skills, by including ballads as well as extended improvisation. With Allen Touissaint's help, these masters of contemporary soul have created yet another Crescent City masterpiece. -- Jim Miller, RS
Allen Toussaint, with the help of the Meters, has been producing hot New Orleans records with an almost predictable regularity these last four years. While the quality has varied, the New Orleans Sound of the Seventies ast best has essayed a stark funkiness, as well as a willingness to experiment. Lee Dorsey's largely overlooked masterpiece, Yes We Can, came in 1971; last year, it was Dr. John's In The Right Place. And now we have the Meters' Rejuvenation...Modeliste's melodic drumming around the beat added an entirely new dimension to soul percussion. The Meters became regulars on Toussaint's studio dates and played behind Dorsey and Dr. John. In 1972 the group released its first record featuring vocals, Cabbage Alley, a mixed bag of compelling riffs and strained singing, which nonetheless contained such memorable cuts as "Do The Dirt." After more diverse studio work, the meters have returned with aanother vocal album, but one with few lows and an abundance of danceable peaks ("Just Kissed My Baby," "Hey Pocky A-Way" and "People Say" especially).
The singing is sharper this time out and the band is supported (for the first time) Touissain'ts patented horn charts, written with an eye for the essential riff, that one melodic hook that can successfully cement a song together. But the focus remains on the four Meters; and their performance doesn't disappoint.
Over a second-line lope, at times suggesting reggae, the Meters unwind a spare, spacy funk, which places a premium on nuance and restraint. Vocally organist Neville, with his laconic grunts, conjures up Charles Wright and James Brown; while instrumentally the entire band suggests a polyusnsaturated version of Sly and the Family Stone (an early influence: the Meters' first Josie album includes a version of Sly's "Simple Song).
Although the Meters draw freely from a variety of sources, they make a music uniquely their own. The sound is always punching, jabbing, strutting, Nocentelli's swat-waka-waka rhythm guitar careening off Modeliste's shuffling snare accents; and yet the sound is open, loose, full of surprises, sparked by Modeliste's avant-garde funk. More than any of their previous efforts, Rejuvenation shows off the full extent of the Meters' skills, by including ballads as well as extended improvisation. With Allen Touissaint's help, these masters of contemporary soul have created yet another Crescent City masterpiece. -- Jim Miller, RS
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineThe title is a tip-off, as is the garish, blaxploitation-chic photo on the cover -- Rejuvenation, the Meters' second album for Reprise, should be seen as a bit of a new beginning for the quintessential New Orleans funk group. It's not a clean beginning, since they were pointing in this direction on Cabbage Alley, but this is where their glistening, clear production, crisp performances, rock influences, and hard-edged funk coalesce into a sound distinct from their Josie recordings -- not better, just different. As such, this is the definitive Reprise album from the Meters, not just because the material is stronger (which admittedly is true), but because the performances are continually inspired and the production is professional but hits at a gut level, resulting in a first-class funk album. [Sundazed's 2000 reissue contains the single versions of "People Say" and "Hey Pocky-A-Way" as bonus tracks.]
The title is a tip-off, as is the garish, blaxploitation-chic photo on the cover -- Rejuvenation, the Meters' second album for Reprise, should be seen as a bit of a new beginning for the quintessential New Orleans funk group. It's not a clean beginning, since they were pointing in this direction on Cabbage Alley, but this is where their glistening, clear production, crisp performances, rock influences, and hard-edged funk coalesce into a sound distinct from their Josie recordings -- not better, just different. As such, this is the definitive Reprise album from the Meters, not just because the material is stronger (which admittedly is true), but because the performances are continually inspired and the production is professional but hits at a gut level, resulting in a first-class funk album. [Sundazed's 2000 reissue contains the single versions of "People Say" and "Hey Pocky-A-Way" as bonus tracks.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:20 (thirteen years ago)
Kitchen Person will be as pleased as I am that this placed.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:22 (thirteen years ago)
cool, a number one vote for that one!
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:26 (thirteen years ago)
Haha I haven't even noticed when an album has a #1 vote because I had the results 2 weeks ago
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:28 (thirteen years ago)
That album appropriately was a highlight of a friend's "Big 'fro show." Note that the album on the other couch/loveseat is Allen Toussaint's Life, Love and Faith (1972). If you like this and the Dr. John/Meters work and Lee Dorsey's Yes We Can (1970), you need that.
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:37 (thirteen years ago)
Now that is a good album
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Friday, 22 March 2013 15:39 (thirteen years ago)
182. DEEP PURPLE Machine Head (1383 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #10 for 1972 , #135 overall | Acclaimed: #254http://open.spotify.com/album/0O6nHApQDoiCCAf5x86YSlspotify:album:0O6nHApQDoiCCAf5x86YSl
"Smoke on the Water" is about a big fire in Montreux, obviously the most exciting thing to happen to these fellows since the London Symphony Orchestra. No jokes about who's getting burned, though--I approve of their speeding, and Ritchie Blackmore has copped some self-discipline as well as a few suspicious-sounding licks from his buddies in London. Personal to Paul Kantner: Check out "Space Truckin'." B -- R. ChristgauAn undisputed metal classic, Machine Head is undoubtedly the most famous LP of Purple's roller-coaster catalogue...Extend it out, and Machine Head as a whole becomes surprisingly clever innovative metal studded with libreal use of Lord's trademark keyboards which benefit from a mix that is a rich cathedral fusoin of the unique and diverse sounds in the band, one of Martin Birch's early triumphs at the soundboard, royal pagentry at its classical best. 8/9 - M. PopoffI just don't understand, as Ann-Margaret once sang, why an exciting band like Deep Purple, who consistently hit the top of the charts in Merrie Olde and have taken Europe by storm, remain a comparatively unknown quantity to American audiences. Especially when said audiences have wholeheartedly embraced bands with similar musical aims and not one more ampere of excitement.It's a shame, but Deep Purple themselves are at least partially to blame. Their first two American albums on Tetragammaton were mostly uninspired, despite some good cover versions of songs like "I'm So Glad" and "Hush." The basic problem seemed to be that the group hadn't really learned to write yet, so the covers were the best way to grow without losing the audience. Except that no self-respecting late-Sixties rock band wants to put out an album with nothing but covers on it, so we were left with a bunch of boring originals, half of them instrumental. When, that is, they weren't indulging in long "improvisational" forays such as their first album's bolero rendition of "Hey Joe." Jon Lord was the main culprit here, having a background of extensive formal keyboard training which tended to make his solos at least a bit Emersonic and at most positively pompous. The pretentious side of Deep Purple found its fullest expression in their first album for Warner's, Concerto For Group and Orchestra, written by Lord land performed with the aid of Malcolm Arnold and the "Royal Philharmonic Orchestra."It was an atrocity. A "movement" would begin with a few minutes of "symphonic" mush, then abruptly the orchestra would stop and the band wold start to play, build until you thought they were just about to really start cooking, and then -- whoosh -- drowned in string sections again. A recent Lord-Arnold collaboration on Capitol called Gemini Suite was just more of the same miscegenation.Fortunately, the band has seemingly realized that that sort of thing can get out of hand, because their last three albums have finally found a comfortably furious groove for them to work in, making them prime contenders among the most searingly loud and heavy bands on both sides of the Atlantic. Deep Purple in Rock was a dynamic, frenzied piece of work sounding not a little like the MC5 (anybody who thinks that all heavy bands put out thudding slabs of "downer" music just hasn't gotten into Deep Purple). Fireball was more of the same, if not quite as frantically effective. Machine Head bears strong similarities to both its immediate predecessors, lying qualitatively somewhere in between the two.And like both of them, though it delivers the Sound, the rushing, grating crunch of the hard attack, it has its ups and downs compositionally. "Highway Star" is a great opening track, quite similar both structurally and thematically to "Speed King" and "Fireball," the openers of the two previous albums. The pace is blistering, almost too fast for comfort, with lyrics that take the primeval car-girl equation and turn it into something as breathtakingly homicidal as Alice Cooper's "Under My Wheels": "Nobody's gonna take my car/I'm gonna race it to the ground/Nobody gonna beat my car/It's gonna break the speed of sound/Oooh it's a killing machine/It's got everything...""Space Truckin'" is just as good, a sci-fi boogie that's the perfect answer to all the Kantnerian pomposities and turns out to be the missing link between them and things like Wild Man Fischer's "Rocket Rock" (lyrically) and the Doors' "Hello I Love You" (musically). Once again the lyrics are ace, and never let it be said that Deep Purple don't have a sense of humor: "We had a lot of luck on Venus/We always have a ball on Mars / Meeting all the groovy people... We'd move to the Canaveral moonstop/And everynaut would dance and sway / We got music in our solar system/We're space truckin' round the stars."In between those two Deep Purple classics lies nothing but good, hard, socking music, although some of the lyrics may leave a bit to be desired. It says on the liner that "This album was written and recorded in Montreux, Switzerland, between 6th and 21st December, 1971," and much of it sounds like it was conceived on the fly, what with deathless lines like "You're lazy you just stay in bed/You don't want no money/You don't want no bread." There's even trials getting Machine Head recorded: it seemed that some local arsonist burned down the best recording studio in town but luckily the Rolling Stones' mobile unit was on hand to get the new D. Purple out on schedule.Frankly, I am not offended at all by the offhand nature of those songs. Rather than either condemn or apologize for their triteness, I will merely refer you to the current issue of Who Put the Bomp magazine, where Mark Shipper makes not of the fact that Sky Saxon wrote "Pushin' Too Hard" for the Seeds in ten minutes while waiting for his girl to get out of a supermarket -- and comments that he'd rather not publish a review of any album that contains a song that took longer than ten minutes to write.Now, I can't be that much of a purist, because I'm sure that "Highway Star" and "Space Truckin'" took at least 20 minutes to compose, but I do know that this very banality is half the fun of rock'n'roll. And I am confident that I will love the next five Deep Purple albums madly so long as they sound exactly like these last three. -- Lester Bangs, RS
It's a shame, but Deep Purple themselves are at least partially to blame. Their first two American albums on Tetragammaton were mostly uninspired, despite some good cover versions of songs like "I'm So Glad" and "Hush." The basic problem seemed to be that the group hadn't really learned to write yet, so the covers were the best way to grow without losing the audience. Except that no self-respecting late-Sixties rock band wants to put out an album with nothing but covers on it, so we were left with a bunch of boring originals, half of them instrumental. When, that is, they weren't indulging in long "improvisational" forays such as their first album's bolero rendition of "Hey Joe." Jon Lord was the main culprit here, having a background of extensive formal keyboard training which tended to make his solos at least a bit Emersonic and at most positively pompous. The pretentious side of Deep Purple found its fullest expression in their first album for Warner's, Concerto For Group and Orchestra, written by Lord land performed with the aid of Malcolm Arnold and the "Royal Philharmonic Orchestra."
It was an atrocity. A "movement" would begin with a few minutes of "symphonic" mush, then abruptly the orchestra would stop and the band wold start to play, build until you thought they were just about to really start cooking, and then -- whoosh -- drowned in string sections again. A recent Lord-Arnold collaboration on Capitol called Gemini Suite was just more of the same miscegenation.
Fortunately, the band has seemingly realized that that sort of thing can get out of hand, because their last three albums have finally found a comfortably furious groove for them to work in, making them prime contenders among the most searingly loud and heavy bands on both sides of the Atlantic. Deep Purple in Rock was a dynamic, frenzied piece of work sounding not a little like the MC5 (anybody who thinks that all heavy bands put out thudding slabs of "downer" music just hasn't gotten into Deep Purple). Fireball was more of the same, if not quite as frantically effective. Machine Head bears strong similarities to both its immediate predecessors, lying qualitatively somewhere in between the two.
And like both of them, though it delivers the Sound, the rushing, grating crunch of the hard attack, it has its ups and downs compositionally. "Highway Star" is a great opening track, quite similar both structurally and thematically to "Speed King" and "Fireball," the openers of the two previous albums. The pace is blistering, almost too fast for comfort, with lyrics that take the primeval car-girl equation and turn it into something as breathtakingly homicidal as Alice Cooper's "Under My Wheels": "Nobody's gonna take my car/I'm gonna race it to the ground/Nobody gonna beat my car/It's gonna break the speed of sound/Oooh it's a killing machine/It's got everything...""Space Truckin'" is just as good, a sci-fi boogie that's the perfect answer to all the Kantnerian pomposities and turns out to be the missing link between them and things like Wild Man Fischer's "Rocket Rock" (lyrically) and the Doors' "Hello I Love You" (musically). Once again the lyrics are ace, and never let it be said that Deep Purple don't have a sense of humor: "We had a lot of luck on Venus/We always have a ball on Mars / Meeting all the groovy people... We'd move to the Canaveral moonstop/And everynaut would dance and sway / We got music in our solar system/We're space truckin' round the stars."
In between those two Deep Purple classics lies nothing but good, hard, socking music, although some of the lyrics may leave a bit to be desired. It says on the liner that "This album was written and recorded in Montreux, Switzerland, between 6th and 21st December, 1971," and much of it sounds like it was conceived on the fly, what with deathless lines like "You're lazy you just stay in bed/You don't want no money/You don't want no bread." There's even trials getting Machine Head recorded: it seemed that some local arsonist burned down the best recording studio in town but luckily the Rolling Stones' mobile unit was on hand to get the new D. Purple out on schedule.
Frankly, I am not offended at all by the offhand nature of those songs. Rather than either condemn or apologize for their triteness, I will merely refer you to the current issue of Who Put the Bomp magazine, where Mark Shipper makes not of the fact that Sky Saxon wrote "Pushin' Too Hard" for the Seeds in ten minutes while waiting for his girl to get out of a supermarket -- and comments that he'd rather not publish a review of any album that contains a song that took longer than ten minutes to write.
Now, I can't be that much of a purist, because I'm sure that "Highway Star" and "Space Truckin'" took at least 20 minutes to compose, but I do know that this very banality is half the fun of rock'n'roll. And I am confident that I will love the next five Deep Purple albums madly so long as they sound exactly like these last three. -- Lester Bangs, RS
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:40 (thirteen years ago)
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/071/MI0002071798.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:44 (thirteen years ago)
Tom d were you a fan of deep purple?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 15:51 (thirteen years ago)
No. I don't like heavy rock as a rule.
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Friday, 22 March 2013 15:57 (thirteen years ago)
Or, to be more precise, just not interested in it
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Friday, 22 March 2013 15:58 (thirteen years ago)
awww pity. Nothing at all? Not even zep or sabbath?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:00 (thirteen years ago)
181. PARLIAMENT Clones of Dr. Funkenstein (1384 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #149 for 1976http://sturgeon.css.psu.edu/~mloewen/Q7/scifi/Funkenstein/Funkenstein-1L.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2tD9Qn71pLf3V3wgiZj0Hqspotify:album:2tD9Qn71pLf3V3wgiZj0Hq
The message seems to be that clones are cool, and the proof seems to be the predictable yet effective funktoons that dominate the album. But I remain an unreconstructed Yurrupean rationalist/individualist, and I wish there were a few more tracks as specific as "Dr. Funkenstein" and "Sexy Body." B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Ned RaggettCome 1976, and Parliament got up to its usual tricks in that particular incarnation -- right down to opening backwards-masked vocal weirdness plus sci-fi scenarios in the "Prelude," where "funk is its own reward." With Bernie Worrell and Fred Wesley splitting the horn arrangements and Clinton and Bootsy Collins taking care of the rest, the result is a concept album of sorts you can dance to. The clones get up and do their thing throughout, and if it's not The Wall, then that's all to its benefit. The immediate downside of Clones is that it's a fairly one-note record -- every groove can just about be exchanged for any other one, unlike the wider variety apparent on other releases. Given Clinton and company's sheer work rate, something likely had to give and this is one of the stress points. There are a couple of stronger songs -- "I've Been Watching You (Move Your Sexy Body)" is classic slow jam territory. Not exactly Barry White, but hearing Parliament tone it down just enough pays off, especially with Worrell's drowsy, sensuous horn charts. "Funkin' for Fun," meanwhile, brings the album to a strong, lively end, with just enough in the call-and-response vocals and horns to spark some extra energy into the proceedings. As is the case with most mid- to late-'70s Parliament, things may not be as deep as what was done as Funkadelic, but only those who always explicitly value lyrical worth have any cause to complain. Listening to the silly squeals and burbles on "Dr. Funkenstein" itself is pure fun with sound, while the good doctor's speech is scientific craziness. As one voice says out of nowhere, "Kiss me on my ego!" Special bonus -- the utterly goofball cover photo, one of P-Funk's best.
Come 1976, and Parliament got up to its usual tricks in that particular incarnation -- right down to opening backwards-masked vocal weirdness plus sci-fi scenarios in the "Prelude," where "funk is its own reward." With Bernie Worrell and Fred Wesley splitting the horn arrangements and Clinton and Bootsy Collins taking care of the rest, the result is a concept album of sorts you can dance to. The clones get up and do their thing throughout, and if it's not The Wall, then that's all to its benefit. The immediate downside of Clones is that it's a fairly one-note record -- every groove can just about be exchanged for any other one, unlike the wider variety apparent on other releases. Given Clinton and company's sheer work rate, something likely had to give and this is one of the stress points. There are a couple of stronger songs -- "I've Been Watching You (Move Your Sexy Body)" is classic slow jam territory. Not exactly Barry White, but hearing Parliament tone it down just enough pays off, especially with Worrell's drowsy, sensuous horn charts. "Funkin' for Fun," meanwhile, brings the album to a strong, lively end, with just enough in the call-and-response vocals and horns to spark some extra energy into the proceedings. As is the case with most mid- to late-'70s Parliament, things may not be as deep as what was done as Funkadelic, but only those who always explicitly value lyrical worth have any cause to complain. Listening to the silly squeals and burbles on "Dr. Funkenstein" itself is pure fun with sound, while the good doctor's speech is scientific craziness. As one voice says out of nowhere, "Kiss me on my ego!" Special bonus -- the utterly goofball cover photo, one of P-Funk's best.
Track Listing:Prelude {G Clinton, B Worrell} 1:40 lyricsGamin' On Ya {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:01 lyricsDr. Funkenstein {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 5:46 lyricsChildren of Productions {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:57 lyricsGettin' To Know You {G Clinton, Garry Shider} 5:18 lyricsDo That Stuff {G Clinton, G Shider, B Worrell} 4:47 lyricsEverything Is On the One {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:47 lyricsI've Been Watching You (Move Your Sexy Body) {G Clinton, G Shider, Glen Goins} 6:00 lyricsFunkin' For Fun {G Clinton, G Shider, G Goins} 5:55 lyricsPersonnel:Vocals: George Clinton, Calvin Simon, Fuzzy Haskins, Raymond Davis, Grady Thomas, Garry Shider, Glen Goins, Bootsy CollinsHorns: Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker, Rick Gardner, Michael Brecker, Randy BreckerBass: Bootsy Collins, Cordell MossonGuitars: Garry Shider, Michael Hampton, Glen GoinsDrums & Percussion: Jerome Brailey, Bootsy Collins, Gary CooperKeyboards & Synthesizers: Bernie WorrellExtra Singing Clones: Debbie Edwards, Taka Khan, Gary Cooper "Dr. Funkenstein"Lead Vocals: George ClintonTrombone Solo: Fred Wesley "Gettin' To Know You"Lead Vocals: Garry ShiderSax Solo: Michael BreckerPiano Solo: Bernie Worrell "Do That Stuff"Co-Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Glenn Goins, Garry Shider, Taka Kahn (harmony)Trumpet Solo: Rick Gardner "I've Been Watching You"Lead Vocals: Glenn Goins "Funkin' For Fun"Lead Vocals: Glenn GoinsRating: GZ **** RC ****1/2 MM ****1/2Comments:RC: This album follows directly from Mothership Connection in terms of concept, but not in its musical daring. The tone is lighter, friendlier, one might even say more commercial. George has even admitted as much. Horns and vocals dominate this album, with guitars being mostly an afterthought, and the jazzier inclinations of Bernie & Bootsy being reigned in somewhat. That being said, it's still an incredibly funky album that in many ways is an excellent starting point for new P.Funk fans. The songs are full of lyrical and musical hooks, the lyrics are clever, and the band is still at their peak. Starchild's mentor, Dr. Funkenstein, is introduced, and we are told that aliens laid the secrets of funk in the pyramids, and they are now returning to set us free."Prelude" basically gives us the whole premise of the album, which is most closely followed on the first few songs. "Gamin' On Ya" has the keyboards and horns way out front, with the vocalists chanting a line from the earlier Parliament song, "Come In Out Of The Rain": 'People keep waitin' on a change, but they ain't got enough sense to come in out of the rain.' Dr. Funkenstein's name is invoked, as though this was the warm up act for the Doctor himself. The song features precise and tasteful horn arrangements, and it's catchy without being overly repetitive. "Dr. Funkenstein" features some more of that squirmy- sounding keyboard from Bernie, with another of Clinton's best vocal performances, as the Doc is 'preoccupied and dedicated to the preservation of the motion of hips.' It features another great horn arrangement, with some irresistable hooks. For all that, it still sounds 'light', as though it were trying to hard to be a hit; it sounds like some of the more challenging parts of the song were toned down on the musical end. "Children Of Productions" is the closest thing to a message song on the album, continuing in the same theme. The Children are the Doc's clones, created to 'blow the cobwebs out your mind.' This is an early references to the divisions in society created by those in power, in order to keep people fighting each other. The song features a nice horn solo and fine singing. "Gettin' To Know You" deviates from the theme, but is one of the best songs on the album. The bass is much more out front on this one, but the song's real star is vocalist Garry Shider. "Do That Stuff" was the album's hit, obviously the most commercial song there, but it's still chock full of little touches that make it a gem. There's a driving guitar riff, excellent drumming & percussion, great singing, and the upfront but still tastefully restrained horns. "Everything Is On The One" is my favorite song, an absolutely irresitable, cheerful tune. It features some an addictive and catchy horn arrangement, funky bass playing (listen hard and you'll be amazed just how funky), and more synth madness from Bernie for variety. The message is one of harmony, remembering that we're all part of life's rhythm. "I've Been Watching You" is another Glen Goins vocal tour-de-force, beginning with a fuzzy guitar intro unusual on Parliament albums. It's propelled by the usual suspects: drummer Jerome Brailey and the horn section. "Funkin' For Fun" is a revisitation of the harder dance-funk of earlier albums, building up to furious and funky pace by the end of the song.This album is similar to Chocolate City in that most of the songs sound pretty similar and that there's not a lot of lyrical depth, but these flaws are quickly forgiven because of the fantastic skill and soul of the musicians and vocalists. The album deserves to be considered as one of Parliament's best albums.MW: When you play the "Prelude" backwards, you'll hear Dr. Funk saying 3 or 4 times, "Listen while I tell you of the Clones."MM: This is also a very well rounded album. There are really no weak links. "Gamin On Ya" is nice, "Do That Stuff", "I've Been Watching You", and "Gettin To Know You" are all good songs. "Dr. Funkenstein" is my personal favorite.
Prelude {G Clinton, B Worrell} 1:40 lyricsGamin' On Ya {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:01 lyricsDr. Funkenstein {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 5:46 lyricsChildren of Productions {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:57 lyricsGettin' To Know You {G Clinton, Garry Shider} 5:18 lyricsDo That Stuff {G Clinton, G Shider, B Worrell} 4:47 lyricsEverything Is On the One {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:47 lyricsI've Been Watching You (Move Your Sexy Body) {G Clinton, G Shider, Glen Goins} 6:00 lyricsFunkin' For Fun {G Clinton, G Shider, G Goins} 5:55 lyrics
Vocals: George Clinton, Calvin Simon, Fuzzy Haskins, Raymond Davis, Grady Thomas, Garry Shider, Glen Goins, Bootsy CollinsHorns: Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker, Rick Gardner, Michael Brecker, Randy BreckerBass: Bootsy Collins, Cordell MossonGuitars: Garry Shider, Michael Hampton, Glen GoinsDrums & Percussion: Jerome Brailey, Bootsy Collins, Gary CooperKeyboards & Synthesizers: Bernie WorrellExtra Singing Clones: Debbie Edwards, Taka Khan, Gary Cooper
"Dr. Funkenstein"Lead Vocals: George ClintonTrombone Solo: Fred Wesley
"Gettin' To Know You"Lead Vocals: Garry ShiderSax Solo: Michael BreckerPiano Solo: Bernie Worrell
"Do That Stuff"Co-Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Glenn Goins, Garry Shider, Taka Kahn (harmony)Trumpet Solo: Rick Gardner
"I've Been Watching You"Lead Vocals: Glenn Goins
"Funkin' For Fun"Lead Vocals: Glenn Goins
Rating: GZ **** RC ****1/2 MM ****1/2
RC: This album follows directly from Mothership Connection in terms of concept, but not in its musical daring. The tone is lighter, friendlier, one might even say more commercial. George has even admitted as much. Horns and vocals dominate this album, with guitars being mostly an afterthought, and the jazzier inclinations of Bernie & Bootsy being reigned in somewhat. That being said, it's still an incredibly funky album that in many ways is an excellent starting point for new P.Funk fans. The songs are full of lyrical and musical hooks, the lyrics are clever, and the band is still at their peak. Starchild's mentor, Dr. Funkenstein, is introduced, and we are told that aliens laid the secrets of funk in the pyramids, and they are now returning to set us free.
"Prelude" basically gives us the whole premise of the album, which is most closely followed on the first few songs. "Gamin' On Ya" has the keyboards and horns way out front, with the vocalists chanting a line from the earlier Parliament song, "Come In Out Of The Rain": 'People keep waitin' on a change, but they ain't got enough sense to come in out of the rain.' Dr. Funkenstein's name is invoked, as though this was the warm up act for the Doctor himself. The song features precise and tasteful horn arrangements, and it's catchy without being overly repetitive. "Dr. Funkenstein" features some more of that squirmy- sounding keyboard from Bernie, with another of Clinton's best vocal performances, as the Doc is 'preoccupied and dedicated to the preservation of the motion of hips.' It features another great horn arrangement, with some irresistable hooks. For all that, it still sounds 'light', as though it were trying to hard to be a hit; it sounds like some of the more challenging parts of the song were toned down on the musical end. "Children Of Productions" is the closest thing to a message song on the album, continuing in the same theme. The Children are the Doc's clones, created to 'blow the cobwebs out your mind.' This is an early references to the divisions in society created by those in power, in order to keep people fighting each other. The song features a nice horn solo and fine singing. "Gettin' To Know You" deviates from the theme, but is one of the best songs on the album. The bass is much more out front on this one, but the song's real star is vocalist Garry Shider. "Do That Stuff" was the album's hit, obviously the most commercial song there, but it's still chock full of little touches that make it a gem. There's a driving guitar riff, excellent drumming & percussion, great singing, and the upfront but still tastefully restrained horns. "Everything Is On The One" is my favorite song, an absolutely irresitable, cheerful tune. It features some an addictive and catchy horn arrangement, funky bass playing (listen hard and you'll be amazed just how funky), and more synth madness from Bernie for variety. The message is one of harmony, remembering that we're all part of life's rhythm. "I've Been Watching You" is another Glen Goins vocal tour-de-force, beginning with a fuzzy guitar intro unusual on Parliament albums. It's propelled by the usual suspects: drummer Jerome Brailey and the horn section. "Funkin' For Fun" is a revisitation of the harder dance-funk of earlier albums, building up to furious and funky pace by the end of the song.
This album is similar to Chocolate City in that most of the songs sound pretty similar and that there's not a lot of lyrical depth, but these flaws are quickly forgiven because of the fantastic skill and soul of the musicians and vocalists. The album deserves to be considered as one of Parliament's best albums.
MW: When you play the "Prelude" backwards, you'll hear Dr. Funk saying 3 or 4 times, "Listen while I tell you of the Clones."
MM: This is also a very well rounded album. There are really no weak links. "Gamin On Ya" is nice, "Do That Stuff", "I've Been Watching You", and "Gettin To Know You" are all good songs. "Dr. Funkenstein" is my personal favorite.
I agree with the guy from the motherpage as clones is one of my faves too
Ok I am listening to Taj Majal Travellers and 1) I love it, yowza and 2) does it "rock" at some point? I don't really understand what it's doing in this poll outside of totally ruling.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Friday, 22 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
It was in under weird or arty I guess
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:07 (thirteen years ago)
Best album cover. They need to make George Clinton & Bootsy figures. I've got ones in my office of Lemmy, Ozzy and Iggy.
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:12 (thirteen years ago)
"Dr Funkenstein, it's ALIVE!!!"
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:14 (thirteen years ago)
Parliament make the best album covers, seriously.
― emil.y, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:19 (thirteen years ago)
180. PARLIAMENT Chocolate City (1390 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #312 for 1975http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CWNXGhdtqLI/TxLF_Q-JWGI/AAAAAAAAApA/0bQ4ldARz6s/s1600/Parliament+%25281975%2529+-+Chocolate+City+%2528A%2529.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/7qxDujoTw6aX2oVj2m1na8spotify:album:7qxDujoTw6aX2oVj2m1na8
On the first side A DJ who reminds me of original AM scatman Jocko Henderson jive-raps on the satisfactions of suffrage and then gives way to a danceable, listenable, forgettable groove. On the second side, interesting but hookless off-harmony excursions, two of them too slow and/or too long, break into some heavy funk for the ages. B -- R. Christgau
reviewby Jason BirchmeierParliament's second album for Casablanca, following Up for the Down Stroke (1974), Chocolate City isn't one of the group's better-known albums. Unlike its predecessor and successive albums such as Mothership Connection (1976), it lacks a signature hit; even though the title track and "Ride On" charted as singles, they're minor in comparison to definitive classics such as "Up for the Down Stroke" and "Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker)." Though it's not one of the better-known Parliament albums, Chocolate City is nonetheless one of their best and perhaps most underrated. There's a wealth of musical talent to be heard here -- most notably Bootsy Collins, Bernie Worrell, and Eddie Hazel -- and an emphasis on horns and harmony vocals. Plus, there's no overarching narrative as there would be on successive albums, occasionally to a fault. Instead, this is a collection of stand-alone songs, none topping the six-minute mark. Regardless of its lack of signature hits, Chocolate City is a Parliament album that shouldn't be overlooked.
Parliament's second album for Casablanca, following Up for the Down Stroke (1974), Chocolate City isn't one of the group's better-known albums. Unlike its predecessor and successive albums such as Mothership Connection (1976), it lacks a signature hit; even though the title track and "Ride On" charted as singles, they're minor in comparison to definitive classics such as "Up for the Down Stroke" and "Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker)." Though it's not one of the better-known Parliament albums, Chocolate City is nonetheless one of their best and perhaps most underrated. There's a wealth of musical talent to be heard here -- most notably Bootsy Collins, Bernie Worrell, and Eddie Hazel -- and an emphasis on horns and harmony vocals. Plus, there's no overarching narrative as there would be on successive albums, occasionally to a fault. Instead, this is a collection of stand-alone songs, none topping the six-minute mark. Regardless of its lack of signature hits, Chocolate City is a Parliament album that shouldn't be overlooked.
Track Listing:Chocolate City {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 5:37 lyricsRide On {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:34 lyricsTogether {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 4:07 lyricsSide Effects {G Clinton, W Collins, A Kilson} 3:13 lyricsWhat Comes Funky {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 2:23 lyricsLet Me Be {G Clinton, Vivian Lewis} 5:37 lyricsIf It Don't Fit (Don't Force It) {G Clinton, B Worrell, Garry Shider} 2:07 lyricsI Misjudged You {G Clinton, Clarence Haskins, Ernie Harris} 5:14 lyricsBig Footin' {G Clinton, C Haskins, G Shider} 4:50 lyricsPersonnel: Bass: Bootsy Collins, Cordell "Boogie" Mosson, Prakash JohnGuitar: Gary Shider, Bootsy Collins, Cordell MossonDrums: Tiki Fulwood, Ty Lampkin, Man In the BoxKeyboards: Bernie WorrellHorn & String Arrangements: Bernie WorrellRhythm Arrangements: Bootsy Collins, George ClintonVocals: Parliament, Gary Shider, Eddie HazelBackground Vocals: Mallia Franklin, Gary "Mudbone" Cooper "Chocolate City"Lead Vocals: George ClintonPiano Solo: Bernie WorrellSax Solo: Michael Brecker "Ride On"Lead Vocals: George ClintonFeatured Background Vocals: Bootsy Collins, Mallia Franklin, Garry Shider, Gary "Mudbone" CooperSax: Michael BreckerTrumpet: Randy Brecker "Together"Trombone Solo: Fred Wesley "Let Me Be"Lead Vocals: Eddie HazelRating: GZ *** RC ***1/2 MM ***Comments:GZ: Highlights include title track, "Side Effects", "Ride On"RC: The songwriting team of Clinton-Collins-Worrell starts to get warmed up here, but doesn't quite go all the way off--yet. The influence of the other Parliament members and Eddie Hazel has slowly faded by this time, and this album is 100% funk, all the way through. The early eclecticism is abandoned for jam after rump-shakin' jam. While it makes for a great party record, it doesn't make for the Funk Mob's greatest work of art, but it is certainly a good time. The album is solid from beginning to end, and even if it sounds a bit derivative of other funk acts, it doesn't matter much because of the raw talent of Bootsy & Bernie, the two people who completely dominate the album. Clinton adds such Isaac Hayes-inspired funk conventions as strings, female backing vocals, and wah-wah guitar to his usual mix. Lyrically, he dumbs it down a bit, or at least mainstreams it, making most of the songs typical chants for funk songs. Presumably, this was done for commercial reasons. Of course, the album did not prove to be a huge commercial success, possibly because there wasn't a lot about it that differentiated it from other good funk albums of the time, and there were many. It was only when Bootsy, Bernie and George unleashed their full weirdness and combined funk with jazz (on the musical end) and science fiction as a political metaphor (on the lyrical end) that things really took off.Of course, the exception to everything mentioned above is the classic title track, "Chocolate City", one of Parliament's most brilliant creations. It features an early George rap, with the rhythm and tone of his voice in perfect synch with the rest of the song. The song is almost jazzy at points, with a lot of superb improvisation from the horns. That is, when they weren't being perfectly arranged by Bernie, another of his many skills. Bootsy holds down the bottom while Bernie plays one of his driving melodies, often doubling up with the bass. This is one of Parliament's earliest political rumblings, a positive, hilarious message about empowerment. `Gettin' deep. Real deep.` The next song, "Ride On", is a great dance groove, featuring irresistable hooks (`It ain't what you know, it's what you feel/Don't worry about being right, just be for real.`), a monstrous bassline from Bootsy, and get-your-feets-to-movin' wah-wah guitar. This is the best dance track on the album, with the heavy rhythm sound matched perfectly by the more muted horn section. "Together" continues that meaty bass sound, doubling up with the keyboard. Mudbone Cooper makes an early P.Funk appearance, with his trademark falsettos the highlight of the song. "Side Effects" is basically more of the same, this time with that Parliament lead-swapping trademark. Mallia Franklin is notable as a background singer. "What Comes Funky" features more lead vocals from George, with a more muted bass sound and a greater emphasis on vocals. "Let Me Be" finally slows down the pace, with a great piano intro from Bernie sliding smoothly into his trademark high synth sounds. It also features my favorite vocal performance of the album, again in perfect empathy with the music, as the vocals and music both swell to a crescendo. Eddie gets the credit here. "If It Don't Fit" is another good dance tune, much lighter in tone and faster in pace than the others on the album. It's driven by great backup vocals and another snappy keyboard melody, and enhanced by more subtle horn work. "I Misjudged You" is the obligatory slow ballad that shows up on most P.Funk albums. This one isn't one of the strongest, with the strings sounding a bit schmaltzy, and the lyrics are a bit weak. The album ends on a good note, with one of Parliament's most underrated dance jams, "Big Footin'", featuring some nice singing from Ray Davis, some great drumming, and standout vocals from Glenn Goins and the backup singers.All-in-all, solid but not groundbreaking, and somewhat repetitive at points.TK: The single "Together" was originally recorded by Bootsy & Complete Strangers. The only person I know that has the single is Flip Cornett, rhythm guitarist for the New Rubber Band.MM: Cohesive, but not enough bite.
Chocolate City {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 5:37 lyricsRide On {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:34 lyricsTogether {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 4:07 lyricsSide Effects {G Clinton, W Collins, A Kilson} 3:13 lyricsWhat Comes Funky {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 2:23 lyricsLet Me Be {G Clinton, Vivian Lewis} 5:37 lyricsIf It Don't Fit (Don't Force It) {G Clinton, B Worrell, Garry Shider} 2:07 lyricsI Misjudged You {G Clinton, Clarence Haskins, Ernie Harris} 5:14 lyricsBig Footin' {G Clinton, C Haskins, G Shider} 4:50 lyrics
Bass: Bootsy Collins, Cordell "Boogie" Mosson, Prakash JohnGuitar: Gary Shider, Bootsy Collins, Cordell MossonDrums: Tiki Fulwood, Ty Lampkin, Man In the BoxKeyboards: Bernie WorrellHorn & String Arrangements: Bernie WorrellRhythm Arrangements: Bootsy Collins, George ClintonVocals: Parliament, Gary Shider, Eddie HazelBackground Vocals: Mallia Franklin, Gary "Mudbone" Cooper
"Chocolate City"Lead Vocals: George ClintonPiano Solo: Bernie WorrellSax Solo: Michael Brecker
"Ride On"Lead Vocals: George ClintonFeatured Background Vocals: Bootsy Collins, Mallia Franklin, Garry Shider, Gary "Mudbone" CooperSax: Michael BreckerTrumpet: Randy Brecker
"Together"Trombone Solo: Fred Wesley
"Let Me Be"Lead Vocals: Eddie Hazel
GZ: Highlights include title track, "Side Effects", "Ride On"
RC: The songwriting team of Clinton-Collins-Worrell starts to get warmed up here, but doesn't quite go all the way off--yet. The influence of the other Parliament members and Eddie Hazel has slowly faded by this time, and this album is 100% funk, all the way through. The early eclecticism is abandoned for jam after rump-shakin' jam. While it makes for a great party record, it doesn't make for the Funk Mob's greatest work of art, but it is certainly a good time. The album is solid from beginning to end, and even if it sounds a bit derivative of other funk acts, it doesn't matter much because of the raw talent of Bootsy & Bernie, the two people who completely dominate the album. Clinton adds such Isaac Hayes-inspired funk conventions as strings, female backing vocals, and wah-wah guitar to his usual mix. Lyrically, he dumbs it down a bit, or at least mainstreams it, making most of the songs typical chants for funk songs. Presumably, this was done for commercial reasons. Of course, the album did not prove to be a huge commercial success, possibly because there wasn't a lot about it that differentiated it from other good funk albums of the time, and there were many. It was only when Bootsy, Bernie and George unleashed their full weirdness and combined funk with jazz (on the musical end) and science fiction as a political metaphor (on the lyrical end) that things really took off.
Of course, the exception to everything mentioned above is the classic title track, "Chocolate City", one of Parliament's most brilliant creations. It features an early George rap, with the rhythm and tone of his voice in perfect synch with the rest of the song. The song is almost jazzy at points, with a lot of superb improvisation from the horns. That is, when they weren't being perfectly arranged by Bernie, another of his many skills. Bootsy holds down the bottom while Bernie plays one of his driving melodies, often doubling up with the bass. This is one of Parliament's earliest political rumblings, a positive, hilarious message about empowerment. `Gettin' deep. Real deep.` The next song, "Ride On", is a great dance groove, featuring irresistable hooks (`It ain't what you know, it's what you feel/Don't worry about being right, just be for real.`), a monstrous bassline from Bootsy, and get-your-feets-to-movin' wah-wah guitar. This is the best dance track on the album, with the heavy rhythm sound matched perfectly by the more muted horn section. "Together" continues that meaty bass sound, doubling up with the keyboard. Mudbone Cooper makes an early P.Funk appearance, with his trademark falsettos the highlight of the song. "Side Effects" is basically more of the same, this time with that Parliament lead-swapping trademark. Mallia Franklin is notable as a background singer. "What Comes Funky" features more lead vocals from George, with a more muted bass sound and a greater emphasis on vocals. "Let Me Be" finally slows down the pace, with a great piano intro from Bernie sliding smoothly into his trademark high synth sounds. It also features my favorite vocal performance of the album, again in perfect empathy with the music, as the vocals and music both swell to a crescendo. Eddie gets the credit here. "If It Don't Fit" is another good dance tune, much lighter in tone and faster in pace than the others on the album. It's driven by great backup vocals and another snappy keyboard melody, and enhanced by more subtle horn work. "I Misjudged You" is the obligatory slow ballad that shows up on most P.Funk albums. This one isn't one of the strongest, with the strings sounding a bit schmaltzy, and the lyrics are a bit weak. The album ends on a good note, with one of Parliament's most underrated dance jams, "Big Footin'", featuring some nice singing from Ray Davis, some great drumming, and standout vocals from Glenn Goins and the backup singers.
All-in-all, solid but not groundbreaking, and somewhat repetitive at points.
TK: The single "Together" was originally recorded by Bootsy & Complete Strangers. The only person I know that has the single is Flip Cornett, rhythm guitarist for the New Rubber Band.
MM: Cohesive, but not enough bite.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:20 (thirteen years ago)
"Chocolate City"Uh, what's happening CC?They still call it the White HouseBut that's a temporary condition, too.Can you dig it, CC?To each his reachAnd if I don't cop, it ain't mine to haveBut I'll be reachin' for ya'Cause I love ya, CC.Right on.There's a lot of chocolate cities, aroundWe've got Newark, we've got GarySomebody told me we got L.A.And we're working on AtlantaBut you're the capital, CCGainin' on ya!Get downGainin' on ya!Movin' in and on yaGainin' on ya!Can't you feel my breath, hehGainin' on ya!All up around your neck, heh hehHey, CC!They say your jivin' game, it can't be changedBut on the positive side,You're my piece of the rockAnd I love you, CC.Can you dig it?Hey, uh, we didn't get our forty acres and a muleBut we did get you, CC, heh, yeahGainin' on yaMovin' in and around yaGod bless CC and its vanilla suburbsGainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya! (heh!)Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!What's happening, blood?Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Yeah!What's happening, black?Brother black, blood evenYeah-ahh, just funnin'Gettin' downAh, blood to bloodAh, players to ladiesThe last percentage count was eightyYou don't need the bullet when you got the ballotAre you up for the downstroke, CC?Chocolate cityAre you with me out there?And when they come to march on yaTell 'em to make sure they got their James Brown passAnd don't be surprised if Ali is in the White HouseReverend Ike, Secretary of the TreasureRichard Pryor, Minister of EducationStevie Wonder, Secretary of FINE artsAnd Miss Aretha Franklin, the First LadyAre you out there, CC?A chocolate city is no dreamIt's my piece of the rock and I dig you, CCGod bless Chocolate City and its (gainin' on ya!) vanilla suburbsCan y'all get to that?Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Easin' inGainin' on ya!In yo' stuffGainin' on ya!Huh, can't get enoughGainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Be mo' funk, be mo' funkGainin' on ya!Can we funk you tooGainin' on ya!Right on, chocolate city!Yeah, get deepReal deepHehBe mo' funkMmmph, hehGet deepBadUnh, hehJust got New York, I'm told
To each his reachAnd if I don't cop, it ain't mine to haveBut I'll be reachin' for ya'Cause I love ya, CC.Right on.
There's a lot of chocolate cities, aroundWe've got Newark, we've got GarySomebody told me we got L.A.And we're working on AtlantaBut you're the capital, CC
Gainin' on ya!Get downGainin' on ya!Movin' in and on yaGainin' on ya!Can't you feel my breath, hehGainin' on ya!All up around your neck, heh heh
Hey, CC!They say your jivin' game, it can't be changedBut on the positive side,You're my piece of the rockAnd I love you, CC.Can you dig it?
Hey, uh, we didn't get our forty acres and a muleBut we did get you, CC, heh, yeahGainin' on yaMovin' in and around yaGod bless CC and its vanilla suburbs
Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya! (heh!)Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!What's happening, blood?Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!
Yeah!What's happening, black?Brother black, blood evenYeah-ahh, just funnin'
Gettin' down
Ah, blood to bloodAh, players to ladiesThe last percentage count was eightyYou don't need the bullet when you got the ballotAre you up for the downstroke, CC?Chocolate cityAre you with me out there?
And when they come to march on yaTell 'em to make sure they got their James Brown passAnd don't be surprised if Ali is in the White HouseReverend Ike, Secretary of the TreasureRichard Pryor, Minister of EducationStevie Wonder, Secretary of FINE artsAnd Miss Aretha Franklin, the First LadyAre you out there, CC?A chocolate city is no dreamIt's my piece of the rock and I dig you, CCGod bless Chocolate City and its (gainin' on ya!) vanilla suburbsCan y'all get to that?Gainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Easin' inGainin' on ya!In yo' stuffGainin' on ya!Huh, can't get enoughGainin' on ya!Gainin' on ya!Be mo' funk, be mo' funkGainin' on ya!Can we funk you tooGainin' on ya!Right on, chocolate city!
Yeah, get deepReal deepHehBe mo' funkMmmph, hehGet deepBadUnh, hehJust got New York, I'm told
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:21 (thirteen years ago)
I like the pedro bell funkadelic album covers best
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:22 (thirteen years ago)
179. PETER HAMMILL Nadir's Big Chance (1391 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #88 for 1975 , #3399 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/284/MI0002284223.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0BDKAyEOyGkWLNkXIf53S3spotify:album:0BDKAyEOyGkWLNkXIf53S3
A remark by Johnny Rotten citing Peter Hammill's Nadir's Big Chance as an influence cast a brief but bright UK hip-media spotlight on an artist who has otherwise spent most of his long career in the shadows. (Lydon later publicly insulted Hammill ? not rotten enough?)Until the group's demise in 1978, Hammill split his studio time between Van der Graaf (ten LPs) and solo recordings made with some or all of his bandmates. The most influential and best remembered of these is the 1975 LP (Hammill's fifth) for which he assumed the identity of "anarchic" teenager Rikki Nadir. While some tunes and arrangements may be simpler than his usual, none of it's really punk, rather more like Hunky Dory, though less image-conscious, much bleaker, more confessional and barely produced at all. A stimulating, affecting record. -- Trouser Press
Until the group's demise in 1978, Hammill split his studio time between Van der Graaf (ten LPs) and solo recordings made with some or all of his bandmates. The most influential and best remembered of these is the 1975 LP (Hammill's fifth) for which he assumed the identity of "anarchic" teenager Rikki Nadir. While some tunes and arrangements may be simpler than his usual, none of it's really punk, rather more like Hunky Dory, though less image-conscious, much bleaker, more confessional and barely produced at all. A stimulating, affecting record. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Steven McDonaldRepresenting a stylistic left turn for Peter Hammill, this raucous, messy, rock platter was often cited as an influence by the first wave of punks in England (the second album was often cited for being David Bowie's influence for Diamond Dogs). While essentially proving himself incapable of writing three-minute, three-chord rock & roll numbers, Hammill (taking on the guise of Rikki Nadir, i.e. dumb garage rocker) lays into his guitar with a vengeance, screaming out lyrics that are often unintelligible (the album did not come with a lyric sheet; this was the first Hammill album ever to make the listener depend upon the recording), while Guy Evans, Nic Potter, David Jackson, and Hugh Banton thrash along behind him. Among the treats are the title cut, "Birthday Special," the dolorous "Pompeii," and a remake of the early Van der Graaf Generator single "People You Were Going To." Hammill would never let himself be this wild and hairy again.
Representing a stylistic left turn for Peter Hammill, this raucous, messy, rock platter was often cited as an influence by the first wave of punks in England (the second album was often cited for being David Bowie's influence for Diamond Dogs). While essentially proving himself incapable of writing three-minute, three-chord rock & roll numbers, Hammill (taking on the guise of Rikki Nadir, i.e. dumb garage rocker) lays into his guitar with a vengeance, screaming out lyrics that are often unintelligible (the album did not come with a lyric sheet; this was the first Hammill album ever to make the listener depend upon the recording), while Guy Evans, Nic Potter, David Jackson, and Hugh Banton thrash along behind him. Among the treats are the title cut, "Birthday Special," the dolorous "Pompeii," and a remake of the early Van der Graaf Generator single "People You Were Going To." Hammill would never let himself be this wild and hairy again.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:32 (thirteen years ago)
This is a great album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:34 (thirteen years ago)
178. MANDRILL Composite Truth (1396 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #441 for 1973http://www.recordsbymail.com/uploads/June-21-2/432955.JPG
review[-] by John BushComposite Truth is Mandrill's most successful album, commercially as well as artistically. Although the band's sense of freewheeling experimentation had been tempered, its gradual transition to a straight-ahead funk band was made perfect with two of the biggest hits of its career: "Hang Loose" and "Fencewalk." "Hang Loose" is all over the place (in a good way), moving from a grooving funk jam to mid-tempo guitar skronk and back, all part of an impassioned call to peace. "Fencewalk" also had several transitions, with a crooning chorus and an extended middle section powered by heavy brass and a screaming guitar solo. Elsewhere, Mandrill turns in a very convincing impression of a salsa band ("Hágalo"), breaks into killer loose-groove funk ("Don't Mess With People," with a splendidly undecipherable vocal), and stumbles only with the long, rasta-fied San Francisco tribute "Polk Street Carnival," featuring a bass part that would make even a student smirk. (For such a strong band, Mandrill's basslines were often uncharacteristically weak.) In the main, the songs on Composite Truth were catchier than on its first two albums, and the band never appeared subservient to the sense of experimentation that had troubled it before. Even if on Composite Truth Mandrill sounded more like other funk bands of the time, no one could argue with the fact that the results were more exciting and consistent.
Composite Truth is Mandrill's most successful album, commercially as well as artistically. Although the band's sense of freewheeling experimentation had been tempered, its gradual transition to a straight-ahead funk band was made perfect with two of the biggest hits of its career: "Hang Loose" and "Fencewalk." "Hang Loose" is all over the place (in a good way), moving from a grooving funk jam to mid-tempo guitar skronk and back, all part of an impassioned call to peace. "Fencewalk" also had several transitions, with a crooning chorus and an extended middle section powered by heavy brass and a screaming guitar solo. Elsewhere, Mandrill turns in a very convincing impression of a salsa band ("Hágalo"), breaks into killer loose-groove funk ("Don't Mess With People," with a splendidly undecipherable vocal), and stumbles only with the long, rasta-fied San Francisco tribute "Polk Street Carnival," featuring a bass part that would make even a student smirk. (For such a strong band, Mandrill's basslines were often uncharacteristically weak.) In the main, the songs on Composite Truth were catchier than on its first two albums, and the band never appeared subservient to the sense of experimentation that had troubled it before. Even if on Composite Truth Mandrill sounded more like other funk bands of the time, no one could argue with the fact that the results were more exciting and consistent.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:47 (thirteen years ago)
more amazing outfits, a good selection of spiritual and not-so-spiritual headwear there.
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:48 (thirteen years ago)
i like the facial expression of the squashed beardo on the bottom
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Friday, 22 March 2013 16:51 (thirteen years ago)
Such an underrated band. My 3rd fave album of theirs.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:51 (thirteen years ago)
La Lechera are you a fan of funk?
kinda? i mean, i went through a short phase in lol college, but haven't thought about it much since. i would like to hear some instrumental groovy funk, i guess?
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Friday, 22 March 2013 16:54 (thirteen years ago)
You should be checking out the funk in the poll you haven't heard
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 16:55 (thirteen years ago)
lol, yes sir, as soon as i get back from my trip this weekend sir
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Friday, 22 March 2013 16:57 (thirteen years ago)
177. FAMILY Bandstand (1399 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #440 for 1972http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/931/MI0001931474.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1fb3G2LbddBvmBxc9tyh3Aspotify:album:1fb3G2LbddBvmBxc9tyh3A
When they kick ass on "Burlesque" or "Glove" or "Broken Nose" they sound raw and abrasive in the great English hard rock tradition, but the discords are altogether more cunning, and on this album their stubborn lyricism finally finds suitable melodies on "Coronation" and "My Friend the Sun" and the bittersweet "Dark Eyes." Their sexual anger is class-conscious, always a plus, and their sadness usually a matter of time, which they get away with when the melody is very suitable. And just as they begin to get it together they break up. B+ -- R. Christgau
reviewby John DouganNow this was more like it. Kicking off with the wickedly salacious "Burlesque," Bandstand was the best of the late Family recordings. For a band that for the most part eschewed riffs and hooks, both are in plentiful supply here. More important, by the time of Bandstand's release, Family had reconciled the war between their art-rock and hard rock tendencies; that is to say, there is more of the latter and less of the former. So, the record doesn't have the internal stress of their earlier releases, but what it does have is Chapman shouting like he could take on the world and Whitney playing like he must have when he formed the Farinas in 1962. A corker from the word go.
Now this was more like it. Kicking off with the wickedly salacious "Burlesque," Bandstand was the best of the late Family recordings. For a band that for the most part eschewed riffs and hooks, both are in plentiful supply here. More important, by the time of Bandstand's release, Family had reconciled the war between their art-rock and hard rock tendencies; that is to say, there is more of the latter and less of the former. So, the record doesn't have the internal stress of their earlier releases, but what it does have is Chapman shouting like he could take on the world and Whitney playing like he must have when he formed the Farinas in 1962. A corker from the word go.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:01 (thirteen years ago)
great album too.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:11 (thirteen years ago)
176. IGGY POP Lust for Life (1403 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #19 for 1977 , #557 overall | Acclaimed: #256http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/638/MI0001638382.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7ynKEunH8LSit4TR3foMVCspotify:album:7ynKEunH8LSit4TR3foMVC
If The Idiot exploits the (tranceprone) affinity for the slow rocker that Bowie evinced on Station to Station, this reestablishes the (apollonian) affinity for the dionysiac artist Bowie made so much of five years ago on Mott's All the Young Dudes. Like most rock and rollers, I prefer this to The Idiot because it's faster and more assertive--which means, among other things, that the nihilistic satire is counteracted by the forward motion of the music itself. A- -- ChristgauIggy reasserted himself on the rapid follow-up, Lust for Life. More upbeat than its predecessor (just check the smiling cover snap), the album swaggers along to Iggy's confident delivery of the title track, "Success," the powerful "Turn Blue" and other self-analytic tunes. While the music is largely Bowie's, and Jim Morrison's unmistakable influence is noticeable on a few vocals, the clear-eyed vision is Iggy's own. -- Trouser PressIggy Pop's second comeback album leaves one with ambivalent feelings: glad that Iggy is alive, apparently well, writing, singing and performing again, but upset because his new stance is so utterly unchallenging and cautious. Taken purely on its own terms, Lust for Life is a successful album. Side one is quite good, starting with the title cut, which rocks with a Sandy Nelson-like drum style while Iggy delivers his survivor message to the masses, and continuing to the closing track, "Tonight," easily the most straightforward pop song Iggy has written. Side two is considerably weaker, with a pair of overdrawn ballads, an infectious throwaway and one bona fide winner, the ominous "Neighborhood Threat."Were this just another album by just another artist, that might be the end of it, but Iggy Pop has never been just another entertainer. As rock's truest bad boy, Iggy led the Stooges with a vision of frustrated, depressed and angry young adult life that will probably never be seen (or dared) again. That he has come back from the edge relatively intact is almost a miracle. With David Bowie as producer and guide, he is actually realizing a career for the first time. Like Lou Reed, Iggy is most likely headed on a course just left of center, bizarre enough to attract those inclined toward something different but safe enough not to scare them away.It is questionable, though, whether Iggy has anything important left to say. To make any art in the future, he would probably have to start self-destructing, and neither he nor any of us really want to see him crawling through the broken glass again. Here comes success, Iggy, and you deserve it more than just about any perform I've ever seen or heard. I just wish there were some way that your music could be important and your life happy at the same time. -- Billy Altman, RSThe year 1977 was Iggy Pop's annus mirablis. He returned from well-documented mental and professional problems to produce two albums that any artist would be happy with over the course of a career, and he also saw punk-- the movement he was often hailed as the "godfather" of -- come to fruition.Like The Idiot, Lust For Life was recorded in Berlin's Hansa Studios, just by the Wall, but where that album had been more contemplative and influenced by producer Bowie, Lust... represented a return to the more punchy sound of The Stooges (although Bowie did play piano and contribute vocals). Where the former album had been the sound of a man feeling his way back in music, Lust For Life was far more confident.From the ebullient drum intro of the title track, the songs are driven by the rhythm section of Hunt (drums) and Tony (bass) Sales, the second pair of brothers to fulfill this role for Pop. (The Sales brothers were later to reappear as half of Tin Machine, Bowie's late-Eighties stab at art-house hard rock, of whom the less said the better.) The band seamlessly cover a range of genres from wig-out stomp to bluesy rock.Lyrically, Lust For Life is a revelation, as Pop uses the experience of his troubled ears to great effect on "The Passenger," a jaunt through a metropolis of excesses which, while he may not be able to sample them any more himself are picture-perfectly recalled. He is in even more caustic form with "Success," a tongue-in-cheek poke at his newfound position.While a generation of young punks paid tribute to his previous work, Pop was moving up a notch. -- Seth Jacobson, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
Iggy Pop's second comeback album leaves one with ambivalent feelings: glad that Iggy is alive, apparently well, writing, singing and performing again, but upset because his new stance is so utterly unchallenging and cautious. Taken purely on its own terms, Lust for Life is a successful album. Side one is quite good, starting with the title cut, which rocks with a Sandy Nelson-like drum style while Iggy delivers his survivor message to the masses, and continuing to the closing track, "Tonight," easily the most straightforward pop song Iggy has written. Side two is considerably weaker, with a pair of overdrawn ballads, an infectious throwaway and one bona fide winner, the ominous "Neighborhood Threat."
Were this just another album by just another artist, that might be the end of it, but Iggy Pop has never been just another entertainer. As rock's truest bad boy, Iggy led the Stooges with a vision of frustrated, depressed and angry young adult life that will probably never be seen (or dared) again. That he has come back from the edge relatively intact is almost a miracle. With David Bowie as producer and guide, he is actually realizing a career for the first time. Like Lou Reed, Iggy is most likely headed on a course just left of center, bizarre enough to attract those inclined toward something different but safe enough not to scare them away.
It is questionable, though, whether Iggy has anything important left to say. To make any art in the future, he would probably have to start self-destructing, and neither he nor any of us really want to see him crawling through the broken glass again. Here comes success, Iggy, and you deserve it more than just about any perform I've ever seen or heard. I just wish there were some way that your music could be important and your life happy at the same time. -- Billy Altman, RS
The year 1977 was Iggy Pop's annus mirablis. He returned from well-documented mental and professional problems to produce two albums that any artist would be happy with over the course of a career, and he also saw punk-- the movement he was often hailed as the "godfather" of -- come to fruition.
Like The Idiot, Lust For Life was recorded in Berlin's Hansa Studios, just by the Wall, but where that album had been more contemplative and influenced by producer Bowie, Lust... represented a return to the more punchy sound of The Stooges (although Bowie did play piano and contribute vocals). Where the former album had been the sound of a man feeling his way back in music, Lust For Life was far more confident.
From the ebullient drum intro of the title track, the songs are driven by the rhythm section of Hunt (drums) and Tony (bass) Sales, the second pair of brothers to fulfill this role for Pop. (The Sales brothers were later to reappear as half of Tin Machine, Bowie's late-Eighties stab at art-house hard rock, of whom the less said the better.) The band seamlessly cover a range of genres from wig-out stomp to bluesy rock.
Lyrically, Lust For Life is a revelation, as Pop uses the experience of his troubled ears to great effect on "The Passenger," a jaunt through a metropolis of excesses which, while he may not be able to sample them any more himself are picture-perfectly recalled. He is in even more caustic form with "Success," a tongue-in-cheek poke at his newfound position.
While a generation of young punks paid tribute to his previous work, Pop was moving up a notch. -- Seth Jacobson, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
review[-] by Mark DemingOn The Idiot, Iggy Pop looked deep inside himself, trying to figure out how his life and his art had gone wrong in the past. But on Lust for Life, released less than a year later, Iggy decided it was time to kick up his heels, as he traded in the mid-tempo introspection of his first album and began rocking hard again. Musically, Lust for Life is a more aggressive set than The Idiot, largely thanks to drummer Hunt Sales and his bassist brother Tony Sales. The Sales' proved they were a world class rhythm section, laying out power and spirit on the rollicking title cut, the tough groove of "Tonight," and the lean neo-punk assault of "Neighborhood Threat," and with guitarists Ricky Gardner and Carlos Alomar at their side, they made for a tough, wiry rock & roll band -- a far cry from the primal stomp of the Stooges, but capable of kicking Iggy back into high gear. (David Bowie played piano and produced, as he had on The Idiot, but his presence is less clearly felt on this album.) As a lyricist and vocalist, Iggy Pop rose to the challenge of the material; if he was still obsessed with drugs ("Tonight"), decadence ("The Passenger"), and bad decisions ("Some Weird Sin"), the title cut suggested he could avoid a few of the temptations that crossed his path, and songs like "Success" displayed a cocky joy that confirmed Iggy was back at full strength. On Lust for Life, Iggy Pop managed to channel the aggressive power of his work with the Stooges with the intelligence and perception of The Idiot, and the result was the best of both worlds; smart, funny, edgy, and hard-rocking, Lust for Life is the best album of Iggy Pop's solo career.
On The Idiot, Iggy Pop looked deep inside himself, trying to figure out how his life and his art had gone wrong in the past. But on Lust for Life, released less than a year later, Iggy decided it was time to kick up his heels, as he traded in the mid-tempo introspection of his first album and began rocking hard again. Musically, Lust for Life is a more aggressive set than The Idiot, largely thanks to drummer Hunt Sales and his bassist brother Tony Sales. The Sales' proved they were a world class rhythm section, laying out power and spirit on the rollicking title cut, the tough groove of "Tonight," and the lean neo-punk assault of "Neighborhood Threat," and with guitarists Ricky Gardner and Carlos Alomar at their side, they made for a tough, wiry rock & roll band -- a far cry from the primal stomp of the Stooges, but capable of kicking Iggy back into high gear. (David Bowie played piano and produced, as he had on The Idiot, but his presence is less clearly felt on this album.) As a lyricist and vocalist, Iggy Pop rose to the challenge of the material; if he was still obsessed with drugs ("Tonight"), decadence ("The Passenger"), and bad decisions ("Some Weird Sin"), the title cut suggested he could avoid a few of the temptations that crossed his path, and songs like "Success" displayed a cocky joy that confirmed Iggy was back at full strength. On Lust for Life, Iggy Pop managed to channel the aggressive power of his work with the Stooges with the intelligence and perception of The Idiot, and the result was the best of both worlds; smart, funny, edgy, and hard-rocking, Lust for Life is the best album of Iggy Pop's solo career.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:17 (thirteen years ago)
Christgau loved it but the rolling stone reviewer didn't
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:18 (thirteen years ago)
175. BUDGIE Budgie (1404 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #165 for 1971 , #4678 overallhttp://fanart.tv/fanart/music/517566c5-3d43-4a81-8f78-9a78f3209e09/albumcover/budgie-5096d2fc12c3c.jpg
...a murky cross between '60s psychedelia, ugly corrupt blues, and an entirely new behemoth called heavy metal, growing in tandem with Sabbath (Sab producer Rodger Bain is on board here, doing the album essentailly live in the studio), yet one step behind Sabbath in the evolutionary chain, kinda like a slow, metallic version of Zep II winged on acid. Budgie flies fat and treble-less, dominated by a wallowing bass-driven sound, low speed chunk riffs and an urge to stretch out into hippie jams. Best tracks owuld include "Rape of the Locks" (colour me spaced, but this one reminds me of "Hole in the Sky" for some reason), and "Homicidal Suicidal" a clumsy but warm Louie-Louie-riffed hard rocker, weighted wit hcinder blocks like all else on this coagulated mass of lard. Too decrepit, eccentric, and simply unpuopular (then and now) to be considered a true cornerstone of metal, Budgie is nevertheless quite heavy, and heavy early.Shame about the pace , though. 7/8 -- M. Popoff
reviewby Alex HendersonThough not nearly as celebrated as Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Uriah Heep, or Deep Purple, Budgie was one of the finest heavy metal bands of the early to mid-'70s. The British power trio, formed in 1968, was influenced by Cream in the beginning, but by the time this self-titled debut album was released in 1971, Budgie was obviously paying close attention to Sabbath and Zep. In fact, it's hard to miss the impact that Robert Plant had on Budgie lead singer/bassist Burke Shelley. For those seriously interested in metal's development, bombastic treasures like "Homicidal Suicidal,"and "Nude Disintegrating Parachutist Woman" are essential listening.
Though not nearly as celebrated as Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Uriah Heep, or Deep Purple, Budgie was one of the finest heavy metal bands of the early to mid-'70s. The British power trio, formed in 1968, was influenced by Cream in the beginning, but by the time this self-titled debut album was released in 1971, Budgie was obviously paying close attention to Sabbath and Zep. In fact, it's hard to miss the impact that Robert Plant had on Budgie lead singer/bassist Burke Shelley. For those seriously interested in metal's development, bombastic treasures like "Homicidal Suicidal,"and "Nude Disintegrating Parachutist Woman" are essential listening.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
That's what I call an album cover
btw this is your last day to vote in this pollPOLLIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET (ILM artist poll #32 voting thread)
please go vote! I did! Even a short tracks ballot as well as full album ballot.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:31 (thirteen years ago)
btw thanks to jjj for updating the thread title!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:35 (thirteen years ago)
174. HAWKWIND Warrior on the Edge of Time (1404 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #89 for 1975 , #3414 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/436/MI0001436855.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Warrior on the Edge of Time has four tracks co-written by Moorcock, who makes a murky, overly echoed thespian debut on two of them. It also sports Brock's own rocking pseudo-mythology ("Magnu") and a quiet, thoughtful tune ("The Demented Man"), as well as "Kings of Speed," released as a single. The latter's B-side was "Motorhead"; Lemmy took that name for the band he formed after being sacked from Hawkwind following a 1974 on-tour Canadian drug bust. (Although it ceased to exist in reality, the Lemmy lineup resurfaced in fiction as the protagonists ? dubbed the Hawklords, led by "Baron Brock" ? in a trilogy of books by Moorcock and Michael Butterworth.) ? Trouser PressThis album was Hawkwind?s most polished at the time, and one that would signal the abrupt end of the group?s tenure on UA, which was a pity. But this sixth and final album (discounting the contract-fulfilling, cross-faded ?Roadhawks? compilation) was where Hawkwind?s initial burst of space-metal punk blur-outs joined at the hips with druggie busking would be in full force for the final time as pan-galactic mystery tunes are interspersed between nocturnal instrumental bridges. Lead guitarist Dave Brock was on a total songwriting high as ?Warrior? held three of his stupendous psychedelic traumas in the shape of both sides? respective openers: ?Assault And Battery?/?Golden Void? on side one and ?Magnu? on side two.Hawkwind?s personnel lineup had always differed wildly from album to album, and ?Warrior On The Edge Of Time? was no exception. ?Speculative fiction? author Michael Moorcock was brought in to fulfill a less-crazier Robert Calvert spoken word role, and was an excellent choice as it was he who previously collaborated with the band with his written piece ?Sonic Attack.? A second drummer, ex-Chicken Shack skinsman Alan Powell was added on drums alongside Simon King, while keyboardist Simon House had already been integrating more keyboards (and occasional treated violin runs) than ever before into Hawkwind for the past year, evolving their sound into one verging on precision. And an equally precise Lemmy Thunderbird bass line opens ?Assault And Battery? over mellotron washes followed up by the double drumming kick in and the ever-changeless, over amplified Dave Brock power strum as his vocals proceed to rip off Longfellow with the nonetheless great line ?Lives of great men are reminders/We may make our lives sublime?? over Nik Turner?s weaving flute melodies. But the whole thing is a gigantic WALL of sound that pushes further and further on into time, only breaking for the chorus where it remain a wall, but only a slightly higher one for Brock?s just lurched into another chord. It runs immediately into the Bardo-weaving ?The Golden Void? as the mellotron curtain is parted with what initially sounds for all the world a piercing mid-seventies Moog oscillation when in fact it is Simon House?s screeching violin through multiple phase and delay units. The churning musical mess has still lingered from ?Assault And Battery? but slowed down into a trudging out-of-bodiness as Brock intones a reappearing ?corridor of flame? as all backing instrumentation melts into the background with super-slowed tempo that is steady and altogether tripped out. Then the great build towards the finish with even more unleashed Brock power-strums through the biggest psychedelic amp he still owned and Nik Turner enters the fray in the coda with a ?feel? solo on sax that absolutely surpasses his own complete lack of expertise with a beautifully-parped passage evocative of the journey to come: which does soon enough with the first of three spoken links.?The Wizard Blew His Horn? is all echoed vocals with synthesizer and drums resigned to essentially what amounts to haunted house effects in the background. The phased and bashed cymbals carry over his cries for ?a champion? CHAMPION? CHAMPION?? crossfading just before Hammer Horror time into ?Opa Loka? -- an instrumental whose title is taken, perplexingly enough, from a town in Florida (albeit misspelled) and not some mythical planet that ties in with the vague Moorcock conceptual story line. But something else it most definitely is, is a totally NEU!-driven instrumental with linear pacing and a feel like a more spaced-out and organic relation of ?E-Musik.? And it continues with all the directness of NEU! as a veritable gallery of synthesizer soundscapes pass overhead. ?The Demented Man? ends side one, a lugubrious Brock acoustic and drum-less ballad as seagulls wheel and cry and mellotrons reinforce the whole ?We Took The Wrong Step Years Ago? 12-string styled rumination.Brock?s other side is reflected in side two?s kick off, ?Magnu.? Rain and wind beat against the Hawklords as that Brock riff from not only side one but EVERY previous Hawkwind album continues on over a lesser-NEU! groove that opens up a path for synthesizer and then violin outlays with a loosely squonked sax rhythm. But the tracks begins to spiral slowly out of control and into a tornado funnel as the brutal repetition trance out of the groove continues for so long that the vocals begin to draw into a black hole of backwards echo, turning the chorus into a into a mesmerising trance that gently begins to bend pitch, speed and shape the further the track proceeds forward. The chorus is great: although it?s completely indecipherable even before its metamorphosis into the phased, phased guitar overdubs and unrelenting skittering, echoed violin vamping through far too many effects extends into the next dimension. The crossfading continues into the Nik Turner echoed-vox a lot intonation of ?Standing At The Edge,? which goes into the Simon House instrumental ?Spiral Galaxy 28948? (the numeral date being House?s birthday) like a Moog passage meeting the Allman Brothers in a cosmic roller-rink. This then blurs out to ?Warriors,? the last spoken piece heavy on dramatic tympani and distorted vocals pronouncements from Moorcock. ?Dying Seas? is an equilibrium-threatening track that opens with Lemmy?s solo sludge-funking bass that pound through Nik Turner?s phased, echoed vocals as the two drummers crash out a beat too simple for one drummer, but it only adds to the disorientation of it all. And Turner proceeds to throw another free-sax freak out at the fade. ?Kings Of Speed? hurries up the end of the album with opening bass/drums/guitar walloping and a totally uncalled for synthesizer WHOOOOOOSH that signals a return to their previous quick-paced songs, this time with near-Johnny Thundering plectrum exercises and Simon House hoedowning for all it?s worth in the middle bridge. Brock?s vocals return, now echoing backwards. It?s a mindless street anthem/football chant mess and an all-too-well-earned self-coronation of amphetamine abuse.Sadly, this selfsame substance would lead to a Canadian bust that saw Lemmy sacked and Hawkwind immediately reduced to sub-cosmic debris. Try as one may, the following two albums for Charisma -- even with the inclusion of Paul Rudolph on able-bodied bass -- pale greatly besides their six years of recording for United Artists. But beyond this?Four words: ?Proceed with extreme caution.? -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
This album was Hawkwind?s most polished at the time, and one that would signal the abrupt end of the group?s tenure on UA, which was a pity. But this sixth and final album (discounting the contract-fulfilling, cross-faded ?Roadhawks? compilation) was where Hawkwind?s initial burst of space-metal punk blur-outs joined at the hips with druggie busking would be in full force for the final time as pan-galactic mystery tunes are interspersed between nocturnal instrumental bridges. Lead guitarist Dave Brock was on a total songwriting high as ?Warrior? held three of his stupendous psychedelic traumas in the shape of both sides? respective openers: ?Assault And Battery?/?Golden Void? on side one and ?Magnu? on side two.
Hawkwind?s personnel lineup had always differed wildly from album to album, and ?Warrior On The Edge Of Time? was no exception. ?Speculative fiction? author Michael Moorcock was brought in to fulfill a less-crazier Robert Calvert spoken word role, and was an excellent choice as it was he who previously collaborated with the band with his written piece ?Sonic Attack.? A second drummer, ex-Chicken Shack skinsman Alan Powell was added on drums alongside Simon King, while keyboardist Simon House had already been integrating more keyboards (and occasional treated violin runs) than ever before into Hawkwind for the past year, evolving their sound into one verging on precision. And an equally precise Lemmy Thunderbird bass line opens ?Assault And Battery? over mellotron washes followed up by the double drumming kick in and the ever-changeless, over amplified Dave Brock power strum as his vocals proceed to rip off Longfellow with the nonetheless great line ?Lives of great men are reminders/We may make our lives sublime?? over Nik Turner?s weaving flute melodies. But the whole thing is a gigantic WALL of sound that pushes further and further on into time, only breaking for the chorus where it remain a wall, but only a slightly higher one for Brock?s just lurched into another chord. It runs immediately into the Bardo-weaving ?The Golden Void? as the mellotron curtain is parted with what initially sounds for all the world a piercing mid-seventies Moog oscillation when in fact it is Simon House?s screeching violin through multiple phase and delay units. The churning musical mess has still lingered from ?Assault And Battery? but slowed down into a trudging out-of-bodiness as Brock intones a reappearing ?corridor of flame? as all backing instrumentation melts into the background with super-slowed tempo that is steady and altogether tripped out. Then the great build towards the finish with even more unleashed Brock power-strums through the biggest psychedelic amp he still owned and Nik Turner enters the fray in the coda with a ?feel? solo on sax that absolutely surpasses his own complete lack of expertise with a beautifully-parped passage evocative of the journey to come: which does soon enough with the first of three spoken links.
?The Wizard Blew His Horn? is all echoed vocals with synthesizer and drums resigned to essentially what amounts to haunted house effects in the background. The phased and bashed cymbals carry over his cries for ?a champion? CHAMPION? CHAMPION?? crossfading just before Hammer Horror time into ?Opa Loka? -- an instrumental whose title is taken, perplexingly enough, from a town in Florida (albeit misspelled) and not some mythical planet that ties in with the vague Moorcock conceptual story line. But something else it most definitely is, is a totally NEU!-driven instrumental with linear pacing and a feel like a more spaced-out and organic relation of ?E-Musik.? And it continues with all the directness of NEU! as a veritable gallery of synthesizer soundscapes pass overhead. ?The Demented Man? ends side one, a lugubrious Brock acoustic and drum-less ballad as seagulls wheel and cry and mellotrons reinforce the whole ?We Took The Wrong Step Years Ago? 12-string styled rumination.
Brock?s other side is reflected in side two?s kick off, ?Magnu.? Rain and wind beat against the Hawklords as that Brock riff from not only side one but EVERY previous Hawkwind album continues on over a lesser-NEU! groove that opens up a path for synthesizer and then violin outlays with a loosely squonked sax rhythm. But the tracks begins to spiral slowly out of control and into a tornado funnel as the brutal repetition trance out of the groove continues for so long that the vocals begin to draw into a black hole of backwards echo, turning the chorus into a into a mesmerising trance that gently begins to bend pitch, speed and shape the further the track proceeds forward. The chorus is great: although it?s completely indecipherable even before its metamorphosis into the phased, phased guitar overdubs and unrelenting skittering, echoed violin vamping through far too many effects extends into the next dimension. The crossfading continues into the Nik Turner echoed-vox a lot intonation of ?Standing At The Edge,? which goes into the Simon House instrumental ?Spiral Galaxy 28948? (the numeral date being House?s birthday) like a Moog passage meeting the Allman Brothers in a cosmic roller-rink. This then blurs out to ?Warriors,? the last spoken piece heavy on dramatic tympani and distorted vocals pronouncements from Moorcock. ?Dying Seas? is an equilibrium-threatening track that opens with Lemmy?s solo sludge-funking bass that pound through Nik Turner?s phased, echoed vocals as the two drummers crash out a beat too simple for one drummer, but it only adds to the disorientation of it all. And Turner proceeds to throw another free-sax freak out at the fade. ?Kings Of Speed? hurries up the end of the album with opening bass/drums/guitar walloping and a totally uncalled for synthesizer WHOOOOOOSH that signals a return to their previous quick-paced songs, this time with near-Johnny Thundering plectrum exercises and Simon House hoedowning for all it?s worth in the middle bridge. Brock?s vocals return, now echoing backwards. It?s a mindless street anthem/football chant mess and an all-too-well-earned self-coronation of amphetamine abuse.
Sadly, this selfsame substance would lead to a Canadian bust that saw Lemmy sacked and Hawkwind immediately reduced to sub-cosmic debris. Try as one may, the following two albums for Charisma -- even with the inclusion of Paul Rudolph on able-bodied bass -- pale greatly besides their six years of recording for United Artists. But beyond this?
Four words: ?Proceed with extreme caution.? -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
review[-] by Dave ThompsonHawkwind's fifth studio album found the band enjoying a rare oasis of stability after the multitudinous personnel shifts of the past five years. Only the recruitment of a second drummer, Alan Powell, disturbed the equanimity of the lineup that created the previous year's Hall of the Mountain Grill, although it would soon be time to change again. By the end of the year, bassist Lemmy had departed, vocalist Robert Calvert had rejoined, and the group's career-long relationship with United Artists would be over. In the meantime, Warrior on the Edge of Time ensured that it was brainstorming business as usual. Decorated with a magnificent sleeve that unfolded into the shape of a shield, Warrior on the Edge of Time delivered some of Hawkwind's best-loved future showstoppers -- Simon House's far-reaching "Spiral Galaxy 28948," the frenetic "Assault and Battery," and the monstrous "Magnu" all made their bow here, while the accompanying "Kings of Speed" single was certainly a big hit in the youth clubs of the day, even if it did steadfastly avoid the chart. Remarkable, too, is "The Golden Void," a stately bolero set, indeed, on the edge of time and buffeted by one of the band's most impressive ever instrumental performances. A handful of tracks do betray their age. Michael Moorcock's echo- and effects-laden recitation of "The Wizard Blew His Horn" is impossibly overwrought, although it's worth sitting through simply for the segue into the throbbing "Opa-Loka"; in fact, the entire album is presented with minimal breaks between tracks, to deliver a seamless treat that -- in the light of Hawkwind's next musical moves -- has since seen Warrior on the Edge of Time described as the band's last true "classic." It isn't, but you can easily see why people think it might be. [The CD reissue includes one bonus track, Lemmy's valedictory "Motorhead," recorded during the album sessions but released only as the B-side to "Kings of Speed."]
Hawkwind's fifth studio album found the band enjoying a rare oasis of stability after the multitudinous personnel shifts of the past five years. Only the recruitment of a second drummer, Alan Powell, disturbed the equanimity of the lineup that created the previous year's Hall of the Mountain Grill, although it would soon be time to change again. By the end of the year, bassist Lemmy had departed, vocalist Robert Calvert had rejoined, and the group's career-long relationship with United Artists would be over. In the meantime, Warrior on the Edge of Time ensured that it was brainstorming business as usual. Decorated with a magnificent sleeve that unfolded into the shape of a shield, Warrior on the Edge of Time delivered some of Hawkwind's best-loved future showstoppers -- Simon House's far-reaching "Spiral Galaxy 28948," the frenetic "Assault and Battery," and the monstrous "Magnu" all made their bow here, while the accompanying "Kings of Speed" single was certainly a big hit in the youth clubs of the day, even if it did steadfastly avoid the chart. Remarkable, too, is "The Golden Void," a stately bolero set, indeed, on the edge of time and buffeted by one of the band's most impressive ever instrumental performances. A handful of tracks do betray their age. Michael Moorcock's echo- and effects-laden recitation of "The Wizard Blew His Horn" is impossibly overwrought, although it's worth sitting through simply for the segue into the throbbing "Opa-Loka"; in fact, the entire album is presented with minimal breaks between tracks, to deliver a seamless treat that -- in the light of Hawkwind's next musical moves -- has since seen Warrior on the Edge of Time described as the band's last true "classic." It isn't, but you can easily see why people think it might be. [The CD reissue includes one bonus track, Lemmy's valedictory "Motorhead," recorded during the album sessions but released only as the B-side to "Kings of Speed."]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
Warrior!
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Friday, 22 March 2013 17:48 (thirteen years ago)
Sadly not on Spotify UK
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 17:49 (thirteen years ago)
Not heard that one, but have oogled the fold-out cover a few times
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 17:52 (thirteen years ago)
That's a great Hawkwind album. One of my favorites and that cover is killer as well.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Friday, 22 March 2013 17:53 (thirteen years ago)
Oh that's such a classic album cover!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Friday, 22 March 2013 17:54 (thirteen years ago)
and a pretty good album!
173. BETTY DAVIS Betty Davis (1405 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #85 for 1973 , #2320 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/660/MI0000660675.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/482qjezhAJ5JrOo8NQrf9Fspotify:album:482qjezhAJ5JrOo8NQrf9F
Between her connections (wife of Miles, girlfriend of Jimi) and her concept (autonomous black woman forges metal funk), Betty's got a head start in the hype department. She makes up for these advantages, however, with a forced, narrow voice and a complete absence of riff sense or melodic gift. On the other hand, she--or producer-drummer Greg Errico of the Family Stone--does know a lot about rhythm. Upshot: most overstated comic-book sex since Angelfood McSpade. B- -- R. ChristgauIn past efforts to collect 70s soul and funk, I?ve come across a couple compilations with contributions from Betty Davis like ?He Was A Big Freak? and ?Anti Love Song.? I always made a note to look into her, but her albums were out of print at the time. An article in the February 2005 MOJO reminded me to track her stuff down, and I found her albums at Dusty Groove.I should have tried harder before, because I was really missing out. I just assumed Davis was just a minor figure, certainly no better than the sometimes lascivious, sometimes feminist funk of Laura Lee, Millie Jackson, or James Brown acolytes Vicki Anderson, Lyn Collins and Marva Whitney. But Betty Mabry Davis is in a class of her own. Her coolness transcends them all. When she met Miles Davis at the age of 22, she?d already cut a couple singles, worked as a model, club promoter (Step-Down Cellar on 90th Street), and written a song for The Chambers Brothers (?Uptown To Harlem? for their landmark 1967 album, Time Has Come Today). During her relationship and marriage to Miles Davis from ?67 to ?69, she introduced him to Jimi Hendrix (Miles was paranoid that she was sleeping with him ? perhaps she did but like a true pimp she'll deny it to her grave), Sly Stone, and made a huge impact on his fashion sense, not to mention appearing on the cover of Filles De Kilimanjaro, which featured a tribute to her in ?Mademoiselle Mabry.? While Miles was working on Bitches Brew, Davis cut an album with a dream-team band consisting of Wayne Shorter and Tony Williams from Miles? band with Miles producing, and Billy Cox and Mitch Mitchell. Afraid of Betty?s success, Miles insisted the album be shelved. Now that the misogynist motherfucker is stone cold dead, it?s high time this album is exhumed from the vaults and released.Betty?s career didn?t really start until she divorced Miles, and her good friend Jimi was dead. In 1970 she recorded eight songs with the Commodores which were shelved, and moved to the UK in 1971. Marc Bolan (T. Rex) helped her out in seeking a recording contract, but she returned to the U.S. and hooked up with Michael Carabello of Santana in San Francisco. Assembling members of Santana (including future Journey member Neil Schon!), Sly & the Family Stone and Tower of Power, Davis recorded a monster of an album for the Just Sunshine label, and introduced the world to her alter ego that?s part ass-kicking Cleopatra Jones, and part wise-cracking pottymouth influenced by Frank Zappa?s Mothers of Invention. She turned the tables on jive-talking pimp characters with lyrics like, ?If I?m in luck I might get picked up ? I?m fishin? and I?m trickin? and you can call it what you want.? And in ?Anti Love Song? she sings, ?You know, I could make you crawl/And just as hard as I?d fall for you/You know you?d fall for me harder.? More often her voice would jump between shrieks and feral growls that are truly frightening. The band played hard and tight, on an album that would rival anything by Funkadelic. -- Fastnbulbous
In past efforts to collect 70s soul and funk, I?ve come across a couple compilations with contributions from Betty Davis like ?He Was A Big Freak? and ?Anti Love Song.? I always made a note to look into her, but her albums were out of print at the time. An article in the February 2005 MOJO reminded me to track her stuff down, and I found her albums at Dusty Groove.
I should have tried harder before, because I was really missing out. I just assumed Davis was just a minor figure, certainly no better than the sometimes lascivious, sometimes feminist funk of Laura Lee, Millie Jackson, or James Brown acolytes Vicki Anderson, Lyn Collins and Marva Whitney. But Betty Mabry Davis is in a class of her own. Her coolness transcends them all. When she met Miles Davis at the age of 22, she?d already cut a couple singles, worked as a model, club promoter (Step-Down Cellar on 90th Street), and written a song for The Chambers Brothers (?Uptown To Harlem? for their landmark 1967 album, Time Has Come Today). During her relationship and marriage to Miles Davis from ?67 to ?69, she introduced him to Jimi Hendrix (Miles was paranoid that she was sleeping with him ? perhaps she did but like a true pimp she'll deny it to her grave), Sly Stone, and made a huge impact on his fashion sense, not to mention appearing on the cover of Filles De Kilimanjaro, which featured a tribute to her in ?Mademoiselle Mabry.? While Miles was working on Bitches Brew, Davis cut an album with a dream-team band consisting of Wayne Shorter and Tony Williams from Miles? band with Miles producing, and Billy Cox and Mitch Mitchell. Afraid of Betty?s success, Miles insisted the album be shelved. Now that the misogynist motherfucker is stone cold dead, it?s high time this album is exhumed from the vaults and released.
Betty?s career didn?t really start until she divorced Miles, and her good friend Jimi was dead. In 1970 she recorded eight songs with the Commodores which were shelved, and moved to the UK in 1971. Marc Bolan (T. Rex) helped her out in seeking a recording contract, but she returned to the U.S. and hooked up with Michael Carabello of Santana in San Francisco. Assembling members of Santana (including future Journey member Neil Schon!), Sly & the Family Stone and Tower of Power, Davis recorded a monster of an album for the Just Sunshine label, and introduced the world to her alter ego that?s part ass-kicking Cleopatra Jones, and part wise-cracking pottymouth influenced by Frank Zappa?s Mothers of Invention. She turned the tables on jive-talking pimp characters with lyrics like, ?If I?m in luck I might get picked up ? I?m fishin? and I?m trickin? and you can call it what you want.? And in ?Anti Love Song? she sings, ?You know, I could make you crawl/And just as hard as I?d fall for you/You know you?d fall for me harder.? More often her voice would jump between shrieks and feral growls that are truly frightening. The band played hard and tight, on an album that would rival anything by Funkadelic. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by John BushBetty Davis' debut was an outstanding funk record, driven by her aggressive, no-nonsense songs and a set of howling performances from a crack band. Listeners wouldn't know it from the song's title, but for the opener, "If I'm in Luck I Might Get Picked Up," Davis certainly doesn't play the wallflower; she's a woman on the prowl, positively luring the men in and, best of all, explaining exactly how she does it: "I said I'm wigglin' my fanny, I'm raunchy dancing, I'm-a-doing it doing it/This is my night out." "Game Is My Middle Name" begins at a midtempo lope, but really breaks through on the chorus, with the Pointer Sisters and Sylvester backing up each of her assertions. As overwhelming as Davis' performances are, it's as much the backing group as Davis herself that makes her material so powerful (and believable). Reams of underground cred allowed her to recruit one of the tightest rhythm sections ever heard on record (bassist Larry Graham and drummer Greg Errico, both veterans of Sly & the Family Stone), plus fellow San Francisco luminaries like master keyboardist Merl Saunders and guitarists Neal Schon or Douglas Rodriguez (both associated with Santana at the time). Graham's popping bass and the raw, flamboyant, hooky guitar lines of Schon or Rodriguez make the perfect accompaniment to these songs; Graham's slinky bass is the instrumental equivalent of Davis' vocal gymnastics, and Rodriguez makes his guitar scream during "Your Man My Man." It's hard to tell whether the musicians are pushing so hard because of Davis' performances or if they're egging each other on, but it's an unnecessary question. Everything about Betty Davis' self-titled debut album speaks to Davis the lean-and-mean sexual predator, from songs to performance to backing, and so much the better for it. All of which should've been expected from the woman who was too wild for Miles Davis.
Betty Davis' debut was an outstanding funk record, driven by her aggressive, no-nonsense songs and a set of howling performances from a crack band. Listeners wouldn't know it from the song's title, but for the opener, "If I'm in Luck I Might Get Picked Up," Davis certainly doesn't play the wallflower; she's a woman on the prowl, positively luring the men in and, best of all, explaining exactly how she does it: "I said I'm wigglin' my fanny, I'm raunchy dancing, I'm-a-doing it doing it/This is my night out." "Game Is My Middle Name" begins at a midtempo lope, but really breaks through on the chorus, with the Pointer Sisters and Sylvester backing up each of her assertions. As overwhelming as Davis' performances are, it's as much the backing group as Davis herself that makes her material so powerful (and believable). Reams of underground cred allowed her to recruit one of the tightest rhythm sections ever heard on record (bassist Larry Graham and drummer Greg Errico, both veterans of Sly & the Family Stone), plus fellow San Francisco luminaries like master keyboardist Merl Saunders and guitarists Neal Schon or Douglas Rodriguez (both associated with Santana at the time). Graham's popping bass and the raw, flamboyant, hooky guitar lines of Schon or Rodriguez make the perfect accompaniment to these songs; Graham's slinky bass is the instrumental equivalent of Davis' vocal gymnastics, and Rodriguez makes his guitar scream during "Your Man My Man." It's hard to tell whether the musicians are pushing so hard because of Davis' performances or if they're egging each other on, but it's an unnecessary question. Everything about Betty Davis' self-titled debut album speaks to Davis the lean-and-mean sexual predator, from songs to performance to backing, and so much the better for it. All of which should've been expected from the woman who was too wild for Miles Davis.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:00 (thirteen years ago)
<3 Betty Davis
― emil.y, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:01 (thirteen years ago)
Wow, today's run is incredible.
― Non-Stop Erotic Calculus (bmus), Friday, 22 March 2013 18:02 (thirteen years ago)
Between her connections (wife of Miles, girlfriend of Jimi) and her concept (autonomous black woman forges metal funk), Betty's got a head start in the hype department. She makes up for these advantages, however, with a forced, narrow voice and a complete absence of riff sense or melodic gift. On the other hand, she--or producer-drummer Greg Errico of the Family Stone--does know a lot about rhythm. Upshot: most overstated comic-book sex since Angelfood McSpade. B- -- R. Christgau
Angelfood McSpade?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:06 (thirteen years ago)
Crumb character, I think.
― emil.y, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:08 (thirteen years ago)
Lust for Life was #64 on Pitchfork's list. I think the RS reviewer was a fan who hoped Iggy could match his work with the Stooges. Maybe it's easier in retrospect, in the context of the subsequent decline of his solo work, and even the last Stooges album, to see that Lust For Life shines as another peak for him. Wonder what the new Stooges album will be like.
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:10 (thirteen years ago)
172. GERMS (GI) (1406 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #78 for 1979 , #3956 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/107/MI0002107309.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1dwzhoYlTd5ZgPygszllwospotify:album:1dwzhoYlTd5ZgPygszllwo
(GI) ? "Germs Incognito" ? is a revelation, a kinetic outburst of brute punk force. Two years of tightening and a new drummer (Don Bolles, later of 45 Grave) turned the Germs into a manic punk locomotive, speeding along with Damned intensity in spite of tinny production by Joan Jett. Aside from the overlong live "Shut Down," the songs go by in a breathless rush, fueled by Pat Smear's staccato fuzz guitar and Crash's sometimes confused but often potent punk protest imagery. A key album in the development of American hardcore. ? Trouser PressAlongside X's Los Angeles (1980), also on the Slash label and similarly deploying a celebrity producer (The Doors' Ray Manzarek to Joan Jett here) this is untouchable US Punk rock. Eschewing the blues and boogie rock touches which characterise much US punk, in its super-tight pure rock abstraction the disc really seems as minimal and blank as its beautiful blue circle cover. -- Woebot
Alongside X's Los Angeles (1980), also on the Slash label and similarly deploying a celebrity producer (The Doors' Ray Manzarek to Joan Jett here) this is untouchable US Punk rock. Eschewing the blues and boogie rock touches which characterise much US punk, in its super-tight pure rock abstraction the disc really seems as minimal and blank as its beautiful blue circle cover. -- Woebot
review[-] by Ned RaggettA blast of self-lacerating L.A. punk in its original glory, (GI) is simply classic; a commanding, rampaging sneer at everyone and everything infused with a particular, disturbed vision. Said vision belongs to Darby Crash, whose proclivities for charismatic manipulation were already well established before he fully spelled them out in lyrics like "Lexicon Devil," here featuring in a re-recording, and "Richie Dagger's Crime." His David Bowie worship was also paramount -- "Land of Treason," "Communist Eyes," and "Strange Notes" are just three numbers featuring his transformation of the apocalyptic aesthetics of albums like Diamond Dogs and Station to Station toward more brutal ends. Practically speaking, his snarling star quality comes through more than his words, but it's more than enough on that front. Pat Smear has an equal claim to being the album's star, though, and for good reason -- not only did he co-write everything, his clipped, catchy monster riffing was as pure punk in the late-'70s sense as anything, wasting no time on anything extraneous. Lorna Doom and Don Bolles keep up the side as a kickass rhythm section, Bolles in particular making a good mark in the first of his many drumming stints over the moons. Joan Jett's production got knocked at the time for perceived thinness, but she and engineer Pat Burnette actually did a great job at recording the band with crisp, strong results. The notorious closing number, "Shut Down (Annihilation Man)," makes for a nicely balanced contrast to the 42-second opener, "What We Do Is Secret." While the latter song is pure hyperspeed, Crash sounding like he's about to run out of breath on the shout-along chorus, "Shut Down (Annihilation Man)," recorded at a club gig, shows how the Germs could (quite intentionally) tick off an audience via long, meandering numbers if they so chose.
A blast of self-lacerating L.A. punk in its original glory, (GI) is simply classic; a commanding, rampaging sneer at everyone and everything infused with a particular, disturbed vision. Said vision belongs to Darby Crash, whose proclivities for charismatic manipulation were already well established before he fully spelled them out in lyrics like "Lexicon Devil," here featuring in a re-recording, and "Richie Dagger's Crime." His David Bowie worship was also paramount -- "Land of Treason," "Communist Eyes," and "Strange Notes" are just three numbers featuring his transformation of the apocalyptic aesthetics of albums like Diamond Dogs and Station to Station toward more brutal ends. Practically speaking, his snarling star quality comes through more than his words, but it's more than enough on that front. Pat Smear has an equal claim to being the album's star, though, and for good reason -- not only did he co-write everything, his clipped, catchy monster riffing was as pure punk in the late-'70s sense as anything, wasting no time on anything extraneous. Lorna Doom and Don Bolles keep up the side as a kickass rhythm section, Bolles in particular making a good mark in the first of his many drumming stints over the moons. Joan Jett's production got knocked at the time for perceived thinness, but she and engineer Pat Burnette actually did a great job at recording the band with crisp, strong results. The notorious closing number, "Shut Down (Annihilation Man)," makes for a nicely balanced contrast to the 42-second opener, "What We Do Is Secret." While the latter song is pure hyperspeed, Crash sounding like he's about to run out of breath on the shout-along chorus, "Shut Down (Annihilation Man)," recorded at a club gig, shows how the Germs could (quite intentionally) tick off an audience via long, meandering numbers if they so chose.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
warrior.... top 3 of hawkwind's albums for me. i'm glad peter hamilll made it & betty davis. i had always skipped that budgie album for some reason so must revise that soon.
― stirmonster, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:19 (thirteen years ago)
stirmonster you're gonna be skint! btw pop into Record Fayre when you get back (you know the shop up towards the tron theatre?) you can get all the 70s and 80s rock ,punk and prog 2nd hand vinyl you want there for good prices.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:22 (thirteen years ago)
171. HAWKWIND In Search of Space (1423 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #98 for 1971 , #2488 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/906/MI0001906941.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2yePpYHBbZLvPYD4MnaXxIspotify:album:2yePpYHBbZLvPYD4MnaXxI
Despite its intricate, attractive unfolding sleeve (designed by the late Barney Bubbles), In Search of Space is pretty lukewarm; the sole song of canonical note here is "Master of the Universe." Most important, though, the aforementioned musical elements, along with a more explicit science-fiction orientation, can now be heard as a stylistic blend, integrating Turner, electronics gremlin Dik Mik and newly added synthesizer player Del Dettmar. Some of the electro-noise/saxoid drone bears a strange resemblance to subsequent mid-song blasts by early Roxy Music, whose own electronics specialist Eno had resided, like Dik Mik, in London's funky Ladbroke Grove. – Trouser PressThe springtime of 1971 was already a confusing time in Hawkwind’s history, exacerbated by the first of many major personnel shakeups that would become as much a trademark of the band about as much as their consumption of illicit euphoriates and their organic, primitive space rock freak outs. At this time both bassist Thomas Crimble and audio generator operator Dikmik left the group (with the latter rejoining several months later) replaced by ex-Amon Düül 2 bassist Dave Anderson and sound mixer Del Dettmar filling in on electronics. One further pair had also attached themselves to the band when dancer Stacia (whose unscheduled appearance onstage with them at Glastonbury Fayre in June) and writer Robert Calvert (who began to make impromptu live appearances on vocals as well as contributing lyrics) were absorbed into the band alongside core members Dave Brock (guitar, vocals), Nik Turner (vocals, woodwinds) and Terry Ollis (drums). Completing the six man team of musicnauts whose sole offering together would be just this one album, “X In Search Of Space” it was freakiness itself. So freaky, that the concept behind it was that playing the record would free the group from a dimensional compression within the album itself, for as the following entry in the accompanying ‘Hawklog’ attested: “1027 hrs. 5 May 1971. Ladbroke Grove. Space/time supply indicators near to zero. Our thoughts are losing depth; soon they will fold into each other, into flatness, into nothing but surface. Our ship will fold like a cardboard file and the noises of our mind compress into a disc of shining black, spinning in eternity...”And graphic designer Barney Bubbles’ killer sleeve design allowed for such release when played with a tri-directional fold out sleeve and intricate die-cut cover to approximate the shape of a space hawk spreading its wings to the four corners of chaos, eternity, infinity and The Void (the very places Hawkwind’s music described and expanded into) illustrated with inlaid photographs from one of their many free concerts under the Westway overpass in their native community of Ladbroke Grove. Also included within the album was a free, 24-page ‘Hawklog’ written by Robert Calvert and filled with information relating to scientific data, occult references, astrological tables, cartoons, and a travel log whose entries followed non-chronological progressions in time. And it was a perfect reflection of Hawkwind itself: a distilled collage of sci-fi scenarios, hippy values, psychedelic awareness, gnostic explorations and visions of time, space, thought and body into a D.I.Y. Spaceship Earth ethos.A collection of huge, metronomic epics and wistful, lysergically-tinged ballads with electronics pushed to the fore as everything funneled through a battery of echo, reverb and phasing, “X In Search Of Space” showed how hard Hawkwind had willed themselves forward in terms of both arrangement and performance, creating a collection of material that for all its hard-won confidence was still as roughhewn as ever. Indeed, the sound of the album reflects the decision of several members’ requests that their own tracks be turned down, resulting in a weirdly hollow, highly imbalanced and inadvertent space rock dub mix years ahead of its time. Side one has only two tracks, but they sound and feel like one single massive and barely structured jam that builds, fades, collapses, re-builds and re-fades all over itself with drastic, chaotic ease. The first track, “You Shouldn’t Do That” takes about four minutes to finally achieve lift-off into a roaring, brittle flight that threatens to never, never land. The boomeranging jamming always returns back and when the two chants start up with barely ‘sung’ double-tracked lyrics, everything but the roaming and always unexpected VCS3 trajectories of Del Dettmar are crowded to the back of the mix. Other instruments will assemble, fall away altogether or gain in prominence but at all times the constant un-folding-ness is upheld. Nik’s interstellar message relay sax transmits over the lightly-produced drums which thud out hollow pagan fills until a quietly shuddering VCS3 line wobbles as wah-wah’ed guitar and electronic gulls wheel and climb above the crashing waves of Breath-Land. This pre-ambient freakscape ushers in “You Know You’re Only Dreaming (Visions Of Beyond Recall)” with hurried clusters of Brock’s psy-wah-wah/distortion riffing. The feel of the background vocals are soothing comfort itself -- the very ones which 10cc’s later “I’m Not In Love” utilised for full windy autumn night while the rain spatters lightly against your bedroom window effect. Flutes echo trippily all around Anderson’s distinctly Amon Düül 2-ish bass architecture until Turner switches to sax to rejoin the fray until it slowly blacks out into electronic breathing and a neat, filigree guitar passage. Anderson’s bass continues into the locked inner groove of breath that ends side or leaves it spinning into eternity, depending on the turntable or your state of mind. (Unfortunately, the version on CD just fades out which makes no difference EXCEPT that it is not how it was intended or first experienced when it was released in 1971. And another thing: why does the sleeve clearly exhibit the true title of the album -- rendered within QUOTES, no less -- as “X In Search Of Space” although on the spine and label of the original album it is without the “X”, as Hawkwind’s graphic cartographer Barney Bubbles had so lovingly intended? I believe it was a typographic error, but perhaps Nik Turner’s 1978 solo album, “Xinittoday” for which Bubbles also created the sleeve was so named to compensate for the mysterious “X” omission.)“Master Of The Universe” starts up the second side with a high-pitched electronic signal rising upward and taxiing off the ensuing Dave Anderson bass line, splintery guitar rhythm and a background reverbed and distorted riff that burns unabated throughout the track’s psychic rollercoastering. Turner releases a gloriously stoned and backward-echoed vocal and the harsh background guitar grind of Brock recedes and returns with each and every wax and wane of the ever-fanning wave of propulsive rhythms. Phasing appears and covers everything like a glowing layer of treacle but for all the honeyed mind-melt, even that sticky mess cannot keep it off its unswerving path. “Master of The Universe” was the beginning of a far harder direction of Krautrocking metronome-drone that Hawkwind would pursue further over the next four years, and it would grow into a monstrously heavy track over the coming months, as well as becoming one of their best known album tracks, ever. A final, phased explosion crossfades with the shimmering acoustic 12-string guitar that sets sail into “We Took The Wrong Step Years Ago” and it would be the most soothing of lullabies were it not for its many unquiet warnings. This is followed by the unsteady and freaked-out “Adjust Me”: Freaky electronic oscillations, saxophonic wah-wah-ing and mere cymbal taps all float by in a set up for disconcerting and cryptic instructions, intoned from the lowest of all evil robotics into tripping chipmunks as it speeds up into the nearest black hole and stretches into infinity. The instrumental section enters cautiously, as though sniffing around to make sure the vanished narrator will not return and commences carefully with a brief freak-out borrowed from “Phallus Dei” (which Amon Düül 2 themselves borrowed from Jefferson Airplane’s “Spare Chaynge”) as additional wafting of ghostly electronic oscillations pass overhead until then the instrumental is next up to be unmercifully swept up in speed and into a shattering, electronic stutter right up against the wall of The Void and cross-cut into the downered acoustic “Children Of The Sun,” which draws the album to a numbed, stupefied close.Dave Anderson departed Hawkwind soon afterwards, along with drummer Terry Ollis and Hawkwind’s chemistry would alter once again. But never again would it be quite as imbalanced between vibe, capability and sound production as “X In Search Of Space.” -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
The springtime of 1971 was already a confusing time in Hawkwind’s history, exacerbated by the first of many major personnel shakeups that would become as much a trademark of the band about as much as their consumption of illicit euphoriates and their organic, primitive space rock freak outs. At this time both bassist Thomas Crimble and audio generator operator Dikmik left the group (with the latter rejoining several months later) replaced by ex-Amon Düül 2 bassist Dave Anderson and sound mixer Del Dettmar filling in on electronics. One further pair had also attached themselves to the band when dancer Stacia (whose unscheduled appearance onstage with them at Glastonbury Fayre in June) and writer Robert Calvert (who began to make impromptu live appearances on vocals as well as contributing lyrics) were absorbed into the band alongside core members Dave Brock (guitar, vocals), Nik Turner (vocals, woodwinds) and Terry Ollis (drums). Completing the six man team of musicnauts whose sole offering together would be just this one album, “X In Search Of Space” it was freakiness itself. So freaky, that the concept behind it was that playing the record would free the group from a dimensional compression within the album itself, for as the following entry in the accompanying ‘Hawklog’ attested:
“1027 hrs. 5 May 1971. Ladbroke Grove. Space/time supply indicators near to zero. Our thoughts are losing depth; soon they will fold into each other, into flatness, into nothing but surface. Our ship will fold like a cardboard file and the noises of our mind compress into a disc of shining black, spinning in eternity...”
And graphic designer Barney Bubbles’ killer sleeve design allowed for such release when played with a tri-directional fold out sleeve and intricate die-cut cover to approximate the shape of a space hawk spreading its wings to the four corners of chaos, eternity, infinity and The Void (the very places Hawkwind’s music described and expanded into) illustrated with inlaid photographs from one of their many free concerts under the Westway overpass in their native community of Ladbroke Grove. Also included within the album was a free, 24-page ‘Hawklog’ written by Robert Calvert and filled with information relating to scientific data, occult references, astrological tables, cartoons, and a travel log whose entries followed non-chronological progressions in time. And it was a perfect reflection of Hawkwind itself: a distilled collage of sci-fi scenarios, hippy values, psychedelic awareness, gnostic explorations and visions of time, space, thought and body into a D.I.Y. Spaceship Earth ethos.
A collection of huge, metronomic epics and wistful, lysergically-tinged ballads with electronics pushed to the fore as everything funneled through a battery of echo, reverb and phasing, “X In Search Of Space” showed how hard Hawkwind had willed themselves forward in terms of both arrangement and performance, creating a collection of material that for all its hard-won confidence was still as roughhewn as ever. Indeed, the sound of the album reflects the decision of several members’ requests that their own tracks be turned down, resulting in a weirdly hollow, highly imbalanced and inadvertent space rock dub mix years ahead of its time. Side one has only two tracks, but they sound and feel like one single massive and barely structured jam that builds, fades, collapses, re-builds and re-fades all over itself with drastic, chaotic ease. The first track, “You Shouldn’t Do That” takes about four minutes to finally achieve lift-off into a roaring, brittle flight that threatens to never, never land. The boomeranging jamming always returns back and when the two chants start up with barely ‘sung’ double-tracked lyrics, everything but the roaming and always unexpected VCS3 trajectories of Del Dettmar are crowded to the back of the mix. Other instruments will assemble, fall away altogether or gain in prominence but at all times the constant un-folding-ness is upheld. Nik’s interstellar message relay sax transmits over the lightly-produced drums which thud out hollow pagan fills until a quietly shuddering VCS3 line wobbles as wah-wah’ed guitar and electronic gulls wheel and climb above the crashing waves of Breath-Land. This pre-ambient freakscape ushers in “You Know You’re Only Dreaming (Visions Of Beyond Recall)” with hurried clusters of Brock’s psy-wah-wah/distortion riffing. The feel of the background vocals are soothing comfort itself -- the very ones which 10cc’s later “I’m Not In Love” utilised for full windy autumn night while the rain spatters lightly against your bedroom window effect. Flutes echo trippily all around Anderson’s distinctly Amon Düül 2-ish bass architecture until Turner switches to sax to rejoin the fray until it slowly blacks out into electronic breathing and a neat, filigree guitar passage. Anderson’s bass continues into the locked inner groove of breath that ends side or leaves it spinning into eternity, depending on the turntable or your state of mind. (Unfortunately, the version on CD just fades out which makes no difference EXCEPT that it is not how it was intended or first experienced when it was released in 1971. And another thing: why does the sleeve clearly exhibit the true title of the album -- rendered within QUOTES, no less -- as “X In Search Of Space” although on the spine and label of the original album it is without the “X”, as Hawkwind’s graphic cartographer Barney Bubbles had so lovingly intended? I believe it was a typographic error, but perhaps Nik Turner’s 1978 solo album, “Xinittoday” for which Bubbles also created the sleeve was so named to compensate for the mysterious “X” omission.)
“Master Of The Universe” starts up the second side with a high-pitched electronic signal rising upward and taxiing off the ensuing Dave Anderson bass line, splintery guitar rhythm and a background reverbed and distorted riff that burns unabated throughout the track’s psychic rollercoastering. Turner releases a gloriously stoned and backward-echoed vocal and the harsh background guitar grind of Brock recedes and returns with each and every wax and wane of the ever-fanning wave of propulsive rhythms. Phasing appears and covers everything like a glowing layer of treacle but for all the honeyed mind-melt, even that sticky mess cannot keep it off its unswerving path. “Master of The Universe” was the beginning of a far harder direction of Krautrocking metronome-drone that Hawkwind would pursue further over the next four years, and it would grow into a monstrously heavy track over the coming months, as well as becoming one of their best known album tracks, ever. A final, phased explosion crossfades with the shimmering acoustic 12-string guitar that sets sail into “We Took The Wrong Step Years Ago” and it would be the most soothing of lullabies were it not for its many unquiet warnings. This is followed by the unsteady and freaked-out “Adjust Me”: Freaky electronic oscillations, saxophonic wah-wah-ing and mere cymbal taps all float by in a set up for disconcerting and cryptic instructions, intoned from the lowest of all evil robotics into tripping chipmunks as it speeds up into the nearest black hole and stretches into infinity. The instrumental section enters cautiously, as though sniffing around to make sure the vanished narrator will not return and commences carefully with a brief freak-out borrowed from “Phallus Dei” (which Amon Düül 2 themselves borrowed from Jefferson Airplane’s “Spare Chaynge”) as additional wafting of ghostly electronic oscillations pass overhead until then the instrumental is next up to be unmercifully swept up in speed and into a shattering, electronic stutter right up against the wall of The Void and cross-cut into the downered acoustic “Children Of The Sun,” which draws the album to a numbed, stupefied close.
Dave Anderson departed Hawkwind soon afterwards, along with drummer Terry Ollis and Hawkwind’s chemistry would alter once again. But never again would it be quite as imbalanced between vibe, capability and sound production as “X In Search Of Space.” -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
review[-] by Mike DeGagneIn Search of Space strengthened Hawkwind's science fiction-type brand of progressive rock, gaining bass player Dave Anderson and galactic poet extraordinaire Rob Calvert, while losing John Harrison at the same time. The album opens with the mind-numbing galactic haze of "You Shouldn't Do That," a spooky little 15-minute excursion that warps, throbs, and swirls with Dik Mik's "audio generator" and the steady drum pace of Terry Ollis. Then comes the ominous whispering of the title, set to the pulsating waves of Dave Brock's guitar and Turner's alto sax, with Dettmar's synth work laying the foundation. Wonderfully setting the tone, "You Shouldn't Do That"'s improvisational looseness and rhythmic fusion smoothly open up the album into the realm of Hawkwind. The peculiarity never ceases, as "You Know You're Only Dreaming" and "We Took the Wrong Steps Years Ago" delves even deeper into obscurity, sometimes emanating with the familiar jangle of the guitar which then has its acquaintance overshadowed by the waft of the keyboard. Just as "Master of the Universe" chugs and rolls with a foreboding rhythm, "Adjust Me" retaliates with its moaning verse and tonal fluctuations fading into oblivion. The groundbreaking sound which Hawkwind achieved on In Search of Space helped to open up a whole new avenue of progressive rock. This album would lead to their most successful release in Space Ritual, coming two years after In Search of Space, with their interplanetary groove already set for takeoff.
In Search of Space strengthened Hawkwind's science fiction-type brand of progressive rock, gaining bass player Dave Anderson and galactic poet extraordinaire Rob Calvert, while losing John Harrison at the same time. The album opens with the mind-numbing galactic haze of "You Shouldn't Do That," a spooky little 15-minute excursion that warps, throbs, and swirls with Dik Mik's "audio generator" and the steady drum pace of Terry Ollis. Then comes the ominous whispering of the title, set to the pulsating waves of Dave Brock's guitar and Turner's alto sax, with Dettmar's synth work laying the foundation. Wonderfully setting the tone, "You Shouldn't Do That"'s improvisational looseness and rhythmic fusion smoothly open up the album into the realm of Hawkwind. The peculiarity never ceases, as "You Know You're Only Dreaming" and "We Took the Wrong Steps Years Ago" delves even deeper into obscurity, sometimes emanating with the familiar jangle of the guitar which then has its acquaintance overshadowed by the waft of the keyboard. Just as "Master of the Universe" chugs and rolls with a foreboding rhythm, "Adjust Me" retaliates with its moaning verse and tonal fluctuations fading into oblivion. The groundbreaking sound which Hawkwind achieved on In Search of Space helped to open up a whole new avenue of progressive rock. This album would lead to their most successful release in Space Ritual, coming two years after In Search of Space, with their interplanetary groove already set for takeoff.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:31 (thirteen years ago)
170. CAPTAIN BEEFHEART & THE MAGIC BAND Clear Spot (1426 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #120 for 1972 , #3800 overall | Acclaimed: #639http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6223/6279769104_5fbea8966a_b.jpg
This one really does rock out--it's got the Blackberries, horn charts, everything the promotion department could ask except a hummable tune. Much womanizing, of course--rather less, er, allusive than usual but laced with the unexpected, as in the title "Nowadays a Woman's Gotta Hit a Man," a prescription from which Cap exempts himself. But what makes it work is that it really rocks out. B+ -- R. ChristgauFurther changes and commercial pressures resulted in Clear Spot, which sported a more stylized, heavy-rock style (varied by an excellent, if uncharacteristic, Memphis-style soul number). – Trouser PressListening to it today (yesterday too, for that matter) it strikes me that I feel pretty much the same way about Clear Spot by Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band now as I did when I first encountered it back in '72-' 73 around when it came out. The same emotions spring to mind - exhilaration, bewilderment, disappointment, even anger - when I hear those songs. Of course, it's not the same, really - the feeling of having stumbled across something new and unique, compounded by the fact that I was still a kid as opposed to the worldly-wise and sober individual who now presents himself to you, has long since passed, obviously - but something essential made its mark on me back then, something that's lingered long and hard. Presumably this is what long-seasoned impartial seen-it-all-before 'rock music critics' (proper ones, that is, not charlatans such as myself who, after all, don't even get fucking paid for doing it - though that's an interesting thought, wouldn't you say, Jason, old chap?) mean when they refer to Captain Beefheart having a 'rabid cult following' of fans who 'verge on the messianic'. You know the sort of thing. Beefheart's one o'them folk who somehow get into your bloodstream if you're so inclined and you never get rid of them. Why is this? As good a way to explain it from my own point of view as I can think of is to bang on for a wee while about Clear Spot, being as it was my first encounter with the music of Captain Beefheart.It came in a clear sleeve; Beefheart apparently wanted clear vinyl but Reprise wouldn't wear it - in any case, my mates and I'd already come across the debut LP by Faust and as such were prepared for anything packaging-wise (and, as we mistakenly thought at the time, music-wise) and announced itself to the world as being "A God's Golfball Production". Watch out, lads, this bloke's a rum cove all right, we giggled. We didn't know the half of it. Looking through the credits in more detail, we observed that Beefheart himself aka Don Van Vliet was responsible not only for the singing and harmonica playing but also "wings on Singabus". "What the fuck is that about?" thought two or three 13-14 year old English kids in Somerset, England. (More than 25 years on, at least one of them is still wondering about half of what Don Van Vliet is on about sometimes.) And we hadn't even got to the music yet!When we did give it a listen, one thing became immediately clear; this was like nothing we'd come across before. Our perceptions of what music was about were tossed in the air at random and landed on the ground in a very different order from the way they were before is as good a way I can think of to describe the effect it had on us. Some of mine is still up there; it hasn't come down yet. I mean, we'd already heard a fair bit of the rock/pop music of the time and as such were used to folk with crazy made up names like Frank Zappa and Carlos Santana, so if someone wanted to call himself Captain Beefheart, well, that was fine by us. But the music - that was another matter.We'd certainly never come across Howlin' Wolf or Charley Patton or One-String Jones or Albert Ayler or Ornette Coleman or any of the other artists Beefheart has professed to admire and as such just didn't know what to expect. When one of us put the stylus down on side one and it got to the bit where we heard this voice that makes you feel like he gargles with Victor Kiam's finest belting out "Fast goes fast/Slow goes slow/Alright now, do the Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo", we knew this was no ordinary music. To what extent we actually went for it varied from person to person, but we all knew this was one of the big curve balls out of left field of all time.That first track, "Low Yo Yo Stuff," sets the tone for the album as a whole in more ways than one. First, it highlights the main musical features of the record; the uncanny guitar radar that existed between Zoot Horn Rollo and Rockette Morton when the latter was employing the six-stringed half of his mighty double-neck, the unobtrusive, subtle bass patterns of Orejon formerly known as Roy Estrada and the magical drum and marimba manipulations of the sublime Art Tripp III all at one sitting. Also, any initial impressions one might form of this verging on something resembling 'normal rock music' go well and truly out of the window on repeated hearing. All that chorus verse business is out for a start; rhythmically, it swings more like jazz and/or blues, and the song's construction follows its own path. "You never know what they're gonna do next!" said a mate of mine back in '72. How true.Moving on, what on earth, we marvelled, was he on about when he decreed on the next track that "Nowadays A Woman's Gotta Hit A Man"? By this point however, we were starting to accept the unacceptable more and more. Both harmonica and guitar playing on this track demand a mention; not too sure whether Zoot Horn employs glass finger or steel appendage here, but whichever it is, the effect is shattering. The rhythmic syncopation on this piece grabbed our attention so much at the time that a good deal of involuntary twitching took place. Still does, actually. The horn arrangement works well, not too high in the mix and providing rhythmic rather than tonal variety.My first real problem with this record comes with the next track, "Too Much Time." For a start, the horns, backing vocals and lead guitar playing all come with a bloody huge sticker with "SESSION MUSICIAN" written on them in magic marker pen. The guitar especially sounds so at odds with the fiery innovation you hear from the guitars elsewhere on this record that it virtually ruins the whole track for me on it own. Otherwise, it's not a favourite of mine anyway; sounds too much like Van Morrison for these ears and apart from the bit in the middle where Beefheart goes on about beans, sardines, crackers and cream the lyrics are uninspired by his standards. "Circumstances" gets the record back on track with some blistering harmonica and guitar, though it fades in and out in the middle with little or no purpose that I can see and at one point the ghastly phantasm of one R. Krasnow is evoked by means of some spectacularly gratuitous phasing on the drums. Again, the lyrics are rather average, and this continues on the next track, a somewhat maudlin ballad whose title, "My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains," is the best thing about it. Again, thrilling syncopated rhythms and growling guitars are conspicuous by their absence, replaced as they are by a staid session-musician feel.We were beginning to think the first two tracks might represent the record's zenith when lo and behold, up popped "Sun Zoom Spark" and we were once more transfixed. "I'm gonna zip up my guitar", announced the Captain, and blow me if he didn't go and do just that, or rather got Zoot Horn to whip it out and then some. Slide guitar was a thrilling new sound to us in those days and its weirdness complimented the lyrics perfectly. If you've got someone giving it "Magnet draw day from dark/ Sun zoom spark!" on the old vocal chords you have to come up with something pretty special in the backing to live with that; that was the underlying wisdom of the time, at any rate. A superb track that rattles along like a squirrel across a dual carriageway, powered by clattering percussion and white-hot guitar. Beefheart employs two of his many singing voices and even though the track clocks in under the two minute mark if my memory serves me correctly, there's more of interest than in the previous three bands put together. A great end to a patchy side, and some kind of preparation for what awaits the unwary listener on the other side of the vinyl; not that it could ever prove to be sufficient, as we shall discover.Turn it over and the next thing you know a churning tremolo guitar introduces a bass that walks all over your head in hobnail boots for a few seconds before finally accommodating itself to an eccentric shuffle along with the other instruments, at which point this indescribable voice fills the speakers, informing you amongst other things that the "Swamp's all rotten and stinking - eeeeuuuuuuurrrrrhhhhhhh". Phew, thanks for the warning. The voice goes on to tell us about "mosquitoes in moccasins steppin' all around", which does not appear to be a prospect he relishes. "'Fraid I'm gonna get hit," he confides as a sepulchral slide guitar fades into nothingness before re-emerging with renewed vigour and the whole business gets going as before till once again it dies away with the voice reaffirming its need "t'find a cleeeeear spot".Before you can recover, the slide's back and we're straight into "Crazy little Thing", one of those Beefheart tracks that sneaks up on you over the years. We didn't care for it much at first; it has the same gratuitous backing singers as "Too Much Time" and I guess it just takes a while for the effect of that guitar/bass syncopation thing to sink in sometimes. Now I like it just fine and wobble about involuntarily in sympathy with its lascivious rhythms and lyrical message. Next, a blast of harmonica announces "Long Neck Bottles," in which Zoot Horn delivers the finest three-note guitar solo of all time and the horn section compliments the shuffling rhythm as on "Nowadays A Woman's Gotta Hit A Man." "I don't like to talk about my women," Beefheart declaims, "But I'm gonna do it anyway" and the harp screeches on to the fade. The mood changes abruptly with "Her Eyes Are A Blue Million Miles," which would have sounded at home on Safe As Milk, being as it is a self-pitying yet exquisite minor key paean to his love featuring mandolin, bells and exquisite guitar. Again, my schoolfriends and I rather dismissed this song at first, but on reflection it is genuinely affecting rather than merely maudlin; also, it provides a lull in the side's mood which then balances neatly between the uptempo romps of the first three tracks and what is to follow.A guitar careers out of either speaker atop a lightning blues riff. They coalesce as a mixture between a carnival barker and a JA toaster takes over proceedings. For the uninitiated, his spiel is pretty much as follows: "Distant cousins - there's a limited supply/'N' we're down to the dozens - 'n' this is why/Big eyed beans from Venus - oh my, oh my!" Lyrics and music build to a crescendo; Bo Diddley would doubtless put a claim in the rhythm if he heard it but otherwise it's like nothing you heard in your life. Then you go deeper. A guitar rings out like a bell in a church on Mars and the voice exhorts him to "hit that long lunar note...and let it float." He does. Once more the track masses layer on layer of frantic polyrhythm, the drummer getting crazier and crazier until eventually he delivers a tom-tom fill that triggers off music that has never been matched, before or since. "Put 'em out in the sun/'n' when the night comes/You don't have to go out & get 'em" snarls the singer, and from that moment the guitar playing and drumming is beyond words. The music ebbs and flows, mocking any kind of conventional song structure until the vocalist returns to the crux of the matter: "Don't let anything come in between us/BIG-EEEEEEEYED BEEEEEEEANS FROM VEEEEEEEEE-NUUSSSS!" The drums and guitar... Jesus, didn't you hear what I just said? You get back to the middle of the track where it gets deeper and that guitar rings out again, its companion scratching desperately at its heels until once again a piece of glass or metal on a set of steel strings produces an otherwordly glisssando which quivers and sustains for what seems like years, then gently fades into nothing.Straightway the voice is back. "Those little golden birdies - look at them!" That's an order! A bass guitar played with a plutonium plectrum though an amplifier the size of Madagascar shatters the very foundation of your being and from then on it's an intoxicating mixture of indecipherable poetry, frenetic guitar/marimba duets that sound not unlike the ones at the start of "The Clouds Are Full Of Wine (Not Whiskey Or Rye)" on Lick My Decals Off, Baby and thundering tom-tom interjections. None of it makes any sense whatsoever to me and I love it more than I can say. It ends with those immortal words we have all come to know and love, whether you first heard it in 1972 soon after it came out as my friends and I did or whether you first heard it ten seconds ago:"And the pantaloon duck/White goose-neck quacked/Webcore, webcore.'How true. If these last two tracks had not appeared, Clear Spot would probably go down as a patchy attempt at commercial compromise and a relatively low point in Captain Beefheart's career, which is probably unfair, but as it is it remains a favourite of many and deservedly so in my opinion. There is some evidence that pressures on Beefheart to adopt a more sales-friendly approach were bearing fruit to an extent, but thankfully you can't keep a good man down and tracks such as the title track and the last two on side 2 make this a record to remember by any standards. Clear Spot was the last decent Beefheart record until his triumphant return to form in the late '70's, but, more than that, it was the last meaningful appearance of The Magic Band that for so many represent his best group. It's remembered with great fondness and no little awe for that reason alone by many, myself included. I find it hard to talk or write or even think about this record now without recalling how it made me feel back in 1972 when I first came across the incomparable Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band. "I know we always been together/But there's more..." -- Richard Mason, Perfectsoundforever
Further changes and commercial pressures resulted in Clear Spot, which sported a more stylized, heavy-rock style (varied by an excellent, if uncharacteristic, Memphis-style soul number). – Trouser Press
Listening to it today (yesterday too, for that matter) it strikes me that I feel pretty much the same way about Clear Spot by Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band now as I did when I first encountered it back in '72-' 73 around when it came out. The same emotions spring to mind - exhilaration, bewilderment, disappointment, even anger - when I hear those songs. Of course, it's not the same, really - the feeling of having stumbled across something new and unique, compounded by the fact that I was still a kid as opposed to the worldly-wise and sober individual who now presents himself to you, has long since passed, obviously - but something essential made its mark on me back then, something that's lingered long and hard. Presumably this is what long-seasoned impartial seen-it-all-before 'rock music critics' (proper ones, that is, not charlatans such as myself who, after all, don't even get fucking paid for doing it - though that's an interesting thought, wouldn't you say, Jason, old chap?) mean when they refer to Captain Beefheart having a 'rabid cult following' of fans who 'verge on the messianic'. You know the sort of thing. Beefheart's one o'them folk who somehow get into your bloodstream if you're so inclined and you never get rid of them. Why is this? As good a way to explain it from my own point of view as I can think of is to bang on for a wee while about Clear Spot, being as it was my first encounter with the music of Captain Beefheart.
It came in a clear sleeve; Beefheart apparently wanted clear vinyl but Reprise wouldn't wear it - in any case, my mates and I'd already come across the debut LP by Faust and as such were prepared for anything packaging-wise (and, as we mistakenly thought at the time, music-wise) and announced itself to the world as being "A God's Golfball Production". Watch out, lads, this bloke's a rum cove all right, we giggled. We didn't know the half of it. Looking through the credits in more detail, we observed that Beefheart himself aka Don Van Vliet was responsible not only for the singing and harmonica playing but also "wings on Singabus". "What the fuck is that about?" thought two or three 13-14 year old English kids in Somerset, England. (More than 25 years on, at least one of them is still wondering about half of what Don Van Vliet is on about sometimes.) And we hadn't even got to the music yet!
When we did give it a listen, one thing became immediately clear; this was like nothing we'd come across before. Our perceptions of what music was about were tossed in the air at random and landed on the ground in a very different order from the way they were before is as good a way I can think of to describe the effect it had on us. Some of mine is still up there; it hasn't come down yet. I mean, we'd already heard a fair bit of the rock/pop music of the time and as such were used to folk with crazy made up names like Frank Zappa and Carlos Santana, so if someone wanted to call himself Captain Beefheart, well, that was fine by us. But the music - that was another matter.
We'd certainly never come across Howlin' Wolf or Charley Patton or One-String Jones or Albert Ayler or Ornette Coleman or any of the other artists Beefheart has professed to admire and as such just didn't know what to expect. When one of us put the stylus down on side one and it got to the bit where we heard this voice that makes you feel like he gargles with Victor Kiam's finest belting out "Fast goes fast/Slow goes slow/Alright now, do the Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo", we knew this was no ordinary music. To what extent we actually went for it varied from person to person, but we all knew this was one of the big curve balls out of left field of all time.
That first track, "Low Yo Yo Stuff," sets the tone for the album as a whole in more ways than one. First, it highlights the main musical features of the record; the uncanny guitar radar that existed between Zoot Horn Rollo and Rockette Morton when the latter was employing the six-stringed half of his mighty double-neck, the unobtrusive, subtle bass patterns of Orejon formerly known as Roy Estrada and the magical drum and marimba manipulations of the sublime Art Tripp III all at one sitting. Also, any initial impressions one might form of this verging on something resembling 'normal rock music' go well and truly out of the window on repeated hearing. All that chorus verse business is out for a start; rhythmically, it swings more like jazz and/or blues, and the song's construction follows its own path. "You never know what they're gonna do next!" said a mate of mine back in '72. How true.
Moving on, what on earth, we marvelled, was he on about when he decreed on the next track that "Nowadays A Woman's Gotta Hit A Man"? By this point however, we were starting to accept the unacceptable more and more. Both harmonica and guitar playing on this track demand a mention; not too sure whether Zoot Horn employs glass finger or steel appendage here, but whichever it is, the effect is shattering. The rhythmic syncopation on this piece grabbed our attention so much at the time that a good deal of involuntary twitching took place. Still does, actually. The horn arrangement works well, not too high in the mix and providing rhythmic rather than tonal variety.
My first real problem with this record comes with the next track, "Too Much Time." For a start, the horns, backing vocals and lead guitar playing all come with a bloody huge sticker with "SESSION MUSICIAN" written on them in magic marker pen. The guitar especially sounds so at odds with the fiery innovation you hear from the guitars elsewhere on this record that it virtually ruins the whole track for me on it own. Otherwise, it's not a favourite of mine anyway; sounds too much like Van Morrison for these ears and apart from the bit in the middle where Beefheart goes on about beans, sardines, crackers and cream the lyrics are uninspired by his standards. "Circumstances" gets the record back on track with some blistering harmonica and guitar, though it fades in and out in the middle with little or no purpose that I can see and at one point the ghastly phantasm of one R. Krasnow is evoked by means of some spectacularly gratuitous phasing on the drums. Again, the lyrics are rather average, and this continues on the next track, a somewhat maudlin ballad whose title, "My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains," is the best thing about it. Again, thrilling syncopated rhythms and growling guitars are conspicuous by their absence, replaced as they are by a staid session-musician feel.
We were beginning to think the first two tracks might represent the record's zenith when lo and behold, up popped "Sun Zoom Spark" and we were once more transfixed. "I'm gonna zip up my guitar", announced the Captain, and blow me if he didn't go and do just that, or rather got Zoot Horn to whip it out and then some. Slide guitar was a thrilling new sound to us in those days and its weirdness complimented the lyrics perfectly. If you've got someone giving it "Magnet draw day from dark/ Sun zoom spark!" on the old vocal chords you have to come up with something pretty special in the backing to live with that; that was the underlying wisdom of the time, at any rate. A superb track that rattles along like a squirrel across a dual carriageway, powered by clattering percussion and white-hot guitar. Beefheart employs two of his many singing voices and even though the track clocks in under the two minute mark if my memory serves me correctly, there's more of interest than in the previous three bands put together. A great end to a patchy side, and some kind of preparation for what awaits the unwary listener on the other side of the vinyl; not that it could ever prove to be sufficient, as we shall discover.
Turn it over and the next thing you know a churning tremolo guitar introduces a bass that walks all over your head in hobnail boots for a few seconds before finally accommodating itself to an eccentric shuffle along with the other instruments, at which point this indescribable voice fills the speakers, informing you amongst other things that the "Swamp's all rotten and stinking - eeeeuuuuuuurrrrrhhhhhhh". Phew, thanks for the warning. The voice goes on to tell us about "mosquitoes in moccasins steppin' all around", which does not appear to be a prospect he relishes. "'Fraid I'm gonna get hit," he confides as a sepulchral slide guitar fades into nothingness before re-emerging with renewed vigour and the whole business gets going as before till once again it dies away with the voice reaffirming its need "t'find a cleeeeear spot".
Before you can recover, the slide's back and we're straight into "Crazy little Thing", one of those Beefheart tracks that sneaks up on you over the years. We didn't care for it much at first; it has the same gratuitous backing singers as "Too Much Time" and I guess it just takes a while for the effect of that guitar/bass syncopation thing to sink in sometimes. Now I like it just fine and wobble about involuntarily in sympathy with its lascivious rhythms and lyrical message. Next, a blast of harmonica announces "Long Neck Bottles," in which Zoot Horn delivers the finest three-note guitar solo of all time and the horn section compliments the shuffling rhythm as on "Nowadays A Woman's Gotta Hit A Man." "I don't like to talk about my women," Beefheart declaims, "But I'm gonna do it anyway" and the harp screeches on to the fade. The mood changes abruptly with "Her Eyes Are A Blue Million Miles," which would have sounded at home on Safe As Milk, being as it is a self-pitying yet exquisite minor key paean to his love featuring mandolin, bells and exquisite guitar. Again, my schoolfriends and I rather dismissed this song at first, but on reflection it is genuinely affecting rather than merely maudlin; also, it provides a lull in the side's mood which then balances neatly between the uptempo romps of the first three tracks and what is to follow.
A guitar careers out of either speaker atop a lightning blues riff. They coalesce as a mixture between a carnival barker and a JA toaster takes over proceedings. For the uninitiated, his spiel is pretty much as follows: "Distant cousins - there's a limited supply/'N' we're down to the dozens - 'n' this is why/Big eyed beans from Venus - oh my, oh my!" Lyrics and music build to a crescendo; Bo Diddley would doubtless put a claim in the rhythm if he heard it but otherwise it's like nothing you heard in your life. Then you go deeper. A guitar rings out like a bell in a church on Mars and the voice exhorts him to "hit that long lunar note...and let it float." He does. Once more the track masses layer on layer of frantic polyrhythm, the drummer getting crazier and crazier until eventually he delivers a tom-tom fill that triggers off music that has never been matched, before or since. "Put 'em out in the sun/'n' when the night comes/You don't have to go out & get 'em" snarls the singer, and from that moment the guitar playing and drumming is beyond words. The music ebbs and flows, mocking any kind of conventional song structure until the vocalist returns to the crux of the matter: "Don't let anything come in between us/BIG-EEEEEEEYED BEEEEEEEANS FROM VEEEEEEEEE-NUUSSSS!" The drums and guitar... Jesus, didn't you hear what I just said? You get back to the middle of the track where it gets deeper and that guitar rings out again, its companion scratching desperately at its heels until once again a piece of glass or metal on a set of steel strings produces an otherwordly glisssando which quivers and sustains for what seems like years, then gently fades into nothing.
Straightway the voice is back. "Those little golden birdies - look at them!" That's an order! A bass guitar played with a plutonium plectrum though an amplifier the size of Madagascar shatters the very foundation of your being and from then on it's an intoxicating mixture of indecipherable poetry, frenetic guitar/marimba duets that sound not unlike the ones at the start of "The Clouds Are Full Of Wine (Not Whiskey Or Rye)" on Lick My Decals Off, Baby and thundering tom-tom interjections. None of it makes any sense whatsoever to me and I love it more than I can say. It ends with those immortal words we have all come to know and love, whether you first heard it in 1972 soon after it came out as my friends and I did or whether you first heard it ten seconds ago:
"And the pantaloon duck/White goose-neck quacked/Webcore, webcore.'
How true. If these last two tracks had not appeared, Clear Spot would probably go down as a patchy attempt at commercial compromise and a relatively low point in Captain Beefheart's career, which is probably unfair, but as it is it remains a favourite of many and deservedly so in my opinion. There is some evidence that pressures on Beefheart to adopt a more sales-friendly approach were bearing fruit to an extent, but thankfully you can't keep a good man down and tracks such as the title track and the last two on side 2 make this a record to remember by any standards. Clear Spot was the last decent Beefheart record until his triumphant return to form in the late '70's, but, more than that, it was the last meaningful appearance of The Magic Band that for so many represent his best group. It's remembered with great fondness and no little awe for that reason alone by many, myself included. I find it hard to talk or write or even think about this record now without recalling how it made me feel back in 1972 when I first came across the incomparable Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band. "I know we always been together/But there's more..." -- Richard Mason, Perfectsoundforever
review[-] by Ned RaggettProducer Ted Templeman was a bit of a surprising choice given his firmly mainstream production credits, with the Doobie Brothers already under his belt and Van Halen lurking in the near future. As it turned out, such a combination led to a better-working fusion than might be expected, making one wonder why in the world Clear Spot wasn't more of a commercial success than it was. The sound is great throughout, and the feeling is of the coolest bar-band in town, not to mention one that could eat all the patrons for breakfast if it felt like it. Fans of the fully all-out side of Beefheart might find the end result not fully up to snuff as a result, but those less concerned with pushing back all borders all the time will enjoy his unexpected blend of everything tempered with a new accessibility. "Nowadays a Woman's Got to Hit a Man," besides having a brilliant title, shows the balance perfectly -- Van Vliet serves up his rough asides with all his expected wit and sass, while the Magic Band trade off notes here and there just so. At the same time, the track is strong blues-rock that doesn't pander, with a particularly fierce solo thanks to Zoot Horn Rollo. "My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains" is a great love song, the softer arrangement saved from being too off by Beefheart's delivery. Other winners include the title track, a sharp combination of an off-kilter arrangement for a straightforward melody, the great shaggy-dog story of "Golden Birdies," and "Big Eyed Beans from Venus," a fantastically strange piece of aggression.
Producer Ted Templeman was a bit of a surprising choice given his firmly mainstream production credits, with the Doobie Brothers already under his belt and Van Halen lurking in the near future. As it turned out, such a combination led to a better-working fusion than might be expected, making one wonder why in the world Clear Spot wasn't more of a commercial success than it was. The sound is great throughout, and the feeling is of the coolest bar-band in town, not to mention one that could eat all the patrons for breakfast if it felt like it. Fans of the fully all-out side of Beefheart might find the end result not fully up to snuff as a result, but those less concerned with pushing back all borders all the time will enjoy his unexpected blend of everything tempered with a new accessibility. "Nowadays a Woman's Got to Hit a Man," besides having a brilliant title, shows the balance perfectly -- Van Vliet serves up his rough asides with all his expected wit and sass, while the Magic Band trade off notes here and there just so. At the same time, the track is strong blues-rock that doesn't pander, with a particularly fierce solo thanks to Zoot Horn Rollo. "My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains" is a great love song, the softer arrangement saved from being too off by Beefheart's delivery. Other winners include the title track, a sharp combination of an off-kilter arrangement for a straightforward melody, the great shaggy-dog story of "Golden Birdies," and "Big Eyed Beans from Venus," a fantastically strange piece of aggression.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:45 (thirteen years ago)
love this album
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:48 (thirteen years ago)
pop into Record Fayre when you get back
will do. i haven't been in there for years.
― stirmonster, Friday, 22 March 2013 18:58 (thirteen years ago)
169. THE SENSATIONAL ALEX HARVEY BAND Next... (1429 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #239 for 1973http://www.bandswallpapers.com/data/media/19/Alex_Harvey_Band.JPGhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6anl2vYU9wr5h1kEh5XAQ4spotify:album:6anl2vYU9wr5h1kEh5XAQ4
Alex Harvey was another talented artist who didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the glam scene, as his roots go all the way back to a Scottish skiffle band in 1955. In 1959 to 1964 his Alex Harvey Big Soul band played some of the same clubs as The Beatles in Hamburg. After unsuccesful dabbling with psychedelica and musicals, Harvey finally clicked with Scottish band Tear Gas and became The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, adopting the flambouyance of glam contemporaries, but also adding cabaret influences to the hard rock. After the successful debut Framed (1972), he pulled in producer Phil Wainman (Sweet, Bay City Rollers) to add some over the top pop sheen while tackling Jaques Brel, and an unusually droning, creepy song about a religious con artist, “The Faith Healer.” The lengthy guitar-driven song became his first surprise hit single. The influence of that song can be heard in several AC/DC songs a few years later.The Impossible Dream (1974) and Tomorrow Belongs To Me (1975) continued his hot streak, and long after chart success, Harvey kept rocking until he succumbed to a heart attack in 1982. – Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Donald A. GuariscoAfter making an impressive and promising debut with Framed, the Sensational Alex Harvey Band perfected their unique, glam-inspired fusion of hard rock and cabaret styles on Next. It also happens to be their best-sounding album thanks to the efforts of Phil Wainman, a producer best known for his work as a bubblegum-pop svengali to the likes of Sweet and the Bay City Rollers. Wainman puts the band's sound over the top by adding a sense of studio polish that fleshes out their odd combination of styles without taking away from the music's sense of rock and roll power. The result is an album that has all the muscle of a good hard-rock recording but tempers its bombast with a sense of big-production depth and clarity that brings outs the band's tight musicianship. Next also produced the Sensational Alex Harvey Band's first hit single with "Faith Healer," the creepy tale of a religious con artist that blends an intense vocal from Harvey with a thunderous, guitar-driven wall of sound production. Other standout moments include the title track, a frenzied reading of a ribald Jacques Brel tune that effectively pits Harvey's anguished wail against lovely orchestrations, and "The Last Of The Teenage Idols," an autobiographical exploration of Harvey's travails in the music business that shows off the band's versatility through an arrangement that encompasses hard rock, big-band soul, and even doo-wop. To sum up, Next is one of the true high points of the English glam-rock boom and required listening for anyone with an interest in Alex Harvey's music.
After making an impressive and promising debut with Framed, the Sensational Alex Harvey Band perfected their unique, glam-inspired fusion of hard rock and cabaret styles on Next. It also happens to be their best-sounding album thanks to the efforts of Phil Wainman, a producer best known for his work as a bubblegum-pop svengali to the likes of Sweet and the Bay City Rollers. Wainman puts the band's sound over the top by adding a sense of studio polish that fleshes out their odd combination of styles without taking away from the music's sense of rock and roll power. The result is an album that has all the muscle of a good hard-rock recording but tempers its bombast with a sense of big-production depth and clarity that brings outs the band's tight musicianship. Next also produced the Sensational Alex Harvey Band's first hit single with "Faith Healer," the creepy tale of a religious con artist that blends an intense vocal from Harvey with a thunderous, guitar-driven wall of sound production. Other standout moments include the title track, a frenzied reading of a ribald Jacques Brel tune that effectively pits Harvey's anguished wail against lovely orchestrations, and "The Last Of The Teenage Idols," an autobiographical exploration of Harvey's travails in the music business that shows off the band's versatility through an arrangement that encompasses hard rock, big-band soul, and even doo-wop. To sum up, Next is one of the true high points of the English glam-rock boom and required listening for anyone with an interest in Alex Harvey's music.
Brilliant album by Scotland's finest!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:00 (thirteen years ago)
Even tom d will agree!
CLEAR SPOT TOO LOW YO YO STUFF
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 19:01 (thirteen years ago)
pop into Record Fayre when you get backwill do. i haven't been in there for years.― stirmonster,
― stirmonster,
Wonder if they still have all those Numan singles?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:01 (thirteen years ago)
168. RUFUS & CHAKA KHAN Rufusized (1440 Points, 10 Votes)RYM: #414 for 1974http://www.silverdisc.com/images/00/008811023621.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2sHAqFrPhtYv0FbD0ovyNcspotify:album:2sHAqFrPhtYv0FbD0ovyNc
Chaka's got a mostly new, mostly black band, and it makes a difference, especially in the in-house songwriting, with hooks courtesy guitarist Tony Maiden. The lyrics are worth catching, too, especially the answer to "Rocket Man," in which the wife croons "The universe is calling you" without a hint of sarcasm. Guess that's what assuming the spiritual mannerisms of Stevie and Aretha--launching your voice into free fall, I mean--can bring you to. B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Jason EliasIn the early '70s, Rufus was one of the most popular and interesting bands in R&B and rock. Of course, the reason was Chaka Khan, who possessed an amazing voice that was well versed in rock and jazz every bit as much as R&B. Their debut went nowhere, Rags to Rufus offered two instant classics, and Rufusized displayed their skill as album artists. Truth be told, this version of Rufus was nearly a brand-new band, as three members exited and guitarist Tony Maiden and bassist Bobby Watson joined up. The result was a funkier and more talented band who would give Khan the needed earthy and ethereal mix that would make her soar. The sexy and danceable "Once You Started" proves that this version of the band gave off immediate sparks and results. The sneaky and funky "Somebody's Watching You" has Khan displaying even more confidence. After great album cuts like the soothing "Your Smile" and "Pack'd My Bags," Rufusized ends on a strong note. The poignant and sophisticated "Please Pardon Me (You Remind Me)" leads into the Maiden and Khan duet cover of Bobby Womack's "Stop on By," which nearly matches the steaminess and wry nature of the original. Often forgotten due to the bigger hits on Rags to Rufus, this easily outstrips that album and became of one the band's most-loved efforts.
In the early '70s, Rufus was one of the most popular and interesting bands in R&B and rock. Of course, the reason was Chaka Khan, who possessed an amazing voice that was well versed in rock and jazz every bit as much as R&B. Their debut went nowhere, Rags to Rufus offered two instant classics, and Rufusized displayed their skill as album artists. Truth be told, this version of Rufus was nearly a brand-new band, as three members exited and guitarist Tony Maiden and bassist Bobby Watson joined up. The result was a funkier and more talented band who would give Khan the needed earthy and ethereal mix that would make her soar. The sexy and danceable "Once You Started" proves that this version of the band gave off immediate sparks and results. The sneaky and funky "Somebody's Watching You" has Khan displaying even more confidence. After great album cuts like the soothing "Your Smile" and "Pack'd My Bags," Rufusized ends on a strong note. The poignant and sophisticated "Please Pardon Me (You Remind Me)" leads into the Maiden and Khan duet cover of Bobby Womack's "Stop on By," which nearly matches the steaminess and wry nature of the original. Often forgotten due to the bigger hits on Rags to Rufus, this easily outstrips that album and became of one the band's most-loved efforts.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:17 (thirteen years ago)
Their best album and Kitchen Person will be pleased!
first track is particularly awesome too
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:21 (thirteen years ago)
167. THE PRETTY THINGS Parachute (1449 Points, 11 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #43 for 1970 , #1153 overall | Acclaimed: #4358http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/850/MI0001850663.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3HcQSHCRgL9t5LNNy62u8Ispotify:album:3HcQSHCRgL9t5LNNy62u8I
review[-] by Jack RabidIf S.F. Sorrow is the Pretty Things' Sgt. Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour, and Yellow Submarine wrapped in one, then Parachute is their more succinct White Album and Abbey Road. It's not just a time line comparison. The Pretties made this fascinating LP in the same studio as the Fab Four, London's Abbey Road, with Beatles engineer Norman Smith producing. "The Good Mr. Square" replicates the three-part harmony the Beatles were so proud of on "Because." Two songs later, the group assembles a brief, interconnected three-song suite like the famous ones on side two of Abbey Road. Bassist Wally Allen's vocals on tracks such as "Sickle Clowns" have the same throaty, mad anguish that John Lennon exhibited on "Yer Blues" and "Happiness Is a Warm Gun." If S.F. Sorrow is hard rock grandeur, then Parachute is its more bitter twist, the dream dying and the witching hour upon us. Yet, if this isn't as much of a triumph, the creative neurons are still firing throughout a multi-varied, cohesive LP. Like S.F. Sorrow, it's a surprisingly palatable concept LP. This time the topic is a generation caught between the conflicting calls of (rural) peace, love, and boredom, and (urban) sophistication, sex, and squalor in a harsh world. Somehow the departure of the band's main creative force, Dick Taylor, didn't diminish the writing and inspired variety. Allen stepped up big time into the collaborator role with singer Phil May. The harmonies remain a strong point on an otherwise rock-inclined record, and the nasty edge of perfectly balanced bombast in the best songs have been a lost art ever since. (There are 18 minutes of good stuff tacked on the Snapper edition, taken from singles.)
If S.F. Sorrow is the Pretty Things' Sgt. Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour, and Yellow Submarine wrapped in one, then Parachute is their more succinct White Album and Abbey Road. It's not just a time line comparison. The Pretties made this fascinating LP in the same studio as the Fab Four, London's Abbey Road, with Beatles engineer Norman Smith producing. "The Good Mr. Square" replicates the three-part harmony the Beatles were so proud of on "Because." Two songs later, the group assembles a brief, interconnected three-song suite like the famous ones on side two of Abbey Road. Bassist Wally Allen's vocals on tracks such as "Sickle Clowns" have the same throaty, mad anguish that John Lennon exhibited on "Yer Blues" and "Happiness Is a Warm Gun." If S.F. Sorrow is hard rock grandeur, then Parachute is its more bitter twist, the dream dying and the witching hour upon us. Yet, if this isn't as much of a triumph, the creative neurons are still firing throughout a multi-varied, cohesive LP. Like S.F. Sorrow, it's a surprisingly palatable concept LP. This time the topic is a generation caught between the conflicting calls of (rural) peace, love, and boredom, and (urban) sophistication, sex, and squalor in a harsh world. Somehow the departure of the band's main creative force, Dick Taylor, didn't diminish the writing and inspired variety. Allen stepped up big time into the collaborator role with singer Phil May. The harmonies remain a strong point on an otherwise rock-inclined record, and the nasty edge of perfectly balanced bombast in the best songs have been a lost art ever since. (There are 18 minutes of good stuff tacked on the Snapper edition, taken from singles.)
in 1970 Parachute was named Album of the Year by Rolling Stone.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:30 (thirteen years ago)
And it's despite being nothing like S.F.Sorrow (or as great)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:31 (thirteen years ago)
reminder POLLIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET (ILM artist poll #32 voting thread)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:37 (thirteen years ago)
voting finishes today in that
You'd think there'd be a RS review but the archives are incomplete.
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:38 (thirteen years ago)
Pretty Things are paying here soon. Wonder what they're like live now?
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 19:39 (thirteen years ago)
They're playing Roadburn apparently
and yes I was expecting an RS review and was going to ask you. What did those RS books that came out say about it? ratings?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:41 (thirteen years ago)
166. THE RESIDENTS The Third Reich 'n Roll (1449 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #115 for 1976http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/318/MI0003318468.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/001ZF5lE1sAlUzxrzEk8kV
On The Residents Present the Third Reich 'n Roll the band transforms hooky bits from '60s Top 40 hits into two ridiculous, funny, scary and just plain jaw-dropping- weird side-long suites, "Swastikas on Parade" and "Hitler Was a Vegetarian," intended as "revenge" for the brainwashing of American youth into acceptance of rock's trivialization (or something like that). The LP was reissued with partially censored graphics in '79 (the original cover showed a carrot-toting Nazi officer bearing a distinct resemblance to Dick Clark) and on CD in '87, with the addition of two brilliant early 45s (and their B- sides): "Satisfaction," which makes Devo's subsequent try sound like the 1910 Fruitgum Co., and the Beatles perversion, "Beyond the Valley of a Day in the Life." (Again, the CD graphics return the lurid originals.) – Trouser Press
reviewby Ted MillsTechnically the third album from the group, though released as a follow-up to Meet the Residents, this 40-minute assault on the music of the '60s follows Picasso's dictum of all artists killing their (aesthetic) fathers. Two side-long medleys of songs both classic ("Papa's Got a Brand New Bag") and obscure ("Telstar") are destroyed, deconstructed, mangled, spat on, spit out, ground up, and injected with gleeful humor. If there's any concept here, it's that the brain-numbing catchiness of pop music was fascism in disguise, keeping teenyboppers docile while selling them rebellion, hence the cover art of a gestapo-uniformed Dick Clark holding a carrot. Whether it's only much-suppressed love for these songs (as they went on to return again and again to the themes and artists examined here, including James Brown, "Land of 1000 Dances," and "Double Shot"), it's up to the listener to decide. Mostly any fan of the group will spend many hours trying to decode all the songs here, all the time with a smile on their face. (Officially, there are 29 songs, but there could be more).
Technically the third album from the group, though released as a follow-up to Meet the Residents, this 40-minute assault on the music of the '60s follows Picasso's dictum of all artists killing their (aesthetic) fathers. Two side-long medleys of songs both classic ("Papa's Got a Brand New Bag") and obscure ("Telstar") are destroyed, deconstructed, mangled, spat on, spit out, ground up, and injected with gleeful humor. If there's any concept here, it's that the brain-numbing catchiness of pop music was fascism in disguise, keeping teenyboppers docile while selling them rebellion, hence the cover art of a gestapo-uniformed Dick Clark holding a carrot. Whether it's only much-suppressed love for these songs (as they went on to return again and again to the themes and artists examined here, including James Brown, "Land of 1000 Dances," and "Double Shot"), it's up to the listener to decide. Mostly any fan of the group will spend many hours trying to decode all the songs here, all the time with a smile on their face. (Officially, there are 29 songs, but there could be more).
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:45 (thirteen years ago)
didn't expect the residents to place this high ahead of most that it did.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:48 (thirteen years ago)
Still not high enough!
― emil.y, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:49 (thirteen years ago)
im sure most will disagree with you
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:53 (thirteen years ago)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-QPJoRWz8Sc
― emil.y, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:55 (thirteen years ago)
lol
― dat neggy nilmar (wins), Friday, 22 March 2013 19:55 (thirteen years ago)
well ilm thought 165 albums were better!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 19:59 (thirteen years ago)
165. THE FALL Dragnet (1451 Points, 10 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #73 for 1979 , #3590 overall | Acclaimed: #2354http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/414/MI0002414929.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/4SpX9eZ4j9NtJrWiVptgpospotify:album:4SpX9eZ4j9NtJrWiVptgpo
Dragnet followed with a rougher-edged sound, as well as a new lineup. The first album to feature Craig Scanlon's trademark scratchy, dissonant guitar (which has played a major role in the band ever since), Dragnet is not one of the Fall's best efforts, but contains at least two classic numbers, "Spectre vs. Rector" and "A Figure Walks." – Trouser Press
review[-] by Ned RaggettThe Fall's second album was also one of the hardest to find in later years, getting only sporadic represses and reissues. Though some opinions would have it that there was a good reason for this -- namely, that it was something of a dead end sonically -- it's not as bad as all that. It's true that more than a few tracks come across as Fall-by-numbers (even then, already better than plenty of other bands), but there are some thorough standouts regardless. There's also another key reason to rate Dragnet -- it's the debut album appearance of Craig Scanlon, who picked up on the off-kilter rockabilly-meets-art rock sensibilities of the initial lineup and translated it into amazing guitar work. No less important is the appearance of Steve Hanley, who would soon take over fully on bass from Marc Riley, who in turn moved to guitar, forming one heck of a partnership with Scanlon that would last until Riley jumped ship to form the Creepers. Generally the songs which work the best on Dragnet throw in some amusingly odd curves while still hanging together musically. The full winner is unquestionably "Spectre vs. Rector," an amazing combination of clear lead vocals and buried, heavily echoed music and further rants, before fully exploding halfway through while the rhythm obsessively grinds away. Another odd and wonderful cut is "Muzorewi's Daughter," which starts out sounding like stereotypical Hollywood music for Native American tribes before shifting between that and quicker choruses. "Dice Man," with its rave-up melody and slower vocal- and guitar-only chorus, not to mention the weird muttering elsewhere in the mix, says it all in under two minutes and has fun while doing it. Through it all, Smith rants and raves supreme, spinning out putdowns, cracked vocals, and total bile with all the thrill and energy one could want from a good performer.
The Fall's second album was also one of the hardest to find in later years, getting only sporadic represses and reissues. Though some opinions would have it that there was a good reason for this -- namely, that it was something of a dead end sonically -- it's not as bad as all that. It's true that more than a few tracks come across as Fall-by-numbers (even then, already better than plenty of other bands), but there are some thorough standouts regardless. There's also another key reason to rate Dragnet -- it's the debut album appearance of Craig Scanlon, who picked up on the off-kilter rockabilly-meets-art rock sensibilities of the initial lineup and translated it into amazing guitar work. No less important is the appearance of Steve Hanley, who would soon take over fully on bass from Marc Riley, who in turn moved to guitar, forming one heck of a partnership with Scanlon that would last until Riley jumped ship to form the Creepers. Generally the songs which work the best on Dragnet throw in some amusingly odd curves while still hanging together musically. The full winner is unquestionably "Spectre vs. Rector," an amazing combination of clear lead vocals and buried, heavily echoed music and further rants, before fully exploding halfway through while the rhythm obsessively grinds away. Another odd and wonderful cut is "Muzorewi's Daughter," which starts out sounding like stereotypical Hollywood music for Native American tribes before shifting between that and quicker choruses. "Dice Man," with its rave-up melody and slower vocal- and guitar-only chorus, not to mention the weird muttering elsewhere in the mix, says it all in under two minutes and has fun while doing it. Through it all, Smith rants and raves supreme, spinning out putdowns, cracked vocals, and total bile with all the thrill and energy one could want from a good performer.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:00 (thirteen years ago)
someone summon george to say too low ;)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:02 (thirteen years ago)
Okay, Dragnet is also ace.
― emil.y, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:03 (thirteen years ago)
US spotify links for the residents...
third reich n rollhttp://open.spotify.com/album/001ZF5lE1sAlUzxrzEk8kV
meet the residentshttp://open.spotify.com/album/2hk3L6QimRLFY1zqgrDsqL
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Friday, 22 March 2013 20:06 (thirteen years ago)
dragnet: TOO-AH LOW-AH
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Friday, 22 March 2013 20:07 (thirteen years ago)
I think I was the number one vote for dragnet, which is a little mystifying since it's not actually a real favorite of mine. But I did my ballot quickly and sometimes my knee-jerk reaction is just to vote for the fall.
― herr doktor (askance johnson), Friday, 22 March 2013 20:15 (thirteen years ago)
164. MAGAZINE Secondhand Daylight (1456 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #92 for 1979 , #4516 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/026/MI0000026515.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7M5Hq2btwRR45TDxeHj3aespotify:album:7M5Hq2btwRR45TDxeHj3ae
If it weren't for the two great singles--"Shot by Both Sides" (available on Real Life, now also released domestically) and "I Love You You Big Dummy" (a B-side Beefheart cover)--I'd be certain this was the most overrated band in new-wave Britain. And given the grandiose arrangements, ululating vocals, and published-poet lyrics, I'm pretty sure anyway. Back in the good old days we had a word for this kind of thing--pretentious. C -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Andy KellmanSecondhand Daylight, the second Magazine album, sounds like it must have been made in the dead of winter. You can imagine the steam coming out of Howard Devoto's mouth as he projects lines like "I was cold at an equally cold place," "The voyeur will realize this is not a sight for his sore eyes," "It just came to pieces in our hands," and "Today I bumped into you again, I have no idea what you want." You can picture Dave Formula swiping frost off his keys and Barry Adamson blowing on his hands during the intro to "Feed the Enemy," as guitarist John McGeoch and drummer John Doyle zip their parkas. From start to finish, this is a showcase for Formula's chilling but expressive keyboard work. Given more freedom to stretch out and even dominate on occasion, Formula seems to release as many demons as Devoto, whether it is through low-end synthesizer drones or violent piano vamps. Detached tales of relationships damaged beyond repair fill the album, and the band isn't nearly as bouncy as it is on Real Life or The Correct Use of Soap -- it's almost as if they were instructed to play with as little physical motion as possible. The drums in particular sound brittle and on the brink of piercing the ears. Despite the sub-zero climate, the lack of dance numbers, and the shortage of snappy melodies, the album isn't entirely impenetrable. It lacks the immediate impact of Real Life and The Correct Use of Soap, but it deserves just as much recognition for its compellingly sustained petulance. Even if you can't get into it, you have to at least marvel at "Permafrost." The album's finale, it's an elegant five-minute sneer, and as far as late-'70s yearbook scribbles are concerned, "As the day stops dead, at the place where we're lost, I will drug you and f*ck you on the permafrost" is less innocuous than "All we are is dust in the wind."
Secondhand Daylight, the second Magazine album, sounds like it must have been made in the dead of winter. You can imagine the steam coming out of Howard Devoto's mouth as he projects lines like "I was cold at an equally cold place," "The voyeur will realize this is not a sight for his sore eyes," "It just came to pieces in our hands," and "Today I bumped into you again, I have no idea what you want." You can picture Dave Formula swiping frost off his keys and Barry Adamson blowing on his hands during the intro to "Feed the Enemy," as guitarist John McGeoch and drummer John Doyle zip their parkas. From start to finish, this is a showcase for Formula's chilling but expressive keyboard work. Given more freedom to stretch out and even dominate on occasion, Formula seems to release as many demons as Devoto, whether it is through low-end synthesizer drones or violent piano vamps. Detached tales of relationships damaged beyond repair fill the album, and the band isn't nearly as bouncy as it is on Real Life or The Correct Use of Soap -- it's almost as if they were instructed to play with as little physical motion as possible. The drums in particular sound brittle and on the brink of piercing the ears. Despite the sub-zero climate, the lack of dance numbers, and the shortage of snappy melodies, the album isn't entirely impenetrable. It lacks the immediate impact of Real Life and The Correct Use of Soap, but it deserves just as much recognition for its compellingly sustained petulance. Even if you can't get into it, you have to at least marvel at "Permafrost." The album's finale, it's an elegant five-minute sneer, and as far as late-'70s yearbook scribbles are concerned, "As the day stops dead, at the place where we're lost, I will drug you and f*ck you on the permafrost" is less innocuous than "All we are is dust in the wind."
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:20 (thirteen years ago)
Better album than Correct Use Of SoapIMO
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:29 (thirteen years ago)
163. BLUE ÖYSTER CULT Secret Treaties (1459 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #23 for 1974 , #827 overall | Acclaimed: #1894http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UvRmc6HsTAw/T-UwWBBP73I/AAAAAAAAEpM/rIGE0xxhydg/s1600/124549868797816406629_BlueOysterCult-SecretTreaties-A.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3KdEtoF9TQVqrkIZkeeEjdspotify:album:3KdEtoF9TQVqrkIZkeeEjd
Sometime over the past year, while I wasn't playing their records, I began to wonder whether a cross between the Velvet Underground and Uriah Heep was my idea of a good time. The driving, effortless wit and density of Buck Dharma's guitar flourish in this cold climate, but Eric Bloom couldn't project emotion if they let him, and I'm square enough to find his pseudo-pseudospade cynicism less than funny. Subject of "Dominance and Submission": New Year's 1964 in Times Square. B -- R. ChristgauThe Blue Oyster Cult shares certain traits with that other New York cult band, the Dolls: an appropriate image for the outpouring of urban (and seemingly bottomless) frustration, an offbeat sense of humor and an ability to rock with grandeur. Although they've been together as the Soft White Underbelly and then the Stalk Forrest group since the late Sixties, commercial success has come only with the adoption of a new name and a modified stance: from straight rock & roll to a heavy-metal band. The change in direction and subsequent success... Read Morecan be attributed in large part to non-member Sandy Pearlman, the group's lyricist, stylistic consultant, co-producer and long-time manager.The heavy-metal connotation comes mainly from Pearlman's funny-fantastic lyrics and the vocals, which borrow the shrillness and exaggerated vibrato of lesser people like Black Sabbath and Uriah Heep--seemingly merely for the sake of genre classification.Pearlman's lyrics are alternately concerned with the phantasmagoric modern myths most clearly envisioned by Marvel Comix illustrators, and with macho-military regalia, often associated with the Wehrmacht and the Luftwaffe. But whatever inspiration Pearlman's approach provides, the band transcends eccentric detail when it launches into various instrumental sections. Don Roeser (aka Buck Dharma) plays a dextrous and muscular guitar; no matter how astounding his lead lines are, they're never free-flight solos but rather the cutting edges of arrangements.From the teamed virtuosity and forcefulness of such tracks as "Astronomy" (which sounds like Cossack-rock), "Career Of Evil" (with lyrics by poet Patti Smith) and "Flaming Telepaths" (driven by Don Roeser's overpowering guitar line), Blue Oyster Cult shows signs of achieving a rock & roll hybrid comprised not only of heavy-metal elements but also of the 5-D Byrds and the Brian Jones-dominated Stones. The blend is further modulated by recurring bits from Alice Cooper's "Ballad of Dwight Fry," and the "Theme from Peter Gunn." And there are other quotes from the Sixties, including the Beatles and Motown.If you play Secret Treaties at high volume (and you should if you play it at all), you'll hear all these divergent pieces hurtling along together in tense but still very close formation. Proving that Blue Oyster Cult is at the very least a triumph of aero-dynamics. -- Bud Scoppa, RS
The Blue Oyster Cult shares certain traits with that other New York cult band, the Dolls: an appropriate image for the outpouring of urban (and seemingly bottomless) frustration, an offbeat sense of humor and an ability to rock with grandeur. Although they've been together as the Soft White Underbelly and then the Stalk Forrest group since the late Sixties, commercial success has come only with the adoption of a new name and a modified stance: from straight rock & roll to a heavy-metal band. The change in direction and subsequent success... Read More
can be attributed in large part to non-member Sandy Pearlman, the group's lyricist, stylistic consultant, co-producer and long-time manager.The heavy-metal connotation comes mainly from Pearlman's funny-fantastic lyrics and the vocals, which borrow the shrillness and exaggerated vibrato of lesser people like Black Sabbath and Uriah Heep--seemingly merely for the sake of genre classification.
Pearlman's lyrics are alternately concerned with the phantasmagoric modern myths most clearly envisioned by Marvel Comix illustrators, and with macho-military regalia, often associated with the Wehrmacht and the Luftwaffe. But whatever inspiration Pearlman's approach provides, the band transcends eccentric detail when it launches into various instrumental sections. Don Roeser (aka Buck Dharma) plays a dextrous and muscular guitar; no matter how astounding his lead lines are, they're never free-flight solos but rather the cutting edges of arrangements.
From the teamed virtuosity and forcefulness of such tracks as "Astronomy" (which sounds like Cossack-rock), "Career Of Evil" (with lyrics by poet Patti Smith) and "Flaming Telepaths" (driven by Don Roeser's overpowering guitar line), Blue Oyster Cult shows signs of achieving a rock & roll hybrid comprised not only of heavy-metal elements but also of the 5-D Byrds and the Brian Jones-dominated Stones. The blend is further modulated by recurring bits from Alice Cooper's "Ballad of Dwight Fry," and the "Theme from Peter Gunn." And there are other quotes from the Sixties, including the Beatles and Motown.
If you play Secret Treaties at high volume (and you should if you play it at all), you'll hear all these divergent pieces hurtling along together in tense but still very close formation. Proving that Blue Oyster Cult is at the very least a triumph of aero-dynamics. -- Bud Scoppa, RS
review[-] by Thom JurekWhile the speed-freak adrenaline heaviness and shrouded occult mystery of Tyranny and Mutation is the watermark for Blue Öyster Cult's creative invention, it is Secret Treaties that is widely and critically regarded as the band's classic. Issued in 1974, Secret Treaties is the purest distillation of all of BÖC's strengths. Here the songs are expansive, and lush in their textures. The flamboyance is all here, and so are the overdriven guitar riffs provided by Buck Dharma and Eric Bloom. But there is something else, texturally, that moves these songs out from the blackness and into the shadows. Perhaps it's the bottom-heavy mix by producer and lyricist Sandy Pearlman, with Allen Lanier's electric piano and Joe Bouchard's bass coming to rest in an uneasy balance with the twin-guitar attack. Perhaps it's in the tautness of songwriting and instrumental architectures created by drummer Albert Bouchard, Bloom, and Don Roeser (Buck Dharma). Whatever it is, it offers the Cult a new depth and breadth. While elements of psychedelia have always been a part of the band's sound, it was always enfolded in proto-metal heaviness and biker boogie. Here, BÖC created their own brand of heavy psychedelic noir to diversify their considerably aggressive attack. Listen to "Subhuman" or "Dominance and Submission." Their minor chord flourishes and multi-tracked layered guitars and Bouchard's constantly shimmering cymbals and snare work (he is the most underrated drummer in rock history) and elliptical lyrics -- that Pearlman put out in front of the mix for a change -- added to the fathomless dread and mystery at the heart of the music. Elsewhere, on "Cagey Cretins" and "Harvester of Eyes" (both with lyrics by critic Richard Meltzer), the razor-wire guitar riffs were underscored by Lanier's organ, and their sci-fi urgency heightened by vocal harmonies. But it is on "Flaming Telepaths," with its single-chord hypnotic piano line that brings the lyric "Well, I've opened up my veins too many times/And the poison's in my heart in my heart and in my mind/Poison's in my bloodstream/Poison's in my pride/I'm after rebellion/I'll settle for lives/Is it any wonder that my mind is on fire?" down into the maelstrom and wreaks havoc on the listener. It's a stunner, full of crossing guitar lines and an insistent, demanding rhythmic throb. The set closes with the quark strangeness of "Astronomy," full of melancholy, dread, and loss that leaves the listener unsettled and in an entirely new terrain, having traveled a long way from the boasting rockery of "Career of Evil" that began the journey. It's a breathless rock monolith that is all dark delight and sinister pleasure. While the Cult went on to well-deserved commercial success with Agents of Fortune an album later, the freaky inspiration that was offered on their debut, and brought to shine like a black jewel on Tyranny and Mutation, was fully articulated as visionary on Secret Treaties.
While the speed-freak adrenaline heaviness and shrouded occult mystery of Tyranny and Mutation is the watermark for Blue Öyster Cult's creative invention, it is Secret Treaties that is widely and critically regarded as the band's classic. Issued in 1974, Secret Treaties is the purest distillation of all of BÖC's strengths. Here the songs are expansive, and lush in their textures. The flamboyance is all here, and so are the overdriven guitar riffs provided by Buck Dharma and Eric Bloom. But there is something else, texturally, that moves these songs out from the blackness and into the shadows. Perhaps it's the bottom-heavy mix by producer and lyricist Sandy Pearlman, with Allen Lanier's electric piano and Joe Bouchard's bass coming to rest in an uneasy balance with the twin-guitar attack. Perhaps it's in the tautness of songwriting and instrumental architectures created by drummer Albert Bouchard, Bloom, and Don Roeser (Buck Dharma). Whatever it is, it offers the Cult a new depth and breadth. While elements of psychedelia have always been a part of the band's sound, it was always enfolded in proto-metal heaviness and biker boogie. Here, BÖC created their own brand of heavy psychedelic noir to diversify their considerably aggressive attack. Listen to "Subhuman" or "Dominance and Submission." Their minor chord flourishes and multi-tracked layered guitars and Bouchard's constantly shimmering cymbals and snare work (he is the most underrated drummer in rock history) and elliptical lyrics -- that Pearlman put out in front of the mix for a change -- added to the fathomless dread and mystery at the heart of the music. Elsewhere, on "Cagey Cretins" and "Harvester of Eyes" (both with lyrics by critic Richard Meltzer), the razor-wire guitar riffs were underscored by Lanier's organ, and their sci-fi urgency heightened by vocal harmonies. But it is on "Flaming Telepaths," with its single-chord hypnotic piano line that brings the lyric "Well, I've opened up my veins too many times/And the poison's in my heart in my heart and in my mind/Poison's in my bloodstream/Poison's in my pride/I'm after rebellion/I'll settle for lives/Is it any wonder that my mind is on fire?" down into the maelstrom and wreaks havoc on the listener. It's a stunner, full of crossing guitar lines and an insistent, demanding rhythmic throb. The set closes with the quark strangeness of "Astronomy," full of melancholy, dread, and loss that leaves the listener unsettled and in an entirely new terrain, having traveled a long way from the boasting rockery of "Career of Evil" that began the journey. It's a breathless rock monolith that is all dark delight and sinister pleasure. While the Cult went on to well-deserved commercial success with Agents of Fortune an album later, the freaky inspiration that was offered on their debut, and brought to shine like a black jewel on Tyranny and Mutation, was fully articulated as visionary on Secret Treaties.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:40 (thirteen years ago)
about Pretty Things Parachute
The Blue and Red RS Guides don't list or give older Pretty Things albums ratings because they were out of print. D.M. does say
Taylor left shortly thereafter, and while some of the group's material since is well regarded in Anglophile rock circles, it's really only competent and conventional hard rock
The '80s and '90s versions don't list Pretty Things at all.
― Zachary Taylor, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:44 (thirteen years ago)
A total re-write of history! A shame because its still a good record.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
Last few albums are possibly my all-time favourites from those bands. Love Dragnet especially. So fresh and urgent sounding, feels like ideas are all just erupting out of the band.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Friday, 22 March 2013 20:55 (thirteen years ago)
Lust for Life p low I think. I suppose The Idiot will do well though.
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 20:55 (thirteen years ago)
162. FELA KUTI Expensive Shit (1464 Points, 13 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #10 for 1975 , #327 overall | Acclaimed: #2965http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pEoQAEs3Vq4/TV8VOgd7rpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/UpTuh2z5JNQ/s1600/3661585209591_600.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3q4V97eIqEhtOq43Jk9P4Dspotify:album:3q4V97eIqEhtOq43Jk9P4D
review[-] by Lindsay PlanerThis disc is an overt response to the consistent harassment afflicting Fela Kuti's Kalakuta Republic in the early '70s under the oppressive Lagos authorities. The title track is a direct reference to an actual incident that occurred in which the cops planted a marijuana cigarette on Kuti -- who promptly swallowed it and therefore destroyed any evidence. He was then held until he could pass the drugs from his system -- which miraculously did not occur when his fecal sample was then sent for analysis, thanks to some help from his fellow inmates. Because of the costs incurred during this debacle, Kuti proclaimed his excrement as Expensive Shit. Musically, the Afro-funk and tribal rhythms that Kuti and his Africa '70 put down can rightfully be compared to that of James Brown or even a George Clinton-esque vibe. The beats are infectious with a hint of Latin influence, making the music nearly impossible to keep from moving to. Although the band is large, it is also remarkably tight and malleable enough to accompany and punctuate Kuti's vehement and indicting lyrics. The nature of what Kuti says, as well as infers, amounts to much more than simply whining or bad-rapping the law. His witty and thoughtful raps not only relate his side of the incident, but do so with tongue-in-cheek humor -- such as the statement that his oppressors must really enjoy his feces because they want to examine it so urgently. Yet, he tries to stay away from it, for somewhat obvious reasons. The album's B-side contains the metaphysical "Water No Get Enemy." This is a comparatively jazzy piece, with Africa '70 again exploring and stretching out its impulsive beats behind Kuti's singing. The track features some of his finest and most inspired keyboard work as well. He weaves hypnotic and ethereal electric piano lines over the earthy-sounding brass section. The laid-back groove works well in contrast to the manic tempo of "Expensive Shit."
This disc is an overt response to the consistent harassment afflicting Fela Kuti's Kalakuta Republic in the early '70s under the oppressive Lagos authorities. The title track is a direct reference to an actual incident that occurred in which the cops planted a marijuana cigarette on Kuti -- who promptly swallowed it and therefore destroyed any evidence. He was then held until he could pass the drugs from his system -- which miraculously did not occur when his fecal sample was then sent for analysis, thanks to some help from his fellow inmates. Because of the costs incurred during this debacle, Kuti proclaimed his excrement as Expensive Shit. Musically, the Afro-funk and tribal rhythms that Kuti and his Africa '70 put down can rightfully be compared to that of James Brown or even a George Clinton-esque vibe. The beats are infectious with a hint of Latin influence, making the music nearly impossible to keep from moving to. Although the band is large, it is also remarkably tight and malleable enough to accompany and punctuate Kuti's vehement and indicting lyrics. The nature of what Kuti says, as well as infers, amounts to much more than simply whining or bad-rapping the law. His witty and thoughtful raps not only relate his side of the incident, but do so with tongue-in-cheek humor -- such as the statement that his oppressors must really enjoy his feces because they want to examine it so urgently. Yet, he tries to stay away from it, for somewhat obvious reasons. The album's B-side contains the metaphysical "Water No Get Enemy." This is a comparatively jazzy piece, with Africa '70 again exploring and stretching out its impulsive beats behind Kuti's singing. The track features some of his finest and most inspired keyboard work as well. He weaves hypnotic and ethereal electric piano lines over the earthy-sounding brass section. The laid-back groove works well in contrast to the manic tempo of "Expensive Shit."
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:04 (thirteen years ago)
One more to come tonight then another 20 tomorrow.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:11 (thirteen years ago)
161. FUNKADELIC Let’s Take It To The Stage (1474 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #141 for 1975http://www.silverdisc.com/images/64/646315120714.jpghttps://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTVBdN2Svy1X5Pu0od2C_dGSgPKJgpwh-GLHRT17BTdZinXNiHvhttps://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRtJN4Mb7WYwQqZz-J35ei8-CNvw9uvoM4Q7LjdHOC-jJuzHEEShttp://acerecords.co.uk/images/CDSEWM-244b.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/649pOdpJOvuMU34mXga9xMspotify:album:649pOdpJOvuMU34mXga9xM
The group that makes the Ohio Players sound like the Mike Curb Congregation still has a disturbingly occultish bent--"free from the need to be free," indeed. But at this point I'm inclined to trust the music, which is tough-minded, outlandish, very danceable, and finally, I think (and hope), liberating. Including a Stevie Wonder ripoff and a Jimi Hendrix impression and a Black Sabbath love song and a long Bach organ coda ("Atmosphere," by Clinton-Shider-Worrell) over a rap that begins: "I hate the word pussy, it sounds awful squishy, so I guess I'll call it clit." A- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Ned RaggettOne of Funkadelic's goofiest releases, Let's Take It to the Stage also contains more P-Funk all-time greats as well, making for a grand balance of the serious and silly. Perhaps the silliest is at the end -- there's not much else one can call the extended oompah/icing rink start of "Atmosphere." The title track is as much a call to arms as "Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow" is, but with a more direct musical performance and a more open nod to party atmospheres (not to mention the source of one of Andrew Dice Clay's longest-running bits). The targets of the band's good-natured wrath are, in fact, other groups -- "Hey, Fool and the Gang! Let's take it to the stage!" There's no mistaking the track that immediately follows makes it even more intense -- "Get off Your Ass and Jam" kicks in with one bad-ass drum roll and then scorches the damn place down, from guitar solo to the insanely funky bass from Cordell "Boogie" Mosson. It may only be two and a half minutes long, but it alone makes the album a classic. Hearing Bootsy Collins' unmistakable vocals is usually enough to get anything on the crazy tip, but "Be My Beach" (Collins' Funkadelic vocal debut) just makes it all the more fun, as does the overall air of silly romance getting nuttier as it goes. "Good to Your Earhole" sets the outrageous mood just right -- it's one of the band's tightest monsters of funk, guitars sprawling all over the place even as the heavy-hitting rhythm doesn't let one second of groove get lost. Of course, there's also one totally notorious number to go with it, but "No Head No Backstage Pass" has one of the craziest rhythms on the whole album, not to mention lip-smackingly nutty lines delivered with the appropriate leer.
One of Funkadelic's goofiest releases, Let's Take It to the Stage also contains more P-Funk all-time greats as well, making for a grand balance of the serious and silly. Perhaps the silliest is at the end -- there's not much else one can call the extended oompah/icing rink start of "Atmosphere." The title track is as much a call to arms as "Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow" is, but with a more direct musical performance and a more open nod to party atmospheres (not to mention the source of one of Andrew Dice Clay's longest-running bits). The targets of the band's good-natured wrath are, in fact, other groups -- "Hey, Fool and the Gang! Let's take it to the stage!" There's no mistaking the track that immediately follows makes it even more intense -- "Get off Your Ass and Jam" kicks in with one bad-ass drum roll and then scorches the damn place down, from guitar solo to the insanely funky bass from Cordell "Boogie" Mosson. It may only be two and a half minutes long, but it alone makes the album a classic. Hearing Bootsy Collins' unmistakable vocals is usually enough to get anything on the crazy tip, but "Be My Beach" (Collins' Funkadelic vocal debut) just makes it all the more fun, as does the overall air of silly romance getting nuttier as it goes. "Good to Your Earhole" sets the outrageous mood just right -- it's one of the band's tightest monsters of funk, guitars sprawling all over the place even as the heavy-hitting rhythm doesn't let one second of groove get lost. Of course, there's also one totally notorious number to go with it, but "No Head No Backstage Pass" has one of the craziest rhythms on the whole album, not to mention lip-smackingly nutty lines delivered with the appropriate leer.
Track Listing:Good To Your Earhole {G Clinton, Grace Cook, Clarence Haskins} 4:30 lyricsBetter By The Pound {G Clinton, G Cook} 2:40 lyricsBe My Beach {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 2:35 lyricsNo Head No Backstage Pass {G Clinton, Ron Bykowski} 2:36 lyricsLet's Take It To The Stage {G Clinton, W Collins, Garry Shider} 3:32 lyricsGet Off Your Ass And Jam {G Clinton} 2:00 lyricsBaby I Owe You Something Good {G Clinton} 5:43 lyricsStuffs And Things {G Clinton, G Cook} 2:11 lyricsThe Song Is Familiar {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:05 lyricsAtmosphere {G Clinton, G Shider, B Worrell} 7:05 lyricsPersonnel:Vocals: 'Cool' Cal Simon, 'Bad Bosco' Bernie Worrell, C 'Boogie' Mosson, Garry 'Dowop' Shider Bass Vocals: 'Sting' Ray DavisGenie Vocals: 'Shady' Grady ThomasWerewolf Vocals: Clarence 'Fuzzy' HaskinsMaggot Overlord: George ClintonCongas: Calvin SimonKeyboards: Bernie WorrellBass: C Boogie MossonPercussion: R Tiki FulwoodGuitar: Michael Hampton, Garry ShiderAlumni Funkadelic: Bootsy (vocals), Billy Bass, Eddie Hazel, Ron BykowskiGuest Funkadelic: Paul Warren, Reggie McBride, Frosty, Mello Garcia, Honeys, Denise Hurd, Delores whats-her-name, Gary Cooper, ParliamentSong-Specific Personnel: "Better By the Pound"Lead Vocals: Gary Shider, Eddie HazelBass: Billy Nelson "Be My Beach"Lead Vocals: Bootsy Collins "No Head No Backstage Pass"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "Let's Take It To The Stage"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "Baby I Owe You Something Good"Lead Vocals: Calvin Simon "Stuffs and Things"Lead Vocals: Gary Shider, George ClintonBackup Vocals: Parliament, Brandy (Telma Hopkins, Joyce Vincent)Guitars: Gary Shider, Michael HamptonRating: GZ ***** RC ***** MM ***** MV: *****Comments:RC: Funkadelic takes yet another different turn, this time coming out with shorter, punchier songs and relying less on long jams. The percussion on this album is excellent throughout. Garry Shider becomes a big force as he sings a number of the songs on the record. The guitars are slightly less dominant here, stepping aside somewhat for the vocals, percussion and keyboards. Still, the solos taken at the end of "Better By The Pound" & "Good To Your Earhole", along with the songs "No Head No Backstage Pass" & "Get Off Your Ass And Jam" show that Funkadelic is still primarily a guitar band.But hearing the brushes at the beginning of "Better By The Pound", the singing on "The Song is Familiar" (which is the album's weakest track), and the keyboard madness of "Atmosphere" show that the spirit of experimentation was alive and well. The album's themes touch on modern society ("Better By The Pound"), bizarre love/lust stories (the hilariously clever "Be My Beach" and the coolness of Garry on "Stuffs & Thangs"), and self- referential funk stories (playing the dozens with "Let's Take It To The Stage", letting the groupies know the price of hanging out backstage in "No Head...", the funk declaration of "Good To Your Earhole" and the anthemic "Get Off Your Ass...").It loses steam towards the end with the too-mellow "Song Is Familiar" and the overlong but interesting Bernie workout "Atmosphere", but everything else is perfect and makes up for any minor flaws. The album's short-song formula backfires slightly against the longer songs, making them seem somewhat out of place, but the songs themselves are actually fine once one gets used to them. The buried lyrics to "Atmosphere" are hilariously X-rated!At the beginning of "Let's Take It To The Stage" the little backwards noise at the beginning is someone saying, "Oh yeah!" And once again, "G Cook" is an Eddie Hazel pseudonym.
Good To Your Earhole {G Clinton, Grace Cook, Clarence Haskins} 4:30 lyricsBetter By The Pound {G Clinton, G Cook} 2:40 lyricsBe My Beach {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 2:35 lyricsNo Head No Backstage Pass {G Clinton, Ron Bykowski} 2:36 lyricsLet's Take It To The Stage {G Clinton, W Collins, Garry Shider} 3:32 lyricsGet Off Your Ass And Jam {G Clinton} 2:00 lyricsBaby I Owe You Something Good {G Clinton} 5:43 lyricsStuffs And Things {G Clinton, G Cook} 2:11 lyricsThe Song Is Familiar {G Clinton, W Collins, B Worrell} 3:05 lyricsAtmosphere {G Clinton, G Shider, B Worrell} 7:05 lyrics
Vocals: 'Cool' Cal Simon, 'Bad Bosco' Bernie Worrell, C 'Boogie' Mosson, Garry 'Dowop' Shider Bass Vocals: 'Sting' Ray DavisGenie Vocals: 'Shady' Grady ThomasWerewolf Vocals: Clarence 'Fuzzy' HaskinsMaggot Overlord: George ClintonCongas: Calvin SimonKeyboards: Bernie WorrellBass: C Boogie MossonPercussion: R Tiki FulwoodGuitar: Michael Hampton, Garry Shider
Alumni Funkadelic: Bootsy (vocals), Billy Bass, Eddie Hazel, Ron Bykowski
Guest Funkadelic: Paul Warren, Reggie McBride, Frosty, Mello Garcia, Honeys, Denise Hurd, Delores whats-her-name, Gary Cooper, Parliament
Song-Specific Personnel:
"Better By the Pound"Lead Vocals: Gary Shider, Eddie HazelBass: Billy Nelson
"Be My Beach"Lead Vocals: Bootsy Collins
"No Head No Backstage Pass"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"Let's Take It To The Stage"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"Baby I Owe You Something Good"Lead Vocals: Calvin Simon
"Stuffs and Things"Lead Vocals: Gary Shider, George ClintonBackup Vocals: Parliament, Brandy (Telma Hopkins, Joyce Vincent)Guitars: Gary Shider, Michael Hampton
Rating: GZ ***** RC ***** MM ***** MV: *****
RC: Funkadelic takes yet another different turn, this time coming out with shorter, punchier songs and relying less on long jams. The percussion on this album is excellent throughout. Garry Shider becomes a big force as he sings a number of the songs on the record. The guitars are slightly less dominant here, stepping aside somewhat for the vocals, percussion and keyboards. Still, the solos taken at the end of "Better By The Pound" & "Good To Your Earhole", along with the songs "No Head No Backstage Pass" & "Get Off Your Ass And Jam" show that Funkadelic is still primarily a guitar band.
But hearing the brushes at the beginning of "Better By The Pound", the singing on "The Song is Familiar" (which is the album's weakest track), and the keyboard madness of "Atmosphere" show that the spirit of experimentation was alive and well. The album's themes touch on modern society ("Better By The Pound"), bizarre love/lust stories (the hilariously clever "Be My Beach" and the coolness of Garry on "Stuffs & Thangs"), and self- referential funk stories (playing the dozens with "Let's Take It To The Stage", letting the groupies know the price of hanging out backstage in "No Head...", the funk declaration of "Good To Your Earhole" and the anthemic "Get Off Your Ass...").
It loses steam towards the end with the too-mellow "Song Is Familiar" and the overlong but interesting Bernie workout "Atmosphere", but everything else is perfect and makes up for any minor flaws. The album's short-song formula backfires slightly against the longer songs, making them seem somewhat out of place, but the songs themselves are actually fine once one gets used to them. The buried lyrics to "Atmosphere" are hilariously X-rated!
At the beginning of "Let's Take It To The Stage" the little backwards noise at the beginning is someone saying, "Oh yeah!" And once again, "G Cook" is an Eddie Hazel pseudonym.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:20 (thirteen years ago)
Brilliant essential album and it wont surprise you to find out that its my favourite LP artwork of all time.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:22 (thirteen years ago)
that Fela album got a vote from me, great stuff
― Neil S, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:28 (thirteen years ago)
Dragnet was my #2, in the poll and in life
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Friday, 22 March 2013 21:40 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:41 (thirteen years ago)
This was a great run. That Meters album is classic, two of the most underrated Parliament albums and Rufusized which is just such a great album. Let's Take it to the Stage is good album too, happy to see that one do well. Looks like P Funk is really going to takeover this list.
Secondhand Daylight is my least favourite of the first three Magazine albums but it's still a great album. The Thin Air and Back to Nature are all time.
― Kitchen Person, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:48 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah there's no doubt we're into the great stuff now.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 21:59 (thirteen years ago)
really? I think there's been great stuff and not so great stuff pretty evenly distributed throughout the entire list so far.
― wk, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:12 (thirteen years ago)
damn, I always ignored Let's Take it to the Stage, thinking it was a live album. this is great.
― wk, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:15 (thirteen years ago)
There's been lots of great stuff (and Rush) so far
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:15 (thirteen years ago)
The Parachute RS "Album of the Year" thing is a myth. I went through the RS DVDs (all the issues up through 2007), and not only was Parachute not voted "album of the year," it was never even reviewed.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Friday, 22 March 2013 22:18 (thirteen years ago)
Parachute Album of The Year?
Richie Unterberger mentions it in an Allmusic Guide Review. Alwyn Turner mentions it in Rough Music Guide. Those are the only references I could easily find.
unrelated, while scanning the discography (for pretty things) in the back of "Stranded", Marcus thinks "Do Anything You Wanna Do" was by The Rods, not Eddie and the Hot Rods. Mistakes happened in the old days.
― Zachary Taylor, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:34 (thirteen years ago)
I'm not surprised about Parachute. I wonder who started that myth? It does blow my mind that an album with so many similarities to Abbey Road wouldn't be more widely popular. There's of course a cult following, and it has seen a couple nice deluxe re-issues this past decade. (What are these DVDs you speak of?)
Most of this last batch rates pretty high for me. My favorite is Clear Spot, of course!
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:36 (thirteen years ago)
I love Parachute, discovered it last year after knowing SF Sorrow for a while. Though it isn't remotely rocking or weird, 'Grass' is a really lovely song.
― Gavin, Leeds, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:43 (thirteen years ago)
I'm not sure RS even had critics polls before 1977!
― Fastnbulbous, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:44 (thirteen years ago)
what a bizarre turn of events!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:45 (thirteen years ago)
(What are these DVDs you speak of?)
these dealies
As for how the myth got started,
In 1975, Rolling Stone critic Steve Turner even wrote that it had been "a Rolling Stone 'album of the year',"[3] though in fact Parachute did not place among the magazine's Albums of the Year for 1970[4] or 1971,[5] and indeed was not mentioned in Rolling Stone until Stephen Holden called it an "obscure underground classic" in his review of Freeway Madness.[6]
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Friday, 22 March 2013 22:48 (thirteen years ago)
the placement of hard rock, punk, metal, etc. has me really confused. there are a bunch of albums by alice cooper, judas priest, cheap trick, deep purple, james gang, germs, fall, etc. that should easily be in any top 100 list of '70s rock albums. obviously some of those are affected by vote splitting (sabbath and hawkwind records are suffering from that for sure) but not all of them are. I can't tell if people on ilm just don't like that stuff, or if there's going to be a bunch of rediscovered stoner rock faves like Dust, Cactus, Pentagram, etc. high up on the list instead of the more obvious and popular stuff, or what.
― wk, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:49 (thirteen years ago)
or it could just be the fans of those bands dont like polls and didn't vote.
Or they tried to only go with 1 album per band (and as you said vote splitting would occur)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:53 (thirteen years ago)
xp I didn't vote for any of those, soz. Maybe this poll will finally help me overcome my hard rock blind spot.
― honest st john (wins), Friday, 22 March 2013 22:54 (thirteen years ago)
And it could just be ppl are sick of these albums and tried to hear new stuff before voting
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 22:54 (thirteen years ago)
But the most likely answer is it's ILM
but because it wasn't just a straight rock poll or heavy rock poll I'm hoping that fans of particular genres will check out the albums from other genres. It's good to see people checking out some funk outside of the usual albums. If residents fans check out heavy rock metal and sabbath/zep fans check out Ohio Players or Guru Guru that would be great. Its annoying that some music fans just stick to their old faves or dont get out of their comfort zone. Hoping these polls can change that for some ilxors at least. No point in dismissing large swathes of genres like Xgau does.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:05 (thirteen years ago)
expensive shit was either my #1 or my #2 overall. i don't remember which.
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:09 (thirteen years ago)
It was your #1
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:10 (thirteen years ago)
yeah, amazing album. that and zombie are the highest fela kuti peaks imo
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:11 (thirteen years ago)
that's the first one I bought and the only one I've really listened to extensively. didn't know it was considered a peak. everything I've heard sounds pretty consistently great though which makes his discography really intimidating.
― wk, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:14 (thirteen years ago)
yeah zombie's always been my peak fela, i think i have original sufferhead and shuffering and shmiling. alot of that is colored by what i was able to get my hands on when though.
― balls, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:15 (thirteen years ago)
The Fela musical is touring the US right now and is fucking spectacular.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Friday, 22 March 2013 23:19 (thirteen years ago)
we were an impulsive decision away from buying tickets for it in philly last weekend but the prices were really high :/ i have heard great things tho
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:25 (thirteen years ago)
You have plenty of funk to check out again today because of the poll mordy
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:29 (thirteen years ago)
i kno. i'm never caught up no matter how much music i listen to
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:35 (thirteen years ago)
i think i have original sufferhead and shuffering and shmiling right behind it rather
― balls, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:37 (thirteen years ago)
i think i voted sufferhead + shuffering #3
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:51 (thirteen years ago)
or shuffering + shmiling #3 rather
there are at least as much insanely good deep crate afrobeat + highlife albums as funk albums i gotta think - could easily be a poll.
― Mordy, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:54 (thirteen years ago)
my ballot was all rawk, kinda annoyed that this poll means there won't be an ilx 70s funk poll or ilx 70s r&b poll or ilx afrobeat poll, genres had enough depth and quality to warrant their own polls instead of having a few token selections folded into rock poll imo. luckily brazilian music was ignored for reasons i don't quite fathom (ag hates it i guess?) so there can still be a tropicalia and mpb poll sometime down the road.
― balls, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:56 (thirteen years ago)
I dont hate Brazilian music! And there would have been about 10-20 ballots max for a funk poll. It was a no goer.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Friday, 22 March 2013 23:58 (thirteen years ago)
Probably would not have got near 20.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:06 (thirteen years ago)
funk fans like shakey didn't even vote in this poll.
btw folks remember to subscribe to the full results playlisthttp://open.spotify.com/user/olken2000/playlist/5sdu93N2DjKkDk0NMe6sFHspotify:user:olken2000:playlist:5sdu93N2DjKkDk0NMe6sFH
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:08 (thirteen years ago)
I don't get the weirdness about poll scheduling. why can't people just organize polls whenever they want to? for that matter why are there all of these individual artist polls which could easily be done with the built-in ilx poll function and just seem totally pointless to me personally.
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:14 (thirteen years ago)
the artist ones are the only ones with a queue.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:20 (thirteen years ago)
but no point in doing a poll unless you know a decent amount will take part. Even if a genre seems popular sometimes the ilxors into it aren't the voting kind.
The polls ilx likes most are the EOY ILM Poll. That gets a great cross section of ILM voting and a terrific amount of comments.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:26 (thirteen years ago)
oh, I thought all polls had to get in line. why couldn't there be a 70s funk or afrobeat poll then? other than the fact that very few people probably have enough knowledge on the subject to actually vote in an afrobeat poll!
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:28 (thirteen years ago)
Id love to see70s funk/soul pollFolk pollreggae/dub/ska etc pollBlues pollClassical poll
but the reason they have never happened is I dont think anyone believes it would get a lot of participation.
well a folk poll might but i wont ever do it as i know nothing about it. Mordy is the folker round here. Same goes for the other 3 genres i mentioned.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:31 (thirteen years ago)
― Zachary Taylor
I don't think Get the Picture? and Emotions were even released in the U.S. at the time. There was a version of the first album on Fontana and S.F. Sorrow was apparently released on Rare Earth, but I've never seen one.
― timellison, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:32 (thirteen years ago)
At the time of release, I mean.
I've seen a Rare Earth S.F. Sorrow; and apparently, it took over a year for it to be released in the US.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:33 (thirteen years ago)
well you answered your own question really. Though if you dont get in line you run the risk of those who do artist polls not taking part. Which is why I checked with wmc before doing the 80s poll and getting his blessing. And these polls obv aren't artist polls. But I believe after that 80s poll some did sign up to do genre polls on that thread. (viceroy signed up for an extreme metal poll)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:33 (thirteen years ago)
i thought the queue committee was ridiculous when it was first broached but think it's fairly necessary now. there are times i think ilm could do two polls at the same time and then there are times i don't have enough time to deal w/ the one poll that's happening (eg miles).
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:39 (thirteen years ago)
when voting was going on for this the madonna poll was going on so most weren't doing both (except you). Not surprising really.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:41 (thirteen years ago)
Anyway those polls are more about people posting about their fave songs by fave acts. This poll is more for introducing lesser known stuff (hence length of rollout/rules etc) .
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:53 (thirteen years ago)
I would vote in a Folk poll and reggae/dub/ska etc poll
I don't understand the point of something like a madonna poll. is anyone going to discover a madonna song they didn't know existed?
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:53 (thirteen years ago)
they had terrific fun on it thats the point. It had loads and loads of chat.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:57 (thirteen years ago)
and maybe people found out about different mixes or album tracks they didn't know.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 00:58 (thirteen years ago)
It's fun just to see what people like.
― timellison, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:00 (thirteen years ago)
yeah some ppl actually remember when ilm was built around discussion beyond a crowd sourced version of a record store mailing list. are ppl actually discovering stuff in this poll??? i can see it as inspiration to check out an album you haven't bothered w/ in forever but really seems like the various rolling threads are where to go for discoveries.
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:01 (thirteen years ago)
I've got the Rare Earth(Motown) The Pretty Things/"Real Pretty" from 1976. One disc of SF Sorrow, and one disc of Parachute. It's a used cutout bought at Half-Price books sometime in the '90s.
It wasn't until my internet period that I bothered to give the music a serious listen.
― Zachary Taylor, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:03 (thirteen years ago)
are ppl actually discovering stuff in this poll??? i can see it as inspiration to check out an album you haven't bothered w/ in forever but really seems like the various rolling threads are where to go for discoveries.
you havent been reading all of the thread have you? Loads have said they have been discovering new stuff plus a bunch of others heard a lot of new stuff in voting period.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:05 (thirteen years ago)
i discovered high tide so i guess i'm fronting too. i've enjoyed the xgau clips, he's got his blind spots (though even then he's often hilarious eg. "I've been worried something like this was going to happen since the first time I saw a numerology column in an underground newspaper" in regards to the first sabbath lp) but it's a smart at the time take (even if occasionally you can tell he was grasping at straws for a description - eg. boston, who were possibly responsible for the term aor being invented at least beyond a radio sense). wish there was more bangs or meltzer or marcus when that was available. enjoy the rs reviews as a context of general critical cw plus you get the occasionally fun byline (i'm guessing lenny kaye is gonna be the only person to write a blurb in this poll and be on one of the records that place). i'll definitely be consulting w/ this list when i'm trying to think of something to listen to - is anyone bothering w/ a spotify playlist?
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:14 (thirteen years ago)
TBH this poll (which I didn't actually vote in cos I'm a lazy shit) has been a huge eye-opener for me, I'm familiar with most of the bands but I didn't know about a load of the albums and if people rate them enough to vote them higher than Pure Mania by The Vibrators then they must be awesome!
― Just noise and screaming and no musical value at all. (Colonel Poo), Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:16 (thirteen years ago)
you really havent been reading! Moodles started a playlist
http://open.spotify.com/user/olken2000/playlist/5sdu93N2DjKkDk0NMe6sFHspotify:user:olken2000:playlist:5sdu93N2DjKkDk0NMe6sFH
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:17 (thirteen years ago)
yeah i think i was hoping this would stay pure rawk so that the surely multitude ilxors who know their foghat could tell me where to start and where to finish instead of me having to do it myself early on a friday night (for the record: foghat - surprisingly solid band! goofier, dumber (MUCH dumber) mott the hoople maybe. fool for the city is a pretty damn good album and let me tell you - when 'slow ride' pop up, well, it's a moment brother, it's a moment).
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:20 (thirteen years ago)
cos of this poll i bought a ted nungent cd today ..
of course it was in a local charity shop ...
but still ..
― mark e, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:23 (thirteen years ago)
sadly some of the rawk fans chose not to vote. But you can always ask skot!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:23 (thirteen years ago)
which one mark?
the one listed above ? cat scratch fever ..
― mark e, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:24 (thirteen years ago)
you should finish Foghat with the "Third Time Lucky" from Boogie Motel. It's in a class with Climax Blues Band's "I Love You".
― Zachary Taylor, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:26 (thirteen years ago)
sincere thx for the tip. somehow i'm having a foghat friday.
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:29 (thirteen years ago)
better having a Funky Friday if you ask me
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 01:39 (thirteen years ago)
which we are doing in plug.dj/ilxors
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 02:09 (thirteen years ago)
btw The Pretty Things "Parachute" was album of the year in Stereo Review magazine. The RS writer must have mixed it up with his own magazine in 1975.
― gentle german fatherly voice (President Keyes), Saturday, 23 March 2013 02:13 (thirteen years ago)
haha
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 03:56 (thirteen years ago)
aaaaaaand the full Spotify playlist is all caught up through Let's Take It To The Stage.
Sadly, there are quite a few albums that are not available in the US version.
― Moodles, Saturday, 23 March 2013 05:55 (thirteen years ago)
Classical poll
Seems like too broad of a category (unless by "Classical", you actually mean the period from approximately 1750-1820).
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 23 March 2013 06:07 (thirteen years ago)
I would kind of be interested in a poll that put modern/experimental/avant-garde 'classical' against the traditional canon.
― emil.y, Saturday, 23 March 2013 11:38 (thirteen years ago)
God no, save us from more ludicrously over-arching polls that go up to 500 (ridiculous) and are so unwieldy THEY ARE CRASHING MY FECKIN' BROWSER! So because I can't open the thread fully I don't even know if this monster is over yet. Well done to AG/PF for doing all this but I'm afraid it's far too anal and too much like hard work even for me.
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Saturday, 23 March 2013 12:00 (thirteen years ago)
Wait, who said I wanted that poll to go to 500?
― emil.y, Saturday, 23 March 2013 12:14 (thirteen years ago)
Well you didn't and I'm hoping it never happens again!
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Saturday, 23 March 2013 12:19 (thirteen years ago)
I might be interested in this in the context of e.g. a poll about string quartets or operas or symphonies or piano sonatas etc. But including every Western art music genre from the medieval era to the present day in a single poll does seem broad to me.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 23 March 2013 13:52 (thirteen years ago)
Btw, the appeal of the Led Zeppelin ballot poll for me was that it got me to pull out and listen to all those albums with a current perspective and discuss their finer points.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 23 March 2013 15:11 (thirteen years ago)
Yes, if you've got the time to do it that is - and the band/artist have got a reasonable small discography
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Saturday, 23 March 2013 15:16 (thirteen years ago)
Well, yeah, I didn't attempt to tackle all of Miles Davis's discography.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 23 March 2013 15:19 (thirteen years ago)
This is seriously crashing peoples' browsers in 2013? Sad.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 16:03 (thirteen years ago)
It doesn't crash my browser but it takes forever to load.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Saturday, 23 March 2013 16:08 (thirteen years ago)
160. BAD BRAINS Black Dots (1476 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #2301 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/143/MI0002143989.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6xhmQ9CwgYxj5NiTkNovbuspotify:album:6xhmQ9CwgYxj5NiTkNovbu
Turn a fusion band into hardcore propheteers and you end up with fast heavy metal. The best kind for damn sure, especially since they turn their rage into Positive Mental Attitude. I like it fine. But great punks give up more than a salubrious blur. B+ -- R. ChristgauOn the Bad Brains cassette album (and the four-song Bad Brains EP excerpted from it), the quartet excels in both fields: loping, Rastafarian reggae ("I Luv I Jah," "Leaving Babylon," "Jah Calling") and powerhouse political slam-rock (a re-recorded "Pay to Cum," "Banned in D.C.," "Big Takeover"). The album was later reissued on CD under the title Attitude and later on vinyl as Bad Brains -- Trouser Press
On the Bad Brains cassette album (and the four-song Bad Brains EP excerpted from it), the quartet excels in both fields: loping, Rastafarian reggae ("I Luv I Jah," "Leaving Babylon," "Jah Calling") and powerhouse political slam-rock (a re-recorded "Pay to Cum," "Banned in D.C.," "Big Takeover"). The album was later reissued on CD under the title Attitude and later on vinyl as Bad Brains -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Ned RaggettSurfacing out of nowhere in 1996, Black Dots turned out to be an archival release of the best kind, something truly rare and unheard that also captured a band at its best. The liner notes explain the origins of the release: In 1979, fellow DC locals the Slickee Boys heard an even earlier rehearsal tape from the Brains and suggested hooking up with now-legendary DC producer Don Zientara, who had recently opened his Inner Ear Studios in his house. The group duly booked time, set up in the fledging venue and put on a commanding performance. Nearly all the legendary early hits are here, including "Pay to Cum," "Don't Need It," "Regulator," "Banned in D.C.," "How Low Can a Punk Get?" and "Attitude," while a number of otherwise unheard or never-recorded elsewhere numbers make Black Dots easily the equal of the ROIR cassette. Some of the changes and quirks are really fun -- H.R.'s mock-cockney sneer throughout a number of songs is one of the last things probably anybody expected to hear. Aside from "new" oldie "The Man Won't Annoy Ya," the reggae side of the band went largely by the boards this time around, aside from the reedy inflections HR throws in from time to time. Instead it's all monster-rock power -- Dr. Know plays like a man possessed, Darryl Aaron Jenifer does it low and loud, while Earl Hudson overcomes for the slightly hollow drum sound with sheer manic smashes and just enough control. Absolutely necessary for Brains fans or anyone who appreciates the power of live, loud electric music.
Surfacing out of nowhere in 1996, Black Dots turned out to be an archival release of the best kind, something truly rare and unheard that also captured a band at its best. The liner notes explain the origins of the release: In 1979, fellow DC locals the Slickee Boys heard an even earlier rehearsal tape from the Brains and suggested hooking up with now-legendary DC producer Don Zientara, who had recently opened his Inner Ear Studios in his house. The group duly booked time, set up in the fledging venue and put on a commanding performance. Nearly all the legendary early hits are here, including "Pay to Cum," "Don't Need It," "Regulator," "Banned in D.C.," "How Low Can a Punk Get?" and "Attitude," while a number of otherwise unheard or never-recorded elsewhere numbers make Black Dots easily the equal of the ROIR cassette. Some of the changes and quirks are really fun -- H.R.'s mock-cockney sneer throughout a number of songs is one of the last things probably anybody expected to hear. Aside from "new" oldie "The Man Won't Annoy Ya," the reggae side of the band went largely by the boards this time around, aside from the reedy inflections HR throws in from time to time. Instead it's all monster-rock power -- Dr. Know plays like a man possessed, Darryl Aaron Jenifer does it low and loud, while Earl Hudson overcomes for the slightly hollow drum sound with sheer manic smashes and just enough control. Absolutely necessary for Brains fans or anyone who appreciates the power of live, loud electric music.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 16:43 (thirteen years ago)
The crappy sound of the ROIR tapes always bugged me. It's been a while since I listened to Black Dots, but I think some of the songs sound better. Ironic, as they were earlier sessions.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 16:58 (thirteen years ago)
159. SIR LORD BALTIMORE Kingdom Come (1511 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #89 for 1970 , #2635 overallhttp://ring.cdandlp.com/paskale/photo_grande/114599835.jpg
One of the grimy grails of metal's ancient years, Sir Lord Baltimore were an unruly bunch of Brooklyners whose distinction is the band's considerable and horrific heaviness circa 1970, the year metal was invented in a big way. Couldn't really include these guys in the visionary wing of the Hallowed Hall of the Metal Grill, the band owing more to Hendrix and crusty older Zep (and Yardbirds) than the likes of Deep purple's In Rock. But still, you gotta give this trio of Marshall stack of pancakes, at least for their loopy upratchet on Hendrix, making better songs with more zesty Italian than Jimi's often melted psychedelia. I mean there's almost art hidden in these damp basement grooves, a sort of open architecture disdain for logic, while guitars keep up their endo f the deal, but-punching the listener, preparing him for the inevitable arrival of say, Master of Reality next year. File with Mountain, Bang and Dust and fratntic, fried and riffy with an eye or two cast to riffs build from blues, riffs building on psych and riffs flying from blown Detroit wheels. -- M. Popoff All you true blue Heavy fans, take heart. This album is a crusher. Sure enough, Sir Lord Baltimore is none other than a new heavy band discovered by Dee Anthony, Who Should Know (Joe Cocker, Free, Humble Pie); and while SLB?s degree of success hasn?t been determined yet, they?ve certainly got what it takes to rake in a million.This album is a far cry from the currently prevalent Grand Funk sludge, because Sir Lord Baltimore seems to have down pat most all the best heavy metal tricks in the book. Precisely, they sound like a mix between the uptempo noiseblasts of Led Zeppelin (instrumentally) and singing that?s like an unending Johnny Winter shriek: they have it all down cold, including medium or uptempo blasts a la LZ, a perfect carbon of early cataclysmic MC5 (?Hard Rain Fallin??), and the one-soft-an-album concept originated by Jimmy Page and his gang. No slow blooze for these guys: ?Excitement is what we?re into?? In addition, ?Jack Bruce has been a major influence on my career? says SLB bassist Garry Justin. Top that, man.As much as I hate heavy music?cock rock, macho rock, or whatever the current name for it is?I have to admit to having every Blue Cheer album ever made, and then to having a peculiar liking for Led Zeppelin II because of its undeniable stupid-rock punch. So just as I was once forced to ponder good bubblegum vs. bad bubblegum because of my irrepressible fondness for ?Indian Giver,? I?d be the first to admit that there?s good Heavy and bad Heavy.Finally then, as for esthetics: if you?re going to listen to heavy music?despite unending putdowns, condescension, and scorn from rock and roll writers and mouldy English Invasion purists like me?why listen to leaden, plodding slop like Free and Grand Funk when you can have a classic slug-you-in-the-gut knockout-your-brains-out efforts like Led Zeppelin II or this album??? Really. Buy Kingdom Come by Sir Lord Baltimore, and be the first on your block to have your brains blown out. -- [Metal] Mike Saunders, CREEM
All you true blue Heavy fans, take heart. This album is a crusher. Sure enough, Sir Lord Baltimore is none other than a new heavy band discovered by Dee Anthony, Who Should Know (Joe Cocker, Free, Humble Pie); and while SLB?s degree of success hasn?t been determined yet, they?ve certainly got what it takes to rake in a million.
This album is a far cry from the currently prevalent Grand Funk sludge, because Sir Lord Baltimore seems to have down pat most all the best heavy metal tricks in the book. Precisely, they sound like a mix between the uptempo noiseblasts of Led Zeppelin (instrumentally) and singing that?s like an unending Johnny Winter shriek: they have it all down cold, including medium or uptempo blasts a la LZ, a perfect carbon of early cataclysmic MC5 (?Hard Rain Fallin??), and the one-soft-an-album concept originated by Jimmy Page and his gang. No slow blooze for these guys: ?Excitement is what we?re into?? In addition, ?Jack Bruce has been a major influence on my career? says SLB bassist Garry Justin. Top that, man.
As much as I hate heavy music?cock rock, macho rock, or whatever the current name for it is?I have to admit to having every Blue Cheer album ever made, and then to having a peculiar liking for Led Zeppelin II because of its undeniable stupid-rock punch. So just as I was once forced to ponder good bubblegum vs. bad bubblegum because of my irrepressible fondness for ?Indian Giver,? I?d be the first to admit that there?s good Heavy and bad Heavy.
Finally then, as for esthetics: if you?re going to listen to heavy music?despite unending putdowns, condescension, and scorn from rock and roll writers and mouldy English Invasion purists like me?why listen to leaden, plodding slop like Free and Grand Funk when you can have a classic slug-you-in-the-gut knockout-your-brains-out efforts like Led Zeppelin II or this album??? Really. Buy Kingdom Come by Sir Lord Baltimore, and be the first on your block to have your brains blown out. -- [Metal] Mike Saunders, CREEM
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaWhen Sir Lord Baltimore released Kingdom Come in 1970, heavy metal was just a twinkle in Black Sabbath's eyes (the Birmingham legends' first album had only just hit record stores), and the term itself was years away from widespread acceptance as the definition of an entire category of rock music. So much so, that present-day listeners might find this album's songs as comparable to those of so-called "early punks" The Stooges or MC5, as they are to other proto-metal outfits like Blue Cheer, Led Zeppelin, and certainly Sabbath themselves. As was the case with every one of these acts, Sir Lord Baltimore's music was fundamentally rooted in unbridled aggression, deafening distortion, and raw power: like Nuggets, the next generation. In other words, there was little finesse to be found in savage album cuts like "Helium Head," "Hard Rain Fallin'," and "Pumped Up" -- just bludgeoning hard rock seemingly ever on the verge of spontaneous self-combustion under the command of vocalist John Garner's wild-eyed, howling, vocal acrobatics. Clues of the group's influence by the classic '60s power trios (Cream, the Jimi Hendrix Experience, etc.) were evident on bluesier, but still reliably tee-total numbers like "I Got a Woman" "Hell Hound," and "Lady of Fire"; while "Master Heartache" was jump-started by a monstrous bassline foreshadowing of Motörhead, and the leaden title track somehow managed to echo both the dying psychedelic movement and emerging doom. Finally, there was album wildcard "Lake Isle of Innersfree": a shockingly sedate and civilized, Baroque combination of harpsichord and 12-string guitars topped by suitably psychedelic lyrics which, not surprisingly, was crafted with the help of the band's managers (namely future Bruce Springsteen Svengali Mike Appel, trivia fans). As well as a true anomaly, the latter hinted at Sir Lord Baltimore's growing stylistic broadening which would both diversify and dilute their second and final album, leaving Kingdom Come to stand the test of time as the band's authoritative work. And, even though it was generally dismissed by critics and misunderstood by listeners of the day (as were Sabbath and The Stooges, of course), the album gradually grew in stature to become one of early heavy metal's best-loved documents, and most consistently sought-out cult items.
When Sir Lord Baltimore released Kingdom Come in 1970, heavy metal was just a twinkle in Black Sabbath's eyes (the Birmingham legends' first album had only just hit record stores), and the term itself was years away from widespread acceptance as the definition of an entire category of rock music. So much so, that present-day listeners might find this album's songs as comparable to those of so-called "early punks" The Stooges or MC5, as they are to other proto-metal outfits like Blue Cheer, Led Zeppelin, and certainly Sabbath themselves. As was the case with every one of these acts, Sir Lord Baltimore's music was fundamentally rooted in unbridled aggression, deafening distortion, and raw power: like Nuggets, the next generation. In other words, there was little finesse to be found in savage album cuts like "Helium Head," "Hard Rain Fallin'," and "Pumped Up" -- just bludgeoning hard rock seemingly ever on the verge of spontaneous self-combustion under the command of vocalist John Garner's wild-eyed, howling, vocal acrobatics. Clues of the group's influence by the classic '60s power trios (Cream, the Jimi Hendrix Experience, etc.) were evident on bluesier, but still reliably tee-total numbers like "I Got a Woman" "Hell Hound," and "Lady of Fire"; while "Master Heartache" was jump-started by a monstrous bassline foreshadowing of Motörhead, and the leaden title track somehow managed to echo both the dying psychedelic movement and emerging doom. Finally, there was album wildcard "Lake Isle of Innersfree": a shockingly sedate and civilized, Baroque combination of harpsichord and 12-string guitars topped by suitably psychedelic lyrics which, not surprisingly, was crafted with the help of the band's managers (namely future Bruce Springsteen Svengali Mike Appel, trivia fans). As well as a true anomaly, the latter hinted at Sir Lord Baltimore's growing stylistic broadening which would both diversify and dilute their second and final album, leaving Kingdom Come to stand the test of time as the band's authoritative work. And, even though it was generally dismissed by critics and misunderstood by listeners of the day (as were Sabbath and The Stooges, of course), the album gradually grew in stature to become one of early heavy metal's best-loved documents, and most consistently sought-out cult items.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:04 (thirteen years ago)
http://open.spotify.com/album/0VfnxBAij0kKr71OK47BBWspotify:artist:5uyHSri6UFtPeZz0XkC4UA
― Moodles, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:10 (thirteen years ago)
US only I guess as we dont have it here
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:12 (thirteen years ago)
yep, I almost feel like there needs to be a US and UK version of the playlist since there's a bunch of stuff that's on one and not the other.
― Moodles, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:14 (thirteen years ago)
158. DR. FEELGOOD Down By The Jetty (1573 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #110 for 1975 , #4619 overall | Acclaimed: #1380http://ring.cdandlp.com/paskale/photo_grande/115135879.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/4p2xgk0fXOFdOLGMnnHOGEspotify:album:4p2xgk0fXOFdOLGMnnHOGE
The band's Johnny Kidd & The Pirates influenced originals ("Keep It Out Of Sight") appear alongside covers material like "Bonie Maronie" and "Tequila". It was Vic Maile's first job as a record producer, having initially become known as an audio engineer, and at Wilko Johnson's insistence was recorded 'live' in the recording studio, rather than using multiple over-dubs. The original album was described as 'mono' by therecord label, as all the music and vocals had deliberately been put in the centre, giving almost no stereo spread. Paul Weller and Bob Geldof have acknowledged the influence of the album, as have Blondie, The Ramones and Richard Hell, who were introduced to the album by Blondie's drummer, Clem Burke -- Wikipedia
review[-] by Bruce EderThe CD reissue of this album is a must-own release, even for those who already have one of the Dr. Feelgood anthologies currently available, neither of which has more than three of the 13 tracks here. The 1975 album, a magnificent first album, recorded in pure mono, has been transferred to CD in exemplary form, a clean, sharp, crunchy, close sound that recalls the sonic textures of the Rolling Stones' first album, even as they cross swords with the Stones' arch-rivals of the era, the Animals, with a superb version of "Boom Boom." Released amid the burgeoning radio presence of acts like Thin Lizzy, Blue Öyster Cult, and Kansas, and the growing self-conscious profundity of Bruce Springsteen, Down by the Jetty was as refreshingly lean as anything the headline-grabbing '70s punks would later loose on the world, and as stripped down as the most basic roots rock. Lee Brilleaux's singing could go up against Eric Burdon's or Cyril Davies, and even take on elements of a thick rasp vaguely reminiscent of Howlin' Wolf (listen closely to "Roxette"), certainly better than Mick Jagger ever did; and guitarist Wilko Johnson could play Jimmy Reed, Chuck Berry, or Bo Diddley licks with equally imposing (and seemingly effortless) virtuosity. This record was one of the great '70s rock & roll albums, right up there with the Groovies' Shake Some Action and anything CCR left listeners, and ran circles around the Rolling Stones' post-Exile on Main Street output. The final cut, a killer live medley of "Bonie Maronie"/"Tequila" with guests Brinsley Schwarz and Bob Andrews blowing saxes, was a taste of what they did on stage with astonishing regularity, and could have sent the Ramones back to the drawing board if the Queens-based quartet had heard it.
The CD reissue of this album is a must-own release, even for those who already have one of the Dr. Feelgood anthologies currently available, neither of which has more than three of the 13 tracks here. The 1975 album, a magnificent first album, recorded in pure mono, has been transferred to CD in exemplary form, a clean, sharp, crunchy, close sound that recalls the sonic textures of the Rolling Stones' first album, even as they cross swords with the Stones' arch-rivals of the era, the Animals, with a superb version of "Boom Boom." Released amid the burgeoning radio presence of acts like Thin Lizzy, Blue Öyster Cult, and Kansas, and the growing self-conscious profundity of Bruce Springsteen, Down by the Jetty was as refreshingly lean as anything the headline-grabbing '70s punks would later loose on the world, and as stripped down as the most basic roots rock. Lee Brilleaux's singing could go up against Eric Burdon's or Cyril Davies, and even take on elements of a thick rasp vaguely reminiscent of Howlin' Wolf (listen closely to "Roxette"), certainly better than Mick Jagger ever did; and guitarist Wilko Johnson could play Jimmy Reed, Chuck Berry, or Bo Diddley licks with equally imposing (and seemingly effortless) virtuosity. This record was one of the great '70s rock & roll albums, right up there with the Groovies' Shake Some Action and anything CCR left listeners, and ran circles around the Rolling Stones' post-Exile on Main Street output. The final cut, a killer live medley of "Bonie Maronie"/"Tequila" with guests Brinsley Schwarz and Bob Andrews blowing saxes, was a taste of what they did on stage with astonishing regularity, and could have sent the Ramones back to the drawing board if the Queens-based quartet had heard it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:16 (thirteen years ago)
157. DEAD BOYS Young, Loud, and Snotty (1575 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #83 for 1977 , #4144 overall | Acclaimed: #2323http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/653/MI0001653751.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6SiRxD9eeJELm4TR8C6MDJspotify:album:6SiRxD9eeJELm4TR8C6MDJ
Despite Stiv Bators's mewl, which can get almost as annoying as Geddy Lee's falsetto, this is mostly well-crafted junk, tough and tuneful and in one case--the definitively deafening "Sonic Reducer"--positively anthemic. But the charm of good junk has always been its innocence, and if these fellows are innocent they're pretty perverse about it--emotional incompetents out of their depth. Alternate title (stolen from Mary Harron): Take My Life--Please. B -- R. ChristgauHailing from Cleveland, not just the home of art-rockers like Pere Ubu and Tin Huey, The Dead Boys ply a stripped-back Stones-y swagger that the square root of Hard Rock. Jimmy Zero's rhythm guitar roars like an over-revved Chevvy while Cheetah Chrome lays on Iommi-esque breakneck solos on lead, all the while Stiv Bators straining like a dog on a leach. "Sonic Reducer" is the highlight but the cover of Nuggets-era classic "Hey Little Girl" by the Syndicate of Sound is also a gas. -- Woebot
Hailing from Cleveland, not just the home of art-rockers like Pere Ubu and Tin Huey, The Dead Boys ply a stripped-back Stones-y swagger that the square root of Hard Rock. Jimmy Zero's rhythm guitar roars like an over-revved Chevvy while Cheetah Chrome lays on Iommi-esque breakneck solos on lead, all the while Stiv Bators straining like a dog on a leach. "Sonic Reducer" is the highlight but the cover of Nuggets-era classic "Hey Little Girl" by the Syndicate of Sound is also a gas. -- Woebot
review[-] by Ned RaggettFellow Cleveland types Pere Ubu may have won the artistic kudos for their adventurous, surprising work, but if the goal was just to rock and rock again, the Dead Boys had them totally trumped. As both title phrase and capsule description, Young, Loud & Snotty accurately defines the predominating aesthetic so well that one could just leave it at that, but there's a lot more going on here than on the face of it. With perhaps surprising great production from demi-famous '70s rocket Genya Ravan, the five-some found something sonically smack in-between the US garage/punk heritage of the past and the more modern thrashings from overseas. Bators sneers, gobs, gasps, and whines with the best of them, but he knows his rock history, as does his bandmates. Zero and Chrome aren't guitar virtuosos, but they do know what makes a song great and aren't afraid to concentrate on that, while the Magnum/Blitz rhythm section keeps things moving as it does. In some ways songs like "All This and More" and "I Need Lunch" simply emerge from an alternate '50s, with admittedly much more feedback and stereo sound. Stone cold rock classic "Sonic Reducer" starts things off -- amusingly -- with all sorts of phased drums and other fripperies that later generations wouldn't consider punk at all. That said, it's still blunt, brilliantly sung by Bators and kicks out the jams with messy energy. Other all-time greats include the perfect bored-and-needing-kicks anthem "Ain't Nothin' to Do" and the thoroughly wrong "Caught With the Meat In Your Mouth." There's even a rock oldie -- a cover of "Hey Little Girl" live onstage at spiritual home CBGB's. And why not? With great punk rock and great rock, Young, Loud and Snotty still packs a punch.
Fellow Cleveland types Pere Ubu may have won the artistic kudos for their adventurous, surprising work, but if the goal was just to rock and rock again, the Dead Boys had them totally trumped. As both title phrase and capsule description, Young, Loud & Snotty accurately defines the predominating aesthetic so well that one could just leave it at that, but there's a lot more going on here than on the face of it. With perhaps surprising great production from demi-famous '70s rocket Genya Ravan, the five-some found something sonically smack in-between the US garage/punk heritage of the past and the more modern thrashings from overseas. Bators sneers, gobs, gasps, and whines with the best of them, but he knows his rock history, as does his bandmates. Zero and Chrome aren't guitar virtuosos, but they do know what makes a song great and aren't afraid to concentrate on that, while the Magnum/Blitz rhythm section keeps things moving as it does. In some ways songs like "All This and More" and "I Need Lunch" simply emerge from an alternate '50s, with admittedly much more feedback and stereo sound. Stone cold rock classic "Sonic Reducer" starts things off -- amusingly -- with all sorts of phased drums and other fripperies that later generations wouldn't consider punk at all. That said, it's still blunt, brilliantly sung by Bators and kicks out the jams with messy energy. Other all-time greats include the perfect bored-and-needing-kicks anthem "Ain't Nothin' to Do" and the thoroughly wrong "Caught With the Meat In Your Mouth." There's even a rock oldie -- a cover of "Hey Little Girl" live onstage at spiritual home CBGB's. And why not? With great punk rock and great rock, Young, Loud and Snotty still packs a punch.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
Too fucking low. Dead Boys rule. The "younger louder snottier" mix is worth getting too.
― BlackIronPrison, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:35 (thirteen years ago)
Guess you can't rely on Spotify for everything. Historic Creem interview, too bad there isn't more of their content available, but they and Rocksbackpages got that shit locked down.
http://youtu.be/UdSp-0WsyDs
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:36 (thirteen years ago)
gah, Review, not interview
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:37 (thirteen years ago)
156. SPIRIT Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus (1576 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #35 for 1970 , #904 overall | Acclaimed: #1067http://www.chartstats.com/images/artwork/25402.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0NWXyLhHhaeAmu4eovC8Ksspotify:album:0NWXyLhHhaeAmu4eovC8Ks
Both Randy California and the band have their own cool, rich, jazzy style--a genuine achievement, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. They play better than they write, and since they still play songs, that's a problem. A worse problem is that the lyrics are rarely as cerebral as the music. "Nature's Way," for instance, sounds as if it ought to be sardonicus, but though I'm intrigued by the suggestion that it's about death I still think it's a slightly inarticulate ecology song. Could be covered by Peter, Paul & Mary--who also have their own style. B -- R. ChristgauAny illusions that might still be clung to along the order of Spirit's being an Epic house organ anthropomorphization -- of -- eclecticism shuck, complete with baled-pated, cerebral-looking leftover from the bongo drums and black beret era, should be flushed down the old metaphysical crapper as quickly as one would dispose of just so much Nathan's® chicken chow mein sandwich puke, because this here Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus (a hep reference to William Castle's great 1963 horror flick Mr. Sardonicus, which was about this mick who had his face paralyzed by banshees into a super-hideous grin when he crashed his father's casket to get a winning lottery ticket out of the old geezer's jacket pocket and then went around wearing this creepy plastic mask and bringing women down his cellar to ball except you should've seen the shit that went down whenever he would take off the mask) lay languidly upon the verie steps to Parnassus.Sure, this platter has its share of miscarriages: the embarrassing attempt at a 60-second poetico-emotional knockout (in "Why Can't I Be Free?") with the limp, hack-oid quatrain, "I don't know what it means to be free/And I cry when you say that you can't free me/I just can't go on/Why can't I be free?" the modal satire a clef of which hasn't been witnessed since the Vanilla Fudge bared their souls to God on "Season of the Witch"; there's a frail stab at some dumb kind of sincere-indictment-of-society/Brechtian rock contrivance ("Mr. Skin"); and there's a worthless ditty with a lot of dipshit psychedelic oscillations called "Space Child" (which does, however, have a very tuff dispersal of melodic ostinato at the end). Plus your usual quota of random "bay-beeeeeee's" scattered about at your usual supercilious x-y's. But to badmouth this LP on account of its shortcomings is like chastising the child for watering the rhubarb but forgetting to buy the bacon; such, in sooth, are its apexes.For this reviewer's money, "Nothin' To Hide" is the real humdinger of the set. A beautiful train of expiation-babble that includes such items as the murky, ambiguous incantation of a refrain, "We've got nothing to hide/Married to the same bride," recurring references to various surreal things lurking "in your pants," Baudclairean imperatives to drink alot of beer, and the totally contextually off-the-wall anal/deadpan "fuck" followed by the equally et cetera "seven o'clock" in kitschy three-part harmony during the fulcrum of a really neat guitar solo. There's even this killer Latin reed cuivre movement at the tag that's one pure shot of God's own medicine. Spirit also does, n this their latest effort, the first up-tempo song about biochemical deformation ("Animal Zoo") since the Fugs' "Mutant Stomp" that you can really cut a rug to ("Something went wrong/Why, you're much too fat and a little too long"). There's also a groovy bossa nova about death ("Nature's Way"). And lots more.A blockbuster record... one helluva Liederkranz! -- Nick Tosches, RSBy 1970 southern California's Spirit had recorded three innovative LPs, but their synthesis of rock, classical, and jazz had thus far awoken little interest. Powerful West Coast impresario Lou Adler, who had signed the band to his label Ode in 1968, abandoned them. To top it all, a split had arisen in the camp, between Spirit's main creative forces -- guitar whiz Randy California (who had played with and learned from Jimi Hendrix when both were in the Blue Flames) and singer Jay Ferguson. California championed experiment; Ferguson was after straightforward commerciality.Feelings could not have been worse when Spirit recorded Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus. Luckily, David Briggs, who worked with Neil Young, managed to harness all the animosity into Spirit's masterwork. The album was enriched by meaty horn arrangements ("Morning Will Come"), imaginative vocal harmonies ("Nothin' To Hide"), and a structured approach to psychedelic studio trickery such as stereo panning and tapes run backward. The band experimented with the then new Moog on "Love Has Found A Way" and "Space Child" and unveiled perfect rock singles in "Mr. Skin" and the funky "Animal Zoo" -- still light years ahead of their time. It also spawned a classic FM single, the acoustic treat "Nature's Way."After a New Year's Eve concert at Fillmore East that year, the band split; the album finally went platinum five years later, a belated reward for the superb job done by Briggs and Spirit's original line-up. Oh, and "Dr. Sardonicus?" It is the nickname Spirit coined for the mixing desk at the studio.-- Jaime Gonzalo, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
Any illusions that might still be clung to along the order of Spirit's being an Epic house organ anthropomorphization -- of -- eclecticism shuck, complete with baled-pated, cerebral-looking leftover from the bongo drums and black beret era, should be flushed down the old metaphysical crapper as quickly as one would dispose of just so much Nathan's® chicken chow mein sandwich puke, because this here Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus (a hep reference to William Castle's great 1963 horror flick Mr. Sardonicus, which was about this mick who had his face paralyzed by banshees into a super-hideous grin when he crashed his father's casket to get a winning lottery ticket out of the old geezer's jacket pocket and then went around wearing this creepy plastic mask and bringing women down his cellar to ball except you should've seen the shit that went down whenever he would take off the mask) lay languidly upon the verie steps to Parnassus.
Sure, this platter has its share of miscarriages: the embarrassing attempt at a 60-second poetico-emotional knockout (in "Why Can't I Be Free?") with the limp, hack-oid quatrain, "I don't know what it means to be free/And I cry when you say that you can't free me/I just can't go on/Why can't I be free?" the modal satire a clef of which hasn't been witnessed since the Vanilla Fudge bared their souls to God on "Season of the Witch"; there's a frail stab at some dumb kind of sincere-indictment-of-society/Brechtian rock contrivance ("Mr. Skin"); and there's a worthless ditty with a lot of dipshit psychedelic oscillations called "Space Child" (which does, however, have a very tuff dispersal of melodic ostinato at the end). Plus your usual quota of random "bay-beeeeeee's" scattered about at your usual supercilious x-y's.
But to badmouth this LP on account of its shortcomings is like chastising the child for watering the rhubarb but forgetting to buy the bacon; such, in sooth, are its apexes.For this reviewer's money, "Nothin' To Hide" is the real humdinger of the set. A beautiful train of expiation-babble that includes such items as the murky, ambiguous incantation of a refrain, "We've got nothing to hide/Married to the same bride," recurring references to various surreal things lurking "in your pants," Baudclairean imperatives to drink alot of beer, and the totally contextually off-the-wall anal/deadpan "fuck" followed by the equally et cetera "seven o'clock" in kitschy three-part harmony during the fulcrum of a really neat guitar solo. There's even this killer Latin reed cuivre movement at the tag that's one pure shot of God's own medicine. Spirit also does, n this their latest effort, the first up-tempo song about biochemical deformation ("Animal Zoo") since the Fugs' "Mutant Stomp" that you can really cut a rug to ("Something went wrong/Why, you're much too fat and a little too long"). There's also a groovy bossa nova about death ("Nature's Way"). And lots more.
A blockbuster record... one helluva Liederkranz! -- Nick Tosches, RS
By 1970 southern California's Spirit had recorded three innovative LPs, but their synthesis of rock, classical, and jazz had thus far awoken little interest. Powerful West Coast impresario Lou Adler, who had signed the band to his label Ode in 1968, abandoned them. To top it all, a split had arisen in the camp, between Spirit's main creative forces -- guitar whiz Randy California (who had played with and learned from Jimi Hendrix when both were in the Blue Flames) and singer Jay Ferguson. California championed experiment; Ferguson was after straightforward commerciality.
Feelings could not have been worse when Spirit recorded Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus. Luckily, David Briggs, who worked with Neil Young, managed to harness all the animosity into Spirit's masterwork. The album was enriched by meaty horn arrangements ("Morning Will Come"), imaginative vocal harmonies ("Nothin' To Hide"), and a structured approach to psychedelic studio trickery such as stereo panning and tapes run backward. The band experimented with the then new Moog on "Love Has Found A Way" and "Space Child" and unveiled perfect rock singles in "Mr. Skin" and the funky "Animal Zoo" -- still light years ahead of their time. It also spawned a classic FM single, the acoustic treat "Nature's Way."
After a New Year's Eve concert at Fillmore East that year, the band split; the album finally went platinum five years later, a belated reward for the superb job done by Briggs and Spirit's original line-up. Oh, and "Dr. Sardonicus?" It is the nickname Spirit coined for the mixing desk at the studio.-- Jaime Gonzalo, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
reviewby Richie UnterbergerAlthough Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus has the reputation of being Spirit's most far-out album, it actually contains the most disciplined songwriting and playing of the original lineup, cutting back on some of the drifting and offering some of their more melodic tunes. The lilting "Nature's Way" was the most endearing FM standard on the album, which also included some of Spirit's best songs in "Animal Zoo" and "Mr. Skin." [The 1996 CD reissue has four bonus tracks, though these are on the nonessential side: mono versions of "Animal Zoo" and "Morning Will Come," the 1970 single "Red Light Roll On," and the previously unissued "Rougher Road."]
Although Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus has the reputation of being Spirit's most far-out album, it actually contains the most disciplined songwriting and playing of the original lineup, cutting back on some of the drifting and offering some of their more melodic tunes. The lilting "Nature's Way" was the most endearing FM standard on the album, which also included some of Spirit's best songs in "Animal Zoo" and "Mr. Skin." [The 1996 CD reissue has four bonus tracks, though these are on the nonessential side: mono versions of "Animal Zoo" and "Morning Will Come," the 1970 single "Red Light Roll On," and the previously unissued "Rougher Road."]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
i love that dr feelgood album ...
― mark e, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:50 (thirteen years ago)
another mylar cover connection!
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:54 (thirteen years ago)
ha! i was trying to persuade the folk who do a "classic album" listening sessions in glasgow that they should do "twelve dreams of dr. sardonicus" sometime. its 156 placing won't help my case.
― stirmonster, Saturday, 23 March 2013 17:56 (thirteen years ago)
Love that Spirit album but like the Pretty Things' Parachute, it totally feels like a record that belongs to a previous era to most of the rest of the stuff here. Not that there's anything wrong with that at all.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:02 (thirteen years ago)
155. FUNKADELIC Cosmic Slop (1576 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #187 for 1973http://www.silverdisc.com/images/64/646315117318.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/1MIkYCnx3EUqzMamIooOcGspotify:album:1MIkYCnx3EUqzMamIooOcG
Thank, well, Whomever, the "maladroited message of doom" inside the doublefold comes not from Brother Malachi but from Sir Lleb, and Whomever has rewarded the band with two definitively scary takes on sex and life in the future present--"Cosmic Slop" and "No Compute," both of which combine humor, pessimism, incantation, and baloney in convincing and unprecedented amalgams. Unfortunately, most of the rest is "interesting," including one profundo Vietnam monologue and many parodies of harmony-group usage.B -- R. ChristgauWho needs this shit?That said, we can progress to a more balanced appreciation of the third Funkadelic album. In it, the group continues their rather limited exploraion of the dark side of psychedelia -- a shattered, desolate landscape with few pleasures. At its most mindless, we are given about nine and a half minutes of "Wars of Armageddon" -- steady bongos and drums and repeated nudges from an organ, collaged with an arbitrary mix of angry yells, airport departure announements, cuckoo clocks, garbled conversatoin and lame variations of popular slogns ("More people to the power; More power to the pussy")--which ends with: 1) several rumbling heart and 3) a three-second disinteresting snatch of music. Far out. Balancing this is the ten-minute title cut which layers stark electric guitars over a simple, repeated "bautiful" pattern on what at first sounds like acoustic guitar but at times swells to har-plike vibrancy. With this patterns unfolding like a cool breeze in the backgroun, the electric guitars pusue independent courses out front like dragonflies dipping and sweeping; abrasive and fuzzy, then pure, lovely and shimmering... -- Vince Aletti, RS
Who needs this shit?
That said, we can progress to a more balanced appreciation of the third Funkadelic album. In it, the group continues their rather limited exploraion of the dark side of psychedelia -- a shattered, desolate landscape with few pleasures.
At its most mindless, we are given about nine and a half minutes of "Wars of Armageddon" -- steady bongos and drums and repeated nudges from an organ, collaged with an arbitrary mix of angry yells, airport departure announements, cuckoo clocks, garbled conversatoin and lame variations of popular slogns ("More people to the power; More power to the pussy")--which ends with: 1) several rumbling heart and 3) a three-second disinteresting snatch of music. Far out. Balancing this is the ten-minute title cut which layers stark electric guitars over a simple, repeated "bautiful" pattern on what at first sounds like acoustic guitar but at times swells to har-plike vibrancy. With this patterns unfolding like a cool breeze in the backgroun, the electric guitars pusue independent courses out front like dragonflies dipping and sweeping; abrasive and fuzzy, then pure, lovely and shimmering... -- Vince Aletti, RS
review[-] by Ned RaggettWith a much more stripped-down version of the band, if the credits are to be believed (five regular members total, not counting any vocalists), Funkadelic continued its way through life with Cosmic Slop. A slightly more scattershot album than the group's other early efforts, with generally short tracks (only two break the five-minute barrier) and some go-nowhere ballads, Cosmic Slop still has plenty to like about it, not least because of the monstrous title track. A bitter, heartbreaking portrait of a family on the edge, made all the more haunting and sad by the sweet vocal work -- imagine an even more mournful "Papa Was a Rollin' Stone" -- the chorus is a killer, with the devil invited to the dance while the band collectively fires up the funk. Elsewhere, the band sounds like it's more interested in simply hitting a good groove and enjoying it, and why not? If introductory track "Nappy Dugout" relies more on duck calls and whistles than anything else to give it identity, it's still a clap-your-hands/stomp-your-feet experience, speeding up just a little toward the end. As for the bandmembers themselves, Bernie Worrell still takes the general lead thanks to his peerless keyboard work, but the guitar team of Gary Shider and Ron Bykowski and the rhythm duo of Tyrone Lampkin and Cordell Mosson aren't any slouches, either. George Clinton again seems to rely on the role of ringleader more than anything else, but likely that's him behind touches like distorted vocals. Certainly it's a trip to hear the deep, spaced-out spoken word tale on "March to the Witch's Castle," a harrowing picture of vets returning from Vietnam -- and then realizing that Rush ripped off that approach for a song on its Caress of Steel album a year or two later!
With a much more stripped-down version of the band, if the credits are to be believed (five regular members total, not counting any vocalists), Funkadelic continued its way through life with Cosmic Slop. A slightly more scattershot album than the group's other early efforts, with generally short tracks (only two break the five-minute barrier) and some go-nowhere ballads, Cosmic Slop still has plenty to like about it, not least because of the monstrous title track. A bitter, heartbreaking portrait of a family on the edge, made all the more haunting and sad by the sweet vocal work -- imagine an even more mournful "Papa Was a Rollin' Stone" -- the chorus is a killer, with the devil invited to the dance while the band collectively fires up the funk. Elsewhere, the band sounds like it's more interested in simply hitting a good groove and enjoying it, and why not? If introductory track "Nappy Dugout" relies more on duck calls and whistles than anything else to give it identity, it's still a clap-your-hands/stomp-your-feet experience, speeding up just a little toward the end. As for the bandmembers themselves, Bernie Worrell still takes the general lead thanks to his peerless keyboard work, but the guitar team of Gary Shider and Ron Bykowski and the rhythm duo of Tyrone Lampkin and Cordell Mosson aren't any slouches, either. George Clinton again seems to rely on the role of ringleader more than anything else, but likely that's him behind touches like distorted vocals. Certainly it's a trip to hear the deep, spaced-out spoken word tale on "March to the Witch's Castle," a harrowing picture of vets returning from Vietnam -- and then realizing that Rush ripped off that approach for a song on its Caress of Steel album a year or two later!
Track Listing: Nappy Dugout {G Clinton, Garry Shider, Cordell Mosson} 4:33 lyricsYou Can't Miss What You Can't Measure {G Clinton, Sidney Barnes} 3:03 lyricsMarch to the Witch's Castle {G Clinton} 5:59 lyricsLet's Make It Last {G Clinton, Eddie Hazel} 4:08 lyricsCosmic Slop {G Clinton, B Worrell} 5:17 lyricsNo Compute {G Clinton, Garry Shider} 3:03 lyricsThis Broken Heart {W Franklin} 3:37 lyricsTrash A-Go-Go {G Clinton} 2:25 lyricsCan't Stand the Strain {G Clinton, E Hazel} 3:27 lyricsPersonnel: Keyboards & Melodica, Strings on 'Broken Heart': Bernard WorrellBass: 'Boogie' Mosson Percussion: Tyrone Lampkin Lead & Rhythm Guitar: Gary Shider Lead & Rhythm Guitar: Ron Bykowski Guest Funkadelic Maggot: Tiki Fulwood, Drums on 'Nappy Dugout'Song-Specific Personnel: "You Can't Miss"Lead Vocals: Garry Shider, Ray Davis, George Clinton "Let's Make It Last"Lead Vocals: Garry Shider "March To The Witch's Castle"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "Cosmic Slop"Lead Vocals: Garry ShiderGuitars: Garry Shider, Ron Bykowski "No Compute"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "This Broken Heart"Lead Vocals: Calvin Simon "Can't Stand The Strain"Lead Vocals: Garry ShiderRating: GZ **** RC **** MM ?Comment:RC: Without Eddie, the sound becomes a whole lot cleaner but less interesting. This is countered by the weirdest lyrics on almost any P.Funk release. At the same time, there's some beautiful singing on some almost Motownish tunes like "Can't Stand The Strain" and "You Can't Miss...". Doesn't match up with the funk-rock that would be produced next, but a unique sound for Funkadelic. Contains the live favorite "Cosmic Slop", a tale of a mother who is forced to sell her body to make money for her children. Unbelievably, this was viewed as a more commercial song than their earlier stuff, and they hoped it would be a big hit! It wasn't, but it is a classic. Gary Shider's finest moment. Like Maggot Brain, this album passes through a schizophrenic number of musical styles. Moreover, the album is even more schizophrenic lyrically. Half the tunes ("You Can't Miss What You Can't Measure", "Let's Make It Last", "This Broken Heart", and "Can't Stand The Strain") are more-or-less traditional soul tunes, with Parliament-like lead vocal swapping, harmonies and typical R & B love themes. They're all done extremely well, and each has a twist: odd production values, loopy keyboards (Bernie Worrell is truly the star of this album), or weird little raps. The other songs are extremely heavy, dealing with drugs, Vietnam, prostitution and casual sex. "March To The Witch's Castle" is one of the first songs to deal with Vietnam and the 'nightmare of readjustment', touching on issues like addiction. While quite deep, it never reaches preachy. "Cosmic Slop" is a rocker that talks all about what a mother needs to do to survive. "No Compute" is a bizarre little number with an upbeat swing keyboard tune, dealing about a man on the prowl who ends up with someone who may be a transvestite, and "Trash A Go-Go" (where did they come up with this title?), is a story about a man on trial for using his girlfriend as a prostitute in order to feed his habit. 'The judge and jury just frowned at me.' This album featured fewer players than any P.Funk project before or since, and the tightness of the band really helps bring it through. That, and the expert direction of Bernie Worrell.BTW, "You Can't Miss..." is a reworking of the old Parliaments tune "Heart Trouble", from way back in 1965. "This Broken Heart" is a cover of the Sonics' old song. "Can't Stand The Strain" uses the same tune as the Rose Williams, George Clinton & the Funkedelics (sic) song, "Whatever Makes My Baby Feel Good".This was the first album to feature the cover artwork of Pedro "Sir Lleb" Bell. His fantastic, grotesque drawings make owning these albums on vinyl a must. Particularly amusing are his drawings accompanying each song listed, giving a little 'summary' of each tune.Harvey "Geezer" McGee claims to be the drummer on "This Broken Heart".JJ: Gary was just a tike of about 21 for the studio version of "Cosmic Slop." The 'Space People' intro part used to be sung live by Fuzzy Haskins, since '78 it was sung by Ron Ford (when he's there) or Lige Curry.
Nappy Dugout {G Clinton, Garry Shider, Cordell Mosson} 4:33 lyricsYou Can't Miss What You Can't Measure {G Clinton, Sidney Barnes} 3:03 lyricsMarch to the Witch's Castle {G Clinton} 5:59 lyricsLet's Make It Last {G Clinton, Eddie Hazel} 4:08 lyricsCosmic Slop {G Clinton, B Worrell} 5:17 lyricsNo Compute {G Clinton, Garry Shider} 3:03 lyricsThis Broken Heart {W Franklin} 3:37 lyricsTrash A-Go-Go {G Clinton} 2:25 lyricsCan't Stand the Strain {G Clinton, E Hazel} 3:27 lyrics
Personnel: Keyboards & Melodica, Strings on 'Broken Heart': Bernard WorrellBass: 'Boogie' Mosson Percussion: Tyrone Lampkin Lead & Rhythm Guitar: Gary Shider Lead & Rhythm Guitar: Ron Bykowski Guest Funkadelic Maggot: Tiki Fulwood, Drums on 'Nappy Dugout'
"You Can't Miss"Lead Vocals: Garry Shider, Ray Davis, George Clinton
"Let's Make It Last"Lead Vocals: Garry Shider
"March To The Witch's Castle"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"Cosmic Slop"Lead Vocals: Garry ShiderGuitars: Garry Shider, Ron Bykowski
"No Compute"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"This Broken Heart"Lead Vocals: Calvin Simon
"Can't Stand The Strain"Lead Vocals: Garry Shider
Rating: GZ **** RC **** MM ?
RC: Without Eddie, the sound becomes a whole lot cleaner but less interesting. This is countered by the weirdest lyrics on almost any P.Funk release. At the same time, there's some beautiful singing on some almost Motownish tunes like "Can't Stand The Strain" and "You Can't Miss...". Doesn't match up with the funk-rock that would be produced next, but a unique sound for Funkadelic. Contains the live favorite "Cosmic Slop", a tale of a mother who is forced to sell her body to make money for her children. Unbelievably, this was viewed as a more commercial song than their earlier stuff, and they hoped it would be a big hit! It wasn't, but it is a classic. Gary Shider's finest moment. Like Maggot Brain, this album passes through a schizophrenic number of musical styles. Moreover, the album is even more schizophrenic lyrically. Half the tunes ("You Can't Miss What You Can't Measure", "Let's Make It Last", "This Broken Heart", and "Can't Stand The Strain") are more-or-less traditional soul tunes, with Parliament-like lead vocal swapping, harmonies and typical R & B love themes. They're all done extremely well, and each has a twist: odd production values, loopy keyboards (Bernie Worrell is truly the star of this album), or weird little raps. The other songs are extremely heavy, dealing with drugs, Vietnam, prostitution and casual sex. "March To The Witch's Castle" is one of the first songs to deal with Vietnam and the 'nightmare of readjustment', touching on issues like addiction. While quite deep, it never reaches preachy. "Cosmic Slop" is a rocker that talks all about what a mother needs to do to survive. "No Compute" is a bizarre little number with an upbeat swing keyboard tune, dealing about a man on the prowl who ends up with someone who may be a transvestite, and "Trash A Go-Go" (where did they come up with this title?), is a story about a man on trial for using his girlfriend as a prostitute in order to feed his habit. 'The judge and jury just frowned at me.' This album featured fewer players than any P.Funk project before or since, and the tightness of the band really helps bring it through. That, and the expert direction of Bernie Worrell.
BTW, "You Can't Miss..." is a reworking of the old Parliaments tune "Heart Trouble", from way back in 1965. "This Broken Heart" is a cover of the Sonics' old song. "Can't Stand The Strain" uses the same tune as the Rose Williams, George Clinton & the Funkedelics (sic) song, "Whatever Makes My Baby Feel Good".
This was the first album to feature the cover artwork of Pedro "Sir Lleb" Bell. His fantastic, grotesque drawings make owning these albums on vinyl a must. Particularly amusing are his drawings accompanying each song listed, giving a little 'summary' of each tune.
Harvey "Geezer" McGee claims to be the drummer on "This Broken Heart".
JJ: Gary was just a tike of about 21 for the studio version of "Cosmic Slop." The 'Space People' intro part used to be sung live by Fuzzy Haskins, since '78 it was sung by Ron Ford (when he's there) or Lige Curry.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:04 (thirteen years ago)
fnb you sure that is the right RS review? Or did the dickhead not even listen to it and steal the tracklisting off a different album?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:08 (thirteen years ago)
Just checked; there's no contemporary RS review for Cosmic Slop.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:11 (thirteen years ago)
cheers
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:13 (thirteen years ago)
There's more to the review, I was falling asleep and couldn't finish. But yeah there was a review.
xp There's shit-ton of classics here all the way down to the 700s. What's this hogwash where people can't imagine there being more than 100 classics in a decade? Like Parachute, the Spirit album seems a bit more dated, and obviously they are right on the cusp from 1970. I got that double disc compilation of Spirit back in '92 and never really got into it.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:14 (thirteen years ago)
wow vince aletti! love a disco guy throwing light shade at funkadelic, even if i'm pretty sure clinton hadn't even taken notice of disco at this point (in 1971 - it's a maggot brain review - i'm not even sure aletti had, was he tight w/ mancuso?). can't remember if i voted for this or not, i think i may have only had three funkadelic on my ballot in which case this would've missed the cut. christ how long was aletti rolling stone's go to guy for 'black music we don't know what to do w/'? until he turned to strictly photography crit? i know he wrote a luther review that turned up in some 80s r&b thread a while back.
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:17 (thirteen years ago)
Okay I checked and you're right, it was for Maggot Brain. I was so tired I didn't know what I was doing, sorry! Perhaps if that album shows up you'll see the rest ;)
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:17 (thirteen years ago)
154. FAUST Faust (1578 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #61 for 1971 , #1426 overall | Acclaimed: #1787http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/103/MI0002103676.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1ZFS7XZYHmyhTTs5QoZ1xAspotify:album:1ZFS7XZYHmyhTTs5QoZ1xA
Released as a dramatic picture disc — an X-ray of a hand embedded in clear vinyl and packaged in a transparent sleeve — Faust consists of three long, post- psychedelic jams, each composed of a couple of ideas loosely strung together. The group uses droning fuzz guitar, primitive electronics, silences, piano tinklings, warbled vocals, cabaret accents, tape manipulation and probably at least one kitchen sink. The way Faust throws these elements together suggests dada music for the electronic age. -- Trouser PressTesting the water, a concert was organised in autumn 1971, but despite a critical thumbs down and a bewildered audience recording of the Faust debut went ahead. With enthusiastic acclaim from John Peel, their debut album FAUST - uniquely packaged as a clear record in a clear sleeve with a clear insert and striking clenched fist design - soon gained public attention in Britain (despite apathy in Germany), with its excessive invention breaking beyond the normal realms of rock, with much use of electronics, unusual rhythmic structures and songs that weren't really true songs, excessive invention upon surprise after surprise. Unlike their objective, Faust hadn't come up with something totally new, but had built on convention and abused it. Still today FAUST is an extraordinary and weird album. -- Cosmic EggThis is a strikingly original debut, from it’s brilliant clear x-ray cover to the insane cut-up tape manipulations inside. It’s definitely one of those groundbreaking albums that took the world over two decades to catch up with. Even now, it’s awe-inspiring. And like many works that teeter into avant-garde territory, it’s not exactly easy listening. -- Fastnbulbous
Testing the water, a concert was organised in autumn 1971, but despite a critical thumbs down and a bewildered audience recording of the Faust debut went ahead. With enthusiastic acclaim from John Peel, their debut album FAUST - uniquely packaged as a clear record in a clear sleeve with a clear insert and striking clenched fist design - soon gained public attention in Britain (despite apathy in Germany), with its excessive invention breaking beyond the normal realms of rock, with much use of electronics, unusual rhythmic structures and songs that weren't really true songs, excessive invention upon surprise after surprise. Unlike their objective, Faust hadn't come up with something totally new, but had built on convention and abused it. Still today FAUST is an extraordinary and weird album. -- Cosmic Egg
This is a strikingly original debut, from it’s brilliant clear x-ray cover to the insane cut-up tape manipulations inside. It’s definitely one of those groundbreaking albums that took the world over two decades to catch up with. Even now, it’s awe-inspiring. And like many works that teeter into avant-garde territory, it’s not exactly easy listening. -- Fastnbulbous
reviewby Archie PattersonThe impact of Faust cannot be overstated; their debut album was truly a revolutionary step forward in the progress of "rock music". It was pressed on clear vinyl, packaged in a clear sleeve, with a clear plastic lyric insert. The black X-ray of a fist on the cover graphically illustrates the hard core music contained in the grooves, an amalgamation of electronics, rock, tape edits, acoustic guitars, musique concrete, and industrial angst. The level of imagination is staggering, the concept is totally unique and it's fun to listen to as well.
The impact of Faust cannot be overstated; their debut album was truly a revolutionary step forward in the progress of "rock music". It was pressed on clear vinyl, packaged in a clear sleeve, with a clear plastic lyric insert. The black X-ray of a fist on the cover graphically illustrates the hard core music contained in the grooves, an amalgamation of electronics, rock, tape edits, acoustic guitars, musique concrete, and industrial angst. The level of imagination is staggering, the concept is totally unique and it's fun to listen to as well.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:18 (thirteen years ago)
ok as aletti apparently founded the record pool w/ mancuso (and steve d'aquisto) i guess he was tight w/ mancuso.
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:19 (thirteen years ago)
cheers, balls. Didn't know anything about the guy. Btw what do the disco historians say was the 1st disco single? I.e. the one that started the whole movement? (and in what year?)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:20 (thirteen years ago)
It initially struck me as odd that Aletti was so down on Maggot Brain, but maybe not really.
This is probably what got him hired (Letters, RS #9, April 27, 1968):
SIRS:Listen: Jon Landau is one of the finest writers you have and don't let nobody tell you different. I have never thought he needed defending. It's simply this: Landau knows what he's saying and you, reading a review, know what he's saying. When he writes an album review, you know what the album is like apart from his judgment of it. This may not make him stand out so clearly in Rolling Stone where the writing is more than readable. Landau's grasp of R&B alone makes him valuable in Rolling Stone.VINCENT ALETTINEW YORK CITY
VINCENT ALETTINEW YORK CITY
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:24 (thirteen years ago)
o wow that full maggot brain review is brutal. that's what i love about present tense reviews from the time (even if they're "wrong" BOO HOO) - maybe they're reacting to hype at the time but by and large they aren't cluttered w/ years of mythmaking and canonizing (which even negative reviews of classics done after the fact tend to fall prey to w/ boring contrarianism or challopzzz), all too often the only way to get a fresh take on these monoliths is to read a take from when these monoliths were fresh. eg nik cohn's awesome/honest take down of abbey road which was the time review of the time: http://www.nytimes.com/library/music/100569lennon-beat.html
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:27 (thirteen years ago)
heh I cant imagine funkadelic getting hype back then . They were only on Westbound so I assume you're talking about other bands albums getting hype.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:29 (thirteen years ago)
153. PENTAGRAM First Daze Here (1611 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #13 for 2002 , #364 overallhttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MgRHpnroYGU/TFVDdtgnY3I/AAAAAAAABA0/yIiEQT7wKYU/s1600/Pentagram+-+Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0nGceuITQR9TWnpYiqboUDspotify:album:0nGceuITQR9TWnpYiqboUD
review[-] by Eduardo RivadaviaEver wonder how it felt for blues historians to uncover the lost 78s containing Robert Johnson's timeless Depression-era recordings? Well, if there's a heavy metal equivalent to this experience, then First Daze Here may well be it. Yet another Pentagram collection gradually unearthing this once amazingly obscure band's rare singles and even rarer studio recordings, it's not the most comprehensive, nor is it definitive, but it boasts the best selection and certainly the best sound quality. Most of these tracks were recorded between 1973 and 1974 at various low-budget sessions in the Washington, D.C., area by the group's original lineup, and digital remastering has done wonders to resurrect their original power and appeal. What most people don't know is that Pentagram's early work was hardly dominated by the Sabbath-heavy proto-metal which would characterize their mid-'80s releases. Rather, while this was certainly a core component of the band's sound (see "When the Screams Come" and "Review Your Choices"), their love for the '60s-based psychedelic hard rock of Blue Cheer was just as pronounced, especially on offerings like "Lazylady," "Hurricane," and "Last Days Here." Barnstorming opener "Forever My Queen" is probably their best-known early single, and with reason, as it remains a career high watermark; but it's long-forgotten gems like "Living in a Ram's Head" and the awesome "Be Forewarned" (later given a more traditionally metallic treatment in the early '90s) which will prove especially thrilling to fans of the '70s' sonic aesthetic. For them, as well as most serious metal historians, this is an essential purchase.
Ever wonder how it felt for blues historians to uncover the lost 78s containing Robert Johnson's timeless Depression-era recordings? Well, if there's a heavy metal equivalent to this experience, then First Daze Here may well be it. Yet another Pentagram collection gradually unearthing this once amazingly obscure band's rare singles and even rarer studio recordings, it's not the most comprehensive, nor is it definitive, but it boasts the best selection and certainly the best sound quality. Most of these tracks were recorded between 1973 and 1974 at various low-budget sessions in the Washington, D.C., area by the group's original lineup, and digital remastering has done wonders to resurrect their original power and appeal. What most people don't know is that Pentagram's early work was hardly dominated by the Sabbath-heavy proto-metal which would characterize their mid-'80s releases. Rather, while this was certainly a core component of the band's sound (see "When the Screams Come" and "Review Your Choices"), their love for the '60s-based psychedelic hard rock of Blue Cheer was just as pronounced, especially on offerings like "Lazylady," "Hurricane," and "Last Days Here." Barnstorming opener "Forever My Queen" is probably their best-known early single, and with reason, as it remains a career high watermark; but it's long-forgotten gems like "Living in a Ram's Head" and the awesome "Be Forewarned" (later given a more traditionally metallic treatment in the early '90s) which will prove especially thrilling to fans of the '70s' sonic aesthetic. For them, as well as most serious metal historians, this is an essential purchase.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:30 (thirteen years ago)
Love Cosmic Slop and Faust. I'm guessing FIV will be top 50.
― emil.y, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:32 (thirteen years ago)
(That's Faust 4, not Feline Immunodeficiency Virus)
― emil.y, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:33 (thirteen years ago)
first disco single is much disputed but i think this is probably conventionally held to be disco's 'rocket 88', for the beat at least -
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwW-p-y0i9k
mancuso's first love saves the day loft party was february 1970 and that seems a good date to start w/ (that or whenever nyc legalized men dancing together). aletti's disco files column for the voice starts in 73. so by 73 disco is definitely a thing but you can probably trace it to earlier the same way you can trace rock n roll back to the end of wwII or whatever (cf tosches claiming rock n roll was basically dead and exhausted by the time elvis made a record anyway).
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:34 (thirteen years ago)
Glad you're here emil.y things that may be of interest to you coming up in countdown
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:35 (thirteen years ago)
ok wow as early as 70???
More proof that The Temptations are one of the greatest most innovative bands ever (well ok their various producers but y'know its the same with the beatles)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:37 (thirteen years ago)
I'm really surprised that Faust s/t beat Tapes
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:41 (thirteen years ago)
Why so?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:41 (thirteen years ago)
i remember when tapes was easily held to be their zenith, i knew ppl who owned it who didn't even know there were other faust albums (like how tommy for a while nearly completely overshadowed the who's other albums, though that's more absurd cuz while tapes might be the best faust there's no fucking way tommy is the best who). cw doesn't seem quite as uniform now, i'm a faust iv guy myself but i acknowledge my perversion.
― balls, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:45 (thirteen years ago)
152. MC5 Back in the USA (1613 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #221 for 1970 | RS: #451http://images.coveralia.com/audio/m/MC5-Back_In_The_Usa-Frontal.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/67NkpPGMcxoIiumOW3oRpLspotify:album:67NkpPGMcxoIiumOW3oRpL
Evidently not. The next MC5 album, produced by Jon Landau (prior to his more financially rewarding alliance with Bruce Springsteen), finds them downplaying the rabble-rousing in favor of claustrophobically taut and blisteringly electric sub-three-minute odes to "High School," "Teenage Lust" and "Shakin' Street" ("where all the kids meet"). The LP also contains performances of "Tutti Frutti" and the Chuck Berry title cut, with its refrain of "I'm so glad I'm living in the USA." Sarcasm? A timely return to the roots? Probably both. At least the concise songs are easier to like than the first LP's hippie-era sprawl. -- Trouser PressAn ill-fated venture into agitprop pop, the MC5 cultivated rock's subversivetendencies as a matter of principle. Depending on your point of view, theirbrusque instrumental approach either catalyzed or obviated the politicizedlyrics. A palpable commitment and energy animates the Five's best recordedefforts, although credible eyewitnesses claim the band's live magic never gotcaptured on vinyl. -- Jim Miller, The Heavy Metal Hall of Fame, RSBack in the USA is the 1970 debut studio album, and second album overall, by the American protopunk band MC5. The opening track is a cover of the classic hit "Tutti Frutti" by Little Richard, "Let Me Try" is a ballad, "The American Ruse" attacks what the Detroitquintet saw as the hypocritical idea of freedom espoused by the US government, and "The Human Being Lawnmower" expressesopposition to the US involvement in the Vietnam War. The last song on the album, which is the title track, is a cover of Chuck Berry's 1959 single "Back in the U.S.A.". The central focus of the album is the band's actual movement away from the raw, thrashy sound pioneered and captured on their first release Kick Out the Jams. This was due in part to producer Jon Landau's distaste for the rough psychedelic rock movement, and his adoration for the straightforward rock & roll of the 1950s.Landau, who originally wrote for Rolling Stone Magazine, was looking to get more involved in actual music production. Becoming close with Atlantic Records executive Jerry Wexler was his chance and led Landau to the politically radical MC5, who had just been picked up by Atlantic after being dropped from Elektra Records in 1969 - ironically, the Kinney National Company (later known as Time Warner), parent of Atlantic, would acquire Elektra in the same year of this album's release; both labels are now part of the Warner Music Group (now a separate company from TW), through the Atlantic Records Group. Though the album was viewed as a flop early on by most fans, and lacked the commercial success of their previous release, it would later be considered highly important due to the album's absolute projection of MC5's core sound and earliest influences. "High School" was featured in the 1979 movie Rock 'n' Roll High School, although not on the soundtrack album. It was also covered byMichael Monroe on his first solo album Nights Are So Long. "Shakin' Street" was covered by The Vibrators. "The American Ruse" was covered by The Hellacopters. "Looking at You" was covered by The Damned in 1979 on their Machine Gun Etiquette album. -- Wikipedia
An ill-fated venture into agitprop pop, the MC5 cultivated rock's subversivetendencies as a matter of principle. Depending on your point of view, theirbrusque instrumental approach either catalyzed or obviated the politicizedlyrics. A palpable commitment and energy animates the Five's best recordedefforts, although credible eyewitnesses claim the band's live magic never gotcaptured on vinyl. -- Jim Miller, The Heavy Metal Hall of Fame, RS
Back in the USA is the 1970 debut studio album, and second album overall, by the American protopunk band MC5. The opening track is a cover of the classic hit "Tutti Frutti" by Little Richard, "Let Me Try" is a ballad, "The American Ruse" attacks what the Detroitquintet saw as the hypocritical idea of freedom espoused by the US government, and "The Human Being Lawnmower" expressesopposition to the US involvement in the Vietnam War. The last song on the album, which is the title track, is a cover of Chuck Berry's 1959 single "Back in the U.S.A.".
The central focus of the album is the band's actual movement away from the raw, thrashy sound pioneered and captured on their first release Kick Out the Jams. This was due in part to producer Jon Landau's distaste for the rough psychedelic rock movement, and his adoration for the straightforward rock & roll of the 1950s.Landau, who originally wrote for Rolling Stone Magazine, was looking to get more involved in actual music production. Becoming close with Atlantic Records executive Jerry Wexler was his chance and led Landau to the politically radical MC5, who had just been picked up by Atlantic after being dropped from Elektra Records in 1969 - ironically, the Kinney National Company (later known as Time Warner), parent of Atlantic, would acquire Elektra in the same year of this album's release; both labels are now part of the Warner Music Group (now a separate company from TW), through the Atlantic Records Group. Though the album was viewed as a flop early on by most fans, and lacked the commercial success of their previous release, it would later be considered highly important due to the album's absolute projection of MC5's core sound and earliest influences. "High School" was featured in the 1979 movie Rock 'n' Roll High School, although not on the soundtrack album. It was also covered byMichael Monroe on his first solo album Nights Are So Long. "Shakin' Street" was covered by The Vibrators. "The American Ruse" was covered by The Hellacopters. "Looking at You" was covered by The Damned in 1979 on their Machine Gun Etiquette album. -- Wikipedia
review[-] by Jason AnkenyWhile lacking the monumental impact of Kick Out the Jams, the MC5's second album is in many regards their best and most influential, its lean, edgy sound anticipating the emergence of both the punk and power pop movements to follow later in the decade. Bookended by a pair of telling covers -- Little Richard's "Tutti Frutti" and Chuck Berry's "Back in the U.S.A." -- the disc is as much a look back at rock & roll's origins as it is a push forward into the music's future; given the Five's vaunted revolutionary leanings, for instance, it's both surprising and refreshing to discover the record's emotional centerpiece is a doo wop-inspired ballad, "Let Me Try," that's the most lovely and gentle song in their catalog. The recurring theme which drives Back in the USA is adolescence, its reminiscences alternately fond and embittered -- while cuts like "Tonight," "Teenage Lust," "High School," and "Shakin' Street" celebrate youth in all its rebellious glory, others like "The American Ruse" and "The Human Being Lawnmower" condemn a system which eats its young, filling their heads with lies before sending them off to war. Equally gripping is the record's singular sound -- produced by Jon Landau with an almost complete disregard for the bottom end, Back in the USA captures a live-wire intensity 180 degrees removed from the group's live sound yet perfectly suited to the material at hand, resulting in music which not only salutes the power of rock & roll but also reaffirms it.
While lacking the monumental impact of Kick Out the Jams, the MC5's second album is in many regards their best and most influential, its lean, edgy sound anticipating the emergence of both the punk and power pop movements to follow later in the decade. Bookended by a pair of telling covers -- Little Richard's "Tutti Frutti" and Chuck Berry's "Back in the U.S.A." -- the disc is as much a look back at rock & roll's origins as it is a push forward into the music's future; given the Five's vaunted revolutionary leanings, for instance, it's both surprising and refreshing to discover the record's emotional centerpiece is a doo wop-inspired ballad, "Let Me Try," that's the most lovely and gentle song in their catalog. The recurring theme which drives Back in the USA is adolescence, its reminiscences alternately fond and embittered -- while cuts like "Tonight," "Teenage Lust," "High School," and "Shakin' Street" celebrate youth in all its rebellious glory, others like "The American Ruse" and "The Human Being Lawnmower" condemn a system which eats its young, filling their heads with lies before sending them off to war. Equally gripping is the record's singular sound -- produced by Jon Landau with an almost complete disregard for the bottom end, Back in the USA captures a live-wire intensity 180 degrees removed from the group's live sound yet perfectly suited to the material at hand, resulting in music which not only salutes the power of rock & roll but also reaffirms it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:46 (thirteen years ago)
entire Faust rec f/ US Spotify users: http://youtu.be/fdjpwxYup3k
― Hellhouse, Saturday, 23 March 2013 18:52 (thirteen years ago)
151. La Düsseldorf - La Düsseldorf (1624 Points, 12 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #100 for 1976http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3m089mnApoI/TxqonaNJvTI/AAAAAAAADxU/JFKfE_sUmFg/s1600/front.jpg
La Dusseldorf eh? Formed by Klaus Dinger (the punkier side of Neu!) this being their first album and rather good it is too!It’s one I come back to every month or two, and when I do, I put it on repeat and listen to it loads and loads because I don’t get tired of it! It’s so stupidly weak and un-punk like that in it’s own way its very punk. The seemingly endless sugary drum lead pop-ur-punk mantras get me every time and put a silly grin on my face of sheer delite.I could go into the history of how this album came into being after the demise of Dinger’s and Rother’s classic band “Neu!” but I don’t feel that it matters (though I would suggest reading Cope’s brilliant book Krautrocksampler which, unfortunately is a pain in the ass to get hold of now).The album starts off with the imaginatively titled “Dusseldorf” where you are thrown straight into a utopian city of the future with the sound of a plane overhead. Straight off you’re pushed along by the thumping motorik drumming (here supplied by Dinger’s brother Thomas, though who could possibly tell the difference?) accompanied with the spindley spider like guitar playing by Klaus. Some of the hookiest and sweetest synthesizer playing pops up all over the place, with the one all-important word “Dusseldorf” being sung in a dumb endearing mantric manner. Im not very good with words so I cant quite convey the sheer feeling of joy I get listening to this. The name of the next track is even more incredibly surprising. “La Dusseldorf” it is and this time it starts with the sound of football fans (I think) chanting and cheering, before them drums come in again and this time it’s even more uptempo and the seemingly 1-2 chord guitar riff a little harder. “Dusseldorf!!!!” indeedy. Next are some fuzzy guitar leads over some very unintelligible german/anglo sillyness, where it’s possible to make out phrases such as “so many gangsters!” which may not sound like much in writing, but the delivery makes it all worth while.The third track unbelievably has nothing to do with the city of Dusseldorf and is instead called “Silver Cloud” which is purely instrumental, and was supposedly quite a hit for them in Germany (I think). The rhythm hear chugs along with a lot less urgency than before, bringing to mind some of the Michael Rother lead Neu! Tracks (Weissensee? Im Gluck?). The overall feel is quite blissed out, with the drums sometimes even dropping away altogether for some cosmic, twinkly almost toy box sounding synths to set the scene.Fourth and final track is called “Time” and it starts out rather quiet, with piano tinklings before a big cymbal noise comes in and you hear the word “Time!”, it goes on like this for a few minutes before the whole sonic soundscape starts to resemble the previous tracks again whilst filling you with the same feelings of joy as before.As I say, words don’t come easy trying to sum this one up, but I would HIGHLY recommend it to anyone who’s even slightly interested in the whole Krautrock genre, or even anybody who’s into Bowies Berlin trilogy, just to see where he got a lot of his influence! -- Beebon, Head HeritageContinuing in his more energetic, punky side two of Neu! 75, Klaus Dinger recorded three stunning albums as La Dusseldorf, including Viva (1978) and Individuellos (1981) all remastered and reissued on Warner’s German label, and available at Wayside Music. With his singing and relatively catchy melodies, some might argue that these albums have as much to do with Krautrock as Kraftwerk’s late 70s synth albums. However, La Dusseldorf has too long been ignored, and have enough in common with Neu! to merit inclusion here. Sadly, Dinger’s death in early 2008 dashes hopes for any Neu! or Dusseldorf reunion. -- Fastnbulbous
It’s one I come back to every month or two, and when I do, I put it on repeat and listen to it loads and loads because I don’t get tired of it! It’s so stupidly weak and un-punk like that in it’s own way its very punk. The seemingly endless sugary drum lead pop-ur-punk mantras get me every time and put a silly grin on my face of sheer delite.
I could go into the history of how this album came into being after the demise of Dinger’s and Rother’s classic band “Neu!” but I don’t feel that it matters (though I would suggest reading Cope’s brilliant book Krautrocksampler which, unfortunately is a pain in the ass to get hold of now).
The album starts off with the imaginatively titled “Dusseldorf” where you are thrown straight into a utopian city of the future with the sound of a plane overhead. Straight off you’re pushed along by the thumping motorik drumming (here supplied by Dinger’s brother Thomas, though who could possibly tell the difference?) accompanied with the spindley spider like guitar playing by Klaus. Some of the hookiest and sweetest synthesizer playing pops up all over the place, with the one all-important word “Dusseldorf” being sung in a dumb endearing mantric manner. Im not very good with words so I cant quite convey the sheer feeling of joy I get listening to this.
The name of the next track is even more incredibly surprising. “La Dusseldorf” it is and this time it starts with the sound of football fans (I think) chanting and cheering, before them drums come in again and this time it’s even more uptempo and the seemingly 1-2 chord guitar riff a little harder. “Dusseldorf!!!!” indeedy. Next are some fuzzy guitar leads over some very unintelligible german/anglo sillyness, where it’s possible to make out phrases such as “so many gangsters!” which may not sound like much in writing, but the delivery makes it all worth while.
The third track unbelievably has nothing to do with the city of Dusseldorf and is instead called “Silver Cloud” which is purely instrumental, and was supposedly quite a hit for them in Germany (I think). The rhythm hear chugs along with a lot less urgency than before, bringing to mind some of the Michael Rother lead Neu! Tracks (Weissensee? Im Gluck?). The overall feel is quite blissed out, with the drums sometimes even dropping away altogether for some cosmic, twinkly almost toy box sounding synths to set the scene.
Fourth and final track is called “Time” and it starts out rather quiet, with piano tinklings before a big cymbal noise comes in and you hear the word “Time!”, it goes on like this for a few minutes before the whole sonic soundscape starts to resemble the previous tracks again whilst filling you with the same feelings of joy as before.
As I say, words don’t come easy trying to sum this one up, but I would HIGHLY recommend it to anyone who’s even slightly interested in the whole Krautrock genre, or even anybody who’s into Bowies Berlin trilogy, just to see where he got a lot of his influence! -- Beebon, Head Heritage
Continuing in his more energetic, punky side two of Neu! 75, Klaus Dinger recorded three stunning albums as La Dusseldorf, including Viva (1978) and Individuellos (1981) all remastered and reissued on Warner’s German label, and available at Wayside Music. With his singing and relatively catchy melodies, some might argue that these albums have as much to do with Krautrock as Kraftwerk’s late 70s synth albums. However, La Dusseldorf has too long been ignored, and have enough in common with Neu! to merit inclusion here. Sadly, Dinger’s death in early 2008 dashes hopes for any Neu! or Dusseldorf reunion. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Wilson NeateAfter Neu! broke up in 1975, Klaus Dinger formed La Düsseldorf with his brother Thomas and Hans Lampe, who had both contributed percussion on Neu!'s swan song album. Neu! always displayed a split personality, rooted in the conflicting temperaments and sensibilities of Dinger and guitarist Michael Rother, differences that were dramatized on the duo's final record, where Rother's mellower, melodic atmospherics contrasted with Dinger's anarchic, noisier inclinations. Recorded in 1975, La Düsseldorf's self-titled debut effects something of a compromise between those two aesthetics. Built on driving beats and fleshed out with expansive synth coloring, the 13-minute "Düsseldorf" is a grand, pop-friendly homage to Dinger's hometown. Although its repetitive glide recalls Neu!'s signature Motorik groove, there's something more playful and joyous about Dinger's approach here, especially at the moments when the vocals venture briefly into mock operatics and a glammy piano hammers away. The title track involves similar sonic ingredients but puts them to more concise and aggressive use. As with Neu!'s "Hero" and "After Eight," Dinger injects this song with a speedy, sloganeering rush that anticipates punk; at the same time, though, its incorporation of a soccer-crowd chant seems almost a prescient parody of the brainless variant of punk that would later turn the movement into self-caricature. Indeed, while Dinger was punk avant la lettre, he already had a foot in the post-punk era, something that's most evident on "Silver Cloud" and "Time." These tracks are more minimalist, looking forward to the pared-down, monochromatic austerity that would follow punk's color-cartoon demise. On "Time," an oceanic ebb and flow and somber church-organ sounds eventually yield to a hypnotic, nodding pulse. The album's standout, the mesmerizing instrumental "Silver Cloud," sees prominent synths and mechanical rhythms impart a cool electronic aura that certainly resonated with Bowie and made its presence felt on his Berlin recordings.
After Neu! broke up in 1975, Klaus Dinger formed La Düsseldorf with his brother Thomas and Hans Lampe, who had both contributed percussion on Neu!'s swan song album. Neu! always displayed a split personality, rooted in the conflicting temperaments and sensibilities of Dinger and guitarist Michael Rother, differences that were dramatized on the duo's final record, where Rother's mellower, melodic atmospherics contrasted with Dinger's anarchic, noisier inclinations. Recorded in 1975, La Düsseldorf's self-titled debut effects something of a compromise between those two aesthetics. Built on driving beats and fleshed out with expansive synth coloring, the 13-minute "Düsseldorf" is a grand, pop-friendly homage to Dinger's hometown. Although its repetitive glide recalls Neu!'s signature Motorik groove, there's something more playful and joyous about Dinger's approach here, especially at the moments when the vocals venture briefly into mock operatics and a glammy piano hammers away. The title track involves similar sonic ingredients but puts them to more concise and aggressive use. As with Neu!'s "Hero" and "After Eight," Dinger injects this song with a speedy, sloganeering rush that anticipates punk; at the same time, though, its incorporation of a soccer-crowd chant seems almost a prescient parody of the brainless variant of punk that would later turn the movement into self-caricature. Indeed, while Dinger was punk avant la lettre, he already had a foot in the post-punk era, something that's most evident on "Silver Cloud" and "Time." These tracks are more minimalist, looking forward to the pared-down, monochromatic austerity that would follow punk's color-cartoon demise. On "Time," an oceanic ebb and flow and somber church-organ sounds eventually yield to a hypnotic, nodding pulse. The album's standout, the mesmerizing instrumental "Silver Cloud," sees prominent synths and mechanical rhythms impart a cool electronic aura that certainly resonated with Bowie and made its presence felt on his Berlin recordings.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:00 (thirteen years ago)
for emil.y
http://www.davidmichaelclarke.net/images/works/too-high.jpg
great album though. but emil.y and I like to fight over which of their albums is best.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:02 (thirteen years ago)
"Like to" is perhaps another area where we disagree.
Anyway, yep, TOO LOW.
― emil.y, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:13 (thirteen years ago)
150. ATOMIC ROOSTER Death Walks Behind You (1627 Points, 1 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #85 for 1970 , #2558 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/208/MI0002208741.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/54QaDZLscEAvvxqLrMJqjfspotify:album:54QaDZLscEAvvxqLrMJqjf
This record is widely considered the best and heaviest, although its meatal careens wildly more like a feedbacking, distorting German prog octopus iwth a pile of heavy HEep-ish riffs here and there, very 1970-72 in execuition, but quite Purple in arrangement with all that Lord-ian Hammond keyboard work... Pity, if these guys would have dropped all the fancy pants noodling and wrote songs for regular people, they would have3 borke the bank just like every other "metal" act at the time, except, uh, Budgie...But prog fans will be amazed, agape, rocked black and blue. And now I suppose you want to see Amon Duul II and Gong in here? IN any event, the title track is indeed a pounding metal classica with an unforgettable riff... The innovative and ornate rhythmic prog of "Tomorrow NIght" contained enough sparklea nad urgency to turn it into a #11 hit in the UK, despite its brainy, melaveolent break...A truly rocking early chunk of metal is born... even if Death Walks Behind You would sadly prove an anomoly in the band's erratic catologue. -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Dave Thompson"Devil's Answer" might be the record for which Atomic Rooster are remembered, but it was their second album that posted warning that they were on the verge of creating something dazzling -- simply because the record itself is a thing of almost freakish beauty. With only organist Vincent Crane surviving from the original lineup, and John Du Cann coming in to relieve him of some of the songwriting duties, Death Walks Behind You opens at a gallop and closes with a sprint. The title track is effectively spooky enough for any Hammer horror aficionado, all descending pianos and Psycho-screaming guitars, while "Gershatzer," a duet for organ and percussion, proves that new drummer Paul Hammond is more than a match for the departed Carl Palmer. It's in between these dramatic bookends, however, that Rooster truly peak, with the stately "VUG," the pensive "Nobody Else," and the truly amazing "Tomorrow Night" (one of the scariest love songs ever let loose on the U.K. chart) all impressing. Crane's liner notes, incidentally, remind us that the album packed a different version of the hit, with an extended ending that descends into unimagined chaos -- a shocker for the pop kids, perhaps, but a fabulous bridge into the succeeding "7 Streets." Possibly the best evidence for this being Atomic Rooster's masterpiece, however, comes not simply from what's on the album, but for what has been left off. An excellent repackaging and remastering job restores the original artwork in all its gatefold glory, but you'll search in vain for bonus tracks -- not because there were none to add, but because they simply wouldn't fit. Sit through Death Walks Behind You, after all, and you really won't need any more surprises.
"Devil's Answer" might be the record for which Atomic Rooster are remembered, but it was their second album that posted warning that they were on the verge of creating something dazzling -- simply because the record itself is a thing of almost freakish beauty. With only organist Vincent Crane surviving from the original lineup, and John Du Cann coming in to relieve him of some of the songwriting duties, Death Walks Behind You opens at a gallop and closes with a sprint. The title track is effectively spooky enough for any Hammer horror aficionado, all descending pianos and Psycho-screaming guitars, while "Gershatzer," a duet for organ and percussion, proves that new drummer Paul Hammond is more than a match for the departed Carl Palmer. It's in between these dramatic bookends, however, that Rooster truly peak, with the stately "VUG," the pensive "Nobody Else," and the truly amazing "Tomorrow Night" (one of the scariest love songs ever let loose on the U.K. chart) all impressing. Crane's liner notes, incidentally, remind us that the album packed a different version of the hit, with an extended ending that descends into unimagined chaos -- a shocker for the pop kids, perhaps, but a fabulous bridge into the succeeding "7 Streets." Possibly the best evidence for this being Atomic Rooster's masterpiece, however, comes not simply from what's on the album, but for what has been left off. An excellent repackaging and remastering job restores the original artwork in all its gatefold glory, but you'll search in vain for bonus tracks -- not because there were none to add, but because they simply wouldn't fit. Sit through Death Walks Behind You, after all, and you really won't need any more surprises.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:15 (thirteen years ago)
"meatal" was an unintentional typo, heh.
Playing Dusseldorf now. Classic cover art too.
I went through the RS DVDs (all the issues up through 2007)
Are you able to copy-paste content from them? There's a couple reviews that take up an entire page that I'd rather not type out, seem to be unavailable elsewhere. Can you help?
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:16 (thirteen years ago)
The software is horrible, and doesn't allow for copying & pasting. I might be able to post screenshots, but they'd likely be huge (so's that the text is legible). I can check for you; e-mail me at tarfumes at gee! mail? d o t c o m.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:20 (thirteen years ago)
149. ISLEY BROTHERS 3+3 (1632 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #102 for 1973 , #2862 overall | Acclaimed: #1026
http://newmusicasobmedida.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/the_isley_brothers_33-front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2rVVM68EshvrjsV2HWALIWspotify:album:2rVVM68EshvrjsV2HWALIW
I know the singing siblings have soft tastes in "rock," but where this side of a Warners promo could you expect to find "Summer Breeze," "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight," and "Listen to the Music" on the same album? Still, with "That Lady" their most original original in years, Ernie soaring around thrillingly on his magic guitar, and the others popping their various things in ever more winning combinations, this is their sexiest music in years. Just because they manhandled "Fire and Rain" doesn't mean they can't improve on James's schlock. In fact, between their sense of rhythm and their knee-jerk sincerity they make all three covers work--except for the mental jasmine part, of course. B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Alex HendersonRecorded in 1973, 3 + 3 was a major turning point for the Isley Brothers. With this album, the Isleys moved their T-Neck label from Buddah to Epic/CBS (which became Epic/Sony in the early '90s), and it was at Epic that they unveiled their new lineup. Lead singer Ronald Isley and his siblings O'Kelly and Rudolph remained, but the Isleys became a sextet instead of a trio when cousin Chris Jasper and younger brothers Ernie and Marvin were added. This new lineup was called 3 + 3, and the addition of Jasper on keyboards, Ernie on guitar, and Marvin on bass added exciting new elements to the Isleys' sound. One of finest R&B bassists of the 1970s, the ever-so-funky Marvin is in a class with heavyweights like Larry Graham and Louis Johnson -- and Ernie is a stunning guitarist who is heavily influenced by Jimi Hendrix but has a distinctive style of his own. the Isleys had always been lovers of rock, but with the addition of Ernie, their sound became even more overtly rock-influenced. Nonetheless, the rock and pop elements didn't alienate R&B audiences, which ate this album up. The single "That Lady" (which is based on an Impressions-like gem they had recorded in 1964) was a major hit, and the Isleys are equally captivating on soul interpretations of Seals & Crofts' "Summer Breeze," James Taylor's "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight," and the Doobie Brothers' "Listen to the Music." With this superb album, the Isley Brothers sounded better than ever -- and they gained a lot of new fans without sacrificing the old ones.
Recorded in 1973, 3 + 3 was a major turning point for the Isley Brothers. With this album, the Isleys moved their T-Neck label from Buddah to Epic/CBS (which became Epic/Sony in the early '90s), and it was at Epic that they unveiled their new lineup. Lead singer Ronald Isley and his siblings O'Kelly and Rudolph remained, but the Isleys became a sextet instead of a trio when cousin Chris Jasper and younger brothers Ernie and Marvin were added. This new lineup was called 3 + 3, and the addition of Jasper on keyboards, Ernie on guitar, and Marvin on bass added exciting new elements to the Isleys' sound. One of finest R&B bassists of the 1970s, the ever-so-funky Marvin is in a class with heavyweights like Larry Graham and Louis Johnson -- and Ernie is a stunning guitarist who is heavily influenced by Jimi Hendrix but has a distinctive style of his own. the Isleys had always been lovers of rock, but with the addition of Ernie, their sound became even more overtly rock-influenced. Nonetheless, the rock and pop elements didn't alienate R&B audiences, which ate this album up. The single "That Lady" (which is based on an Impressions-like gem they had recorded in 1964) was a major hit, and the Isleys are equally captivating on soul interpretations of Seals & Crofts' "Summer Breeze," James Taylor's "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight," and the Doobie Brothers' "Listen to the Music." With this superb album, the Isley Brothers sounded better than ever -- and they gained a lot of new fans without sacrificing the old ones.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:31 (thirteen years ago)
Thought that would be top 100
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:33 (thirteen years ago)
love that La Dusseldorf record, I think Viva just edges it though.
― Neil S, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:35 (thirteen years ago)
Agreed
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:38 (thirteen years ago)
I've said it before and I'll say it again - to me, there is no greater side of music put together than side one of that record. And side two ain't half bad either.
― emil.y, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:41 (thirteen years ago)
147. MILES DAVIS Get Up With It (1634 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #15 for 1974 , #616 overallhttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ViHtgYz3U_s/TYHQrN2vOyI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/iwwbRg_UdSI/s1600/Miles_Davis-Get_Up_With_It-Frontal.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0CFS3jvFwutIt5ewGIa7Sqspotify:album:0CFS3jvFwutIt5ewGIa7Sq
Only two of the six "short" tracks--they total about an hour--are more than good background. "Maiyisha," which recalled his most lyrical early-60s stuff, and "Honky Tonk," a snazzy blues. Even the rocking "Red China Blues" is marred by a Wade Marcus horn chart, and "Rated X" is an experiment in organ noise that's not so great in the background either. But the two long ones--they total over an hour--are brilliant: "He Loved Him Madly," a tribute to Duke Ellington as elegant African internationalist, and "Calypso Frelimo," a Caribbean dance broken into sections that seem to follow with preordained emotional logic. Not necessarily music to fill the mind--just the room. A- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Thom JurekWhen Get Up with It was released in 1974, critics -- let alone fans -- had a tough time with it. The package was a -- by then customary -- double LP, with sessions ranging from 1970-1974 and a large host of musicians who had indeed played on late-'60s and early-'70s recordings, including but not limited to Al Foster, Airto, John McLaughlin, Reggie Lucas, Pete Cosey, Mtume, David Liebman, Billy Cobham, Michael Henderson, Herbie Hancock, Keith Jarrett, Sonny Fortune, Steve Grossman, and others. The music felt, as was customary then, woven together from other sources by Miles and producer Teo Macero. However, these eight selections point in the direction of Miles saying goodbye, as he did for six years after this disc. This was a summation of all that jazz had been to Davis in the '70s and he was leaving it in yet another place altogether; check the opening track, "He Loved Him Madly," with its gorgeous shimmering organ vamp (not even credited to Miles) and its elaborate, decidedly slow, ambient unfolding -- yet with pronounced Ellingtonian lyricism -- over 33 minutes. Given three guitar players, flute, trumpet, bass, drums, and percussion, its restraint is remarkable. When Miles engages the organ formally as he does on the funky groove that moves through "Maiysha," with a shimmering grace that colors the proceedings impressionistically through Lucas, Cosey and guitarist Dominique Gaumont, it's positively shattering. This is Miles as he hadn't been heard since In a Silent Way, and definitely points the way to records like Tutu, The Man with the Horn, and even Decoy when he re-emerged.That's not to say the harder edges are absent: far from it. There's the off-world Latin funk of "Calypso Frelimo" from 1973, with John Stubblefield, Liebman, Cosey, and Lucas turning the rhythm section inside out as Miles sticks sharp knives of angular riffs and bleats into the middle of the mix, almost like a guitarist. Davis also moves the groove here with an organ and an electric piano to cover all the textural shapes. There's even a rather straight -- for Miles -- blues jam in "Red China Blues" from 1972, featuring Wally Chambers on harmonica and Cornell Dupree on guitar with a full brass arrangement. The set closes with another 1972 session, the endearing "Billy Preston," another of Davis' polyrhythmic funk exercises where the drummers and percussionists -- Al Foster, Badal Roy, and Mtume -- are up front with the trumpet, sax (Carlos Garrett), and keyboards (Cedric Lawson), while the strings -- Lucas, Henderson, and electric sitarist Khalil Balakrishna -- are shimmering, cooking, and painting the groove in the back. Billy Preston, the organist who the tune is named after, is nowhere present and neither is his instrument. It choogles along, shifting rhythms and meters while Miles tries like hell to slip another kind of groove through the band's armor, but it doesn't happen. The track fades, and then there is silence, a deafening silence that would not be filled until Miles' return six years later. This may be the most "commercial" sounding of all of Miles' electric records from the '70s, but it still sounds out there, alien, and futuristic in all the best ways, and Get Up with It is perhaps just coming into its own here in the 21st century.
When Get Up with It was released in 1974, critics -- let alone fans -- had a tough time with it. The package was a -- by then customary -- double LP, with sessions ranging from 1970-1974 and a large host of musicians who had indeed played on late-'60s and early-'70s recordings, including but not limited to Al Foster, Airto, John McLaughlin, Reggie Lucas, Pete Cosey, Mtume, David Liebman, Billy Cobham, Michael Henderson, Herbie Hancock, Keith Jarrett, Sonny Fortune, Steve Grossman, and others. The music felt, as was customary then, woven together from other sources by Miles and producer Teo Macero. However, these eight selections point in the direction of Miles saying goodbye, as he did for six years after this disc. This was a summation of all that jazz had been to Davis in the '70s and he was leaving it in yet another place altogether; check the opening track, "He Loved Him Madly," with its gorgeous shimmering organ vamp (not even credited to Miles) and its elaborate, decidedly slow, ambient unfolding -- yet with pronounced Ellingtonian lyricism -- over 33 minutes. Given three guitar players, flute, trumpet, bass, drums, and percussion, its restraint is remarkable. When Miles engages the organ formally as he does on the funky groove that moves through "Maiysha," with a shimmering grace that colors the proceedings impressionistically through Lucas, Cosey and guitarist Dominique Gaumont, it's positively shattering. This is Miles as he hadn't been heard since In a Silent Way, and definitely points the way to records like Tutu, The Man with the Horn, and even Decoy when he re-emerged.
That's not to say the harder edges are absent: far from it. There's the off-world Latin funk of "Calypso Frelimo" from 1973, with John Stubblefield, Liebman, Cosey, and Lucas turning the rhythm section inside out as Miles sticks sharp knives of angular riffs and bleats into the middle of the mix, almost like a guitarist. Davis also moves the groove here with an organ and an electric piano to cover all the textural shapes. There's even a rather straight -- for Miles -- blues jam in "Red China Blues" from 1972, featuring Wally Chambers on harmonica and Cornell Dupree on guitar with a full brass arrangement. The set closes with another 1972 session, the endearing "Billy Preston," another of Davis' polyrhythmic funk exercises where the drummers and percussionists -- Al Foster, Badal Roy, and Mtume -- are up front with the trumpet, sax (Carlos Garrett), and keyboards (Cedric Lawson), while the strings -- Lucas, Henderson, and electric sitarist Khalil Balakrishna -- are shimmering, cooking, and painting the groove in the back. Billy Preston, the organist who the tune is named after, is nowhere present and neither is his instrument. It choogles along, shifting rhythms and meters while Miles tries like hell to slip another kind of groove through the band's armor, but it doesn't happen. The track fades, and then there is silence, a deafening silence that would not be filled until Miles' return six years later. This may be the most "commercial" sounding of all of Miles' electric records from the '70s, but it still sounds out there, alien, and futuristic in all the best ways, and Get Up with It is perhaps just coming into its own here in the 21st century.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:45 (thirteen years ago)
Voting now ends tomorrow night in the POLLIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET (ILM artist poll #32 voting thread)
go vote!
Never been a fan of Back In The USA, hoping this isn't the last the appearance of the MC5
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:51 (thirteen years ago)
that was a tie with this...
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:53 (thirteen years ago)
147. LOU REED Metal Machine Music (1634 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: DNPhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/930/MI0000930223.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2g4i8tiNEGn1dCNYeuvixBspotify:album:2g4i8tiNEGn1dCNYeuvixB
Lou's answer to Environments has certainly raised consciousness in both the journalistic and business communities. Though it is a blatant rip-off, it is not--philistine cavils to the contrary--totally unlistenable. But for white noise I'll still take "Sister Ray." C+ -- R. ChristgauThis must have been as much of a shock to the majority of Reed’s fans as it was to their central nervous systems, as well as a fork in the socket to their expectations as well. Because from the moment side one begins until the locked inner groove that prevents side four from ending, it is a split channel, pole-axing severing of the nerves even for the first few minutes it is experienced for the first time. Why? Because it is NOISE: for noise’s sake, for art’s sake foe Pete’s sake, even. It doesn’t matter: noise it is and noise it will always be -- which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s to Lou Reed’s credit he chose to make such an utterly fan-alienating album such as this. A mere four years prior to the release of “Metal Machine Music” Bob Dylan released “Self Portrait” in an effort to cut back his fan base in an ‘Not everything I do is messianic, devotional or anything you might THINK it is or means and by the way the way I couldn’t give a rat’s ass’ gambit that STILL had A.J. Weberman reading hidden meaning into “All The Tired Horses.” And all the fans bought it anyway, while the Isle of Wight tracks were included as a sop to stem bootleggers and offer at least a little bit of Dylan to chew over and read into until the next album. “Metal Machine Music” offered no such polite escape route. I bet Greta Garbo would’ve loved to have released it instead of Lou (and me too, come to think of it) because only then would she well and truly have been left alone. What the hell was Lou Reed thinking when he cut this? All that malarkey about snatches of Vivaldi or some such other classical verse deeply hidden and ingrained in what is a dense mist of overdubbed electric guitar feedback and signal distortion? That’s pure bullshit, but then again, what would -- or could -- you do after The Velvet Underground? Bowie took Reed’s solo career and made it his own -- as he also did to Iggy and Mott’s. Fuck it -- he’d created this rock’n’roll Frankenstein called Lou Reed, so he’d destroy it, too. And he decided to do it the slow way: by feedback, and feedback alone. And since it was 1975, and this was a double album with a ludicrously misleading and mysteriously FANTASTIC cover with a live shot on the back, even the most unforgiving soul could easily understand at least a fraction of the initial purchases to be chalked up in the name of “Oops: thought it was a live album” even though two of THOSE had recently been released. But the tip-off should’ve been the archival reference ‘sticker’ on front, giving it the feeling of a laboratory experiment that escaped the clutches of its creator and the studio it was created in, fiendishly making its way to the pressing plant uttering “Feedback…GOOOD” as the sticky rolls of black vinyl became pressed into a hilarious amount of records that found themselves boomeranging immediately back the stores, the nearest garbage can or filed to the back of the record collections next to the sound effect and comedy records. Fittingly enough, as it IS a sound effect record: that of a disaffected pop star at his most brain-wrecked apogee. And it’s a comedy album, too -- Have YOU ever played this to someone for the first time? After a few seconds of side one, they’ll ask if it builds, or do any of the other sides have ‘songs’? And after you gleefully shake your head, they demand you take it off. But you don’t, because it starts to cross your mind how ridiculous it would look to a fly on the wall. Two friends in a room transformed into a psychologically airtight cell of feedbacking imprisonment, and one’s laughing his head off, as the other gets up and puts on his coat and leaves. Yeah, but this is only the entrée, as the album runs for (technically) as long as you want, and you’re only a few minutes into it. Straight feedback for ONE minute can be unendurable, so what’s the chance that 16x4 minutes...that’s 64 minutes! Over an hour, and that’s not counting the locked inner groove on side four! And who the hell ever got THAT far except maybe Reed himself and Lester Bangs?Well, I did. And I’m not proud of the fact. In fact, it smacks of the sort of heroism I generally find myself getting snide about. But it all started when a friend wanted a tape of it (No, I’m not kidding.) And I thought it was so special a request that I decided to honour the proceedings by listening to it in its entirety while I taped it and fill up a C-90 with the whole thing. This would leave the locked groove to repeat for -- what -- however long it took to fill up the second side; twenty five minutes, maybe? And no cheating, either: no gnawing nails watching the tape spool into the first sign of the clear leader of the cassette through the smoked grey glass of the deck. No way. This would be art or masochism or whichever came first.Side one started off OK, it being the most ‘familiar’ territory of “Metal Machine Music” only because that’s about as far as most people ever get. Completely understandable. By side two, emotional and psychological barriers began to crumble at the edges as the album blared out its discord all around the room with nowhere to go but inside my ears. It was torture when I thought about it, but I persevered. The feelings of agitation and a growing rage at everything for no reason began to build on side three. My pulse and breathing had accelerated within the course of 16 minutes, and now I was practically panting. By the time side four rolled around, I had pretty much confirmed that “Metal Machine Music” was somehow changing my chemical makeup. I didn’t think so -- because my thought process had mutated into a kind of mental trench warfare while the wall of buzzing white noise continually erupted. I was holding onto a thread as the repeating inner groove approached. And after this, that most precious freedom: silence. Non-“Metal Machine Music” for life. And I could inform others and tell them it wasn’t just a ‘fuck you’ to his fans but art that was as demanding and debilitating as anything I had ever heard. It pins you like a butterfly to a collector’s matte board. It’s jarring, and sonically speaking, there’s no way out. By side two, you’ll start hearing EVERYTHING: Alka Seltzer commercial jingles, cut ups of old Elton John singles distorted and at the wrong speed, ’68-period Beatle backward maskings, your parents yelling turn it off and every other orgasm you’ve ever had in your sleep staggered and stuttered into a mindless oblivion of repeated ness until the chipmunk squealing starts in again and you were wishing you were listening to “Several Species Of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together In A Cave And Grooving With A Pict” instead. The whole effect is that of an ever jerking, blurry video camera shoot that only captures contour not line and bleeding over-saturated colour, not shade. And speaking of shade, there’s none to be found on “Metal Machine Music.” It’s completely exposed to the sun, staring at it for hours without fear of blindness. And while listening to it, even the mere act of sitting becomes oddly objectified. Everything you do becomes ‘Something you did when you listened to “Metal Machine Music”’ and language, sound and soon all thought whatsoever are wiped out by the constant strains of overdubbed feedback guitars singing your body electric in a fry out of the most epic proportions. By side four, the harmonics start to favour more high-end frequencies, and something approaching melody begins to faintly appear behind the heavy curtain of distortion, but…backwards...sort of. But in this kind of extreme musical terrain, aural hallucinations run rampant as there are no conventional compass points like rhythm, vocals or the like to rein them in. There’s no beginning or end to “Metal Machine Music” -- it’s all middle. It’s minimalism at its ultimate terminus.It’s like an impressionistic painting, but rendered only in violent streaks of red, purple and black. And those colors are of the highest frequency in the spectrum; here they are painted over with not merely black but with jagged tar that congeals forever upon its surface.It’s a cleansing of the aural palette, but on the level of cleaning a tabletop by sandblasting it to smithereens. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
This must have been as much of a shock to the majority of Reed’s fans as it was to their central nervous systems, as well as a fork in the socket to their expectations as well. Because from the moment side one begins until the locked inner groove that prevents side four from ending, it is a split channel, pole-axing severing of the nerves even for the first few minutes it is experienced for the first time. Why? Because it is NOISE: for noise’s sake, for art’s sake foe Pete’s sake, even. It doesn’t matter: noise it is and noise it will always be -- which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s to Lou Reed’s credit he chose to make such an utterly fan-alienating album such as this. A mere four years prior to the release of “Metal Machine Music” Bob Dylan released “Self Portrait” in an effort to cut back his fan base in an ‘Not everything I do is messianic, devotional or anything you might THINK it is or means and by the way the way I couldn’t give a rat’s ass’ gambit that STILL had A.J. Weberman reading hidden meaning into “All The Tired Horses.” And all the fans bought it anyway, while the Isle of Wight tracks were included as a sop to stem bootleggers and offer at least a little bit of Dylan to chew over and read into until the next album.
“Metal Machine Music” offered no such polite escape route. I bet Greta Garbo would’ve loved to have released it instead of Lou (and me too, come to think of it) because only then would she well and truly have been left alone. What the hell was Lou Reed thinking when he cut this? All that malarkey about snatches of Vivaldi or some such other classical verse deeply hidden and ingrained in what is a dense mist of overdubbed electric guitar feedback and signal distortion? That’s pure bullshit, but then again, what would -- or could -- you do after The Velvet Underground? Bowie took Reed’s solo career and made it his own -- as he also did to Iggy and Mott’s. Fuck it -- he’d created this rock’n’roll Frankenstein called Lou Reed, so he’d destroy it, too.
And he decided to do it the slow way: by feedback, and feedback alone.
And since it was 1975, and this was a double album with a ludicrously misleading and mysteriously FANTASTIC cover with a live shot on the back, even the most unforgiving soul could easily understand at least a fraction of the initial purchases to be chalked up in the name of “Oops: thought it was a live album” even though two of THOSE had recently been released. But the tip-off should’ve been the archival reference ‘sticker’ on front, giving it the feeling of a laboratory experiment that escaped the clutches of its creator and the studio it was created in, fiendishly making its way to the pressing plant uttering “Feedback…GOOOD” as the sticky rolls of black vinyl became pressed into a hilarious amount of records that found themselves boomeranging immediately back the stores, the nearest garbage can or filed to the back of the record collections next to the sound effect and comedy records. Fittingly enough, as it IS a sound effect record: that of a disaffected pop star at his most brain-wrecked apogee. And it’s a comedy album, too -- Have YOU ever played this to someone for the first time? After a few seconds of side one, they’ll ask if it builds, or do any of the other sides have ‘songs’? And after you gleefully shake your head, they demand you take it off. But you don’t, because it starts to cross your mind how ridiculous it would look to a fly on the wall. Two friends in a room transformed into a psychologically airtight cell of feedbacking imprisonment, and one’s laughing his head off, as the other gets up and puts on his coat and leaves. Yeah, but this is only the entrée, as the album runs for (technically) as long as you want, and you’re only a few minutes into it. Straight feedback for ONE minute can be unendurable, so what’s the chance that 16x4 minutes...that’s 64 minutes! Over an hour, and that’s not counting the locked inner groove on side four! And who the hell ever got THAT far except maybe Reed himself and Lester Bangs?
Well, I did. And I’m not proud of the fact. In fact, it smacks of the sort of heroism I generally find myself getting snide about. But it all started when a friend wanted a tape of it (No, I’m not kidding.) And I thought it was so special a request that I decided to honour the proceedings by listening to it in its entirety while I taped it and fill up a C-90 with the whole thing. This would leave the locked groove to repeat for -- what -- however long it took to fill up the second side; twenty five minutes, maybe? And no cheating, either: no gnawing nails watching the tape spool into the first sign of the clear leader of the cassette through the smoked grey glass of the deck. No way. This would be art or masochism or whichever came first.
Side one started off OK, it being the most ‘familiar’ territory of “Metal Machine Music” only because that’s about as far as most people ever get. Completely understandable. By side two, emotional and psychological barriers began to crumble at the edges as the album blared out its discord all around the room with nowhere to go but inside my ears. It was torture when I thought about it, but I persevered. The feelings of agitation and a growing rage at everything for no reason began to build on side three. My pulse and breathing had accelerated within the course of 16 minutes, and now I was practically panting. By the time side four rolled around, I had pretty much confirmed that “Metal Machine Music” was somehow changing my chemical makeup. I didn’t think so -- because my thought process had mutated into a kind of mental trench warfare while the wall of buzzing white noise continually erupted. I was holding onto a thread as the repeating inner groove approached. And after this, that most precious freedom: silence. Non-“Metal Machine Music” for life. And I could inform others and tell them it wasn’t just a ‘fuck you’ to his fans but art that was as demanding and debilitating as anything I had ever heard. It pins you like a butterfly to a collector’s matte board. It’s jarring, and sonically speaking, there’s no way out. By side two, you’ll start hearing EVERYTHING: Alka Seltzer commercial jingles, cut ups of old Elton John singles distorted and at the wrong speed, ’68-period Beatle backward maskings, your parents yelling turn it off and every other orgasm you’ve ever had in your sleep staggered and stuttered into a mindless oblivion of repeated ness until the chipmunk squealing starts in again and you were wishing you were listening to “Several Species Of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together In A Cave And Grooving With A Pict” instead. The whole effect is that of an ever jerking, blurry video camera shoot that only captures contour not line and bleeding over-saturated colour, not shade. And speaking of shade, there’s none to be found on “Metal Machine Music.” It’s completely exposed to the sun, staring at it for hours without fear of blindness. And while listening to it, even the mere act of sitting becomes oddly objectified. Everything you do becomes ‘Something you did when you listened to “Metal Machine Music”’ and language, sound and soon all thought whatsoever are wiped out by the constant strains of overdubbed feedback guitars singing your body electric in a fry out of the most epic proportions. By side four, the harmonics start to favour more high-end frequencies, and something approaching melody begins to faintly appear behind the heavy curtain of distortion, but…backwards...sort of. But in this kind of extreme musical terrain, aural hallucinations run rampant as there are no conventional compass points like rhythm, vocals or the like to rein them in. There’s no beginning or end to “Metal Machine Music” -- it’s all middle. It’s minimalism at its ultimate terminus.
It’s like an impressionistic painting, but rendered only in violent streaks of red, purple and black. And those colors are of the highest frequency in the spectrum; here they are painted over with not merely black but with jagged tar that congeals forever upon its surface.It’s a cleansing of the aural palette, but on the level of cleaning a tabletop by sandblasting it to smithereens. -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage
eview[-] by Mark DemingOne would be hard-pressed to name a major artist who ever released an album as thoroughly alienating as Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music; at a time when noise rock and punk had yet to make their presence known, Reed released this 64-minute aural assault that offered up a densely layered soundscape constructed from feedback, distortion, and atonal guitar runs sped up or slowed down until they were all but unrecognizable. Metal Machine Music seems a bit less startling today, now that bands like Sonic Youth and the Boredoms have created some sort of context for it, but it hasn't gotten any more user friendly with time -- while Thurston Moore may go nuts on his guitar like this for three or four minutes at a stretch, Metal Machine Music goes on and on and on for over an hour, pausing only for side breaks with no rhythms, melodies, or formal structures to buffer the onslaught. If you're brave enough to listen to the whole thing, it's hard not to marvel at the scope of Reed's obsession; it's obvious he spent a lot of time on these layered sheets of noise, and enthusiasts of the violent guitar freakout may find it pleasing in short bursts. But confronting Metal Machine Music from front to back in one sitting is an experience that's both brutal and numbing. It's hard to say what Lou Reed had in mind when he made Metal Machine Music, and Reed has done little to clarify the issue over the years, though he summed it up quite pointedly in an interview in which he said, "Well, anyone who gets to side four is dumber than I am." For the record, I did get to side four. But I got paid for it.
One would be hard-pressed to name a major artist who ever released an album as thoroughly alienating as Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music; at a time when noise rock and punk had yet to make their presence known, Reed released this 64-minute aural assault that offered up a densely layered soundscape constructed from feedback, distortion, and atonal guitar runs sped up or slowed down until they were all but unrecognizable. Metal Machine Music seems a bit less startling today, now that bands like Sonic Youth and the Boredoms have created some sort of context for it, but it hasn't gotten any more user friendly with time -- while Thurston Moore may go nuts on his guitar like this for three or four minutes at a stretch, Metal Machine Music goes on and on and on for over an hour, pausing only for side breaks with no rhythms, melodies, or formal structures to buffer the onslaught. If you're brave enough to listen to the whole thing, it's hard not to marvel at the scope of Reed's obsession; it's obvious he spent a lot of time on these layered sheets of noise, and enthusiasts of the violent guitar freakout may find it pleasing in short bursts. But confronting Metal Machine Music from front to back in one sitting is an experience that's both brutal and numbing. It's hard to say what Lou Reed had in mind when he made Metal Machine Music, and Reed has done little to clarify the issue over the years, though he summed it up quite pointedly in an interview in which he said, "Well, anyone who gets to side four is dumber than I am." For the record, I did get to side four. But I got paid for it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:55 (thirteen years ago)
TOO LOU
― honest st john (wins), Saturday, 23 March 2013 19:59 (thirteen years ago)
146. CAPTAIN BEYOND Captain Beyond (1638 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #38 for 1972 , #876 overall http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/624/MI0000624489.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6hZXRqhtkQUmLHOldFAMBnspotify:album:6hZXRqhtkQUmLHOldFAMBn
If you dig: Hard Rock, Prog, Santana. Recorded in a mere two days and dedicated to Duane Alman who died in a motorcycle accident several months before its release, was millions of light years away form Southern Rock and therefore did not receive the approrpiate promotion from the record company. Thsi is incredibly unfortunate, since this is of of the best and most perfect albums made in the period of time this book covers bar none. It's not easy to label or pinpoint Captain Beyond. It's a splendid combination of Progressive Rock and edgy Hard Rock, Space Rock's lyricism and Latin and jazzy grooves which Caldwell dictates and changes occasionally. The album never seems to rest, not even for a moment, and every song bleeds into the next one, one riff flows to the other and creates a brilliant intended chaos. NOt a single weak track among the bunch, mainly because the album feels like one track divided almost arbitrarily. Sometimes it resembles The Moody Blues, sometimes Santana and sometimes Evans' ex-band. The experience of listening to Captain Beyond can only be interpreted as travelling inside a powerful rocketship. Loved it? Try: Asoka, Jade Warrior. -- R. ChelledCaptain Beyond’s self-titled 1972 debut is something of an anomaly in the annals of overlooked 70’s hard rock albums. Whereas most obscure riff-head stoners of the era, your Fuzzy Ducks, your Leaf Hounds for example, feature trebly, virtually non-existent production and straight from the garage musicianship, “Captain Beyond” is the sound of a group of seasoned pros flexing their musical muscles, excited by the possibilities of their new group.Formed in the early 70’s, Captain Beyond featured former Deep Purple vocalist Rod Evans, Iron Butterfly guitarist Larry “Rhino” Rheinhart, bassist Lee Dorman, also from Iron Butterfly and Drummer Bobby Caldwell who had played with Johnny Winter. Although none of these guys are household names, the talent of each member is vividly on display on this self-titled debut, a combination of post-Hendrix power riffage and progressive rock lyrics and time signatures. Although not a concept album per se, each song forms part of a whole, with each track bleeding into the next one and consisting of many suite-like sections.The Album begins with Caldwell’s technically accomplished yet funky drumbeat kicking of “Dancing Madly Backwards” which also forms the first part of a suite with the next two songs, “Armworth” and “Myopic Void”. Evans sings about “dancing madly backwards, dancing on a sea” and how underneath his lover their “lies a sea of bliss”. Yes, the lyrics aren’t likely to blow any listeners away, but that’s not the good Captain’s strongpoint. Instead, concentrate on the music, which is propelled by Caldwell’s ultra-precise yet rockin’ drumming. His virtuosity makes the song-to-song and section-to-section transitions seem smooth and natural, and by the time the group gets to the trippy slide guitar and harmonized chants in “Myopic Void” the listener can’t help but bask in the acid-fried glory. A brief reprise of “Dancing Madly Backwards” brings everything to a nice close.Up Next are two standalone rockers, “Mesmerization Eclipse” and “Raging River of fear”. These two songs are the most straightforward on the album, with a memorable riff forming the basis of both songs, but they still contain various twists and changes in tempo to make you remember that these cats are “progressive” in their musical ambition.Were back in suite-land for the next part of the album, “Thousand Days of Yesterday/Frozen Over”, which is also the low point of the album in this reviewer’s opinion. It’s not unlistenable by any stretch, but some bubble-gum backing vocals mar certain parts, and as a whole, it never really catches fire the way the best parts of the album do. Also, Evens injects a few to many “mamas” in “Frozen Over”, as if he was singing about the juice running down his leg instead of…what ever it is he’s singing about. Oh well, it was the early 70’s and The Zep was already well on their way to world domination, perhaps the boys thought such lyrics were a requirement for record sales.Finally, we get to the last part of the record, “I can’t feel nothin’/As the Moon Speaks”. Despite an ill advised spoken word part (NEVER a good idea in rock music) in “As the Moon Speaks”. The band brings the album to a frenzied finale, with power riffs and calculus professor time signatures galore, and it is arguably this track that shows the tightness of the musician’s best. What’s also remarkable is how concise the band is, fitting 13 tracks into less than 36 minutes. In an era when bands were starting to decide that a song about whales would need to take up and entire side of vinyl, the band’s restraint in downright commendable.With the exception of a few of the vocals, “Captain Beyond” stands the test of time quite well, sounding fully produced but not slick, and displaying a near punk sense of economy. It’s also one of the best fusions of hard rock with a progressive nature, something few bands get right. Sadly the group would never sound this good again, producing two more albums that range from okay (their second) to crap (their third). Thankfully, they left this debut, which, although not as famous as their previous bands work, is the best example of their talent as musicians. -- Brandon Tenold, Head Heritage
It's not easy to label or pinpoint Captain Beyond. It's a splendid combination of Progressive Rock and edgy Hard Rock, Space Rock's lyricism and Latin and jazzy grooves which Caldwell dictates and changes occasionally. The album never seems to rest, not even for a moment, and every song bleeds into the next one, one riff flows to the other and creates a brilliant intended chaos. NOt a single weak track among the bunch, mainly because the album feels like one track divided almost arbitrarily. Sometimes it resembles The Moody Blues, sometimes Santana and sometimes Evans' ex-band. The experience of listening to Captain Beyond can only be interpreted as travelling inside a powerful rocketship. Loved it? Try: Asoka, Jade Warrior. -- R. Chelled
Captain Beyond’s self-titled 1972 debut is something of an anomaly in the annals of overlooked 70’s hard rock albums. Whereas most obscure riff-head stoners of the era, your Fuzzy Ducks, your Leaf Hounds for example, feature trebly, virtually non-existent production and straight from the garage musicianship, “Captain Beyond” is the sound of a group of seasoned pros flexing their musical muscles, excited by the possibilities of their new group.
Formed in the early 70’s, Captain Beyond featured former Deep Purple vocalist Rod Evans, Iron Butterfly guitarist Larry “Rhino” Rheinhart, bassist Lee Dorman, also from Iron Butterfly and Drummer Bobby Caldwell who had played with Johnny Winter. Although none of these guys are household names, the talent of each member is vividly on display on this self-titled debut, a combination of post-Hendrix power riffage and progressive rock lyrics and time signatures. Although not a concept album per se, each song forms part of a whole, with each track bleeding into the next one and consisting of many suite-like sections.
The Album begins with Caldwell’s technically accomplished yet funky drumbeat kicking of “Dancing Madly Backwards” which also forms the first part of a suite with the next two songs, “Armworth” and “Myopic Void”. Evans sings about “dancing madly backwards, dancing on a sea” and how underneath his lover their “lies a sea of bliss”. Yes, the lyrics aren’t likely to blow any listeners away, but that’s not the good Captain’s strongpoint. Instead, concentrate on the music, which is propelled by Caldwell’s ultra-precise yet rockin’ drumming. His virtuosity makes the song-to-song and section-to-section transitions seem smooth and natural, and by the time the group gets to the trippy slide guitar and harmonized chants in “Myopic Void” the listener can’t help but bask in the acid-fried glory. A brief reprise of “Dancing Madly Backwards” brings everything to a nice close.
Up Next are two standalone rockers, “Mesmerization Eclipse” and “Raging River of fear”. These two songs are the most straightforward on the album, with a memorable riff forming the basis of both songs, but they still contain various twists and changes in tempo to make you remember that these cats are “progressive” in their musical ambition.
Were back in suite-land for the next part of the album, “Thousand Days of Yesterday/Frozen Over”, which is also the low point of the album in this reviewer’s opinion. It’s not unlistenable by any stretch, but some bubble-gum backing vocals mar certain parts, and as a whole, it never really catches fire the way the best parts of the album do. Also, Evens injects a few to many “mamas” in “Frozen Over”, as if he was singing about the juice running down his leg instead of…what ever it is he’s singing about. Oh well, it was the early 70’s and The Zep was already well on their way to world domination, perhaps the boys thought such lyrics were a requirement for record sales.
Finally, we get to the last part of the record, “I can’t feel nothin’/As the Moon Speaks”. Despite an ill advised spoken word part (NEVER a good idea in rock music) in “As the Moon Speaks”. The band brings the album to a frenzied finale, with power riffs and calculus professor time signatures galore, and it is arguably this track that shows the tightness of the musician’s best. What’s also remarkable is how concise the band is, fitting 13 tracks into less than 36 minutes. In an era when bands were starting to decide that a song about whales would need to take up and entire side of vinyl, the band’s restraint in downright commendable.
With the exception of a few of the vocals, “Captain Beyond” stands the test of time quite well, sounding fully produced but not slick, and displaying a near punk sense of economy. It’s also one of the best fusions of hard rock with a progressive nature, something few bands get right. Sadly the group would never sound this good again, producing two more albums that range from okay (their second) to crap (their third). Thankfully, they left this debut, which, although not as famous as their previous bands work, is the best example of their talent as musicians. -- Brandon Tenold, Head Heritage
review[-] by Michael OfjordCaptain Beyond is a one-of-a-kind progressive album with rock, heavy metal, and jazz influences with a "space rock" lyrical bend. Formed by former members of Deep Purple (Rod Evans, vocals), Iron Butterfly (Rhino, lead guitar, and Lee Dorman, bass), and Johnny Winter (Bobby Caldwell, drums) Captain Beyond is an album that flows from riff to riff, drumbeat to drumbeat, often with various time signatures within the same song. Taking a tip from the Moody Blues, songs flow directly into each other without benefit of any lag time between selections. Taken as a whole, the album is kind of a rush, as quick, riff-laden guitar lines predominate for a few songs before slowing down temporarily into a lull until the next takeoff. Lyrically, the album differentiates itself by exploring themes of the outer world and meanings of existence, often with references to the moon, sea, sun, and so on. Listeners may get the feeling of taking a journey to space in a rocket ship headed for destination unknown. Musically, the album is superior in all aspects. Rod Evans has a strong rock voice, Rhino plays an enormous amount of hook-laden guitar lines, and Lee Dorman plays complex basslines (for example, at the end of "As the Moon Speaks-Return") that lead to typically rhythmic, nimble Bobby Caldwell drumming. The tightness between musicians is enormous, never lets up for long, and leaves the listener feeling like the ride should continue for the indefinite future.
Captain Beyond is a one-of-a-kind progressive album with rock, heavy metal, and jazz influences with a "space rock" lyrical bend. Formed by former members of Deep Purple (Rod Evans, vocals), Iron Butterfly (Rhino, lead guitar, and Lee Dorman, bass), and Johnny Winter (Bobby Caldwell, drums) Captain Beyond is an album that flows from riff to riff, drumbeat to drumbeat, often with various time signatures within the same song. Taking a tip from the Moody Blues, songs flow directly into each other without benefit of any lag time between selections. Taken as a whole, the album is kind of a rush, as quick, riff-laden guitar lines predominate for a few songs before slowing down temporarily into a lull until the next takeoff. Lyrically, the album differentiates itself by exploring themes of the outer world and meanings of existence, often with references to the moon, sea, sun, and so on. Listeners may get the feeling of taking a journey to space in a rocket ship headed for destination unknown. Musically, the album is superior in all aspects. Rod Evans has a strong rock voice, Rhino plays an enormous amount of hook-laden guitar lines, and Lee Dorman plays complex basslines (for example, at the end of "As the Moon Speaks-Return") that lead to typically rhythmic, nimble Bobby Caldwell drumming. The tightness between musicians is enormous, never lets up for long, and leaves the listener feeling like the ride should continue for the indefinite future.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:00 (thirteen years ago)
Aw, MMM is so great.
― emil.y, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:00 (thirteen years ago)
Have we had Berlin yet? Cos lols if this is the highest Lou in the poll. Probably prefer MMM myself, but It would certainly be an unconventional result.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:01 (thirteen years ago)
metal machine music was my #2, it is a beautiful thing & lou can be forgiven so much for having birthed it
― honest st john (wins), Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:02 (thirteen years ago)
taking it down to 140 tonight btw
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:06 (thirteen years ago)
and tomorrow down to 121
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:07 (thirteen years ago)
145. HIGH TIDE High Tide (1645 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #188 for 1970http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/021/MI0002021066.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/2llyB6pfedAwMjL5E9tqLqspotify:album:2llyB6pfedAwMjL5E9tqLq
review[-] by Wilson NeateIn 1969, Sea Shanties established High Tide as one of Britain's heaviest bands and the choice of George Chkiantz (who had previously worked with Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin) as co-producer for their second album seemed to signal the group's intention to continue in the same direction. In comparison with their hefty debut, however, the self-titled follow-up is a relatively subdued affair. The interplay of guitarist Tony Hill and violinist Simon House is still very much at the core of High Tide's distinctive hybrid of psychedelia, prog, and hard rock, but while Hill lays down his characteristically intricate, searing guitar lines, he forgoes the sort of weighty, molten riffage that made Sea Shanties such a behemoth. Without that overall sonic density, this album fails to engage listeners as readily as its predecessor. On the record's most psychedelic number, "Blankman Cries Again," Hill and House's repetitive grooves become more monotonous than hypnotic over the track's eight and a half minutes. Marginally better is the four-part, quarter-hour "Saneonymous," which breaks up the lengthy stretches of dueling guitar and violin with more conventional song-based folk-rock. Nevertheless, the standout is "The Joke," a prog-flavored number that doesn't outstay its welcome. This is largely thanks to a greater diversity in the song's arrangement, which incorporates varied tempos, stronger melodic dimensions (particularly in Hill's vocals and House's less frantic, pastoral violin), some Fripp-esque noodling, and a trippy guitar interlude that evokes the Grateful Dead's "Dark Star." However, alongside Sea Shanties, this unimaginatively titled, three-track, 32-minute album finds High Tide at a disappointing low ebb, as if ideas and energy were already drying up. Indeed, this would be the band's last official studio album during its lifetime.
In 1969, Sea Shanties established High Tide as one of Britain's heaviest bands and the choice of George Chkiantz (who had previously worked with Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin) as co-producer for their second album seemed to signal the group's intention to continue in the same direction. In comparison with their hefty debut, however, the self-titled follow-up is a relatively subdued affair. The interplay of guitarist Tony Hill and violinist Simon House is still very much at the core of High Tide's distinctive hybrid of psychedelia, prog, and hard rock, but while Hill lays down his characteristically intricate, searing guitar lines, he forgoes the sort of weighty, molten riffage that made Sea Shanties such a behemoth. Without that overall sonic density, this album fails to engage listeners as readily as its predecessor. On the record's most psychedelic number, "Blankman Cries Again," Hill and House's repetitive grooves become more monotonous than hypnotic over the track's eight and a half minutes. Marginally better is the four-part, quarter-hour "Saneonymous," which breaks up the lengthy stretches of dueling guitar and violin with more conventional song-based folk-rock. Nevertheless, the standout is "The Joke," a prog-flavored number that doesn't outstay its welcome. This is largely thanks to a greater diversity in the song's arrangement, which incorporates varied tempos, stronger melodic dimensions (particularly in Hill's vocals and House's less frantic, pastoral violin), some Fripp-esque noodling, and a trippy guitar interlude that evokes the Grateful Dead's "Dark Star." However, alongside Sea Shanties, this unimaginatively titled, three-track, 32-minute album finds High Tide at a disappointing low ebb, as if ideas and energy were already drying up. Indeed, this would be the band's last official studio album during its lifetime.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:16 (thirteen years ago)
Strange to see this place so high considering its quite inferior to the 1st album. Some goodwill towards it from people discovering Sea Shanties?Or did people get confused as there's a Spotify version with both albums on it?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:17 (thirteen years ago)
Literally stunned High Tide places higher than Captain Beyond and Death Walks Behind You ...
― BlackIronPrison, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:18 (thirteen years ago)
never heard of this!
― honest st john (wins), Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:19 (thirteen years ago)
Re disco upthread: In the early days of the Loft/Gallery/Sanctuary/etc there was no such thing as "disco music" as a stylistic genre, it's only later that the feedback loop from clubs to musicians was completed. The early underground NYC discos more or less played funk/soul that even AG would approve of. First big disco track might be Girl You Need a Change of Mind (1972), might be Soul Makossa (discovered by DJs, charted in 1973), first 12" singles were 1975 (Call Me Your Anything Man).
Wikipedia sez:
According to the music guide, there is disagreement as to what the first disco song was. Claims have been made for Manu Dibango's "Soul Makossa" (1972), Jerry Butler's "One Night Affair" (1972), the Hues Corporation's "Rock the Boat" (1973), George McCrae's "Rock Your Baby" (1974),[6][20] and "Kung Fu Fighting" (1974) by Biddu and Carl Douglas.[21] The first article about disco was written in September 1973 by Vince Aletti for Rolling Stone magazine.[22][23] In 1974 New York City's WPIX-FM premiered the first disco radio show.[19]
― SEO Speedwagon (seandalai), Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:23 (thirteen years ago)
xp me either, more to check out!
― Neil S, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:23 (thirteen years ago)
144. THE RESIDENTS Duck Stab/Buster & Glen (1657 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #59 for 1978 , #2423 overallhttp://mvdb2b.com/i/300dpi/MVD5452LP.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5skRVvGxMroZnQxtJe1731spotify:album:5skRVvGxMroZnQxtJe1731
Much to my annoyance, I not only find myself nyaahing along to these weird, misanthropic, exuberantly absurdist post-art-rock fragments, I find myself giggling. Just the thing to divert precocious but obnoxious ten-year-olds. A- -- R. ChristgauDuck Stab was originally released as a 7-inch EP — the group at its most consistently accessible — but was enlarged to album size by the Buster & Glen half (also succinctly catchy and humorous). Noteworthy here is the dominance of songs with vocals, and the emergence of the distinctive voice of a Resident who eventually became the group's onlyvoice. A 1987 reissue of the album dropped Buster and Glen from the title; the CD of the same name appends Goosebump (the B-side suite of the Diskomo 12-inch) and a swell lyric book. -- Trouser Press
Duck Stab was originally released as a 7-inch EP — the group at its most consistently accessible — but was enlarged to album size by the Buster & Glen half (also succinctly catchy and humorous). Noteworthy here is the dominance of songs with vocals, and the emergence of the distinctive voice of a Resident who eventually became the group's onlyvoice. A 1987 reissue of the album dropped Buster and Glen from the title; the CD of the same name appends Goosebump (the B-side suite of the Diskomo 12-inch) and a swell lyric book. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Ted MillsIt was with this album that the Residents perfected, for one brief moment, the dark, mysterious twisted pop song that raised their profile in the experimental music scene and college radio world. The songs contained here (a combination of two EPs of earlier that year, Duck Stab and Buster and Glen) are short, the lyrics obscure but precise, the analog synth sounds masterful. Like Brian Eno, the Residents' lyrics were more about the sound of the words than the meaning, and what is here on Duck Stab is in the tradition of such absurdists as Odgen Nash or Lewis Carroll ("An oily old egg with a red peg leg/Thought a porcupine was his daughter" goes the hillbilly singer on "The Laughing Song"). The music varies from romantic (swirling, muddy synths on "Blue Rosebuds") and lyrical ("Semolina") to frightening and ambiguous ("Hello Skinny," one of the group's best songs), while stopping to twist the surf genre ("Weight Lifting Lulu," which sounds like the Ventures under heavy flu medication) and R&B ("The Booker Tease" -- get it?). The group could have followed in this vein rather successfully, that they didn't for much longer is testiment to their dogged devotion to experimentation at all costs. Released on CD with four (rather pointless) adaptations of nursery rhymes called "Goosebump," originally the b-side of Diskomo. The re-release removes them.
It was with this album that the Residents perfected, for one brief moment, the dark, mysterious twisted pop song that raised their profile in the experimental music scene and college radio world. The songs contained here (a combination of two EPs of earlier that year, Duck Stab and Buster and Glen) are short, the lyrics obscure but precise, the analog synth sounds masterful. Like Brian Eno, the Residents' lyrics were more about the sound of the words than the meaning, and what is here on Duck Stab is in the tradition of such absurdists as Odgen Nash or Lewis Carroll ("An oily old egg with a red peg leg/Thought a porcupine was his daughter" goes the hillbilly singer on "The Laughing Song"). The music varies from romantic (swirling, muddy synths on "Blue Rosebuds") and lyrical ("Semolina") to frightening and ambiguous ("Hello Skinny," one of the group's best songs), while stopping to twist the surf genre ("Weight Lifting Lulu," which sounds like the Ventures under heavy flu medication) and R&B ("The Booker Tease" -- get it?). The group could have followed in this vein rather successfully, that they didn't for much longer is testiment to their dogged devotion to experimentation at all costs. Released on CD with four (rather pointless) adaptations of nursery rhymes called "Goosebump," originally the b-side of Diskomo. The re-release removes them.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:30 (thirteen years ago)
My decision to sell all my Residents records about 15 years ago was probably one of my sillier ideas :(
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:39 (thirteen years ago)
Think these albums are probably in the right order though iirc
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:40 (thirteen years ago)
143. BETTY DAVIS Nasty Gal (1660 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #168 for 1975http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/660/MI0000660676.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Nasty Gal (1975) was just as great, including the powerful kiss-off to the media, “Dedicated To The Press.”With big stars like MeShell NdegeOcello, Macy Gray, Kelis and Missy Elliot owing so much to Betty Davis’ pioneering work, it’s a shame she hasn’t enjoyed more fame and fortune, though she certainly gets respect from her peers. It looks like things will change, with the MOJO article, a rumored documentary on women of funk focusing on Davis, and a reissue of her three albums in the 2CD Talkin’ Trash: The Definitive Betty Davis on Aztec Music . -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Thom JurekFunk diva Betty Davis was supposed to break big upon the release of her third album, Nasty Gal. After all, her Just Sunshine Records contract had been bought up by Chris Blackwell and Island Records, and they were prepared to invest not only big money in the recording, but in the promotion of the 1975 release. Davis and her well-seasoned road band, Funk House, entered the studio with total artistic control in the making of the album. This set contains classic and often raunchy street funk anthems such as the title track (with its infamous anthemic lyric: "...You said I love you every way but your way/And my way was too dirty for ya now...." ), "Talkin' Trash," "Dedicated to the Press," and the musically ancestral tribute "F.U.N.K." It also features the beautiful, moving, uncharacteristic ballad "You and I," co-written with her ex-husband, Miles Davis, and orchestrated by none other than Gil Evans. It's the only track like it on the record, but it's a stunner. The album is revered as much for its musical quality as its risqué lyrical content. This quartet distilled the Sly Stone funk-rock manifesto and propelled it with real force. Check the unbelievable twinning of guitar and bassline in "Feelins" that underscore, note for note, Davis' vocals. The drive is akin to hardcore punk rock, but so funky it brought Rick James himself to the altar to worship (as he later confessed in interviews). And in the instrumental break, the interplay between the rhythm section (bassist Larry Johnson and drummer Semmie "Nicky" Neal, Jr.) and guitarist Carlos Moralesis held to the ground only by Fred Mills' keyboards. In essence, the album is missing nothing: it's perfect, a classic of the genre in that it pushed every popular genre with young people toward a blurred center that got inside the backbone while smacking you in the face. Heard through headphones, its spaced out psychedelic effects, combined with the nastiest funk rock on the block, is simply shocking. The fact that the album didn't perform the way it should have among the populace wasn't the fault of Davis and her band, who went out and toured their collective butts off, or Island who poured tens of thousands of dollars into radio and press promotion, or the press itself (reviews were almost universally positive). The record seemed to rock way too hard for Black radio, and was far too funky for White rock radio. In the 21st century, however, it sounds right on time. Light in the Attic Records has remastered the original tapes painstakingly for the first North American release of this set on CD. As is their trademark, they've done a stellar job both aurally and visually, as the digipack is spectacular. The set also features a definitive historical essay by John Ballon.
Funk diva Betty Davis was supposed to break big upon the release of her third album, Nasty Gal. After all, her Just Sunshine Records contract had been bought up by Chris Blackwell and Island Records, and they were prepared to invest not only big money in the recording, but in the promotion of the 1975 release. Davis and her well-seasoned road band, Funk House, entered the studio with total artistic control in the making of the album. This set contains classic and often raunchy street funk anthems such as the title track (with its infamous anthemic lyric: "...You said I love you every way but your way/And my way was too dirty for ya now...." ), "Talkin' Trash," "Dedicated to the Press," and the musically ancestral tribute "F.U.N.K." It also features the beautiful, moving, uncharacteristic ballad "You and I," co-written with her ex-husband, Miles Davis, and orchestrated by none other than Gil Evans. It's the only track like it on the record, but it's a stunner. The album is revered as much for its musical quality as its risqué lyrical content. This quartet distilled the Sly Stone funk-rock manifesto and propelled it with real force. Check the unbelievable twinning of guitar and bassline in "Feelins" that underscore, note for note, Davis' vocals. The drive is akin to hardcore punk rock, but so funky it brought Rick James himself to the altar to worship (as he later confessed in interviews). And in the instrumental break, the interplay between the rhythm section (bassist Larry Johnson and drummer Semmie "Nicky" Neal, Jr.) and guitarist Carlos Moralesis held to the ground only by Fred Mills' keyboards. In essence, the album is missing nothing: it's perfect, a classic of the genre in that it pushed every popular genre with young people toward a blurred center that got inside the backbone while smacking you in the face. Heard through headphones, its spaced out psychedelic effects, combined with the nastiest funk rock on the block, is simply shocking. The fact that the album didn't perform the way it should have among the populace wasn't the fault of Davis and her band, who went out and toured their collective butts off, or Island who poured tens of thousands of dollars into radio and press promotion, or the press itself (reviews were almost universally positive). The record seemed to rock way too hard for Black radio, and was far too funky for White rock radio. In the 21st century, however, it sounds right on time. Light in the Attic Records has remastered the original tapes painstakingly for the first North American release of this set on CD. As is their trademark, they've done a stellar job both aurally and visually, as the digipack is spectacular. The set also features a definitive historical essay by John Ballon.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
YESSSSSSS
― honest st john (wins), Saturday, 23 March 2013 20:50 (thirteen years ago)
142. YES Close To The Edge (1664 Points, 11 Votes)RYM: #3 for 1972 , #79 overall | Acclaimed: #614http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/862/MI0001862412.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/6344rkGqCBDenGoS7eJlBNspotify:album:6344rkGqCBDenGoS7eJlBN
What a waste. They come up with a refrain that sums up everything they do--"I get up I get down"--and apply it only to their ostensible theme, which is the "seasons of man" or something like that. They segue effortlessly from Bach to harpsichord to bluesy rock and roll and don't mean to be funny. Conclusion: At the level of attention they deserve they're a one-idea group. Especially with Jon and Rick up front. C+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Dave ThompsonWith 1971's Fragile having left Yes poised quivering on the brink of what friend and foe acknowledged was the peak of the band's achievement, Close to the Edge was never going to be an easy album to make. Drummer Bill Bruford was already shifting restlessly against Jon Anderson's increasingly mystic/mystifying lyricism, while contemporary reports of the recording sessions depicted bandmate Rick Wakeman, too, as little more than an observer to the vast tapestry that Anderson, Steve Howe, and Chris Squire were creating. For it was vast. Close to the Edge comprised just three tracks, the epic "And You and I" and "Siberian Khatru," plus a side-long title track that represented the musical, lyrical, and sonic culmination of all that Yes had worked toward over the past five years. Close to the Edge would make the Top Five on both sides of the Atlantic, dispatch Yes on the longest tour of its career so far and, if hindsight be the guide, launch the band on a downward swing that only disintegration, rebuilding, and a savage change of direction would cure. The latter, however, was still to come. In 1972, Close to the Edge was a flawless masterpiece.
With 1971's Fragile having left Yes poised quivering on the brink of what friend and foe acknowledged was the peak of the band's achievement, Close to the Edge was never going to be an easy album to make. Drummer Bill Bruford was already shifting restlessly against Jon Anderson's increasingly mystic/mystifying lyricism, while contemporary reports of the recording sessions depicted bandmate Rick Wakeman, too, as little more than an observer to the vast tapestry that Anderson, Steve Howe, and Chris Squire were creating. For it was vast. Close to the Edge comprised just three tracks, the epic "And You and I" and "Siberian Khatru," plus a side-long title track that represented the musical, lyrical, and sonic culmination of all that Yes had worked toward over the past five years. Close to the Edge would make the Top Five on both sides of the Atlantic, dispatch Yes on the longest tour of its career so far and, if hindsight be the guide, launch the band on a downward swing that only disintegration, rebuilding, and a savage change of direction would cure. The latter, however, was still to come. In 1972, Close to the Edge was a flawless masterpiece.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 21:00 (thirteen years ago)
141. CAN Soon Over Babaluma (1678 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #172 for 1974http://p.playserver1.com/ProductImages/9/6/5/7/2/0/0/3/30027569_700x700min_1.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6ix3EHgMNfeBWQSTOh8Lcxspotify:album:6ix3EHgMNfeBWQSTOh8Lcx
After Damo's departure, the famous four continued to forge on (sometimes with a featured vocalist in concert: Tim Hardin, Thaiaga Raj Raja Ratnam and Magic Michael amongst them) and produced a quite extraordinarily powerful and very percussive album in SOON OVER BABALUMA, with compositions that were to prove to be great concert favourites, a dense and complex music that was earlier hinted at on the great "Halleluwah" and "Mother Sky". -- Cosmic EggLike Tago Mago and Future Days, Babaluma is inexhaustible; a hundred listenings in, and you still find new worlds. "Dizzy Dizzy" and "Come Sta, La Luna" are Can at their most telepathic and tactile. The Mandelbrot whorls and 7th dimensional involutions of "Chain Reaction/Quantum Physics" are the deepest psychedelic grooves I know outside early 70s Miles. Humour, poignancy, awe, groove, Dada, intimacy, immensity - sometimes I wonder why I bother listening to anything else. Anticipates (or pre-empts): the Fourth World pan-Globalism of Talking Heads' Remain In Light, Byrne/Eno's My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts, Jon Hassell, the avant-funk of PiL and The Pop Group, The Raincoats, 23 Skidoo, ARKane's oceanic rock, even some rap and rave. -- Simon Reynolds, THE WIRE's THE HUNDRED BEST RECORDS OF ALL TIME
Like Tago Mago and Future Days, Babaluma is inexhaustible; a hundred listenings in, and you still find new worlds. "Dizzy Dizzy" and "Come Sta, La Luna" are Can at their most telepathic and tactile. The Mandelbrot whorls and 7th dimensional involutions of "Chain Reaction/Quantum Physics" are the deepest psychedelic grooves I know outside early 70s Miles. Humour, poignancy, awe, groove, Dada, intimacy, immensity - sometimes I wonder why I bother listening to anything else. Anticipates (or pre-empts): the Fourth World pan-Globalism of Talking Heads' Remain In Light, Byrne/Eno's My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts, Jon Hassell, the avant-funk of PiL and The Pop Group, The Raincoats, 23 Skidoo, ARKane's oceanic rock, even some rap and rave. -- Simon Reynolds, THE WIRE's THE HUNDRED BEST RECORDS OF ALL TIME
review[-] by Ned RaggettWith Suzuki departed, vocal responsibilities were now split between Karoli and Schmidt. Wisely, neither try to clone Mooney or Suzuki, instead aiming for their own low-key way around things. The guitarist half speaks/half whispers his lines on the opening groover, "Dizzy Dizzy," while on "Come Sta, La Luna" Schmidt uses a higher pitch that is mostly buried in the background. Czukay sounds like he's throwing in some odd movie samples on that particular track, though perhaps it's just heavy flanging on Schmidt's vocals. Karoli's guitar achieves near-flamenco levels on the song, an attractive development that matches up nicely with the slightly lighter and jazzier rhythms the band comes up with on tracks like "Splash." Also, his violin work -- uncredited on earlier releases -- is a bit more prominent here. Musically, if things are a touch less intense on Babaluma, the sense of a band perfectly living in each other's musical pocket and able to react on a dime hasn't changed at all. "Chain Reaction," the longest track on the album, shows that the combination of lengthy jam and slight relaxation actually can go together rather well. After an initial four minutes of quicker pulsing and rhythm (which sounds partly machine provided), things downshift into a slower vocal section before firing up again; Karoli's blistering guitar work at this point is striking to behold. "Chain Reaction" bleeds into Babaluma's final song, "Quantum Physics," a more ominous piece with Czukay's bass closer to the fore, shaded by Schmidt's work and sometimes accompanied by Liebezeit. It makes for a nicely mysterious conclusion to the album.
With Suzuki departed, vocal responsibilities were now split between Karoli and Schmidt. Wisely, neither try to clone Mooney or Suzuki, instead aiming for their own low-key way around things. The guitarist half speaks/half whispers his lines on the opening groover, "Dizzy Dizzy," while on "Come Sta, La Luna" Schmidt uses a higher pitch that is mostly buried in the background. Czukay sounds like he's throwing in some odd movie samples on that particular track, though perhaps it's just heavy flanging on Schmidt's vocals. Karoli's guitar achieves near-flamenco levels on the song, an attractive development that matches up nicely with the slightly lighter and jazzier rhythms the band comes up with on tracks like "Splash." Also, his violin work -- uncredited on earlier releases -- is a bit more prominent here. Musically, if things are a touch less intense on Babaluma, the sense of a band perfectly living in each other's musical pocket and able to react on a dime hasn't changed at all. "Chain Reaction," the longest track on the album, shows that the combination of lengthy jam and slight relaxation actually can go together rather well. After an initial four minutes of quicker pulsing and rhythm (which sounds partly machine provided), things downshift into a slower vocal section before firing up again; Karoli's blistering guitar work at this point is striking to behold. "Chain Reaction" bleeds into Babaluma's final song, "Quantum Physics," a more ominous piece with Czukay's bass closer to the fore, shaded by Schmidt's work and sometimes accompanied by Liebezeit. It makes for a nicely mysterious conclusion to the album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 21:15 (thirteen years ago)
Actually I'm just going to leave it there for the night. Will post the recap in a few.
140-121 will be posted sunday.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 21:17 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 21:41 (thirteen years ago)
yay, mc5, la dusseldorf, MMM, get up with it, captain beyond!
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 21:51 (thirteen years ago)
I'm really surprised that Faust s/t beat Tapes― wk, Saturday, March 23, 2013 11:41 AM (3 hours ago) Bookmark Flag Post PermalinkWhy so?― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, March 23, 2013 11:41 AM (3 hours ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
― wk, Saturday, March 23, 2013 11:41 AM (3 hours ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, March 23, 2013 11:41 AM (3 hours ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
I didn't think that many people liked the first one, and I thought tapes was kind of the classic one because tons of people in the uk bought it for cheap when it was first released. but my sense of krautrock history comes mostly from krautrocksampler which is hardly a reliable source I suppose. I pretty much like all '70s faust records equally including "71 minutes of"/Faust V, but tapes seems like the most quintessentially faustian to me. I like the fact that it's a big sprawling undivided collage that sometimes breaks into beautiful songs, rather than a more traditionally formatted album. but then I was exposed to it before it even had a tracklisting. are the tracks indexed separately on more recent CDs?
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 21:56 (thirteen years ago)
That was my favorite Can album for a while, probably influenced by Reynolds' blurb from a 1992 issue of THE WIRE.
I don't hear that much of a drop in quality from the first High Tide album.
― Fastnbulbous, Saturday, 23 March 2013 21:57 (thirteen years ago)
Babaluma is fucking brilliant. Can really were fucking magic.
I guess this a good time to sheepishly admit that I find Faust albums frustratingly uneven. It's funny how people like cope have this post-punk narcissism of small differences aversion to UK prog for reasons of "wackiness" when there was no shortage of twee titting about in krautrock.
― honest st john (wins), Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:14 (thirteen years ago)
more ramblings on faust tapes...
I grew up listening to vinyl but by the time I bought faust tapes on CD I was pretty deeply in love with the skip button. I don't think I would have sat through power tool noises and weird snippets of ideas if I could have skipped to the great songs. But the experience of listening to the whole thing as one long unbroken track without even any song titles was a unique one to me at the time. I was already a fan of records like Uncle Meat and more noisy stuff like throbbing gristle, but faust tapes was still unique and oddly frustrating. You know that if you sit through it you'll be rewarded with stuff like Dr. Schwitters but good luck figuring out exactly where that part was and skipping directly to it. But even if you just cut it down to Flashback Caruso, J'ai Mal Aux Dents, Stretch Out Time, and Chère Chambre, it would be a collection of some of the band's best music imo.
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:15 (thirteen years ago)
It's funny how people like cope have this post-punk narcissism of small differences aversion to UK prog for reasons of "wackiness" when there was no shortage of twee titting about in krautrock.
Faust can definitely get wacky and the Zappa influence is pretty apparent at times, but they were also pretty damn punk. I think there's a difference between the kind of polite goofiness of a band like Gentle Giant or even Gong (who I love) and Faust's more sort of unsettling goofiness cut through with searing noise, synth drones, and buzzy guitars. Faust are more similar to bands like Pere Ubu, Suicide or the Residents who all had a silly side to them as well.
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:19 (thirteen years ago)
didn't vote for Babaluma, but it is a good album. I also rep for Landed, can't remember if that got nommed?
― Neil S, Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:21 (thirteen years ago)
Probably because a lot of UK prog and Zappa sold shitloads and weren't cool xp
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:26 (thirteen years ago)
I also think that when it comes to silly voices and over the top dramatics, there's a line between it coming across as goofy or tongue-in-cheek and seeming more creepy and bizarre. Zappa being on one side of that line and Suicide on the other, with Faust sitting somewhere right on the line. Perhaps the stereotype that germans lack a sense of humor helped contribute to people like Cope hearing them more on that genuinely strange and unsettling side of the line. Their artwork lends a more serious vibe as well.
― wk, Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:35 (thirteen years ago)
In hindsight I kinda wished I voted for babaluma higher than ege - god knows I play it more often.
― BlackIronPrison, Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:52 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah don't get me wrong, I get that there's this correlation/fine line between whimsical & unheimlich. I like all those wacky brit bands! And Faust, and doubly so ADII, but they do have moments for me where the silliness is simply eyerolly.
― honest st john (wins), Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:53 (thirteen years ago)
Captain Beyond s/t is fucking incredible, amazing rock music, has my 100% recommendation - so fresh, so eloquently-composed
― delete (imago), Saturday, 23 March 2013 22:55 (thirteen years ago)
― Moodles, Saturday, March 23, 2013 1:14 PM (6 hours ago)
actually there should be one playlist that both a US and UK person can edit/add to. that way it's all in one place and it'll just skip the ones unavailable to whoever's listening based on their location.
― unprepared guitar (Edward III), Saturday, 23 March 2013 23:45 (thirteen years ago)
Lots of things Spotify could do better.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 00:00 (thirteen years ago)
What is the best time to start tomorrow for everyone? about 4-5 pm UK time again? It's only going to be 140-121.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 00:25 (thirteen years ago)
Hm, I used to love Metal Machine Music. Interesting to see several people praising it. I should listen to it again some time.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 24 March 2013 03:55 (thirteen years ago)
I finished up assembling all the stats and quotes for tomorrow. Stay tuned to see a legendary rock behemoth critically bludgeoned by a media behemoth, who goes on to publish a quite different assessment 30 years later.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 06:39 (thirteen years ago)
hmm...rolling stone (more specifically lester bangs) on black sabbath? rolling stone totally backtracks all the time (eg the eagles) whereas i'm pretty sure xgau would probably still say he doesn't like sabbath. it's not zoso cuz rolling stone (more specifically lenny kaye) gave it a rave review at the time and xgau always liked zeppelin. tosches' review of paranoid for rolling stone is hilarious, kinda a rave, very likely a complete lark (i think by that point him and meltzer were pretty committed to 'just make shit up'), and in some ways manages to describe the album perfectly w/o in any way indicating that tosches actually listened to the thing.
― balls, Sunday, 24 March 2013 09:46 (thirteen years ago)
Not looked at todays results so I'm not quite sure who it is but did RS really do a lot of backtracking? What are the best examples of it?
Did they slag off any stones albums or solo albums?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 12:01 (thirteen years ago)
For those who say thread loads too slowly have you tried turning off pictures under preferences?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 12:51 (thirteen years ago)
untick images here http://www.ilxor.com/ILX/PrePreferencesControllerServlet
Have fallen a bit behind with this, but got Armand Schaubroek - Ratfucker on just now and it's pretty nuts.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Sunday, 24 March 2013 13:03 (thirteen years ago)
Betty Davis has been on my list to check out for ages so will give her a try next.
― Why Do Radios Suddenly Appear? (Mr Andy M), Sunday, 24 March 2013 13:04 (thirteen years ago)
The backtracking usually happened years/decades later (cf. lukewarm/poor contemporary reviews of some Zep records/"THE HEAVIEST BAND EVER" cover story in the 00s), and usually on the occasion of a reissue/boxed set. I don't recall any instances of the same critic backtracking, though.
Emotional Rescue got a bad review by one Ariel Swartley, but that's the only one I could find. Landau loved It's Only Rock 'n' Roll, Bud Scoppa called Goat's Head Soup one of the best records of 1973, Tattoo You got five stars, Undercover got four-and-a-half, and they loved all the solo records.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 24 March 2013 13:06 (thirteen years ago)
Bud Scoppa otm!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 13:14 (thirteen years ago)
will start todays countdown in an hour or so. I'll give the Americans a chance to wake up.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 14:01 (thirteen years ago)
i'm awake :)
― Mordy, Sunday, 24 March 2013 14:10 (thirteen years ago)
the viceroy isnt though!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 14:11 (thirteen years ago)
Still hoping for decent placements today, think I had bad dreams about that High Tide placement over Captain Beyond & SL Baltimore & Pentagram & Atomic Rooster last night. injustice!
― BlackIronPrison, Sunday, 24 March 2013 14:30 (thirteen years ago)
a short list of stuff i've fallen in love w/ from this poll that i never heard beforehand:
Curtis Mayfield - RootsTony Allen - No Accommodation for LagosSlave - SlaveBootsy Collins - Ahh.. The Name is Bootsy, Baby!Cameo - Cardiac ArrestCymande - CymandeErkin Koray - Elektronik TurkulerEddie Hazel - Game, Dames and Guitar ThangsParliament - OsmiumMutiny - Mutiny on the MamashipWar - The World is a GhettoChairmen of the Board - Skin I'm InParliament - Clones of Dr. FunkensteinFunkadelic - Cosmic Slop
― Mordy, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
Does Osmium exist in the US under a different name?
― Moodles, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:24 (thirteen years ago)
There's also Rhenium which is Osmium plus different tracks
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:28 (thirteen years ago)
140. AGITATION FREE 2nd (1684 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: 124 for 1973 , #3738 overallhttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vOvSxfXDe80/TZJG_CrOuHI/AAAAAAAAAmU/0pEkgDI_AKI/s1600/2nd.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/4HLjAtLiDvnYDFIh3YfW5Vspotify:album:4HLjAtLiDvnYDFIh3YfW5V
Much more a proper studio album, and also more typical of the patent Agitation Free sound, 2ND took them more towards the realms of progressive rock, whilst also stretching out the cosmic elements even more. It contains what was their only "song" documented on LP, the powerful Mellotron driven "Haunted Island" based on Edgar Allan Poe's "Dreamtime". It's unfortunate really that Agitation Free only really gained success in France, being barely noticed in their homeland, and totally ignored by the British media. -- Cosmic Egg
review[-] by François CoutureAgitation Free's 2nd stands as one of Germany's finest instrumental rock albums of the 1970s and a classic for fans of progressive rock and Krautrock. Despite the fact that the group had problems keeping its cohesion at the time, these troubles never affect the music. 2nd presented a daring blend of Krautrock-type extended jams, laid-back attitude, and experimentation. The music remains very psychedelic in nature, more early Can than Faust. The presence of acoustic guitars and bouzouki emphasizes the easygoing nature of the music, along with Stefan Diez's elegant guitar soloing, while occasional free-form passages keep things on the edge. The opener, "First Communication," is pure Krautrock and the hardest-driving tune. It belongs on every anthology of German rock. Michael Hoenig's synthesizer experiment "Dialogue and Random" provides an interlude before the two-part "Laila" kicks in. The latter juxtaposes prog rock and fusion jazz sections with beautiful audacity. Side B of the original LP is a lot quieter. Birds chirp at the beginning of "In the Silence of the Morning Sunrise" and the pastoral mood carries over to the nine-minute "A Quiet Walk." "Haunted Island" ends with a midtempo rock number featuring a recitation of Edgar Allan Poe's "Dreamland." Filled with Mellotron and guitar jamming, it has often been hailed as a highlight by prog rock fans who had a hard time digesting the less immediate material, but it's actually weaker than what came before it -- without lessening the appeal of this album.
Agitation Free's 2nd stands as one of Germany's finest instrumental rock albums of the 1970s and a classic for fans of progressive rock and Krautrock. Despite the fact that the group had problems keeping its cohesion at the time, these troubles never affect the music. 2nd presented a daring blend of Krautrock-type extended jams, laid-back attitude, and experimentation. The music remains very psychedelic in nature, more early Can than Faust. The presence of acoustic guitars and bouzouki emphasizes the easygoing nature of the music, along with Stefan Diez's elegant guitar soloing, while occasional free-form passages keep things on the edge. The opener, "First Communication," is pure Krautrock and the hardest-driving tune. It belongs on every anthology of German rock. Michael Hoenig's synthesizer experiment "Dialogue and Random" provides an interlude before the two-part "Laila" kicks in. The latter juxtaposes prog rock and fusion jazz sections with beautiful audacity. Side B of the original LP is a lot quieter. Birds chirp at the beginning of "In the Silence of the Morning Sunrise" and the pastoral mood carries over to the nine-minute "A Quiet Walk." "Haunted Island" ends with a midtempo rock number featuring a recitation of Edgar Allan Poe's "Dreamland." Filled with Mellotron and guitar jamming, it has often been hailed as a highlight by prog rock fans who had a hard time digesting the less immediate material, but it's actually weaker than what came before it -- without lessening the appeal of this album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:32 (thirteen years ago)
Cool cover, and so yonic!
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:33 (thirteen years ago)
― Moodles, Sunday, March 24, 2013 12:24 PM (8 minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
Yep, it was reissued in the early 90s (?) as First Thangs with some extra tracks. Pretty easy/cheap to find, actually.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:34 (thirteen years ago)
So that album is better than "Soon Over Babaluma"? Bollocks. (xxp)
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:35 (thirteen years ago)
Vote-splitting, innit? Though I must say I'm surprised Agitation Free got up so high.
― emil.y, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:39 (thirteen years ago)
It's their worst album!
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:40 (thirteen years ago)
In the middle of my 3rd or 4th listen to 2nd and to me it feels like a slightly more organic Harmonia. It's very mellow and pretty, not what I'd vote for in this poll, but it's definitely a great new find. Because of the interesting mix of criteria for this poll, I wouldn't necessarily think the exact order, especially within a few places, makes much difference. However I certainly wouldn't discourage the discussion of what makes one better than others.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:44 (thirteen years ago)
One album is genius the other is dull sub-Pink Floyd jams with a boring rhythm section
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:46 (thirteen years ago)
And that's discussion for you!
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:48 (thirteen years ago)
I think my ordering of Can albums was a bit weird when I was voting. Pretty sure if there was a Can poll I'd do things differently. They've got so many great records, though.
― emil.y, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:49 (thirteen years ago)
139. MAHAVISHNU ORCHESTRA Birds Of Fire (1702 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #35 for 1973 , #1014 overall | Acclaimed: #969http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6wU7KC0GAKo/TdC4KDb7bPI/AAAAAAAAAso/H8guP9OtiRE/s1600/Mahavishnu+Orchestra+-+Birds+Of+Fire+-+Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6SLknspfGod3v3TyWawl8Jspotify:album:6SLknspfGod3v3TyWawl8J
In which the inner mounting flame is made flesh? Something like that. The celestial raveups are more self-possessed, the lyrical interludes less swoony, and the modal themes are as grand as ever. A- -- R. ChristgauAnother manifestation of Miles? foray into rock; John ?Mahavishnu? McLaughlin met Billy Cobham on the sessions for Bitches Brew (1970). Seemingly carrying the torch lit by Jimi Hendrix forward, the first two Mahavishnu Orchestra LPs, The Inner Mounting Flame (1971) and Birds of Fire still sound shocking to this day. The brazenly amplified, impossibly ornate instrumentation is yet more inone?s face than even the most extreme Prog LP, but swings furiously with wild tonality. Even though they were commercially successful, holding position in the new terrain they had created proved impossible, and the band melted down acrimoniously. Fusion subsequently became either funkified, as on Herbie Hancock?s Sly Stone influenced Head Hunters (1973), or quickly unhitched from Rock and identifiable as a genre of its own. With Weather Report, Chick Corea, the jazz pop of Chuck Mangione, George Benson and the Crusaders, Fusion became vastly, almost unimaginably successful but also neutered. In this sense, a record like the awesome Birds of Fire is a ?lost? album in the truest sense in that it represents an unexplored possibility. -- Woebot
Another manifestation of Miles? foray into rock; John ?Mahavishnu? McLaughlin met Billy Cobham on the sessions for Bitches Brew (1970). Seemingly carrying the torch lit by Jimi Hendrix forward, the first two Mahavishnu Orchestra LPs, The Inner Mounting Flame (1971) and Birds of Fire still sound shocking to this day. The brazenly amplified, impossibly ornate instrumentation is yet more inone?s face than even the most extreme Prog LP, but swings furiously with wild tonality. Even though they were commercially successful, holding position in the new terrain they had created proved impossible, and the band melted down acrimoniously. Fusion subsequently became either funkified, as on Herbie Hancock?s Sly Stone influenced Head Hunters (1973), or quickly unhitched from Rock and identifiable as a genre of its own. With Weather Report, Chick Corea, the jazz pop of Chuck Mangione, George Benson and the Crusaders, Fusion became vastly, almost unimaginably successful but also neutered. In this sense, a record like the awesome Birds of Fire is a ?lost? album in the truest sense in that it represents an unexplored possibility. -- Woebot
review[-] by Richard S. GinellEmboldened by the popularity of Inner Mounting Flame among rock audiences, the first Mahavishnu Orchestra set out to further define and refine its blistering jazz-rock direction in its second -- and, no thanks to internal feuding, last -- studio album. Although it has much of the screaming rock energy and sometimes exaggerated competitive frenzy of its predecessor, Birds of Fire is audibly more varied in texture, even more tightly organized, and thankfully more musical in content. A remarkable example of precisely choreographed, high-speed solo trading -- with John McLaughlin, Jerry Goodman, and Jan Hammer all of one mind, supported by Billy Cobham's machine-gun drumming and Rick Laird's dancing bass -- can be heard on the aptly named "One Word," and the title track is a defining moment of the group's nearly atonal fury. The band also takes time out for a brief bit of spaced-out electronic burbling and static called "Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love." Yet the most enticing pieces of music on the record are the gorgeous, almost pastoral opening and closing sections to "Open Country Joy," a relaxed, jocular bit of communal jamming that they ought to have pursued further. This album actually became a major crossover hit, rising to number 15 on the pop album charts, and it remains the key item in the first Mahavishnu Orchestra's slim discography.
Emboldened by the popularity of Inner Mounting Flame among rock audiences, the first Mahavishnu Orchestra set out to further define and refine its blistering jazz-rock direction in its second -- and, no thanks to internal feuding, last -- studio album. Although it has much of the screaming rock energy and sometimes exaggerated competitive frenzy of its predecessor, Birds of Fire is audibly more varied in texture, even more tightly organized, and thankfully more musical in content. A remarkable example of precisely choreographed, high-speed solo trading -- with John McLaughlin, Jerry Goodman, and Jan Hammer all of one mind, supported by Billy Cobham's machine-gun drumming and Rick Laird's dancing bass -- can be heard on the aptly named "One Word," and the title track is a defining moment of the group's nearly atonal fury. The band also takes time out for a brief bit of spaced-out electronic burbling and static called "Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love." Yet the most enticing pieces of music on the record are the gorgeous, almost pastoral opening and closing sections to "Open Country Joy," a relaxed, jocular bit of communal jamming that they ought to have pursued further. This album actually became a major crossover hit, rising to number 15 on the pop album charts, and it remains the key item in the first Mahavishnu Orchestra's slim discography.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:50 (thirteen years ago)
The irony being if Tom D actually had voted Can would have placed higher..
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:55 (thirteen years ago)
Ha ha! You say boring, I say mesmerizing ;)
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:56 (thirteen years ago)
(xp) Well "Soon Over Babaluma" would, "Future Days" wouldn't
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 24 March 2013 16:57 (thirteen years ago)
138. LED ZEPPELIN Houses of the Holy (1707 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #6 for 1973 , #140 overall | Acclaimed: #520 | RS: #149 | Pitchfork: #75http://outoftheblog.com/think/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/1973-Led-Zeppelin-Houses-Of-The-Holy-1425x1425.jpg
I could do without "No Quarter," a death march for a select troop of messenger-warriors, perhaps the band's road crew, that you can tell is serious because of the snow (when they're working up to big statements it only rains) and scary sound effects. But side two begins with two amazing, well, dance tracks--the transmogrified shuffle is actually called "Dancing Days," while "D'Yer Mak'er" is a reggae, or "reggae"--that go nicely with the James Brown tribute/parody/ripoff at the close of side one. Which is solid led, lurching in sprung rhythm through four tracks that might have been on II, III, or IV, or might not have been, as the case may be. A- -- R. ChristgauToday's 'safe' Zeppelin sans blues: A limp blimpFor me, Led Zeppelin began as the epitome of everything good about rock: solid guitar work, forceful vocals and rhythmic backing, devotion to primal blues forms, and most of all, thunderous excitement on stage and vinyl. But as superstardom came to them, so too came the gradual evaporation of those qualities from their sound. In the same way that the Rolling Stones evolved into a senior, "safe" bizarro-perversion band, Led Zeppelin has become a senior, "safe" heavy-metal band. But by its very nature safety cannot coexist with heavy-metal fire and macho intensity (or bizarro-perversion, for that matter), which is probably why Houses of the Holy is one of the dullest and most confusing albums I've heard this year.Even after a hundred listenings I'm still not convinced this album is by the same group that brought us the likes of "Communication Breakdown," "Heartbreaker" and "Black Dog." The powerfully simplistic rhythms and surging adrenaline drive that made those songs so compelling is nowhere to be found. Only once is it attempted, on "The Ocean," but there it's so diluted with pointless humor that the necessary musical tension never develops. Jimmy Page's guitar spits jagged fireballs with John Paul Jones and John Bonham riffing along behind him, but the effect is destroyed by ridiculous backup cooings and an overbearing "killer" coda that's so blatant it can only be taken as a mock of straight rock & roll. "Rock 'n' Roll" to the contrary, Led Zeppelin's forte has always been rockin' the blues; if they took themselves seriously they'd realize that they are foolish to step outside that genre.The only other tune approaching the Zep's past triumphs is "The Song Remains the Same," a slice of Whodom that works solely as a vehicle for Page's guitar antics. And that's really what Led Zeppelin's been about from the start. Interesting things abound in what amounts to a 5:24 guitar solo — groin-rattling riffing, a clever fuzz run, and some finger-picked figures executed with a finesse that belies their macho origin. And Page manages to run through this hefty gamut without once being self-indulgent. It's not the music that made Led Zeppelin famous (their style is hardly interchangeable with the Who's), but at least it's got more than an amp or two of the excitement that they're renowned for. And on this album, that alone is a major triumph.Two songs are naked imitations, and they're easily the worst things this band has ever attempted. "The Crunge" reproduces James Brown so faithfully that it's every bit as boring, repetitive and cliched as "Good Foot." Yakety-yak guitar, boom-boom bass, astoundingly idiotic lyrics ("when she walks, she walks, and when she talks, she talks") — it's all there. So is Jones' synthesizer, spinning absolutely superfluous electronic fills."D'yer Mak'er" is even worse, a pathetic stab at reggae that would probably get the Zep laughed off the island if they bothered playing it in Jamaica. Like every other band following rock's latest fad, Led Zeppelin shows little understanding of what reggae is about — "D'yer Mak'er" is obnoxiously heavy-handed and totally devoid of the native form's sensibilities.The truly original songs on Houses of the Holy again underscore Led Zeppelin's songwriting deficiences. Their earliest successes came when they literally stole blues licks note for note, so I guess it should have been expected that there was something drastically wrong with their own material. So it is that "Dancing Days," "The Rain Song" and "No Quarter" fall flat on their respective faces — the first is filler while the latter two are nothing more than drawn-out vehicles for the further display of Jones' unknowledgeable use of mellotron and synthesizer."Over the Hills and Far Away" is cut from the same mold as "Stairway To Heaven," but without that song's torrid guitar solo it languishes in Dullsville — just like the first five minutes of "Stairway." The whole premise of "graduated heaviness" (upon which both songs were built) really goes to show just how puerile and rudimentary this group can get when forced to scrounge for its own material. One would think that the group that stole "Whole Lotta Love," et al., might acquire an idea or two along the way, but evidently they weren't looking. Let's hear it for androids!When you really get down to it Led Zeppelin hasn't come up with a consistent crop of heavymetal spuds since their second album. Their last three efforts have been so uneven that had they started with Led Zeppelin III I'm convinced they wouldn't be here today. While they've been busy denying their bluesrock roots, Robert Plant's vocals have lost their power and the band's instrumental work has lost its traces of spontaneity. In simple fact of matter, Houses of the Holy was 17 months in preparation, yet Led Zeppelin I (the product of a mere 15 hours) cuts it to shreds.So all in all it's been two separate groups we've called Led Zeppelin, and I've tired of waiting for the only legitimate one to return. An occasional zinger like "When the Levee Breaks" isn't enough, especially when there are so many other groups today that don't bullshit around with inferior tripe like "Stairway To Heaven." Beck, Bogert & Appice, Black Sabbath, the Groundhogs, Robin Trower — the list is long and they all fare musically better than the Zep because they stick to what they do best. Page and friends should similarly realize their limitations and get back to playing the blues-rock that moves mountains. Until they do Led Zeppelin will remain Limp Blimp. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSWhen George Harrison met John Bonham, the Beatle told the Led Zeppelin drummer, "The problem with your band is you don't do any ballads." Singer Robert Plant and guitarist Jimmy Page could have taken umbrage -- they had already written the gorgeous "Going to California" two years earlier, for God's sake. Instead, they rose to the challenge. "The Rain Song" is seven minutes of exquisite heartache, complete with Mellotron strings from John Paul Jones. And in tribute to Harrison, the opening two notes are recognizably borrowed from his ballad "Something."Led Zeppelin took the title of House of the Holy from their term for oversize arenas and stadia where they played live. After five years together, they were ambitious and confident enough to believe they could meet any musical challenge; this album even includes a swinging take on reggae, "D'yer Mak'er." "Over the Hills and Far Away" builds in intensity just as relentlessly as "Stairway to Heaven." And "The Ocean," the love song for Plant's baby daughter that closes the album, is a mighty stomp that could rattle the teeth of fans in the last row of Madison Square Garden. The epic scale suited Zeppelin: They had the largest crowds, the loudest rock songs, the most groupies. Eventually excess would turn into bombast, but on Houses, it still provided inspiration. * * * * * -- Gavin Edwards, RS, 2003 (placing #123 on their best albums of all time list)
Today's 'safe' Zeppelin sans blues: A limp blimpFor me, Led Zeppelin began as the epitome of everything good about rock: solid guitar work, forceful vocals and rhythmic backing, devotion to primal blues forms, and most of all, thunderous excitement on stage and vinyl. But as superstardom came to them, so too came the gradual evaporation of those qualities from their sound. In the same way that the Rolling Stones evolved into a senior, "safe" bizarro-perversion band, Led Zeppelin has become a senior, "safe" heavy-metal band. But by its very nature safety cannot coexist with heavy-metal fire and macho intensity (or bizarro-perversion, for that matter), which is probably why Houses of the Holy is one of the dullest and most confusing albums I've heard this year.
Even after a hundred listenings I'm still not convinced this album is by the same group that brought us the likes of "Communication Breakdown," "Heartbreaker" and "Black Dog." The powerfully simplistic rhythms and surging adrenaline drive that made those songs so compelling is nowhere to be found. Only once is it attempted, on "The Ocean," but there it's so diluted with pointless humor that the necessary musical tension never develops. Jimmy Page's guitar spits jagged fireballs with John Paul Jones and John Bonham riffing along behind him, but the effect is destroyed by ridiculous backup cooings and an overbearing "killer" coda that's so blatant it can only be taken as a mock of straight rock & roll. "Rock 'n' Roll" to the contrary, Led Zeppelin's forte has always been rockin' the blues; if they took themselves seriously they'd realize that they are foolish to step outside that genre.The only other tune approaching the Zep's past triumphs is "The Song Remains the Same," a slice of Whodom that works solely as a vehicle for Page's guitar antics. And that's really what Led Zeppelin's been about from the start. Interesting things abound in what amounts to a 5:24 guitar solo — groin-rattling riffing, a clever fuzz run, and some finger-picked figures executed with a finesse that belies their macho origin. And Page manages to run through this hefty gamut without once being self-indulgent. It's not the music that made Led Zeppelin famous (their style is hardly interchangeable with the Who's), but at least it's got more than an amp or two of the excitement that they're renowned for. And on this album, that alone is a major triumph.Two songs are naked imitations, and they're easily the worst things this band has ever attempted. "The Crunge" reproduces James Brown so faithfully that it's every bit as boring, repetitive and cliched as "Good Foot." Yakety-yak guitar, boom-boom bass, astoundingly idiotic lyrics ("when she walks, she walks, and when she talks, she talks") — it's all there. So is Jones' synthesizer, spinning absolutely superfluous electronic fills."D'yer Mak'er" is even worse, a pathetic stab at reggae that would probably get the Zep laughed off the island if they bothered playing it in Jamaica. Like every other band following rock's latest fad, Led Zeppelin shows little understanding of what reggae is about — "D'yer Mak'er" is obnoxiously heavy-handed and totally devoid of the native form's sensibilities.The truly original songs on Houses of the Holy again underscore Led Zeppelin's songwriting deficiences. Their earliest successes came when they literally stole blues licks note for note, so I guess it should have been expected that there was something drastically wrong with their own material. So it is that "Dancing Days," "The Rain Song" and "No Quarter" fall flat on their respective faces — the first is filler while the latter two are nothing more than drawn-out vehicles for the further display of Jones' unknowledgeable use of mellotron and synthesizer."Over the Hills and Far Away" is cut from the same mold as "Stairway To Heaven," but without that song's torrid guitar solo it languishes in Dullsville — just like the first five minutes of "Stairway." The whole premise of "graduated heaviness" (upon which both songs were built) really goes to show just how puerile and rudimentary this group can get when forced to scrounge for its own material. One would think that the group that stole "Whole Lotta Love," et al., might acquire an idea or two along the way, but evidently they weren't looking. Let's hear it for androids!When you really get down to it Led Zeppelin hasn't come up with a consistent crop of heavymetal spuds since their second album. Their last three efforts have been so uneven that had they started with Led Zeppelin III I'm convinced they wouldn't be here today. While they've been busy denying their bluesrock roots, Robert Plant's vocals have lost their power and the band's instrumental work has lost its traces of spontaneity. In simple fact of matter, Houses of the Holy was 17 months in preparation, yet Led Zeppelin I (the product of a mere 15 hours) cuts it to shreds.So all in all it's been two separate groups we've called Led Zeppelin, and I've tired of waiting for the only legitimate one to return. An occasional zinger like "When the Levee Breaks" isn't enough, especially when there are so many other groups today that don't bullshit around with inferior tripe like "Stairway To Heaven." Beck, Bogert & Appice, Black Sabbath, the Groundhogs, Robin Trower — the list is long and they all fare musically better than the Zep because they stick to what they do best. Page and friends should similarly realize their limitations and get back to playing the blues-rock that moves mountains. Until they do Led Zeppelin will remain Limp Blimp. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSWhen George Harrison met John Bonham, the Beatle told the Led Zeppelin drummer, "The problem with your band is you don't do any ballads." Singer Robert Plant and guitarist Jimmy Page could have taken umbrage -- they had already written the gorgeous "Going to California" two years earlier, for God's sake. Instead, they rose to the challenge. "The Rain Song" is seven minutes of exquisite heartache, complete with Mellotron strings from John Paul Jones. And in tribute to Harrison, the opening two notes are recognizably borrowed from his ballad "Something."Led Zeppelin took the title of House of the Holy from their term for oversize arenas and stadia where they played live. After five years together, they were ambitious and confident enough to believe they could meet any musical challenge; this album even includes a swinging take on reggae, "D'yer Mak'er." "Over the Hills and Far Away" builds in intensity just as relentlessly as "Stairway to Heaven." And "The Ocean," the love song for Plant's baby daughter that closes the album, is a mighty stomp that could rattle the teeth of fans in the last row of Madison Square Garden. The epic scale suited Zeppelin: They had the largest crowds, the loudest rock songs, the most groupies. Eventually excess would turn into bombast, but on Houses, it still provided inspiration. * * * * * -- Gavin Edwards, RS, 2003 (placing #123 on their best albums of all time list)
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineHouses of the Holy follows the same basic pattern as Led Zeppelin IV, but the approach is looser and more relaxed. Jimmy Page's riffs rely on ringing, folky hooks as much as they do on thundering blues-rock, giving the album a lighter, more open atmosphere. While the pseudo-reggae of "D'Yer Mak'er" and the affectionate James Brown send-up "The Crunge" suggest that the band was searching for material, they actually contribute to the musical diversity of the album. "The Rain Song" is one of Zep's finest moments, featuring a soaring string arrangement and a gentle, aching melody. "The Ocean" is just as good, starting with a heavy, funky guitar groove before slamming into an a cappella section and ending with a swinging, doo wop-flavored rave-up. With the exception of the rampaging opening number, "The Song Remains the Same," the rest of Houses of the Holy is fairly straightforward, ranging from the foreboding "No Quarter" and the strutting hard rock of "Dancing Days" to the epic folk/metal fusion "Over the Hills and Far Away." Throughout the record, the band's playing is excellent, making the eclecticism of Page and Robert Plant's songwriting sound coherent and natural.
Houses of the Holy follows the same basic pattern as Led Zeppelin IV, but the approach is looser and more relaxed. Jimmy Page's riffs rely on ringing, folky hooks as much as they do on thundering blues-rock, giving the album a lighter, more open atmosphere. While the pseudo-reggae of "D'Yer Mak'er" and the affectionate James Brown send-up "The Crunge" suggest that the band was searching for material, they actually contribute to the musical diversity of the album. "The Rain Song" is one of Zep's finest moments, featuring a soaring string arrangement and a gentle, aching melody. "The Ocean" is just as good, starting with a heavy, funky guitar groove before slamming into an a cappella section and ending with a swinging, doo wop-flavored rave-up. With the exception of the rampaging opening number, "The Song Remains the Same," the rest of Houses of the Holy is fairly straightforward, ranging from the foreboding "No Quarter" and the strutting hard rock of "Dancing Days" to the epic folk/metal fusion "Over the Hills and Far Away." Throughout the record, the band's playing is excellent, making the eclecticism of Page and Robert Plant's songwriting sound coherent and natural.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:02 (thirteen years ago)
138. LED ZEPPELIN Houses of the Holy (1707 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #6 for 1973 , #140 overall | Acclaimed: #520 | RS: #149 | Pitchfork: #75
I could do without "No Quarter," a death march for a select troop of messenger-warriors, perhaps the band's road crew, that you can tell is serious because of the snow (when they're working up to big statements it only rains) and scary sound effects. But side two begins with two amazing, well, dance tracks--the transmogrified shuffle is actually called "Dancing Days," while "D'Yer Mak'er" is a reggae, or "reggae"--that go nicely with the James Brown tribute/parody/ripoff at the close of side one. Which is solid led, lurching in sprung rhythm through four tracks that might have been on II, III, or IV, or might not have been, as the case may be. A- -- R. ChristgauToday's 'safe' Zeppelin sans blues: A limp blimpFor me, Led Zeppelin began as the epitome of everything good about rock: solid guitar work, forceful vocals and rhythmic backing, devotion to primal blues forms, and most of all, thunderous excitement on stage and vinyl. But as superstardom came to them, so too came the gradual evaporation of those qualities from their sound. In the same way that the Rolling Stones evolved into a senior, "safe" bizarro-perversion band, Led Zeppelin has become a senior, "safe" heavy-metal band. But by its very nature safety cannot coexist with heavy-metal fire and macho intensity (or bizarro-perversion, for that matter), which is probably why Houses of the Holy is one of the dullest and most confusing albums I've heard this year.Even after a hundred listenings I'm still not convinced this album is by the same group that brought us the likes of "Communication Breakdown," "Heartbreaker" and "Black Dog." The powerfully simplistic rhythms and surging adrenaline drive that made those songs so compelling is nowhere to be found. Only once is it attempted, on "The Ocean," but there it's so diluted with pointless humor that the necessary musical tension never develops. Jimmy Page's guitar spits jagged fireballs with John Paul Jones and John Bonham riffing along behind him, but the effect is destroyed by ridiculous backup cooings and an overbearing "killer" coda that's so blatant it can only be taken as a mock of straight rock & roll. "Rock 'n' Roll" to the contrary, Led Zeppelin's forte has always been rockin' the blues; if they took themselves seriously they'd realize that they are foolish to step outside that genre.The only other tune approaching the Zep's past triumphs is "The Song Remains the Same," a slice of Whodom that works solely as a vehicle for Page's guitar antics. And that's really what Led Zeppelin's been about from the start. Interesting things abound in what amounts to a 5:24 guitar solo ? groin-rattling riffing, a clever fuzz run, and some finger-picked figures executed with a finesse that belies their macho origin. And Page manages to run through this hefty gamut without once being self-indulgent. It's not the music that made Led Zeppelin famous (their style is hardly interchangeable with the Who's), but at least it's got more than an amp or two of the excitement that they're renowned for. And on this album, that alone is a major triumph.Two songs are naked imitations, and they're easily the worst things this band has ever attempted. "The Crunge" reproduces James Brown so faithfully that it's every bit as boring, repetitive and cliched as "Good Foot." Yakety-yak guitar, boom-boom bass, astoundingly idiotic lyrics ("when she walks, she walks, and when she talks, she talks") ? it's all there. So is Jones' synthesizer, spinning absolutely superfluous electronic fills."D'yer Mak'er" is even worse, a pathetic stab at reggae that would probably get the Zep laughed off the island if they bothered playing it in Jamaica. Like every other band following rock's latest fad, Led Zeppelin shows little understanding of what reggae is about ? "D'yer Mak'er" is obnoxiously heavy-handed and totally devoid of the native form's sensibilities.The truly original songs on Houses of the Holy again underscore Led Zeppelin's songwriting deficiences. Their earliest successes came when they literally stole blues licks note for note, so I guess it should have been expected that there was something drastically wrong with their own material. So it is that "Dancing Days," "The Rain Song" and "No Quarter" fall flat on their respective faces ? the first is filler while the latter two are nothing more than drawn-out vehicles for the further display of Jones' unknowledgeable use of mellotron and synthesizer."Over the Hills and Far Away" is cut from the same mold as "Stairway To Heaven," but without that song's torrid guitar solo it languishes in Dullsville ? just like the first five minutes of "Stairway." The whole premise of "graduated heaviness" (upon which both songs were built) really goes to show just how puerile and rudimentary this group can get when forced to scrounge for its own material. One would think that the group that stole "Whole Lotta Love," et al., might acquire an idea or two along the way, but evidently they weren't looking. Let's hear it for androids!When you really get down to it Led Zeppelin hasn't come up with a consistent crop of heavymetal spuds since their second album. Their last three efforts have been so uneven that had they started with Led Zeppelin III I'm convinced they wouldn't be here today. While they've been busy denying their bluesrock roots, Robert Plant's vocals have lost their power and the band's instrumental work has lost its traces of spontaneity. In simple fact of matter, Houses of the Holy was 17 months in preparation, yet Led Zeppelin I (the product of a mere 15 hours) cuts it to shreds.So all in all it's been two separate groups we've called Led Zeppelin, and I've tired of waiting for the only legitimate one to return. An occasional zinger like "When the Levee Breaks" isn't enough, especially when there are so many other groups today that don't bullshit around with inferior tripe like "Stairway To Heaven." Beck, Bogert & Appice, Black Sabbath, the Groundhogs, Robin Trower ? the list is long and they all fare musically better than the Zep because they stick to what they do best. Page and friends should similarly realize their limitations and get back to playing the blues-rock that moves mountains. Until they do Led Zeppelin will remain Limp Blimp. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSWhen George Harrison met John Bonham, the Beatle told the Led Zeppelin drummer, "The problem with your band is you don't do any ballads." Singer Robert Plant and guitarist Jimmy Page could have taken umbrage -- they had already written the gorgeous "Going to California" two years earlier, for God's sake. Instead, they rose to the challenge. "The Rain Song" is seven minutes of exquisite heartache, complete with Mellotron strings from John Paul Jones. And in tribute to Harrison, the opening two notes are recognizably borrowed from his ballad "Something."Led Zeppelin took the title of House of the Holy from their term for oversize arenas and stadia where they played live. After five years together, they were ambitious and confident enough to believe they could meet any musical challenge; this album even includes a swinging take on reggae, "D'yer Mak'er." "Over the Hills and Far Away" builds in intensity just as relentlessly as "Stairway to Heaven." And "The Ocean," the love song for Plant's baby daughter that closes the album, is a mighty stomp that could rattle the teeth of fans in the last row of Madison Square Garden. The epic scale suited Zeppelin: They had the largest crowds, the loudest rock songs, the most groupies. Eventually excess would turn into bombast, but on Houses, it still provided inspiration. * * * * * -- Gavin Edwards, RS, 2003 (placing #123 on their best albums of all time list)
Even after a hundred listenings I'm still not convinced this album is by the same group that brought us the likes of "Communication Breakdown," "Heartbreaker" and "Black Dog." The powerfully simplistic rhythms and surging adrenaline drive that made those songs so compelling is nowhere to be found. Only once is it attempted, on "The Ocean," but there it's so diluted with pointless humor that the necessary musical tension never develops. Jimmy Page's guitar spits jagged fireballs with John Paul Jones and John Bonham riffing along behind him, but the effect is destroyed by ridiculous backup cooings and an overbearing "killer" coda that's so blatant it can only be taken as a mock of straight rock & roll. "Rock 'n' Roll" to the contrary, Led Zeppelin's forte has always been rockin' the blues; if they took themselves seriously they'd realize that they are foolish to step outside that genre.
The only other tune approaching the Zep's past triumphs is "The Song Remains the Same," a slice of Whodom that works solely as a vehicle for Page's guitar antics. And that's really what Led Zeppelin's been about from the start. Interesting things abound in what amounts to a 5:24 guitar solo ? groin-rattling riffing, a clever fuzz run, and some finger-picked figures executed with a finesse that belies their macho origin. And Page manages to run through this hefty gamut without once being self-indulgent. It's not the music that made Led Zeppelin famous (their style is hardly interchangeable with the Who's), but at least it's got more than an amp or two of the excitement that they're renowned for. And on this album, that alone is a major triumph.
Two songs are naked imitations, and they're easily the worst things this band has ever attempted. "The Crunge" reproduces James Brown so faithfully that it's every bit as boring, repetitive and cliched as "Good Foot." Yakety-yak guitar, boom-boom bass, astoundingly idiotic lyrics ("when she walks, she walks, and when she talks, she talks") ? it's all there. So is Jones' synthesizer, spinning absolutely superfluous electronic fills.
"D'yer Mak'er" is even worse, a pathetic stab at reggae that would probably get the Zep laughed off the island if they bothered playing it in Jamaica. Like every other band following rock's latest fad, Led Zeppelin shows little understanding of what reggae is about ? "D'yer Mak'er" is obnoxiously heavy-handed and totally devoid of the native form's sensibilities.
The truly original songs on Houses of the Holy again underscore Led Zeppelin's songwriting deficiences. Their earliest successes came when they literally stole blues licks note for note, so I guess it should have been expected that there was something drastically wrong with their own material. So it is that "Dancing Days," "The Rain Song" and "No Quarter" fall flat on their respective faces ? the first is filler while the latter two are nothing more than drawn-out vehicles for the further display of Jones' unknowledgeable use of mellotron and synthesizer.
"Over the Hills and Far Away" is cut from the same mold as "Stairway To Heaven," but without that song's torrid guitar solo it languishes in Dullsville ? just like the first five minutes of "Stairway." The whole premise of "graduated heaviness" (upon which both songs were built) really goes to show just how puerile and rudimentary this group can get when forced to scrounge for its own material. One would think that the group that stole "Whole Lotta Love," et al., might acquire an idea or two along the way, but evidently they weren't looking. Let's hear it for androids!
When you really get down to it Led Zeppelin hasn't come up with a consistent crop of heavymetal spuds since their second album. Their last three efforts have been so uneven that had they started with Led Zeppelin III I'm convinced they wouldn't be here today. While they've been busy denying their bluesrock roots, Robert Plant's vocals have lost their power and the band's instrumental work has lost its traces of spontaneity. In simple fact of matter, Houses of the Holy was 17 months in preparation, yet Led Zeppelin I (the product of a mere 15 hours) cuts it to shreds.
So all in all it's been two separate groups we've called Led Zeppelin, and I've tired of waiting for the only legitimate one to return. An occasional zinger like "When the Levee Breaks" isn't enough, especially when there are so many other groups today that don't bullshit around with inferior tripe like "Stairway To Heaven." Beck, Bogert & Appice, Black Sabbath, the Groundhogs, Robin Trower ? the list is long and they all fare musically better than the Zep because they stick to what they do best. Page and friends should similarly realize their limitations and get back to playing the blues-rock that moves mountains. Until they do Led Zeppelin will remain Limp Blimp. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
When George Harrison met John Bonham, the Beatle told the Led Zeppelin drummer, "The problem with your band is you don't do any ballads." Singer Robert Plant and guitarist Jimmy Page could have taken umbrage -- they had already written the gorgeous "Going to California" two years earlier, for God's sake. Instead, they rose to the challenge. "The Rain Song" is seven minutes of exquisite heartache, complete with Mellotron strings from John Paul Jones. And in tribute to Harrison, the opening two notes are recognizably borrowed from his ballad "Something."
Led Zeppelin took the title of House of the Holy from their term for oversize arenas and stadia where they played live. After five years together, they were ambitious and confident enough to believe they could meet any musical challenge; this album even includes a swinging take on reggae, "D'yer Mak'er." "Over the Hills and Far Away" builds in intensity just as relentlessly as "Stairway to Heaven." And "The Ocean," the love song for Plant's baby daughter that closes the album, is a mighty stomp that could rattle the teeth of fans in the last row of Madison Square Garden. The epic scale suited Zeppelin: They had the largest crowds, the loudest rock songs, the most groupies. Eventually excess would turn into bombast, but on Houses, it still provided inspiration. * * * * * -- Gavin Edwards, RS, 2003 (placing #123 on their best albums of all time list)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:05 (thirteen years ago)
repost to make fnb happy
My #s for RS Top 500 was supposed to be from the 2003 version, not the updated one, so I don't know why they don't match (the #123 vs. 149).
Interestingly, the original RS reviewer had some valid points. I've gone back and forth over the years, most most recently have been really liking the album.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:09 (thirteen years ago)
I've always liked "D'yer Mak'er." I'm a big reggae fan, but I wouldn't expect them to sound Jamaican. I really think a lot of people totally miss the point, and these critics seem way too uptight to be actual reggae fans. It's just supposed to be a fun tribute, not an inept copy. As with Patti Smith and most of the punkers. No one should expect their rhythm sections to magically turn into Sly & Robbie.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:18 (thirteen years ago)
"Dancing Days" is one of my fave Zepp tracks, the rest of the record is a little underwhelming I think.
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:19 (thirteen years ago)
137. BLACK SABBATH Black Sabbath (1710 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #4 for 1970 , #59 overall | Acclaimed: #461 | RS: #241http://www.goldminemag.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Black-Sabbath_Black-Sabbath.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/57CAarkoPZ13Ifbq0o2LCAspotify:album:57CAarkoPZ13Ifbq0o2LCA
The worst of the counterculture on a plastic platter--bullshit necromancy, drug-impaired reaction time, long solos, everything. They claim to oppose war, but if I don't believe in loving my enemies I don't believe in loving my allies either, and I've been worried something like this was going to happen since the first time I saw a numerology column in an underground newspaper. C- -- R. Christgau
From the Satanic mills of working class Britain, and the ashes of a blues band called Earth, the concept of Black Sabbath was loosed upon the land, the inflammatory name derived quite simply from a 1935 horror film. Comprising chaos personified vocalist "Ossie" osbourne, bassist Tony "Geezer" Butler, who creates something more like a bubterranean vibration than conventional sound, drummer Bill Ward, the original "eighteen wheeler hits drum shop" prototype, and Tony Iommi, virtually the sole creator of heavy metal guitar (let that sink in, 'cos it's true), Black Sabbath were a new and forceful machine of horrific, complex evil, only blind-sided by Deep Purple and In Rock in dual invention of heavy metal. The Album. This, the landmark debut, unfortunately for the Book of Sabbath, suffers the fate of being the only transitional step towards the concept of full metal jacket. But who cares? Everybody else took longer, starting from bases far more pathetic. Black Sabbath still retains the psychedelic noodling and disintegrated focus of the '60s. A craggy, hurtful and injured walk through a n inhospitable, oxygen-free moonscape, Black Sabbath oscillates between The First Metal and strung-out stupor at the thought of dark, new possibilities, long, sick, subdued jams and Satanic sleeps amongst some of the very first power chords ever etched in wax. Depraved as any Sabbath disc to follow, Black Sabbath deserves recognition as a single, cold, hard trek through depression slogging forth to suicide beneath an oddly low-octave Ozzy, the whole shot-down affair recorded in a single day. In any event, the record cuffed a complacent rock 'n' roll world in the head, and the buzz and blurred vision fortunately persists to this day. 7/8 -- M. PopoffMagic has finally wormed out of the drug attached stigma, come out from behind the "psychedelic" album covers and pretentious arrangements and found its way into a hard rock environment. Black Sabbath (the name of the group, their first album, and the first cut on the album), is frightening, frenzied, driving, satanical and excellently played, arranged and produced. Four musicians who I have never heard of before lay down one of the heaviest magic-music statements you'll ever hear.This album is a far cry from 90 percent of the junk that gets passed off as rock these days. From the opening thunderstorm of the last scream you hear only solid head-throbbing original rhythms, designed to reinforce your perception of the supernatural, evil powers that roam the earth. After listening to Ozzie Osbourne's vocals, which are unlike any previous style, one can't help wonder about Lucifer and the powers of darkness.This is definitely not a good time album and you probably won't hear it on many radio stations. It's too dangerous for 12 and 13 year olds to get into. Go out and get it, but stay in your magic circle when you listen to it. -- Mike Dillon, Hit ParaderMagic has finally wormed out of the drug attached stigma, come out from behind the "psychedelic" album covers and pretentious arrangements and found its way into a hard rock environment. Black Sabbath (the name of the group, their first album, and the first cut on the album), is frightening, frenzied, driving, satanical and excellently played, arranged and produced. Four musicians who I have never heard of before lay down one of the heaviest magic-music statements you'll ever hear.This album is a far cry from 90 percent of the junk that gets passed off as rock these days. From the opening thunderstorm of the last scream you hear only solid head-throbbing original rhythms, designed to reinforce your perception of the supernatural, evil powers that roam the earth. After listening to Ozzie Osbourne's vocals, which are unlike any previous style, one can't help wonder about Lucifer and the powers of darkness.This is definitely not a good time album and you probably won't hear it on many radio stations. It's too dangerous for 12 and 13 year olds to get into. Go out and get it, but stay in your magic circle when you listen to it. -- Mike Dillon, Hit ParaderOn this list for its enormous influence rather than its scintillating musical qualities, Black Sabbath's debut album is as weighty in reputation as in its sonic depth. With its opening eponymous song routinely hailed as the unholy-trinity anthem ("Black Sabbath," on Black Sabbath by Black Sabbath) that kickstarted heavy metal, the dark, dark sleeve art and the sludgy production seeping all over the basic, bludgeoning songs, the record still sounds supremely evil toady. In reality, Messrs. Osbourne, Iommi, Butler, and Ward have explained on many occasions, the album sounds grim because they recorded it in two days with a tiny budget -- and what is more, recorded it as a live band, volume peaks and all. Guitarist Tony Iommi, his fretting fingers infamously disfigured in an industrial accident, tuned his guitar down half a step to E flat and in doing so accentuated the song's crushing sound even further. The then-scary, now-laughable lyrics dealing with death and darkness only added to the brew.While the two extended song suites keep the album from sounding mundane -- and prove that the musicians had what it took to be inventive -- it is the individual songs that reveal most to the listener. Where "Black Sabbath" is all about grime and graveyard dirt, "N.I.B." has stood the test of time and remains a Sabbath live staple for its subtler qualities.Drink it all in, the gloomy atmosphere and the dark introspection, this is, after all, the world's first heavy metal record. -- Joel McIver, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
Magic has finally wormed out of the drug attached stigma, come out from behind the "psychedelic" album covers and pretentious arrangements and found its way into a hard rock environment. Black Sabbath (the name of the group, their first album, and the first cut on the album), is frightening, frenzied, driving, satanical and excellently played, arranged and produced. Four musicians who I have never heard of before lay down one of the heaviest magic-music statements you'll ever hear.
This album is a far cry from 90 percent of the junk that gets passed off as rock these days. From the opening thunderstorm of the last scream you hear only solid head-throbbing original rhythms, designed to reinforce your perception of the supernatural, evil powers that roam the earth. After listening to Ozzie Osbourne's vocals, which are unlike any previous style, one can't help wonder about Lucifer and the powers of darkness.This is definitely not a good time album and you probably won't hear it on many radio stations. It's too dangerous for 12 and 13 year olds to get into. Go out and get it, but stay in your magic circle when you listen to it. -- Mike Dillon, Hit ParaderMagic has finally wormed out of the drug attached stigma, come out from behind the "psychedelic" album covers and pretentious arrangements and found its way into a hard rock environment. Black Sabbath (the name of the group, their first album, and the first cut on the album), is frightening, frenzied, driving, satanical and excellently played, arranged and produced. Four musicians who I have never heard of before lay down one of the heaviest magic-music statements you'll ever hear.
This album is a far cry from 90 percent of the junk that gets passed off as rock these days. From the opening thunderstorm of the last scream you hear only solid head-throbbing original rhythms, designed to reinforce your perception of the supernatural, evil powers that roam the earth. After listening to Ozzie Osbourne's vocals, which are unlike any previous style, one can't help wonder about Lucifer and the powers of darkness.This is definitely not a good time album and you probably won't hear it on many radio stations. It's too dangerous for 12 and 13 year olds to get into. Go out and get it, but stay in your magic circle when you listen to it. -- Mike Dillon, Hit ParaderOn this list for its enormous influence rather than its scintillating musical qualities, Black Sabbath's debut album is as weighty in reputation as in its sonic depth. With its opening eponymous song routinely hailed as the unholy-trinity anthem ("Black Sabbath," on Black Sabbath by Black Sabbath) that kickstarted heavy metal, the dark, dark sleeve art and the sludgy production seeping all over the basic, bludgeoning songs, the record still sounds supremely evil toady. In reality, Messrs. Osbourne, Iommi, Butler, and Ward have explained on many occasions, the album sounds grim because they recorded it in two days with a tiny budget -- and what is more, recorded it as a live band, volume peaks and all. Guitarist Tony Iommi, his fretting fingers infamously disfigured in an industrial accident, tuned his guitar down half a step to E flat and in doing so accentuated the song's crushing sound even further. The then-scary, now-laughable lyrics dealing with death and darkness only added to the brew.While the two extended song suites keep the album from sounding mundane -- and prove that the musicians had what it took to be inventive -- it is the individual songs that reveal most to the listener. Where "Black Sabbath" is all about grime and graveyard dirt, "N.I.B." has stood the test of time and remains a Sabbath live staple for its subtler qualities.
Drink it all in, the gloomy atmosphere and the dark introspection, this is, after all, the world's first heavy metal record. -- Joel McIver, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
review[-] by Steve HueyBlack Sabbath's debut album is the birth of heavy metal as we now know it. Compatriots like Blue Cheer, Led Zeppelin, and Deep Purple were already setting new standards for volume and heaviness in the realms of psychedelia, blues-rock, and prog rock. Yet of these metal pioneers, Sabbath are the only one whose sound today remains instantly recognizable as heavy metal, even after decades of evolution in the genre. Circumstance certainly played some role in the birth of this musical revolution -- the sonic ugliness reflecting the bleak industrial nightmare of Birmingham; guitarist Tony Iommi's loss of two fingertips, which required him to play slower and to slacken the strings by tuning his guitar down, thus creating Sabbath's signature style. These qualities set the band apart, but they weren't wholly why this debut album transcends its clear roots in blues-rock and psychedelia to become something more. Sabbath's genius was finding the hidden malevolence in the blues, and then bludgeoning the listener over the head with it. Take the legendary album-opening title cut. The standard pentatonic blues scale always added the tritone, or flatted fifth, as the so-called "blues note"; Sabbath simply extracted it and came up with one of the simplest yet most definitive heavy metal riffs of all time. Thematically, most of heavy metal's great lyrical obsessions are not only here, they're all crammed onto side one. "Black Sabbath," "The Wizard," "Behind the Wall of Sleep," and "N.I.B." evoke visions of evil, paganism, and the occult as filtered through horror films and the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien, H.P. Lovecraft, and Dennis Wheatley. Even if the album ended here, it would still be essential listening. Unfortunately, much of side two is given over to loose blues-rock jamming learned through Cream, which plays squarely into the band's limitations. For all his stylistic innovations and strengths as a composer, Iommi isn't a hugely accomplished soloist. By the end of the murky, meandering, ten-minute cover of the Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation's "Warning," you can already hear him recycling some of the same simple blues licks he used on side one (plus, the word "warn" never even appears in the song, because Ozzy Osbourne misheard the original lyrics). (The British release included another cover, a version of Crow's "Evil Woman" that doesn't quite pack the muscle of the band's originals; the American version substituted "Wicked World," which is much preferred by fans.) But even if the seams are still showing on this quickly recorded document, Black Sabbath is nonetheless a revolutionary debut whose distinctive ideas merely await a bit more focus and development. Henceforth Black Sabbath would forge ahead with a vision that was wholly theirs.
Black Sabbath's debut album is the birth of heavy metal as we now know it. Compatriots like Blue Cheer, Led Zeppelin, and Deep Purple were already setting new standards for volume and heaviness in the realms of psychedelia, blues-rock, and prog rock. Yet of these metal pioneers, Sabbath are the only one whose sound today remains instantly recognizable as heavy metal, even after decades of evolution in the genre. Circumstance certainly played some role in the birth of this musical revolution -- the sonic ugliness reflecting the bleak industrial nightmare of Birmingham; guitarist Tony Iommi's loss of two fingertips, which required him to play slower and to slacken the strings by tuning his guitar down, thus creating Sabbath's signature style. These qualities set the band apart, but they weren't wholly why this debut album transcends its clear roots in blues-rock and psychedelia to become something more. Sabbath's genius was finding the hidden malevolence in the blues, and then bludgeoning the listener over the head with it. Take the legendary album-opening title cut. The standard pentatonic blues scale always added the tritone, or flatted fifth, as the so-called "blues note"; Sabbath simply extracted it and came up with one of the simplest yet most definitive heavy metal riffs of all time. Thematically, most of heavy metal's great lyrical obsessions are not only here, they're all crammed onto side one. "Black Sabbath," "The Wizard," "Behind the Wall of Sleep," and "N.I.B." evoke visions of evil, paganism, and the occult as filtered through horror films and the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien, H.P. Lovecraft, and Dennis Wheatley. Even if the album ended here, it would still be essential listening. Unfortunately, much of side two is given over to loose blues-rock jamming learned through Cream, which plays squarely into the band's limitations. For all his stylistic innovations and strengths as a composer, Iommi isn't a hugely accomplished soloist. By the end of the murky, meandering, ten-minute cover of the Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation's "Warning," you can already hear him recycling some of the same simple blues licks he used on side one (plus, the word "warn" never even appears in the song, because Ozzy Osbourne misheard the original lyrics). (The British release included another cover, a version of Crow's "Evil Woman" that doesn't quite pack the muscle of the band's originals; the American version substituted "Wicked World," which is much preferred by fans.) But even if the seams are still showing on this quickly recorded document, Black Sabbath is nonetheless a revolutionary debut whose distinctive ideas merely await a bit more focus and development. Henceforth Black Sabbath would forge ahead with a vision that was wholly theirs.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:21 (thirteen years ago)
The Antichristgau
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:23 (thirteen years ago)
40 years ago, metal was born like a demon-alien out of the festering guts of rock ‘n’ rollBlack Sabbath’s self-titled debut came out Friday the 13th, February 1970. One of my neighbors in the apartment building I moved into when I was eight had this record. I heard it and Paranoid and Master Of Reality and had to go through emotional-scarring lengths to be able to hear it. My reward was that it scared the bejeezus out of me, just like the Salem’s Lot and Exorcist movies did (and my mom’s book Rosemary’s Baby). I unsuccessfully tried to borrow it, and was almost relieved that I couldn't because I was afraid it would conjure demons under my bed if I kept it around! It was another decade before my own demons were mature enough to party with it.Black Sabbath’s debut is easily the first indisputable metal album. While it still employs blues structures and even a mouth harp, nearly every song is pounded out with power chords. Not to mention it sounds goddam scary, particularly in the opening title track’s use of the tritone, the musical interval that spans three whole tones, like the diminished 5th or augmented 4th. The gap between two notes played in succession or simultaneously was known by medieval musicians as Diabolus in Musica – the Devil’s Interval. The Roman Catholic Church in the Middle Ages forbid the use of the tritone, believing it was the work of the devil. Nevertheless, the tricky tritone made appearances in Beethoven’s Fidelio, Giuseppe Tartini’s Devil’s Trill Sonata, Wagner’s Gotterdammerung, even West Side Story’s “Maria.” Often harmonized in thirds in the harmonic minor scale, it produces a feeling of dread. It creates a spooky tension that can either lead to a major chord resolution, or simply leave listeners dangling over the abyss of despair.The anniversary of Black Sabbath's debut is no small event, and deserves, nay, DEMANDS proper celebration!!! \m/ -- Fastnbulbous, February 13, 2010
Black Sabbath’s debut is easily the first indisputable metal album. While it still employs blues structures and even a mouth harp, nearly every song is pounded out with power chords. Not to mention it sounds goddam scary, particularly in the opening title track’s use of the tritone, the musical interval that spans three whole tones, like the diminished 5th or augmented 4th. The gap between two notes played in succession or simultaneously was known by medieval musicians as Diabolus in Musica – the Devil’s Interval. The Roman Catholic Church in the Middle Ages forbid the use of the tritone, believing it was the work of the devil. Nevertheless, the tricky tritone made appearances in Beethoven’s Fidelio, Giuseppe Tartini’s Devil’s Trill Sonata, Wagner’s Gotterdammerung, even West Side Story’s “Maria.” Often harmonized in thirds in the harmonic minor scale, it produces a feeling of dread. It creates a spooky tension that can either lead to a major chord resolution, or simply leave listeners dangling over the abyss of despair.
The anniversary of Black Sabbath's debut is no small event, and deserves, nay, DEMANDS proper celebration!!! \m/ -- Fastnbulbous, February 13, 2010
As promised, here is the rest of my story that I left out. My mom and I moved out from my grandparents' house and into an apartment building shortly after my semester for the third grade started. Across the hall from me was a girl named Jolene, who was nice, but I was a bit spooked by her crazy eyes. One day I was at her place looking through her mom's albums and discovered the first three Sabbath albums. Those and the Yes and Pink Floyd seemed to stand out amongst the Eagles, Linda Rondstadt, Barbara Streisand, John Denver, etc. They likely belonged to Jolene's absentee/deadbeat father or another boyfriend of her mom's . I didn't know Sabbath but from the covers I knew I had to hear them. When I asked to borrow them she could tell how interested I was and got a devious look in her eyes. She said I'd have to listen to them there, and I would have to do whatever she tells me to. "Like what," I asked her apprehensively.
Cut to montage of me playing girly games with her and her dolls with the doomy strains of Black Sabbath playing in the background. It wasn't so bad, her simulations of tea parties and other mundane domestic simulations made interesting by the fascinating, frightening sounds of Ozzy, Tony & Co. One day, however, she had those crazy eyes again, and announced I was to be "her dog." Too bad no one left a copy of the first Stooges album there. So there I was crawling around, following her commands, eating graham crackers from a bowl. She disappeared for a bit and I'd like to say "Evil Woman" was playing but that wasn't on that copy of the album. Then she leaps out from another room stark-naked and says, "LICK ME!" Just at that second, her mom came home and chased me out, swinging her bag at me, shrieking, "Stop molesting my daughter!" My mom opens the door at the commotion and she's not buying it that I'm the guilty party. She's right, I was just 8 and had no idea what Jolene expected me to do. Meanwhile, Jolene runs by streaking through the public hallway, gleefully screaming, "Aaaaahhhhh!" Her mom grabbed her to get her out of the hallway and probably it was bad timing, but I asked her mom if I could borrow her Sabbath records. She just slammed the door.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:23 (thirteen years ago)
I'm not really sure we can top that
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:31 (thirteen years ago)
136. ARTHUR LEE Vindicator (1715 Points, 14 VotesRYM: #611 for 1972http://vol8.music-bazaar.com/album-images/vol8/453/453091/2267273-big/Vindicator-cover.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5QSqQHR3yExDLHKBXJAifespotify:album:5QSqQHR3yExDLHKBXJAife
As the brains behind Love, the Los Angeles equivalent of the Velvet Underground in both critical and commercial clout, Lee majored in popsong and minored in instrumental excursions of unusual long-windedness. On this record his brush with Jimi at the time of False Start seems to have fused these two interests. At its worst--which is nowhere near as bad as the second side of Da Capo--Lee elaborates Jimi's vocal style while Charles Karp strives fruitlessly to keep up on guitar. At its best--which is nowhere near as amazing as the first side of False Start--he offers readymade blues-based popsongs of undeniable drive and charm. What tips the balance for me is the only phrase that stays in my mind: "Ooh what a dish, she smelled just like a fish." Jimi was too sweet ever to make his sexism that nasty. B- -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Mark DemingLove's 1967 masterpiece Forever Changes was an album so beautiful and timeless that it tends to dwarf everything else in the group's repertoire, and its gentle balance of grace and dread has made a lot of people forget just how hard Love could rock when Arthur Lee and his bandmates were of a mind. While Love's debut album pushed folk-rock into an overdrive that resembled punk, Lee's first solo set, 1972's Vindicator, was a muscular set of guitar-fueled hard rock laced with blues, showing the clear influence of Lee's late friend Jimi Hendrix. With Charles Karp's powerful guitar leads dominating the arrangements and Lee's vocals strutting with maximum rock star swagger on tunes like "Love Jumped Through My Window" and "Sad Song," Vindicator boogies with a cocky confidence that belies the fact Lee's career was in need of a clear direction at the time, and while there are no signs of the delicacy of Forever Changes, three decades on this sounds like mid-'70s guitar rock at its best. Lee was able to bring a soulful edge to songs like "Everybody's Gotta Live" and "He Knows a Lot of Good Women," and he connects with a sly blues shuffle on "He Said She Said," but it's when Lee and Karp crank up their guitars and the rhythm section of Don Poncher and David Hull turn up the heat that Vindicator really takes off, inviting the spirit with the kiss-the-sky spirit of "You Want Change for Our Re-Run" and laying out some thick Marshall-stack crunch on "Every Time I Look Up I'm Down." And anyone wanting a dose of Lee's well-documented eccentricity won't be at all disappointed with the brief spoken word fragment "You Can Save Up to 50% But You're Still a Long Ways from Home" and the anti-fast food tirade "Hamburger Breath Stinkfinger," both of which confirm Lee didn't turn away his muse when he cut these sessions. While Arthur Lee could create music of simple and fragile beauty, that doesn't change the fact he was a rocker at heart, and he rarely rocked harder or with more passion than he did on Vindicator.
Love's 1967 masterpiece Forever Changes was an album so beautiful and timeless that it tends to dwarf everything else in the group's repertoire, and its gentle balance of grace and dread has made a lot of people forget just how hard Love could rock when Arthur Lee and his bandmates were of a mind. While Love's debut album pushed folk-rock into an overdrive that resembled punk, Lee's first solo set, 1972's Vindicator, was a muscular set of guitar-fueled hard rock laced with blues, showing the clear influence of Lee's late friend Jimi Hendrix. With Charles Karp's powerful guitar leads dominating the arrangements and Lee's vocals strutting with maximum rock star swagger on tunes like "Love Jumped Through My Window" and "Sad Song," Vindicator boogies with a cocky confidence that belies the fact Lee's career was in need of a clear direction at the time, and while there are no signs of the delicacy of Forever Changes, three decades on this sounds like mid-'70s guitar rock at its best. Lee was able to bring a soulful edge to songs like "Everybody's Gotta Live" and "He Knows a Lot of Good Women," and he connects with a sly blues shuffle on "He Said She Said," but it's when Lee and Karp crank up their guitars and the rhythm section of Don Poncher and David Hull turn up the heat that Vindicator really takes off, inviting the spirit with the kiss-the-sky spirit of "You Want Change for Our Re-Run" and laying out some thick Marshall-stack crunch on "Every Time I Look Up I'm Down." And anyone wanting a dose of Lee's well-documented eccentricity won't be at all disappointed with the brief spoken word fragment "You Can Save Up to 50% But You're Still a Long Ways from Home" and the anti-fast food tirade "Hamburger Breath Stinkfinger," both of which confirm Lee didn't turn away his muse when he cut these sessions. While Arthur Lee could create music of simple and fragile beauty, that doesn't change the fact he was a rocker at heart, and he rarely rocked harder or with more passion than he did on Vindicator.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:40 (thirteen years ago)
Fastnbulbous, that is a great story.
― emil.y, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:42 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks! Any other tributes to Sabbath?
Such a bizarre, cheesy cover. I had no idea any of Lee's solo stuff was worthwhile. So far "Sad Song" blows. Bar band boogie oogie woogie.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:46 (thirteen years ago)
A part of me suspected that the evil undertones of Black Sabbath's music made women go wild. This theory was shot to shit in college when they'd just wrinkle their noses and ask me to put on some Billie Holiday or Smiths.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:49 (thirteen years ago)
Cover's not cheesy, it's weird, it's like something Swamp Dogg would do
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Sunday, 24 March 2013 17:55 (thirteen years ago)
135. WIRE 154 (1730 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #11 for 1979 , #339 overall | Acclaimed: #747 | Pitchfork: #85http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/616/MI0000616027.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/54csKoPnQbDk0dh2Un2gl4spotify:album:54csKoPnQbDk0dh2Un2gl4
Predictions that these art-schoolers would turn into art-rockers no longer seem so cynical. Their gift for the horrifying vignette remains. But their tempos are slowing, sometimes to a crawl, as their textures venture toward the orchestral, and neither effect enhances the power of their vignettes, which become ever more personalistic and/or abstract. B -- R. ChristgauThe soundscapes became lusher and grander ("Map Ref. 41øN 93øW"), the lyrics more impressionistic and Beat poetic ("On Returning") and the melodies even more memorable ("The 15th") on 154. The final studio album by Wire's Mark I was titled for the number of gigs the group had played. (The CD reissue includes an EP of experimental tracks originally released as a bonus with the vinyl LP.) Taken together, these first three albums are evidence of an amazing amount of growth in less than three years. They account for Wire's vaunted reputation, and they have been cited as primary influences by such diverse bands as R.E.M., Minor Threat, Mission of Burma, Sonic Youth, the Minutemen, Hüsker Dü and Big Black — '80s postpunk bands that were in turn substantial influences on '90s alternative rock. -- Trouser PressOver the past two years, Wire has established itself as one of the most artisticaly compelling English New Wave bands. Not that you'd know it here in America, where their first album, the minimalist classic, Pink Flag, sank without a trace, and their second, the more texturally ambitious Chairs Missig, wasn't released at all. Now Wire has found a new American label, and just in time since their current LP, 154, is their finest achievement.Unlike PInk Flag, which was characterized by a raw, distorted guitar sound so thick and nasty it made the Ramones seem like a string quartet, 154 is dominated by expertly layered synthesizers and a near-autistic vocal style that alternately recalls early Roxy Music (particularly in "The 15th," which suggests that Roxy's third record might have sounded like had Eno stuck around) and the original Syd Barrett-led Pink Floyd (note the detached, postpsychedelic sensibility of "A Mutual Friend"). Despite tasteful touches of flute, electric viola and cor anglais, there's still plenty of bone-conduction guitar ("Single K.O.," "A Touching Display" and the otherworldly "I Should Have Known Better") and, most importantly, more real rock & roll invention than most groups are able to come up with in a a career.Wire's thematic concerns have always been oblique, to say the least. Like the painter Rene Magritte, this band distills a witty, often mordant surrealism from the most achingly commonplace situations. Even the unremarkable tableau of two people simply sitting in a room (a train station? a doctor's office?) becomes an excruciating encounter: "The lightning is fierce/It's intended to pierce/Any cloak of deceit/And encourage retreat." IN the hypnotic "I Should Have Known Better"--about as close as Wire gets to a love song, though John Denver would surely not recognize it as such--the singer observes "In an act of contrition, I lay down by your side.../Am I laughing or crying?/I suggest I'm not lying." The fractured perceptions and deadpan jokes here are endlessly intriguing, once you tear yourself away from the marvelously convoluted hooks and richly realized performances that distinguish virtually every cut on this excellent album. -- Kurt Loder, RS
The soundscapes became lusher and grander ("Map Ref. 41øN 93øW"), the lyrics more impressionistic and Beat poetic ("On Returning") and the melodies even more memorable ("The 15th") on 154. The final studio album by Wire's Mark I was titled for the number of gigs the group had played. (The CD reissue includes an EP of experimental tracks originally released as a bonus with the vinyl LP.) Taken together, these first three albums are evidence of an amazing amount of growth in less than three years. They account for Wire's vaunted reputation, and they have been cited as primary influences by such diverse bands as R.E.M., Minor Threat, Mission of Burma, Sonic Youth, the Minutemen, Hüsker Dü and Big Black — '80s postpunk bands that were in turn substantial influences on '90s alternative rock. -- Trouser Press
Over the past two years, Wire has established itself as one of the most artisticaly compelling English New Wave bands. Not that you'd know it here in America, where their first album, the minimalist classic, Pink Flag, sank without a trace, and their second, the more texturally ambitious Chairs Missig, wasn't released at all. Now Wire has found a new American label, and just in time since their current LP, 154, is their finest achievement.
Unlike PInk Flag, which was characterized by a raw, distorted guitar sound so thick and nasty it made the Ramones seem like a string quartet, 154 is dominated by expertly layered synthesizers and a near-autistic vocal style that alternately recalls early Roxy Music (particularly in "The 15th," which suggests that Roxy's third record might have sounded like had Eno stuck around) and the original Syd Barrett-led Pink Floyd (note the detached, postpsychedelic sensibility of "A Mutual Friend"). Despite tasteful touches of flute, electric viola and cor anglais, there's still plenty of bone-conduction guitar ("Single K.O.," "A Touching Display" and the otherworldly "I Should Have Known Better") and, most importantly, more real rock & roll invention than most groups are able to come up with in a a career.
Wire's thematic concerns have always been oblique, to say the least. Like the painter Rene Magritte, this band distills a witty, often mordant surrealism from the most achingly commonplace situations. Even the unremarkable tableau of two people simply sitting in a room (a train station? a doctor's office?) becomes an excruciating encounter: "The lightning is fierce/It's intended to pierce/Any cloak of deceit/And encourage retreat." IN the hypnotic "I Should Have Known Better"--about as close as Wire gets to a love song, though John Denver would surely not recognize it as such--the singer observes "In an act of contrition, I lay down by your side.../Am I laughing or crying?/I suggest I'm not lying." The fractured perceptions and deadpan jokes here are endlessly intriguing, once you tear yourself away from the marvelously convoluted hooks and richly realized performances that distinguish virtually every cut on this excellent album. -- Kurt Loder, RS
review[-] by Steve HueyNamed for the number of live gigs Wire had played to that point, 154 refines and expands the innovations of Chairs Missing, with producer Mike Thorne's synthesizer effects playing an even more integral role; little of Pink Flag's rawness remains. If Chairs Missing was a transitional album between punk and post-punk, 154 is squarely in the latter camp, devoting itself to experimental soundscapes that can sound cold and forbidding at times. However, the best tracks retain their humanity thanks to the arrangements' smooth, seamless blend of electronic and guitar textures and the beauty of the group's melodies. Where previously some of Wire's hooks could find themselves buried or not properly brought out, the fully fleshed-out production of 154 lends a sweeping splendor to "The 15th," the epic "A Touching Display," "A Mutual Friend," and the gorgeous (if obscurely titled) "Map Ref. 41°N 93°W." Not every track is a gem, as the group's artier tendencies occasionally get the better of them, but 154's best moments help make it at least the equal of Chairs Missing. It's difficult to believe that a band that evolved as quickly and altered its sound as restlessly as Wire did could be out of ideas after only three years and three albums, but such was the case according to its members, and with their (temporary, as it turned out) disbandment following this album, Wire's most fertile and influential period came to a close. [The original 1989 CD issue by Restless Retro features four bonus tracks from an experimental EP issued with some copies of the vinyl LP.]
Named for the number of live gigs Wire had played to that point, 154 refines and expands the innovations of Chairs Missing, with producer Mike Thorne's synthesizer effects playing an even more integral role; little of Pink Flag's rawness remains. If Chairs Missing was a transitional album between punk and post-punk, 154 is squarely in the latter camp, devoting itself to experimental soundscapes that can sound cold and forbidding at times. However, the best tracks retain their humanity thanks to the arrangements' smooth, seamless blend of electronic and guitar textures and the beauty of the group's melodies. Where previously some of Wire's hooks could find themselves buried or not properly brought out, the fully fleshed-out production of 154 lends a sweeping splendor to "The 15th," the epic "A Touching Display," "A Mutual Friend," and the gorgeous (if obscurely titled) "Map Ref. 41°N 93°W." Not every track is a gem, as the group's artier tendencies occasionally get the better of them, but 154's best moments help make it at least the equal of Chairs Missing. It's difficult to believe that a band that evolved as quickly and altered its sound as restlessly as Wire did could be out of ideas after only three years and three albums, but such was the case according to its members, and with their (temporary, as it turned out) disbandment following this album, Wire's most fertile and influential period came to a close. [The original 1989 CD issue by Restless Retro features four bonus tracks from an experimental EP issued with some copies of the vinyl LP.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:00 (thirteen years ago)
Bless Kurt Loder, he's awesome. My high school library had most of the back issues of Rolling Stone and I would check them out and spent part of my free period hanging out in empty classrooms reading them. I remember reading this one and wishing I could find a copy of that damn album. I remember the day I finally got it years later. A rare warm January day in Minnesota, I biked 25+ miles round-trip to Tatters 'n' Platters in Mpls where I special ordered it, to pick it up, along with Gang Of Four's Entertainment. I envy anyone who gets to hear this stuff now for the first time!
Arthur Lee's "You Want Change For Your Re-Run" sounds like a great Hendrix outtake. It's growin'!
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:06 (thirteen years ago)
134. OHIO PLAYERS Honey (1734 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #318 for 1975http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRxfvH6kBOI/TL4JPz-4kmI/AAAAAAAAAJs/o7RQneO7tjE/s1600/Ohio+Players+-+Honey+-+Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0AvhdOj3ZkWuNrRJujCOb9spotify:album:0AvhdOj3ZkWuNrRJujCOb9
A/k/a Boogity-Shoogity, and I don't mean to be mean--I quite like these guys in limited doses. There are even good slow ones here. What's more, it's their funniest album ever, and that's no typo. Only I can't quite convince myself that artistic development is even a category for a group that is clearly pure Act if not pure Product. What I can do, however, is be glad that they make Earth, Wind & Fire sound like the Herbie Mann Singers. B+ -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Alex HendersonHoney may have had the most controversial LP cover of 1975. Its erotic cover, which depicted a nude model covered in honey, was protested by feminists when it was alleged that the model had become stuck to the floor during the photo shoot. Some retailers, in fact, refused to carry it. All the controversy certainly didn't hurt the album commercially. In 1975, the Ohio Players were one of R&B's most successful acts, and were inescapable for anyone who listened to black radio at the time. The album kept the band's commercial momentum going thanks to such hard-driving funk as "Love Rollercoaster" (a song that was sampled to death by rappers in the 1980s and '90s and covered by the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 1996), "Fopp," (covered by Soundgarden early onin their career) and the playfully jazz-influenced hit "Sweet Sticky Thing." While the Players' outstanding contributions to funk would continue to have an enormous impact long after the band's popularity faded, it's important to stress that only about half of Honey falls into the funk category. In fact, lead singer Sugarfoot's moving performance on the remorseful "Alone" makes one wish that the Players' ballads were discussed more often.
Honey may have had the most controversial LP cover of 1975. Its erotic cover, which depicted a nude model covered in honey, was protested by feminists when it was alleged that the model had become stuck to the floor during the photo shoot. Some retailers, in fact, refused to carry it. All the controversy certainly didn't hurt the album commercially. In 1975, the Ohio Players were one of R&B's most successful acts, and were inescapable for anyone who listened to black radio at the time. The album kept the band's commercial momentum going thanks to such hard-driving funk as "Love Rollercoaster" (a song that was sampled to death by rappers in the 1980s and '90s and covered by the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 1996), "Fopp," (covered by Soundgarden early onin their career) and the playfully jazz-influenced hit "Sweet Sticky Thing." While the Players' outstanding contributions to funk would continue to have an enormous impact long after the band's popularity faded, it's important to stress that only about half of Honey falls into the funk category. In fact, lead singer Sugarfoot's moving performance on the remorseful "Alone" makes one wish that the Players' ballads were discussed more often.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:15 (thirteen years ago)
If you want to see the inside of the double gatefold cover then go herehttps://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQAyKPRbs2rKew_-UQektDfRHZVUTY0URoKAjZ-PskSsW0q6smy
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:17 (thirteen years ago)
http://www.flickr.com/photos/christianmontone/5124088650/
Too low obviously
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:20 (thirteen years ago)
133. AEROSMITH Toys in the Attic (1735 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #55 for 1975 , #2202 overall | Acclaimed: #359 | RS: #228http://media.soundonsound.com/sos/aug09/images/ClassicTracks_05.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/36IxIOGEBAXVozDSiVs09Bspotify:album:36IxIOGEBAXVozDSiVs09B
These boys are learning a trade in record time--even the sludgy numbers get crazy. Too bad the two real whompers are attached to rockstar lyrics, albeit clever ones, because Steve Tyler has a gift for the dirty line as well as the dirty look--anybody who can hook a song called "Adam's Apple" around the phrase "love at first bite" deserves to rehabilitate a blue blues like "Big Ten Inch Record." B+ -- R. ChristgauAerosmith, a five-piece Boston hard-rock band with almost unlimited potential, can't seem to hurdle the last boulder separating it from complete success. Like Toys in the Attic, their two previous LPs have had several stellar moments which were weakened by othe instances of directionless meandering and downright weak material. That these albums stood the test of time is testimony to the band's raw abilities and some outstanding production on the part of Jack Douglas -- Toys in the Attic, I'm afraid, can't claim the latter.What's really important to bands of this sort is initial impact -- the production must explode, enveloping the listener with a rampaging barrage of sound. The ideal mix is hot and spacious, with each instument well defined and immediately intimate. A mix, in fact, not all unlike that of the band's previous LP, Get Your Wings. On Toys Aerosmith is given a more compact, jumbled mix that gives more of a "group" feel but robs them of that explosive ambience. Hence it's much harder to get involved with that music at first exposure to it.The material here follows the familiar patterns -- some good moments, some nondescript ones. With their aggressive, ambisexual stance, reliance on bristling open chording and admitted mid-Sixties English rock roots, Aerosmith can be very good when they're on, and material like "Walk This Way," "Sweet Emotion" and the title cut adequately proves this once you're past the generally oppressive production. "Big Ten-Inch Record," "Uncle Salty" and "You See Me Crying," though, are poor choices, changes of pace which deny the band the use of their strongest asset -- hardnosed, aggressive raunch.If Aerosmith can avoid the sloppiness that's plagued their recent live performances, if they return to the production that made parts of Get Your Wings so memorable, and most importantly, if they avoid tepid, trite material, then their potential is extremely high. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSLed Zeppelin and Black Sabbath may have blazed the trail for hard rock, but with their third album, Aerosmith sprang forth as the progenitors of "cock rock" -- a subgenre that reveled in sex, drugs, and double-entendre to a level that made Led Zep's "The Lemon Song" sound like something from the church hymnal. It also won the band an international audience.After several years pounding the circuit as a support act, the Boston-based unit landed a contract with Columbia after playing Max's Kansas City with punk godfathers The New York Dolls. However, their first two albums failed to make an impression as the band struggled to define itself amid unflattering comparisons to The Rolling Stones. With Jack Dougles in charge of console knob-twiddling, they entered the studio for what was now surely their make-or-break effort.From the outset, it is clear that the band knew what was at stake. With a sizzling hi-hat crash, crunching riff, and growling chant, the title track pounces on the listener with a mixture of imagination and sheer insanity. The more laidback "Uncle Salty" is no less brazen, detailing a sleazy tale of whores, pimps, and dealers. But it is "Walk This Way" and "Sweet Emotion," with their funk-flavored grooves, insistent guitar work, and thinly veiled refrences to any number of illicit activities, that established the band's modus operandi and cemented their place in rock history.Toys... reached No. 11 in the United States, and even brought about the re-release of "Dream On," a single from their first album that had floundered just two years earlier. The single became their second Top Ten hit. -- Tim Sheridan, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die,
Aerosmith, a five-piece Boston hard-rock band with almost unlimited potential, can't seem to hurdle the last boulder separating it from complete success. Like Toys in the Attic, their two previous LPs have had several stellar moments which were weakened by othe instances of directionless meandering and downright weak material. That these albums stood the test of time is testimony to the band's raw abilities and some outstanding production on the part of Jack Douglas -- Toys in the Attic, I'm afraid, can't claim the latter.
What's really important to bands of this sort is initial impact -- the production must explode, enveloping the listener with a rampaging barrage of sound. The ideal mix is hot and spacious, with each instument well defined and immediately intimate. A mix, in fact, not all unlike that of the band's previous LP, Get Your Wings. On Toys Aerosmith is given a more compact, jumbled mix that gives more of a "group" feel but robs them of that explosive ambience. Hence it's much harder to get involved with that music at first exposure to it.
The material here follows the familiar patterns -- some good moments, some nondescript ones. With their aggressive, ambisexual stance, reliance on bristling open chording and admitted mid-Sixties English rock roots, Aerosmith can be very good when they're on, and material like "Walk This Way," "Sweet Emotion" and the title cut adequately proves this once you're past the generally oppressive production. "Big Ten-Inch Record," "Uncle Salty" and "You See Me Crying," though, are poor choices, changes of pace which deny the band the use of their strongest asset -- hardnosed, aggressive raunch.
If Aerosmith can avoid the sloppiness that's plagued their recent live performances, if they return to the production that made parts of Get Your Wings so memorable, and most importantly, if they avoid tepid, trite material, then their potential is extremely high. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath may have blazed the trail for hard rock, but with their third album, Aerosmith sprang forth as the progenitors of "cock rock" -- a subgenre that reveled in sex, drugs, and double-entendre to a level that made Led Zep's "The Lemon Song" sound like something from the church hymnal. It also won the band an international audience.After several years pounding the circuit as a support act, the Boston-based unit landed a contract with Columbia after playing Max's Kansas City with punk godfathers The New York Dolls. However, their first two albums failed to make an impression as the band struggled to define itself amid unflattering comparisons to The Rolling Stones. With Jack Dougles in charge of console knob-twiddling, they entered the studio for what was now surely their make-or-break effort.From the outset, it is clear that the band knew what was at stake. With a sizzling hi-hat crash, crunching riff, and growling chant, the title track pounces on the listener with a mixture of imagination and sheer insanity. The more laidback "Uncle Salty" is no less brazen, detailing a sleazy tale of whores, pimps, and dealers. But it is "Walk This Way" and "Sweet Emotion," with their funk-flavored grooves, insistent guitar work, and thinly veiled refrences to any number of illicit activities, that established the band's modus operandi and cemented their place in rock history.Toys... reached No. 11 in the United States, and even brought about the re-release of "Dream On," a single from their first album that had floundered just two years earlier. The single became their second Top Ten hit. -- Tim Sheridan, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die,
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineAfter nearly getting off the ground with Get Your Wings, Aerosmith finally perfected their mix of Stonesy raunch and Zeppelin-esque riffing with their third album, Toys in the Attic. The success of the album derives from a combination of an increased sense of songwriting skills and purpose. Not only does Joe Perry turn out indelible riffs like "Walk This Way," "Toys in the Attic," and "Sweet Emotion," but Steven Tyler has fully embraced sleaziness as his artistic muse. Taking his cue from the old dirty blues "Big Ten Inch Record," Tyler writes with a gleeful impishness about sex throughout Toys in the Attic, whether it's the teenage heavy petting of "Walk This Way," the promiscuous "Sweet Emotion," or the double-entendres of "Uncle Salty" and "Adam's Apple." The rest of Aerosmith, led by Perry's dirty, exaggerated riffing, provide an appropriately greasy backing. Before Toys in the Attic, no other hard rock band sounded like this. Sure, Aerosmith cribbed heavily from the records of the Rolling Stones, New York Dolls, and Led Zeppelin, but they didn't have any of the menace of their influences, nor any of their mystique. Aerosmith was a gritty, street-wise hard rock band who played their blues as blooze and were in it for a good time; Toys in the Attic crystallizes that attitude.
After nearly getting off the ground with Get Your Wings, Aerosmith finally perfected their mix of Stonesy raunch and Zeppelin-esque riffing with their third album, Toys in the Attic. The success of the album derives from a combination of an increased sense of songwriting skills and purpose. Not only does Joe Perry turn out indelible riffs like "Walk This Way," "Toys in the Attic," and "Sweet Emotion," but Steven Tyler has fully embraced sleaziness as his artistic muse. Taking his cue from the old dirty blues "Big Ten Inch Record," Tyler writes with a gleeful impishness about sex throughout Toys in the Attic, whether it's the teenage heavy petting of "Walk This Way," the promiscuous "Sweet Emotion," or the double-entendres of "Uncle Salty" and "Adam's Apple." The rest of Aerosmith, led by Perry's dirty, exaggerated riffing, provide an appropriately greasy backing. Before Toys in the Attic, no other hard rock band sounded like this. Sure, Aerosmith cribbed heavily from the records of the Rolling Stones, New York Dolls, and Led Zeppelin, but they didn't have any of the menace of their influences, nor any of their mystique. Aerosmith was a gritty, street-wise hard rock band who played their blues as blooze and were in it for a good time; Toys in the Attic crystallizes that attitude.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:31 (thirteen years ago)
Poll is making me realize how little I like rock/rockin music these days.
― _Rudipherous_, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:33 (thirteen years ago)
because you don't like these albums or because modern rock isn't as good to you as old stuff?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:36 (thirteen years ago)
Really? This poll reminded me the vastness of great rockin music that's out there beyond the canon, that I'm still discovering.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:44 (thirteen years ago)
132. STEVE HILLAGE Fish Rising (1740 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #77 for 1975 , #3003 overallhttp://www.recordsale.de/cdpix/s/steve_hillage-fish_rising(1).jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2IfufXMgO8WKAIEeyNbzoYspotify:album:2IfufXMgO8WKAIEeyNbzoY
The first thing that springs to mind when I think of Fish Rising is a bit in the Salmon Song, to which my chemically unhinged brain conjures cartoons of lines of salmon marching across the walls on their rear fins in time to the music…The second thing that I think of is the person who introduced me to this record. I have described this person in my review of Angel’s Egg by Gong. If anything, Fish Rising means more to me than Angel’s Egg, which was my first introduction to the Gong clan.Fish Arising, early in the morning…Solar Music Suite …and so we set foot on the pathway, between the pillars of black and white - to put aside the fears and doubts that hold this old world down, and open up our hidden store of light within … an alchemical journey to the centre of the soul … Oh! I love it’s holy mystery! Guitars twinkle and soar, echo echo, bassoons rumble, basses thunder, drums smash all over it (all in quite an orderd/disordered way)…we’ve got to learn to use our hearts and minds…and then, approaching from the distance, come the KILLER RIFF…Steve Hillage is an unacknowledged master of these rock’n’roll beauties….the organ writhes and wriggles, seathes and sears….phew, and we’re still on the 1st track…never let the seal of love be broken, lest you act uncertainly…the answers that we sit and hope to find are swimming in our mercury…lovely delayed guitar at the end…dreamy beyond belief. Fish…woah! Underwater sounds…bubbles and…flute…polyrhythmic chaos…and we’ll get there if we can…waves of guitar heaven waft around the room…Meditation of the Snake…serpentine guitar lines writhe…(btw, Yoga is cool…psychedelia and health all rolled into one, who could ask for more. And once you’ve learned enough to do your own routine, it’s free!)Then the aforementioned Salmon Song…yipee! I love that opening riff… guided from Atlantis to the water bearer’s jar/far out/nearer in/and back to where we are/you know the way to be/you know the way to be/you know the way to beeeeeeeyeeyeeyeeyeee! You know the wayeeayeeay to be!…then we plunge underwater…basoonofish and wahguitar…then it all thunders back in, tomtoms agogo. Salty Solomon Salamander Solomon…King of the Fishes - wooh! Or something like that.<btw*> I’m a veggie and have been for more than 20 years, and I’ve read Merrick’s don’t drink milk article, which I agree with, but don’t have the strength of character to persevere with, and I know Hillage seems to glorify fishing on this album, and I know fishing is a bloodsport, and I hate bloodsports, but Hillfish seems to have a unity with the fishes…feeble excuse?? I’m not sure, but perhaps it’s all just symbols anyway…I just love the music. Isn’t Hillage a strict veggie now anyway? Can anyone fill me in on this detail?</*btw>Afterglid..finger cymbals ..Sun Moon Surfing…<*thunder*> the great wave and the boat of hermes…Moonweed excels…the Thighpaulsandra of his day! And Bloomdido Glid de Breeze wails and cries!! From the mountaintop! Gradually we slide into a whirlpool of delays and vocodered vocals…letting it a flow! …the seven open lotuses on the tree of life…as above and so below…ddddddddDDDDDDDDdakdukiddleelelem <*one of the greatest drum breaks EVER*>SLAM guitars..horns…jazz rhythms …Echo fire guitar…mitch mitchell stylee jazz rock drums…zen bop echo guitar fade…dream on...a positive vision of the futureSteve Hillfish - gitfish, fishy rythms, pierre moerlin - batterfish, dave stewart (no, not that one) orgone, pianofish, mike howlett - bassafish, lindsay cooper (yes that one) - basoonafish, moonweed - synfish, bloomdido glid de breeze - saxofish. bambaloni yoni - fish tales fish scales fish bells.If I remember rightly, the original vinyl copy had a photcopied paper insert with the lyrics and other stuff, which I have long since lost…if you have one, could you send me a scan of it?? See also Angels Egg by Gong and Happy Dog Potatohead’s review of Magick Brother by GongThe Sound of Nirvana is Delicately ShapedThe Noise of Nirvana is Absolute -- Squid Tempest, Head HeritageHillage labored for years in blissful obscurity with Gong, one of the strangest appendages of the innately bizarre body of British space-rock groups. Despite the interest of such musicians in "free jazz," a noted observer once remarked: "Whatever this stuff is -- it ain't jazz-rock." Specifically, it is psychedelic program music, inspired by mind-expansion drugs and meant to be experienced while under their influence.Which is not to say that Hillage is as solipsistic as bands that gave acid rock a bad name. Indeed, he is a virtual anachronism, retaining all the guileless optimism and joyful spontaneity that made this kind of music worth listening to in the first place. His guitar style combines Hendrix-inspired production technique with virtuoso soloing ability. -- John Swenson, RS
The second thing that I think of is the person who introduced me to this record. I have described this person in my review of Angel’s Egg by Gong. If anything, Fish Rising means more to me than Angel’s Egg, which was my first introduction to the Gong clan.
Fish Arising, early in the morning…
Solar Music Suite …and so we set foot on the pathway, between the pillars of black and white - to put aside the fears and doubts that hold this old world down, and open up our hidden store of light within … an alchemical journey to the centre of the soul … Oh! I love it’s holy mystery! Guitars twinkle and soar, echo echo, bassoons rumble, basses thunder, drums smash all over it (all in quite an orderd/disordered way)…we’ve got to learn to use our hearts and minds…
and then, approaching from the distance, come the KILLER RIFF…Steve Hillage is an unacknowledged master of these rock’n’roll beauties….the organ writhes and wriggles, seathes and sears….phew, and we’re still on the 1st track…never let the seal of love be broken, lest you act uncertainly…the answers that we sit and hope to find are swimming in our mercury…lovely delayed guitar at the end…dreamy beyond belief.
Fish…woah! Underwater sounds…bubbles and…flute…polyrhythmic chaos…and we’ll get there if we can…
waves of guitar heaven waft around the room…Meditation of the Snake…serpentine guitar lines writhe…(btw, Yoga is cool…psychedelia and health all rolled into one, who could ask for more. And once you’ve learned enough to do your own routine, it’s free!)
Then the aforementioned Salmon Song…yipee! I love that opening riff… guided from Atlantis to the water bearer’s jar/far out/nearer in/and back to where we are/you know the way to be/you know the way to be/you know the way to beeeeeeeyeeyeeyeeyeee! You know the wayeeayeeay to be!…then we plunge underwater…basoonofish and wahguitar…then it all thunders back in, tomtoms agogo. Salty Solomon Salamander Solomon…King of the Fishes - wooh! Or something like that.
<btw*> I’m a veggie and have been for more than 20 years, and I’ve read Merrick’s don’t drink milk article, which I agree with, but don’t have the strength of character to persevere with, and I know Hillage seems to glorify fishing on this album, and I know fishing is a bloodsport, and I hate bloodsports, but Hillfish seems to have a unity with the fishes…feeble excuse?? I’m not sure, but perhaps it’s all just symbols anyway…I just love the music. Isn’t Hillage a strict veggie now anyway? Can anyone fill me in on this detail?</*btw>
Afterglid..finger cymbals ..Sun Moon Surfing…<*thunder*> the great wave and the boat of hermes…Moonweed excels…the Thighpaulsandra of his day! And Bloomdido Glid de Breeze wails and cries!! From the mountaintop! Gradually we slide into a whirlpool of delays and vocodered vocals…letting it a flow! …the seven open lotuses on the tree of life…as above and so below…ddddddddDDDDDDDDdakdukiddleelelem <*one of the greatest drum breaks EVER*>SLAM guitars..horns…jazz rhythms …Echo fire guitar…mitch mitchell stylee jazz rock drums…zen bop echo guitar fade…dream on...a positive vision of the future
Steve Hillfish - gitfish, fishy rythms, pierre moerlin - batterfish, dave stewart (no, not that one) orgone, pianofish, mike howlett - bassafish, lindsay cooper (yes that one) - basoonafish, moonweed - synfish, bloomdido glid de breeze - saxofish. bambaloni yoni - fish tales fish scales fish bells.
If I remember rightly, the original vinyl copy had a photcopied paper insert with the lyrics and other stuff, which I have long since lost…if you have one, could you send me a scan of it??
See also Angels Egg by Gong and Happy Dog Potatohead’s review of Magick Brother by Gong
The Sound of Nirvana is Delicately ShapedThe Noise of Nirvana is Absolute -- Squid Tempest, Head Heritage
Hillage labored for years in blissful obscurity with Gong, one of the strangest appendages of the innately bizarre body of British space-rock groups. Despite the interest of such musicians in "free jazz," a noted observer once remarked: "Whatever this stuff is -- it ain't jazz-rock." Specifically, it is psychedelic program music, inspired by mind-expansion drugs and meant to be experienced while under their influence.Which is not to say that Hillage is as solipsistic as bands that gave acid rock a bad name. Indeed, he is a virtual anachronism, retaining all the guileless optimism and joyful spontaneity that made this kind of music worth listening to in the first place. His guitar style combines Hendrix-inspired production technique with virtuoso soloing ability. -- John Swenson, RS
review[-] by Chris NicksonAfter departing Gong in 1975, Steve Hillage followed the same route as everyone else, by making a solo album. He enlisted some Gong colleagues -- bassist Mike Howlett, saxophonist Didier Malherbe, and drummer Pierre Moerlen -- and augmented them with others from his Canterbury past, keyboard player Dave Stewart (the two had played together at the beginning of the decade) and Henry Cow's Lindsay Cooper. The result, apart from revealing a slightly unhealthy obsession with fish (at least a change from Gong's pothead pixies) is a Canterbury musical delight, even if the lyrics are chock-full of hippie-dippy sentiment. There are plenty of complex time changes, easily and smoothly handled by the musicians, and while Hillage doesn't contribute as many solos as admirers of his style might wish, he does use layers of guitar to create some wonderful textures and harmonies. This is, in fact, a very sophisticated record, with interesting arrangements and some innovative production -- a harbinger of Hillage's future career behind the boards. On the few occasions he does unleash the fretwork, it's quite glorious, with his trademark echo letting the notes trail like a comet's tail. He doesn't need to prove he's the fast gun in town, simply one with plenty of invention. The real emphasis is on band arrangements and those multi-part compositions that were an indelible part of the prog '70s (as in the pretentiously titled "Solar Musick Suite"). However, pomposity is carefully avoided, and the musicians bring enough of their own personalities to the party, especially Malherbe. As a solo debut it's a success, taking the qualities of Hillage's previous gigs on board, but making the final product his own. It might be fishy, but it certainly doesn't stink.
After departing Gong in 1975, Steve Hillage followed the same route as everyone else, by making a solo album. He enlisted some Gong colleagues -- bassist Mike Howlett, saxophonist Didier Malherbe, and drummer Pierre Moerlen -- and augmented them with others from his Canterbury past, keyboard player Dave Stewart (the two had played together at the beginning of the decade) and Henry Cow's Lindsay Cooper. The result, apart from revealing a slightly unhealthy obsession with fish (at least a change from Gong's pothead pixies) is a Canterbury musical delight, even if the lyrics are chock-full of hippie-dippy sentiment. There are plenty of complex time changes, easily and smoothly handled by the musicians, and while Hillage doesn't contribute as many solos as admirers of his style might wish, he does use layers of guitar to create some wonderful textures and harmonies. This is, in fact, a very sophisticated record, with interesting arrangements and some innovative production -- a harbinger of Hillage's future career behind the boards. On the few occasions he does unleash the fretwork, it's quite glorious, with his trademark echo letting the notes trail like a comet's tail. He doesn't need to prove he's the fast gun in town, simply one with plenty of invention. The real emphasis is on band arrangements and those multi-part compositions that were an indelible part of the prog '70s (as in the pretentiously titled "Solar Musick Suite"). However, pomposity is carefully avoided, and the musicians bring enough of their own personalities to the party, especially Malherbe. As a solo debut it's a success, taking the qualities of Hillage's previous gigs on board, but making the final product his own. It might be fishy, but it certainly doesn't stink.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:45 (thirteen years ago)
never even heard of that, and I don't think I've ever heard any Hillage solo records. Worth checking out?
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:46 (thirteen years ago)
Oh yes. It's a brilliant album; I voted for it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 18:56 (thirteen years ago)
131. OHIO PLAYERS Pleasure (1743 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #630 for 1973http://acerecords.co.uk/images/TheOhioPlayersPleasu.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/0pjdMHnNImJLPweq4wzeNDspotify:album:0pjdMHnNImJLPweq4wzeND
review[-] by Alex HendersonWhen the Ohio Players recorded their second Westbound album, Pleasure, in 1972, they weren't as big as they would be from 1974-1976. But their popularity was growing -- slowly but surely -- and those who were hip to the band recognized it as one of the most cutting-edge acts in the funk field. A lot of bands were providing funk in 1972, but not many of them used jazz progressions as creatively as the Players use them on "Laid It," "Walked Away From You," and Pleasure's title song. Those tracks are gems, and the Players are equally captivating on the sweet soul ballad "Varee Is Love." But the best known tune on the album is the goofy "Funky Worm," which employed the Players' amusing Granny character and was, in 1972, their biggest hit to date. Long after the band's popularity faded, "Funky Worm" would live on in the 1980s and 1990s thanks to the various hip-hoppers who sampled its irresistible bassline. Like Pain in 1971, Pleasure had a kinky cover that generated some controversy -- the same bald woman who brandished a bullwhip and wore dominatrix attire on the front cover of Pain was chained up on the cover of Pleasure. Some folks found the Players' kinky LP covers intriguing, while others were shocked and offended. And the Players, having struggled in the 1960s, were happy to be noticed. But ultimately, it is the quality of the music -- not the bondage-minded cover -- that makes Pleasure a funk classic.
When the Ohio Players recorded their second Westbound album, Pleasure, in 1972, they weren't as big as they would be from 1974-1976. But their popularity was growing -- slowly but surely -- and those who were hip to the band recognized it as one of the most cutting-edge acts in the funk field. A lot of bands were providing funk in 1972, but not many of them used jazz progressions as creatively as the Players use them on "Laid It," "Walked Away From You," and Pleasure's title song. Those tracks are gems, and the Players are equally captivating on the sweet soul ballad "Varee Is Love." But the best known tune on the album is the goofy "Funky Worm," which employed the Players' amusing Granny character and was, in 1972, their biggest hit to date. Long after the band's popularity faded, "Funky Worm" would live on in the 1980s and 1990s thanks to the various hip-hoppers who sampled its irresistible bassline. Like Pain in 1971, Pleasure had a kinky cover that generated some controversy -- the same bald woman who brandished a bullwhip and wore dominatrix attire on the front cover of Pain was chained up on the cover of Pleasure. Some folks found the Players' kinky LP covers intriguing, while others were shocked and offended. And the Players, having struggled in the 1960s, were happy to be noticed. But ultimately, it is the quality of the music -- not the bondage-minded cover -- that makes Pleasure a funk classic.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:00 (thirteen years ago)
I heard it last night for the first time, and it's pretty good! Couldn't focus on it enough to say anything in detail though.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:01 (thirteen years ago)
Far too low!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:01 (thirteen years ago)
wow you all really went nuts with the Ohio Players
― wk, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:04 (thirteen years ago)
130. PARLIAMENT Funkentelechy Vs. the Placebo Syndrome (1747 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #27 for 1977 , #879 overall | Acclaimed: #1477http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CpHsllV0t-c/TxLQQKWjUUI/AAAAAAAAApQ/_aARnCuHNfE/s1600/Parliament+%25281977%2529+-+Funkentelechy+Vs.+The+Placebo+Syndrome+%2528A%2529.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5zWUM9rsio6pXFl951nCAJspotify:album:5zWUM9rsio6pXFl951nCAJ
This seems like your representative 'delicment LP at first, featuring one irresistible and quite eccentric dance cut, other dance cuts that are at moments even more eccentric (including one based on nursery rhymes), bits of inspired jive, bits of plain jive, and an anomalous slow one. But with familiarity the three rhythm hooks that anchor the album start sounding definitive. And never before has George Clinton dealt so coherently with his familiar message, in which the forces of life--autonomous intelligence, a childlike openness, sexual energy, and humor--defeat those of death: by seduction if possible, by force if necessary. A -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Ned RaggettParliament simply poured it on for this amazing album, clearly one of its all-time best. At least one band named itself after a lyric -- Urge Overkill, taken from the song "Funkentelechy" itself -- while the amount of times this album has been sampled for the music is uncountable. Besides having an absolutely wonderful name, it contained at least three of the finest Parliament tunes ever, including arguably its signature song. "Flash Light," which closes Funkentelechy on a riotous high, has it all -- a brilliant fake ending, instant singalong value, a synth-bassline to kill for from Bernie Worrell, and so much more. As the album ends, so too does it begin, with a stone-cold classic -- "Bop Gun (Endangered Species)." Starting with a brisk little guitar figure and beat, it turns into an instant party on all fronts, with great lead vocals and an addictive chorus, the Horny Horns and company hitting the grooves and blasting hard. Worrell's laser noises and shimmering keyboard leads and Cordell Mosson's monster bass squelches send everything all that much more over the top. Another song title says it all -- "Sir Nose D'Voidoffunk (Pay Attention -- B3M)." Treated with vocoders to an absurd degree, Sir Nose became the legendary enemy of funk, specifically the Starchild, on many a P-Funk recording (that's the two of them on the hilarious cover, the Starchild himself operating the Bop Gun). The throwaway lines in this song are almost legendary in and of themselves, while the music itself is a great slow build and burn rhythm that piles more on as it goes, with singers, horns, and more taking it to a climax. "Funkentelechy" and "The Placebo Syndrome" both have plenty of goodness as well, while "Wizards of Finance" is an amusing retro diversion, helping make Funkentelechy the highlight it is.
Parliament simply poured it on for this amazing album, clearly one of its all-time best. At least one band named itself after a lyric -- Urge Overkill, taken from the song "Funkentelechy" itself -- while the amount of times this album has been sampled for the music is uncountable. Besides having an absolutely wonderful name, it contained at least three of the finest Parliament tunes ever, including arguably its signature song. "Flash Light," which closes Funkentelechy on a riotous high, has it all -- a brilliant fake ending, instant singalong value, a synth-bassline to kill for from Bernie Worrell, and so much more. As the album ends, so too does it begin, with a stone-cold classic -- "Bop Gun (Endangered Species)." Starting with a brisk little guitar figure and beat, it turns into an instant party on all fronts, with great lead vocals and an addictive chorus, the Horny Horns and company hitting the grooves and blasting hard. Worrell's laser noises and shimmering keyboard leads and Cordell Mosson's monster bass squelches send everything all that much more over the top. Another song title says it all -- "Sir Nose D'Voidoffunk (Pay Attention -- B3M)." Treated with vocoders to an absurd degree, Sir Nose became the legendary enemy of funk, specifically the Starchild, on many a P-Funk recording (that's the two of them on the hilarious cover, the Starchild himself operating the Bop Gun). The throwaway lines in this song are almost legendary in and of themselves, while the music itself is a great slow build and burn rhythm that piles more on as it goes, with singers, horns, and more taking it to a climax. "Funkentelechy" and "The Placebo Syndrome" both have plenty of goodness as well, while "Wizards of Finance" is an amusing retro diversion, helping make Funkentelechy the highlight it is.
Track Listing:Bop Gun (Endangered Species) {G Clinton, Garry Shider, W Collins} 8:29 lyricsSir Nose D'Voidoffunk (Pay Attention) {G Clinton, B Worrell, W Collins} 10:04 lyricsWizard of Finance {G Clinton, Ron Ford, Glen Goins} 4:23 lyricsFunkentelechy {G Clinton, W Collins} 10:56 lyricsThe Placebo Syndrome {G Clinton, Billy Nelson} 4:20 lyricsFlash Light {G Clinton, B Worrell, W Collins} 5:46 lyricsPersonnel ("The Clones of Dr. Funkenstein"):Vocals: George Clinton, Ray Davis, Glenn Goins, Garry Shider, Debbie Wright, Jeanette Washington, Lynn Mabry, Dawn Silva, Cordell MossonKeyboards & Synthesizers: Bernie WorrellGuitars: Michael Hampton, Glenn Goins, Garry Shider, Catfish Collins on "Flash Light"Bass: Cordell MossonDrums & Percussion: Jerome Brailey, Bootsy Collins Horns: Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker, Rick Gardner, Richard Griffith, Clay Lawrey, Darryl Dixon, Valerie Drayton, Danny Cortez "Bop Gun"Lead Vocal: Glen GoinsBackground Vocals: Lynn Mabry, Dawn SilvaBass: Bootsy Collins "Sir Nose"Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Ray DavisBass: Bootsy Collins "Wizard Of Finance"Lead Vocals: George Clinton "Funkentelechy"Lead Vocal: George ClintonBass: Bootsy Collins "Placebo Syndrome"Bass: Billy Nelson "Flash Light"Lead Vocal: George ClintonSax Solo: Darryl DixonBass Synth, Synth: Bernie WorrellGuitar: Catfish CollinsDrums: Bootsy CollinsRating: GZ ***** RC ***** MM *****Comments:GZ: Highlights include "Flash Light." Absolutely essential.TK: Jerome Brailey said that "Funkentelechy" was the first song he cut with the Mob back in 1975. Contrary to album credits, Bootsy is the only bass player on this album, with the exception of "Placebo Syndrome" (Billy Bass) and possible "Wizard Of Finance" (Boogie). Of course, Bernie does bass synth for "Flash Light". The album credits mainly serve to identify the touring entourage.RC: This is the seminal Parliament concept album, and the most politically ambitious. Clinton combines gotta-dance jams with clever and subtle satire, poking fun at complacency and the consumer society. "Flash Light" is a philosophical and musical orgasm. Clinton dips deep into pop culture, using nursery rhyme ("Baa Baa Black Sheep" and "Three Blind Mice") and cartoon ("I hate those meeces to pieces") references in "Sir Nose" (combined with the Looney Toons horn riff). He also refers to various commercials ("You deserve a break today") and game shows ("Would you trade your funk for what's behind the third door?") in "Funkentelechy." The album introduces the Sir Nose character, a catch-all for unfunkiness, fakeness and hypocrisy. Clinton also took shots at disco, which he called the Placebo Syndrome.The album starts off in grand style with one of Parliament's most engaging guitar riffs, interlocking perfectly with the ultra-solid bass playing of Cordell 'Boogie' Mosson, the unsung hero of this album. By this time, most of the original Parliament singers had left, pushing lead vocalists Shider & Goins even further into the spotlight. Female background vocalists were being used more and, and these soulful ladies were a big part in producing the beautiful high-end harmonies that contrasted well with the low-end nastiness. "Bop Gun" stars Glen Goins, telling us about the weapon that will protect us against the Syndrome; call on the funk and dance, and you can defeat the forces of death. Funk is a force for life, for freedom, for total free expression. The song does perhaps go on a bit too long, but the groove is so solid that you don't even care. "Sir Nose" is another of the most important of Parliament's creations, introducing us to the enemy of funk and life who could be you, if you're not careful. He brings the syndrome, and is too cool to dance. Cool = stasis here, taking away freedom. This is one of Clinton's best vocal performances, reprising his role as Starchild, archenemy of the Nose. While teasing Sir Nose playfully, the choruses mutate nursery rhymes into hilarious drug references (`Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?/Yes sir, yes sir, nickel bag full!` and `They all ran after the farmer's wife/Turned on the fun with the water pipe`). Musically, the bass groove on this song is unmatched by any other. "Wizard Of Finance" is a more traditional vocal showpiece, with upfront horn leads. The lyrics are clever, comparing finding love to trading on Wall Street. "Funkentelechy" is a monstrous cut, featuring some of Clinton's most cutting and witty lyrics, talking about how those in control pimp people's search for pleasure in order to control them. "Funk is not domestically produced", it can't be bought, it can't be sold, it can't be commodified. Funk = free will, freedom, intelligence. Clinton brings in game show and commercial imagery, showing the essential shallowness of the consumer society. Funk is a way to deprogram us from that conditioning. The track also happens to feature more great bass line, a funky guitar riff, and a complex but tasty horn arrangement. "Placebo Syndrome" details how someone can be led into the Syndrome, by taking life for granted. Musically, it's far less interesting than the other tracks, though the horn work stands out in places. The capper was Parliament's first #1 hit, and deservedly so. "Flash Light" is one of the all-time great dance songs, but that only begins to describe its brilliance. It starts with the solid but unobtrusive drumming of Bootsy, allowing the other instruments to stand out. It's anchored by the shining guitar riff of Catfish Collins, one of the greatest examples of rhythm guitar ever. And it stars Bernie Worrell, who propels the song with an addictive bass-keyboard line while keeping us engaged on the high end with tasty synth explorations. The song on the surface sounds like a simple chant song, but one can hear the battle being raged between life and death here...can Starchild make Sir Nose dance? As depicted on the album cover, he shoots the Bop Gun at him, and Sir Nose must yield. `There's nothing that the proper attitude won't render funkable`, and so it happens. Openness overcomes fear, as `everyone's got a little light under the sun.` And the `ha-da-da-dee-da da-da hava da da`, (based on a Jewish Bar Mitvah chant) is one of their most engaging chants.This album seriously challenges Mothership Connection as P.Funk's best overall album, taking previously established ideas to new and exciting levels. It proves that it is possible to create something popular that is still challenging, exciting and revelatory, both on the lyrical and musical levels. Try and find it on vinyl, because it included a comic book detailing Starchild's battle with Sir Nose done by Overton Lloyd, as well as a huge poster.MM: "Flash Light", "Sir Nose", and "Funkentelechy" are fabulous. "Bop Gun" is only above average IMO.MW: "Flash Light" was originally recorded for Bootsy's Rubber Band's first album. Bootsy didn't like it and gave it to George. Due to the song's success, fans would bring flashlights to the concerts. After a while, P. Funk sold their own brand of flashlight at their shows and would sell up to 3,000 a night.
Bop Gun (Endangered Species) {G Clinton, Garry Shider, W Collins} 8:29 lyricsSir Nose D'Voidoffunk (Pay Attention) {G Clinton, B Worrell, W Collins} 10:04 lyricsWizard of Finance {G Clinton, Ron Ford, Glen Goins} 4:23 lyricsFunkentelechy {G Clinton, W Collins} 10:56 lyricsThe Placebo Syndrome {G Clinton, Billy Nelson} 4:20 lyricsFlash Light {G Clinton, B Worrell, W Collins} 5:46 lyrics
Personnel ("The Clones of Dr. Funkenstein"):
Vocals: George Clinton, Ray Davis, Glenn Goins, Garry Shider, Debbie Wright, Jeanette Washington, Lynn Mabry, Dawn Silva, Cordell MossonKeyboards & Synthesizers: Bernie WorrellGuitars: Michael Hampton, Glenn Goins, Garry Shider, Catfish Collins on "Flash Light"Bass: Cordell MossonDrums & Percussion: Jerome Brailey, Bootsy Collins Horns: Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker, Rick Gardner, Richard Griffith, Clay Lawrey, Darryl Dixon, Valerie Drayton, Danny Cortez
"Bop Gun"Lead Vocal: Glen GoinsBackground Vocals: Lynn Mabry, Dawn SilvaBass: Bootsy Collins
"Sir Nose"Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Ray DavisBass: Bootsy Collins
"Wizard Of Finance"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
"Funkentelechy"Lead Vocal: George ClintonBass: Bootsy Collins
"Placebo Syndrome"Bass: Billy Nelson
"Flash Light"Lead Vocal: George ClintonSax Solo: Darryl DixonBass Synth, Synth: Bernie WorrellGuitar: Catfish CollinsDrums: Bootsy Collins
Rating: GZ ***** RC ***** MM *****
GZ: Highlights include "Flash Light." Absolutely essential.
TK: Jerome Brailey said that "Funkentelechy" was the first song he cut with the Mob back in 1975. Contrary to album credits, Bootsy is the only bass player on this album, with the exception of "Placebo Syndrome" (Billy Bass) and possible "Wizard Of Finance" (Boogie). Of course, Bernie does bass synth for "Flash Light". The album credits mainly serve to identify the touring entourage.
RC: This is the seminal Parliament concept album, and the most politically ambitious. Clinton combines gotta-dance jams with clever and subtle satire, poking fun at complacency and the consumer society. "Flash Light" is a philosophical and musical orgasm. Clinton dips deep into pop culture, using nursery rhyme ("Baa Baa Black Sheep" and "Three Blind Mice") and cartoon ("I hate those meeces to pieces") references in "Sir Nose" (combined with the Looney Toons horn riff). He also refers to various commercials ("You deserve a break today") and game shows ("Would you trade your funk for what's behind the third door?") in "Funkentelechy." The album introduces the Sir Nose character, a catch-all for unfunkiness, fakeness and hypocrisy. Clinton also took shots at disco, which he called the Placebo Syndrome.
The album starts off in grand style with one of Parliament's most engaging guitar riffs, interlocking perfectly with the ultra-solid bass playing of Cordell 'Boogie' Mosson, the unsung hero of this album. By this time, most of the original Parliament singers had left, pushing lead vocalists Shider & Goins even further into the spotlight. Female background vocalists were being used more and, and these soulful ladies were a big part in producing the beautiful high-end harmonies that contrasted well with the low-end nastiness. "Bop Gun" stars Glen Goins, telling us about the weapon that will protect us against the Syndrome; call on the funk and dance, and you can defeat the forces of death. Funk is a force for life, for freedom, for total free expression. The song does perhaps go on a bit too long, but the groove is so solid that you don't even care. "Sir Nose" is another of the most important of Parliament's creations, introducing us to the enemy of funk and life who could be you, if you're not careful. He brings the syndrome, and is too cool to dance. Cool = stasis here, taking away freedom. This is one of Clinton's best vocal performances, reprising his role as Starchild, archenemy of the Nose. While teasing Sir Nose playfully, the choruses mutate nursery rhymes into hilarious drug references (`Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?/Yes sir, yes sir, nickel bag full!` and `They all ran after the farmer's wife/Turned on the fun with the water pipe`). Musically, the bass groove on this song is unmatched by any other. "Wizard Of Finance" is a more traditional vocal showpiece, with upfront horn leads. The lyrics are clever, comparing finding love to trading on Wall Street. "Funkentelechy" is a monstrous cut, featuring some of Clinton's most cutting and witty lyrics, talking about how those in control pimp people's search for pleasure in order to control them. "Funk is not domestically produced", it can't be bought, it can't be sold, it can't be commodified. Funk = free will, freedom, intelligence. Clinton brings in game show and commercial imagery, showing the essential shallowness of the consumer society. Funk is a way to deprogram us from that conditioning. The track also happens to feature more great bass line, a funky guitar riff, and a complex but tasty horn arrangement. "Placebo Syndrome" details how someone can be led into the Syndrome, by taking life for granted. Musically, it's far less interesting than the other tracks, though the horn work stands out in places. The capper was Parliament's first #1 hit, and deservedly so. "Flash Light" is one of the all-time great dance songs, but that only begins to describe its brilliance. It starts with the solid but unobtrusive drumming of Bootsy, allowing the other instruments to stand out. It's anchored by the shining guitar riff of Catfish Collins, one of the greatest examples of rhythm guitar ever. And it stars Bernie Worrell, who propels the song with an addictive bass-keyboard line while keeping us engaged on the high end with tasty synth explorations. The song on the surface sounds like a simple chant song, but one can hear the battle being raged between life and death here...can Starchild make Sir Nose dance? As depicted on the album cover, he shoots the Bop Gun at him, and Sir Nose must yield. `There's nothing that the proper attitude won't render funkable`, and so it happens. Openness overcomes fear, as `everyone's got a little light under the sun.` And the `ha-da-da-dee-da da-da hava da da`, (based on a Jewish Bar Mitvah chant) is one of their most engaging chants.
This album seriously challenges Mothership Connection as P.Funk's best overall album, taking previously established ideas to new and exciting levels. It proves that it is possible to create something popular that is still challenging, exciting and revelatory, both on the lyrical and musical levels. Try and find it on vinyl, because it included a comic book detailing Starchild's battle with Sir Nose done by Overton Lloyd, as well as a huge poster.
MM: "Flash Light", "Sir Nose", and "Funkentelechy" are fabulous. "Bop Gun" is only above average IMO.
MW: "Flash Light" was originally recorded for Bootsy's Rubber Band's first album. Bootsy didn't like it and gave it to George. Due to the song's success, fans would bring flashlights to the concerts. After a while, P. Funk sold their own brand of flashlight at their shows and would sell up to 3,000 a night.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:15 (thirteen years ago)
My fave Parliament album.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:18 (thirteen years ago)
129. GILA Gila/Free Electric Sound (1748 Points, 13 Votes)RYM: #197 for 1971http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cBAw5zbzpqU/TopKBpgCzmI/AAAAAAAAAfE/fjfdqoP12pI/s1600/Front.jpg
If you dig: Pink Floyd, Space Rock, Krautrock, Folk Rock, Acid Rock. Gila, which is also called Free Electric Sound, was released in August and is one of the finest albums ever to be labeled Krautrock. The concept of the album was to show the band's transition from aggression to communication in its two years of existence. The tracks are mostly instrumental, interlacing one another and feature some wicked Acid guitar freak-outs by Veit, spacey organ and mellotron, exotic tempos and electronic effect seeking to fully realize the band's psychedelic vision. Loved it? Try: Popol Vuh, Agitation Free, Guru Guru, Paternoster. -- R. ChelledBy 1971, with the shortened name Gila, they recorded one of the finest cosmic classics of Pink Floyd inspired space-rock. GILA (sometimes quoted as "FREE ELECTRIC SOUND") is a mainly instrumental trip and feels much like one suite per LP side. Superbly conceived, it featured an amazingly innovative music that took hints from all the classic Pink Floyd inventions, and went further, blending in ethnic textures with the complex multi-guitars of Conny Veit, stunning keyboards and electronics, and superb percussive-fired space drives, all with that uniquely "Kosmische" aura of trippy space-echo. Naturally, it's widely regarded as one of the finest Krautrock albums. -- Cosmic Egg
By 1971, with the shortened name Gila, they recorded one of the finest cosmic classics of Pink Floyd inspired space-rock. GILA (sometimes quoted as "FREE ELECTRIC SOUND") is a mainly instrumental trip and feels much like one suite per LP side. Superbly conceived, it featured an amazingly innovative music that took hints from all the classic Pink Floyd inventions, and went further, blending in ethnic textures with the complex multi-guitars of Conny Veit, stunning keyboards and electronics, and superb percussive-fired space drives, all with that uniquely "Kosmische" aura of trippy space-echo. Naturally, it's widely regarded as one of the finest Krautrock albums. -- Cosmic Egg
reviewby Rolf SemprebonOften referred by the title Free Electric Sound, Gila's debut is an amazing work, full of acid guitar freakouts, spacy organ and mellotron, exotic rhythm structures, and loads of electronic effects to fully realize the psychedelic visions. From the Floyd-ian space rock of the first two tracks the record moves into even stranger realms on the four segued pieces that make up the second side of the original vinyl. "Kollaps" starts off with ritualistic drumming, a creepy organ riff, a crying baby, and guitar licks that threaten to explode at any moment. After some electronic effects "Kontakt" goes in an entirely different direction with airy acoustic guitar and keyboards and no rhythm section, like suddenly emerging into sunlight after the darkness of "Kollaps." As the track progresses seamlessly into "Kollektivivtat" and then "Individualitat" it again picks up momentum, adding electric guitar riffs and an interesting mixture of bongos and snares as the organ cuts loose, until finally everything dies except the thundering percussions on some quasi-ethnic workout with some electronic sounds thrown in.
Often referred by the title Free Electric Sound, Gila's debut is an amazing work, full of acid guitar freakouts, spacy organ and mellotron, exotic rhythm structures, and loads of electronic effects to fully realize the psychedelic visions. From the Floyd-ian space rock of the first two tracks the record moves into even stranger realms on the four segued pieces that make up the second side of the original vinyl. "Kollaps" starts off with ritualistic drumming, a creepy organ riff, a crying baby, and guitar licks that threaten to explode at any moment. After some electronic effects "Kontakt" goes in an entirely different direction with airy acoustic guitar and keyboards and no rhythm section, like suddenly emerging into sunlight after the darkness of "Kollaps." As the track progresses seamlessly into "Kollektivivtat" and then "Individualitat" it again picks up momentum, adding electric guitar riffs and an interesting mixture of bongos and snares as the organ cuts loose, until finally everything dies except the thundering percussions on some quasi-ethnic workout with some electronic sounds thrown in.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:30 (thirteen years ago)
my have too. thought it would poll higher.
― stirmonster, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:33 (thirteen years ago)
my fave too. thought it would poll higher.
― stirmonster, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:34 (thirteen years ago)
One for the lurking goths next
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:42 (thirteen years ago)
128. SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES The Scream (1785 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #107 for 1978 , #4880 overall | Acclaimed: #903http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/042/MI0000042646.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/1Xi4oJP21fSeudrYdFI71nspotify:album:1Xi4oJP21fSeudrYdFI71n
Hippies were rainbow extremists; punks are romantics of black-and-white. Hippies forced warmth; punks cultivate cool. Hippies kidded themselves about free love; punks pretend that s&m is our condition. As symbols of protest, swastikas are no less fatuous than flowers. So it's not surprising that Siouxsie Sioux, punks' exemplary fan-turned-artist, should prove every bit as pretentious as model-turned-rocker Grace Slick or film-student manqué Jim Morrison. Nor is it surprising that while the spirit is still upon her she should come up with a tunefully atonal, modestly sensationalistic album. B+ -- R. ChristgauThe Scream capsulized the first-generation sound of the Banshees: Siouxsie's icy, sometimes tuneless wail swooping over the metal-shard roar of John McKay's guitar and the brutish rhythms of bassist Severin and drummer Kenny Morris. The songs are relentlessly grim, albeit often sardonic (as in "Carcass" and a version of the Beatles' "Helter Skelter"). In a bit of artistic tampering, the American label included the almost upbeat "Hong Kong Garden" (a pre-LP 45 that punched its way into the UK Top 10), beginning the album with an unintended stylistic departure. -- Trouser PressOn their spare but striking debut album, England's Siouxsie and the Banshees deftly meld the edgy, death-rattle guitar and walloping drums of the best post-punk bands with the soaring vocals and shivery power chords of the oft-maligned early Jefferson Airplane. The Scream's sound, stark though fully realized (thanks partly to a most simpatico co-producer, Steve Lillywhite), is lent added intellectual dimension by a series of disturbingly ambiguous lyrical images that, in the best songs, can actually give one the willies."Carcass," for example, is a grisly tale of meat-locker love that obliquely depicts women as the eternal victims of romance: "Be a carcass—Be a dead pork/Be limblessly in love." Equally tender is the schizy lament of "Suburban Relapse": "I'm sorry that I hit you/But my string snapped/ ... But whilst finishing a chore/I asked myself 'what for.'" Even the delightfully pop six-string chinoiserie of "Hong Kong Garden," the group's British hit single, is belied by an icy martial beat and artfully jumbled lyrics that mix glimpses of an Oriental takeout joint ("Leave your yens on the counter please") with disquieting references to the ongoing slaughter in Southeast Asia.Throughout, lead singer Siouxsie-Sioux sounds thrillingly like a young Grace Slick, especially in the resounding "Mirage" (with atmospheric sax moans by guitarist John McKay) and the devastating metallic roar of "Jigsaw Feeling." And in the band's only cover, a searing revision of "Helter Skelter," when Siouxsie wails, "You may be a lover but you ain't no fuckin' dancer," the charm of the Beatles' dance-floor repartee suddenly seems long ago and very far away.Siouxsie and the Banshees were the artiest of the New Wave groups that emerged in 1976 out of the roiling rock & roll scene that centered on London's 100 Club, which also spawned the Clash, the Damned and the Sex Pistols (to whom the Banshees contributed their original drummer, Sid Vicious). Now, several months after The Scream was released to critical acclaim in Europe, with the Pistols flamed out, the Damned a marginal joke and the Clash still struggling for a foothold in America, Siouxsie and the Banshees are finally getting a shot at the U.S. market. Their vehicle is a record that acknowledges the enduring power of the Old Wave, but yields not an inch in its assertion of the New. -- Kurt Loder, RS
The Scream capsulized the first-generation sound of the Banshees: Siouxsie's icy, sometimes tuneless wail swooping over the metal-shard roar of John McKay's guitar and the brutish rhythms of bassist Severin and drummer Kenny Morris. The songs are relentlessly grim, albeit often sardonic (as in "Carcass" and a version of the Beatles' "Helter Skelter"). In a bit of artistic tampering, the American label included the almost upbeat "Hong Kong Garden" (a pre-LP 45 that punched its way into the UK Top 10), beginning the album with an unintended stylistic departure. -- Trouser Press
On their spare but striking debut album, England's Siouxsie and the Banshees deftly meld the edgy, death-rattle guitar and walloping drums of the best post-punk bands with the soaring vocals and shivery power chords of the oft-maligned early Jefferson Airplane. The Scream's sound, stark though fully realized (thanks partly to a most simpatico co-producer, Steve Lillywhite), is lent added intellectual dimension by a series of disturbingly ambiguous lyrical images that, in the best songs, can actually give one the willies.
"Carcass," for example, is a grisly tale of meat-locker love that obliquely depicts women as the eternal victims of romance: "Be a carcass—Be a dead pork/Be limblessly in love." Equally tender is the schizy lament of "Suburban Relapse": "I'm sorry that I hit you/But my string snapped/ ... But whilst finishing a chore/I asked myself 'what for.'" Even the delightfully pop six-string chinoiserie of "Hong Kong Garden," the group's British hit single, is belied by an icy martial beat and artfully jumbled lyrics that mix glimpses of an Oriental takeout joint ("Leave your yens on the counter please") with disquieting references to the ongoing slaughter in Southeast Asia.
Throughout, lead singer Siouxsie-Sioux sounds thrillingly like a young Grace Slick, especially in the resounding "Mirage" (with atmospheric sax moans by guitarist John McKay) and the devastating metallic roar of "Jigsaw Feeling." And in the band's only cover, a searing revision of "Helter Skelter," when Siouxsie wails, "You may be a lover but you ain't no fuckin' dancer," the charm of the Beatles' dance-floor repartee suddenly seems long ago and very far away.
Siouxsie and the Banshees were the artiest of the New Wave groups that emerged in 1976 out of the roiling rock & roll scene that centered on London's 100 Club, which also spawned the Clash, the Damned and the Sex Pistols (to whom the Banshees contributed their original drummer, Sid Vicious). Now, several months after The Scream was released to critical acclaim in Europe, with the Pistols flamed out, the Damned a marginal joke and the Clash still struggling for a foothold in America, Siouxsie and the Banshees are finally getting a shot at the U.S. market. Their vehicle is a record that acknowledges the enduring power of the Old Wave, but yields not an inch in its assertion of the New. -- Kurt Loder, RS
review[-] by Ned 'Batcave' RaggettAfter building up an intense live reputation and a rabid fan base, Siouxsie and the Banshees almost had to debut with a stunner -- which they did, "Hong Kong Garden" taking care of things on the singles front and The Scream on the full-length. Matched with a downright creepy cover and a fair enough early producing effort from Steve Lillywhite -- well before he found gated drum sounds -- it's a fine balance of the early band's talents. Siouxsie Sioux herself shows the distinct, commanding voice and lyrical meditations on fractured lives and situations that would win her well-deserved attention over the years. Compared to the unfocused general subject matter of most of the band's peers, songs like "Jigsaw Feeling," "Suburban Relapse," and especially the barbed contempt of "Mirage" are perfect miniature portraits. John McKay's metallic (but not metal) guitar parts, riffs that never quite resolve into conventional melodies, and the throbbing Steven Severin/Kenny Morris rhythm section distill the Velvet Underground's early propulsion into a crisper punch with more than a hint of glam's tribal rumble. The sheer variety on the album alone is impressive -- "Overground" and its slow-rising build, carefully emphasizing space in between McKay's notes as much as the notes themselves, the death-march Teutonic stomp of "Metal Postcard," the sudden near-sunniness of the music (down to the handclaps!) toward the end of "Carcass." The cover of "Helter Skelter" makes for an unexpected nod to the past -- if it's not as completely overdriven as the original, Siouxsie puts her own definite stamp on it and its sudden conclusion is a great moment of drama. It's the concluding "Switch" that fully demonstrates just how solid the band was then, with McKay's saxophone adding just enough of a droning wild card to the multi-part theatricality of the piece, Siouxsie in particularly fine voice on top of it all.
After building up an intense live reputation and a rabid fan base, Siouxsie and the Banshees almost had to debut with a stunner -- which they did, "Hong Kong Garden" taking care of things on the singles front and The Scream on the full-length. Matched with a downright creepy cover and a fair enough early producing effort from Steve Lillywhite -- well before he found gated drum sounds -- it's a fine balance of the early band's talents. Siouxsie Sioux herself shows the distinct, commanding voice and lyrical meditations on fractured lives and situations that would win her well-deserved attention over the years. Compared to the unfocused general subject matter of most of the band's peers, songs like "Jigsaw Feeling," "Suburban Relapse," and especially the barbed contempt of "Mirage" are perfect miniature portraits. John McKay's metallic (but not metal) guitar parts, riffs that never quite resolve into conventional melodies, and the throbbing Steven Severin/Kenny Morris rhythm section distill the Velvet Underground's early propulsion into a crisper punch with more than a hint of glam's tribal rumble. The sheer variety on the album alone is impressive -- "Overground" and its slow-rising build, carefully emphasizing space in between McKay's notes as much as the notes themselves, the death-march Teutonic stomp of "Metal Postcard," the sudden near-sunniness of the music (down to the handclaps!) toward the end of "Carcass." The cover of "Helter Skelter" makes for an unexpected nod to the past -- if it's not as completely overdriven as the original, Siouxsie puts her own definite stamp on it and its sudden conclusion is a great moment of drama. It's the concluding "Switch" that fully demonstrates just how solid the band was then, with McKay's saxophone adding just enough of a droning wild card to the multi-part theatricality of the piece, Siouxsie in particularly fine voice on top of it all.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:45 (thirteen years ago)
goths do enjoy to lurk, it's true
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:47 (thirteen years ago)
Is there a Goth poll in the queue for the artists polls?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:50 (thirteen years ago)
that would be enjoyably silly
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:56 (thirteen years ago)
you should volunteer to do it
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:58 (thirteen years ago)
hah my goth knowledge is pretty superficial, and I actively dislike some of the big goth bands (e.g. Siouxsie)
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 19:59 (thirteen years ago)
one of those facts may be related to the other of course
dont know much about it myself but i think it would be a fun poll. It should be done for the late Bimble more than anything
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:00 (thirteen years ago)
127. NEU! - 2 (1789 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #204 for 1973 | Acclaimed: #2700http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_X6dmVhISn-I/TRGdww_BMQI/AAAAAAAAAas/kXX21cJxnWc/s1600/Neu%2521%2B2%2B002.pnghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6mImdwFRUfbUctFhsnsKmSspotify:album:6mImdwFRUfbUctFhsnsKmS
review[-] by Thom JurekAfter the considerable success of their self-titled debut album, Klaus Dinger and Michael Rother set out ambitiously to record a follow-up. Virtually everything went wrong. The first of the artistic and personal differences that existed between them not only began to surface, but to flourish in the face of a nearly impossible studio deadline and overly tight budget. While the basic Neu! sound was not an issue, how to augment it was. As both a guitarist and a composer, Rother had already begun moving in the direction he would end up in with Moebius and Rodelius in Harmonia, and on his later solo recordings: a more unified, melodic, airy, and soaring sound that was full of light and yearning. Dinger, on the other hand, was looking for more anarchy, more chaos, and rock & roll dynamics. He wanted a music that was as dramatic and confrontational as he was. It's amazing this album turned out as well as it did. On top of all this, Neu! ran out of money in the middle of the project. Their plight was met by total indifference from the record company, who wouldn't advance them another mark. So they did what any normal self-respecting band would do: they simply re-edited and remixed two singles off the album and put them on side two to fill up the time. The end result is a perverse and controversial album, one that gives the middle finger to the label, and perhaps to the record-buying public as well. That said, the disc is a very worthy one as a whole; it's a beautiful bridge between the start repetition of the debut and the lush melodic textures of 75. The disc opens with one of the band's greatest tracks, the stunning "Forever." Guitar, feedback, pulse, and distortion equals motorik, the brand name for Neu! music. Rother's playing huge chords here, spun out of effects boxes and feedback squalls, and Dinger's drumming adds a tom-tom to the metronome of snare and hi-hat. The chords are darker, minor key flourishes added to a one-note bass throb. From here it gets abstract; nocturnal ambient soundscapes with no discernable instrumentation except for a warped drum palette to keep the big swathes of white noise company ("Spitzenqualitat" & "Gedenkminute") A guitar joins the sonic investigation on "Lilac Angel" as well as a pounded out drumbeat and a growled Dinger vocal. This must have been Neu!'s idea of a hard rock single. But side two is where things get strange. Having exhausted their budge they turned to re-releasing material in manipulated fashion. Needles dropping on records, playback roughs, backwards tape manipulation sped up or slowed down interminably, all with the unmistakable Neu! sound as a base. "Super" and "Neueschnee" are played back at various speeds. There is another track that concludes with a cassette tape being eaten by a player. This is one of the more out-there sides in the history of recorded music -- the dark side of the optimism presented by Pink Floyd's Meddle...without half the effort! Over time, this great big middle finger to the music biz has weathered the storm very well. In fact, it now sounds as if it were recorded this way based on aesthetics rather than anger. But at the time it merely showed a duo that had worn each other out and had been dissed by their record company. A fine and disturbing listen, it should be sought out by anyone possessing Neu! discs on either end of this one. This is essential Krautrock.
After the considerable success of their self-titled debut album, Klaus Dinger and Michael Rother set out ambitiously to record a follow-up. Virtually everything went wrong. The first of the artistic and personal differences that existed between them not only began to surface, but to flourish in the face of a nearly impossible studio deadline and overly tight budget. While the basic Neu! sound was not an issue, how to augment it was. As both a guitarist and a composer, Rother had already begun moving in the direction he would end up in with Moebius and Rodelius in Harmonia, and on his later solo recordings: a more unified, melodic, airy, and soaring sound that was full of light and yearning. Dinger, on the other hand, was looking for more anarchy, more chaos, and rock & roll dynamics. He wanted a music that was as dramatic and confrontational as he was. It's amazing this album turned out as well as it did. On top of all this, Neu! ran out of money in the middle of the project. Their plight was met by total indifference from the record company, who wouldn't advance them another mark. So they did what any normal self-respecting band would do: they simply re-edited and remixed two singles off the album and put them on side two to fill up the time. The end result is a perverse and controversial album, one that gives the middle finger to the label, and perhaps to the record-buying public as well. That said, the disc is a very worthy one as a whole; it's a beautiful bridge between the start repetition of the debut and the lush melodic textures of 75. The disc opens with one of the band's greatest tracks, the stunning "Forever." Guitar, feedback, pulse, and distortion equals motorik, the brand name for Neu! music. Rother's playing huge chords here, spun out of effects boxes and feedback squalls, and Dinger's drumming adds a tom-tom to the metronome of snare and hi-hat. The chords are darker, minor key flourishes added to a one-note bass throb. From here it gets abstract; nocturnal ambient soundscapes with no discernable instrumentation except for a warped drum palette to keep the big swathes of white noise company ("Spitzenqualitat" & "Gedenkminute") A guitar joins the sonic investigation on "Lilac Angel" as well as a pounded out drumbeat and a growled Dinger vocal. This must have been Neu!'s idea of a hard rock single. But side two is where things get strange. Having exhausted their budge they turned to re-releasing material in manipulated fashion. Needles dropping on records, playback roughs, backwards tape manipulation sped up or slowed down interminably, all with the unmistakable Neu! sound as a base. "Super" and "Neueschnee" are played back at various speeds. There is another track that concludes with a cassette tape being eaten by a player. This is one of the more out-there sides in the history of recorded music -- the dark side of the optimism presented by Pink Floyd's Meddle...without half the effort! Over time, this great big middle finger to the music biz has weathered the storm very well. In fact, it now sounds as if it were recorded this way based on aesthetics rather than anger. But at the time it merely showed a duo that had worn each other out and had been dissed by their record company. A fine and disturbing listen, it should be sought out by anyone possessing Neu! discs on either end of this one. This is essential Krautrock.
NEU! 2 was especially memorable (or forgettable, depending on your perspective) for the material that made up the bulk of the second side on the original vinyl release. The first album had been successful in Germany, selling over 30,000 copies, but the duo ran out of cash during the making of NEU! 2 and their label refused to help out. Faced with the problem of completing side two without money for studio time, they adopted a paradigmatic postmodern art strategy, recycling and reconfiguring existing texts, or tracks in this case. Dinger and Rother took "Super" and "Neuschnee" and used them as the basis for four exercises in sonic deconstruction, in the process making an early foray into the art of the remix. The various versions of these tracks might not exactly be enjoyable, or even listenable, and the project may have been undertaken more as a vengeful expression of frustration at their label than as an artistic experiment, but the method is innovative in the context of rock music of the period. As the rpm reference in their titles suggests, "Neuschnee 78" and "Super 78" are Chip 'n' Dale-style readings of the original, achieved by playing the tracks at 78 rpm; "Super 16" is a groaning 16 rpm beast (heard briefly in Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill: Vol. 1). The wobbly, slow-motion "Cassetto" (actually the remains of "Für Immer" being consumed by a dodgy tape recorder, which may have given My Bloody Valentine a few ideas) and "Hallo Excentrico!" ("Neuschnee" played with a finger on the disc, slowing it down) are analog precursors to glitch electronica in that they make a virtue of audio detritus and error. But while the likes of Oval don't need to put a disclaimer on their CDs explaining they are meant to sound that way, NEU! inform listeners in the liner notes that the weirdness is intentional, something that perhaps undermines their radical stance. -- Trouser PressInternational recognition of Neu! spread quite rapidly, and the UK release of their eponymous debut sported cover notes by Mr. Hawkwind Dave Brock no less! DIE 2 adopted a similar style of music on side 1, but - as the story goes - they had run out of money before recording side 2, so resourcefully they included the single "Super / Neuschnee" as well as versions at wrong speeds, and some totally manipulated and cut-up adaptations of other works, complete with mock scratches and jumps. Indeed, this was Neu! at their most controversial and perplexing! For concerts around this time, numerous musicians aided them, including formerKraftwerk and Ibliss drummer Andreas Hohmann, ex-Guru Guru Uli Trepte, Eberhard Kranemann - aka Fritz Müller, and also two drummers who were to become permanent members: Thomas Dinger and Hans Lampe. -- Cosmic Egg
International recognition of Neu! spread quite rapidly, and the UK release of their eponymous debut sported cover notes by Mr. Hawkwind Dave Brock no less! DIE 2 adopted a similar style of music on side 1, but - as the story goes - they had run out of money before recording side 2, so resourcefully they included the single "Super / Neuschnee" as well as versions at wrong speeds, and some totally manipulated and cut-up adaptations of other works, complete with mock scratches and jumps. Indeed, this was Neu! at their most controversial and perplexing! For concerts around this time, numerous musicians aided them, including formerKraftwerk and Ibliss drummer Andreas Hohmann, ex-Guru Guru Uli Trepte, Eberhard Kranemann - aka Fritz Müller, and also two drummers who were to become permanent members: Thomas Dinger and Hans Lampe. -- Cosmic Egg
Would love a goth poll but you just know that everyone would be voting for the frigging Cure.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:01 (thirteen years ago)
Maybe but as artists polls are tracks polls it does even up a lot of bands chances
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:02 (thirteen years ago)
Not liking Siouxsie is a sackable offence on my watch btw
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:03 (thirteen years ago)
Anyway Neu! 2 was the 1st album of theirs I bought. Mid 90s from Tower I think (one of those italian cds) Got Neu! 75 a wee while later when they got it back in. Was a few years before I found the 1st one (second hand in Missing Records late 90s) I never did by the proper reissues and I really should.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:04 (thirteen years ago)
hah sorry as I say probably ignorance more than anything else. I do like a bit of Bauhaus if that helps!
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:05 (thirteen years ago)
I dont care for Siouxsie or The Cure much tbh. I like early singles by both and I like The Scream and Pornography and thats about it.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:06 (thirteen years ago)
I'd rather listen to Neu!
never liked the Nazi stuff with Siouxsie either but maybe I'm just not punk enough maaaaan
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:07 (thirteen years ago)
126. THE RAINCOATS The Raincoats (1792 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #72 for 1979 , #3580 overall | Acclaimed: #1569http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/430/MI0002430905.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/190Tx9jPHndq0qUlq79BJJspotify:album:190Tx9jPHndq0qUlq79BJJ
In their dubious pro-am musicianship and unavoidably spacy ambience, both of Rough Trade's very modern girl groups recall late-'60s art-rock of the Cantabrigian school--Kevin Ayers, Soft Machine, that ilk. But where Essential Logic also recalls art-rock of the Juilliard school, the Raincoats' punk-goes-folk-rock feels friendly even in its arty hostility. If the tentativeness of the rhythms and vocals is accentuated by the medium tempos they prefer, the unevenness of their songwriting means some of it is very good. Sure the multiple genderfuck "Lola" is what sucks you in, but you may end up preferring the other side. As with Lora Logic's sax, the signature and hook is Vicky Aspinall's violin, which she saws rather than plays. B+ -- R. ChristgauThe Raincoats introduced four English women parked on the fringes of conventional pop music. Or were they just an avant-garde Roches? The harmonies are there and the lyrics are esoteric and philosophical, eschewing predictable sentiments, but the music comes together only in spurts. A cover of the Kinks' "Lola" plays havoc with the song's gender enigma. The rest of the material just plays havoc. -- Trouser Press
The Raincoats introduced four English women parked on the fringes of conventional pop music. Or were they just an avant-garde Roches? The harmonies are there and the lyrics are esoteric and philosophical, eschewing predictable sentiments, but the music comes together only in spurts. A cover of the Kinks' "Lola" plays havoc with the song's gender enigma. The rest of the material just plays havoc. -- Trouser Press
reviewby John DouganPicking the "best" Raincoats is more an intellectual exercise than it is a work of thoughtful criticism. So, to make it easy for the benighted, all three studio releases are absolutely essential. Their live cassette is wonderful, but not the ideal entry point. Better yet, start with their debut, a soaring, daring, avant-garde-influenced folk-punk record. Don't let the words "avant-garde" scare you off; the Raincoats are not harsh or unapproachable. In fact, this music, even at its most dissonant, is stunning and captivating. There's a great cover of the Kinks' "Lola" that's so skewed and obtuse, Ray Davies probably never dreamed it could sound this way. Reissued by Geffen on CD with extra tracks in 1995.
Picking the "best" Raincoats is more an intellectual exercise than it is a work of thoughtful criticism. So, to make it easy for the benighted, all three studio releases are absolutely essential. Their live cassette is wonderful, but not the ideal entry point. Better yet, start with their debut, a soaring, daring, avant-garde-influenced folk-punk record. Don't let the words "avant-garde" scare you off; the Raincoats are not harsh or unapproachable. In fact, this music, even at its most dissonant, is stunning and captivating. There's a great cover of the Kinks' "Lola" that's so skewed and obtuse, Ray Davies probably never dreamed it could sound this way. Reissued by Geffen on CD with extra tracks in 1995.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:10 (thirteen years ago)
Maybe djp or someone will do a goth poll
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:12 (thirteen years ago)
Nazi stuff was just plain up-yours provocation really, not pretty but I take it with a pinch of salt. Besides Lemmy's been getting away with this iron cross bullshit for decades, Ron Asheton too, why is the Siouxsie stuff any worse? Hong Kong Garden does make me a little uneasy though tbh.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:14 (thirteen years ago)
I expected both of the last two to be top 100.
― emil.y, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:15 (thirteen years ago)
They got away with it because she was jewish iirc
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:15 (thirteen years ago)
xxp yeah that's true, I kind of give Lemmy a free pass cos he's Lemmy I guess, it's still pretty unsavoury though. Don't want to get into "should you ever listen to Burzum?" territory here, I suppose the thing that annoys me with Siouxsie is the childishness of it all.
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:18 (thirteen years ago)
125. FUNKADELIC Funkadelic (1800 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #58 for 1970 , #1638 overall | Acclaimed: #2297http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Aa4y2sfCFoE/TbjmELsHb0I/AAAAAAAAJkk/cbbqrcSUEDA/s1600/front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/3OOdtCuUiY5EyQcLPiTcQHspotify:album:3OOdtCuUiY5EyQcLPiTcQH
Q (side one, cut one): "Mommy, What's a Funkadelic?" A: Someone from Carolina who encountered eternity on LSD and vowed to contain it in a groove. Q (side two, cut four): "What Is Soul?" A: A ham hock in your corn flakes. You get high marks for your questions, guys. C+ -- R. ChristgauThe first Funkadelic album, released on a small indie Detroit label called Westbound, is a supernova, the sound of Clinton’s first explosion of creativity. It is a continuation as much as it is a beginning. The songs are steeped in a down-home southern- fried blues that is as old as turn-of-the-century blues from the Mississippi Delta, or even African music from centuries ago. Who’s to say it doesn’t go further back to some cosmic brothers from another world and time. Despite the often playful lyrics, the slow, deep funk groove exposes a much darker mood. Underneath the jokes was an underlying menace, a subliminal anger that is understandable coming from Detroit a year after it burned in angry race riots, and Martin Luther King and Malcolm X were murdered, and the Black Panthers were a force to be reckoned with. While their songs occasionally offered positive social messages like “I Got A Thing, You Got A Thing, Everybody’s Got A Thing” (“Let’s get together and support one another”), there was a dark side to Funkadelic that may not have been entirely tongue-in-cheek. -- Fastnbulbous
The first Funkadelic album, released on a small indie Detroit label called Westbound, is a supernova, the sound of Clinton’s first explosion of creativity. It is a continuation as much as it is a beginning. The songs are steeped in a down-home southern- fried blues that is as old as turn-of-the-century blues from the Mississippi Delta, or even African music from centuries ago. Who’s to say it doesn’t go further back to some cosmic brothers from another world and time. Despite the often playful lyrics, the slow, deep funk groove exposes a much darker mood. Underneath the jokes was an underlying menace, a subliminal anger that is understandable coming from Detroit a year after it burned in angry race riots, and Martin Luther King and Malcolm X were murdered, and the Black Panthers were a force to be reckoned with. While their songs occasionally offered positive social messages like “I Got A Thing, You Got A Thing, Everybody’s Got A Thing” (“Let’s get together and support one another”), there was a dark side to Funkadelic that may not have been entirely tongue-in-cheek. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Jason BirchmeierFunkadelic's self-titled 1970 debut is one of the group's best early- to mid-'70s albums. Not only is it laden with great songs -- "I'll Bet You" and "I Got a Thing..." are obvious highlights -- but it retains perhaps a greater sense of classic '60s soul and R&B than any successive George Clinton-affiliated album. Recording for the Detroit-based Westbound label, at the time Funkadelic were in the same boat as psychedelic soul groups such as the Temptations, who had just recorded their landmark Cloud Nine album across town at Motown, and other similar groups. Yet no group had managed to effectively balance big, gnarly rock guitars with crooning, heartfelt soul at this point in time quite like Funkadelic. Clinton's songs are essentially conventional soul songs in the spirit of Motown or Stax -- steady rhythms, dense arrangements, choruses of vocals -- but with a loud, overdriven, fuzzy guitar lurking high in the mix. And when Clinton's songs went into their chaotic moments of jamming, there was no mistaking the Hendrix influence. Furthermore, Clinton's half-quirky, half-trippy ad libs during "Mommy, What's a Funkadelic?" and "What Is Soul" can be mistaken for no one else -- they're pure-cut P-Funk. Successive albums portray Funkadelic drifting further toward rock, funk, and eventually disco, especially once Bernie Worrell began playing a larger role in the group. Never again would the band be this attuned to its '60s roots, making self-titled release a revealing and unique record that's certainly not short on significance, clearly marking the crossroads between '60s soul and '70s funk.
Funkadelic's self-titled 1970 debut is one of the group's best early- to mid-'70s albums. Not only is it laden with great songs -- "I'll Bet You" and "I Got a Thing..." are obvious highlights -- but it retains perhaps a greater sense of classic '60s soul and R&B than any successive George Clinton-affiliated album. Recording for the Detroit-based Westbound label, at the time Funkadelic were in the same boat as psychedelic soul groups such as the Temptations, who had just recorded their landmark Cloud Nine album across town at Motown, and other similar groups. Yet no group had managed to effectively balance big, gnarly rock guitars with crooning, heartfelt soul at this point in time quite like Funkadelic. Clinton's songs are essentially conventional soul songs in the spirit of Motown or Stax -- steady rhythms, dense arrangements, choruses of vocals -- but with a loud, overdriven, fuzzy guitar lurking high in the mix. And when Clinton's songs went into their chaotic moments of jamming, there was no mistaking the Hendrix influence. Furthermore, Clinton's half-quirky, half-trippy ad libs during "Mommy, What's a Funkadelic?" and "What Is Soul" can be mistaken for no one else -- they're pure-cut P-Funk. Successive albums portray Funkadelic drifting further toward rock, funk, and eventually disco, especially once Bernie Worrell began playing a larger role in the group. Never again would the band be this attuned to its '60s roots, making self-titled release a revealing and unique record that's certainly not short on significance, clearly marking the crossroads between '60s soul and '70s funk.
Track Listing:Mommy, What's a Funkadelic? {G Clinton} 9:04 lyricsI Bet You {G Clinton, Pat Lindsey, Sidney Barnes} 6:10 lyricsMusic For My Mother {G Clinton} 5:37 lyricsI Got a Thing, You Got a Thing, Everybody's Got a Thing {Clarence Haskins} 3:52 lyricsGood Old Music {G Clinton} 7:59 lyricsQualify and Satisfy {G Clinton, Billy Nelson, Eddie Hazel} 6:15 lyricsWhat is Soul {G Clinton} 7:40 lyricsPersonnel:Lead Guitar: Eddie HazelRhythm Guitar: Tawl RossBass: Billy NelsonOrgan: Mickey AtkinsDrums: Tiki FulwoodVocals: George Clinton, Fuzzy Haskins, Grady Thomas, CalvinSimon, Ray DavisSong-Specific Personnel: "Mommy, What's a Funkadelic":Lead Vocals: George ClintonGuitars: Dennis Coffey, Ray MonetteKeyboards: Ivy HunterBass: Bob Babbit "I Bet You"Vocals: Parliament, Eddie HazelGuitar: Eddie HazelKeyboards: Earl Van DykeBass: Bob BabbitDrums: Tiki Fulwood "Music For My Mother"Vocals: Herb SparkmanBass: Billy NelsonGuitar: Eddie HazelDrums: Brad Innis "I Got a Thing..."Lead Vocals: Fuzzy HaskinsGuitar: Ray MonetteDrums: Tiki Fulwood "Qualify and Satisfy"Lead Vocals: Calvin SimonDrums: Tiki Fulwood "What is Soul"Lead Vocals: George ClintonRating: GZ **** RC ****1/2 MM *****Comment:RC: A very rough album with many sparks of genius. Brilliant, screeching guitar by Eddie throughout. "What Is Soul" is hilarious and acid-drenched, "Mommy..." kicks off the Funkadelic Era in grand style..."If you will suck my soul, I will lick your funky emotions." The polish on later albums makes them more listenable than the feedback-fest here, but there's a great feeling of unity and a solid backbeat. Much of the album was recorded with the aid of assorted Motown session men. Features two blues tunes in "Qualify & Satisfy" and "Music For My Mother". The other interesting thing about this album is the large number of different lead vocalists used. Clinton comes up with a large number of his raps that would be repeated on future albums and tours here, like 'Ain't nothin' good unless you play with it, and all that is good is nasty.' "What Is Soul" also contains the sounds of bong hits being taken, with that tell-tale cough afterwards."Mommy..." establishes a number of Funkadelic-isms straight away. An aggressive bassline sets the stage for the song, and it stays rock- solid the whole way through. Yet it never veers off into solo territory. An infectious chant is used to continue a groove, and George launches into one of his weird raps, saying that Funkadelic 'is not of this world', but that they 'will do you no harm, other than pee in your Afro.' Like many of the early songs, it then goes into an extended jam session at the end, turning single-length songs into something far weirder. "I Bet You" has one of those irresistable riffs and a great drum intro, with lyrics so Motown-ish that the Jackson 5 later covered it! This was a song that had been recorded by the Parliaments earlier on. "Music For..." features another great chant, a superior vocal performance, and interesting mock-harmonica vocals. "I Got A Thing..." is the album's standout cut, with one of their most memorable chants and an 'all-the-way-off' solo by Motown session man Ray Monette. A number of session men were still being used at this point, as the classic Funkadelic lineup (Fulwood, Hazel, Ross, Nelson) was still mainly used as a live band. "Good Old Music" is another Parliaments remake, but it goes on a bit too long, as does "Qualify & Satisfy". The latter song is a straight-up blues that later soars away into psychedelia. "What Is Soul" is a fitting bookend on this album, featuring another of Clinton's strangest, funniest raps, more chants, and another roaming guitar riff. Considering that Clinton knew next to nothing about producing a record at this point, the results are remarkable. Not clean, but a lot of the album's 'mistakes' are its best points.
Mommy, What's a Funkadelic? {G Clinton} 9:04 lyricsI Bet You {G Clinton, Pat Lindsey, Sidney Barnes} 6:10 lyricsMusic For My Mother {G Clinton} 5:37 lyricsI Got a Thing, You Got a Thing, Everybody's Got a Thing {Clarence Haskins} 3:52 lyricsGood Old Music {G Clinton} 7:59 lyricsQualify and Satisfy {G Clinton, Billy Nelson, Eddie Hazel} 6:15 lyricsWhat is Soul {G Clinton} 7:40 lyrics
Lead Guitar: Eddie HazelRhythm Guitar: Tawl RossBass: Billy NelsonOrgan: Mickey AtkinsDrums: Tiki FulwoodVocals: George Clinton, Fuzzy Haskins, Grady Thomas, CalvinSimon, Ray Davis
"Mommy, What's a Funkadelic":Lead Vocals: George ClintonGuitars: Dennis Coffey, Ray MonetteKeyboards: Ivy HunterBass: Bob Babbit
"I Bet You"Vocals: Parliament, Eddie HazelGuitar: Eddie HazelKeyboards: Earl Van DykeBass: Bob BabbitDrums: Tiki Fulwood
"Music For My Mother"Vocals: Herb SparkmanBass: Billy NelsonGuitar: Eddie HazelDrums: Brad Innis
"I Got a Thing..."Lead Vocals: Fuzzy HaskinsGuitar: Ray MonetteDrums: Tiki Fulwood
"Qualify and Satisfy"Lead Vocals: Calvin SimonDrums: Tiki Fulwood
"What is Soul"Lead Vocals: George Clinton
Rating: GZ **** RC ****1/2 MM *****
RC: A very rough album with many sparks of genius. Brilliant, screeching guitar by Eddie throughout. "What Is Soul" is hilarious and acid-drenched, "Mommy..." kicks off the Funkadelic Era in grand style..."If you will suck my soul, I will lick your funky emotions." The polish on later albums makes them more listenable than the feedback-fest here, but there's a great feeling of unity and a solid backbeat. Much of the album was recorded with the aid of assorted Motown session men. Features two blues tunes in "Qualify & Satisfy" and "Music For My Mother". The other interesting thing about this album is the large number of different lead vocalists used. Clinton comes up with a large number of his raps that would be repeated on future albums and tours here, like 'Ain't nothin' good unless you play with it, and all that is good is nasty.' "What Is Soul" also contains the sounds of bong hits being taken, with that tell-tale cough afterwards.
"Mommy..." establishes a number of Funkadelic-isms straight away. An aggressive bassline sets the stage for the song, and it stays rock- solid the whole way through. Yet it never veers off into solo territory. An infectious chant is used to continue a groove, and George launches into one of his weird raps, saying that Funkadelic 'is not of this world', but that they 'will do you no harm, other than pee in your Afro.' Like many of the early songs, it then goes into an extended jam session at the end, turning single-length songs into something far weirder. "I Bet You" has one of those irresistable riffs and a great drum intro, with lyrics so Motown-ish that the Jackson 5 later covered it! This was a song that had been recorded by the Parliaments earlier on. "Music For..." features another great chant, a superior vocal performance, and interesting mock-harmonica vocals. "I Got A Thing..." is the album's standout cut, with one of their most memorable chants and an 'all-the-way-off' solo by Motown session man Ray Monette. A number of session men were still being used at this point, as the classic Funkadelic lineup (Fulwood, Hazel, Ross, Nelson) was still mainly used as a live band. "Good Old Music" is another Parliaments remake, but it goes on a bit too long, as does "Qualify & Satisfy". The latter song is a straight-up blues that later soars away into psychedelia. "What Is Soul" is a fitting bookend on this album, featuring another of Clinton's strangest, funniest raps, more chants, and another roaming guitar riff. Considering that Clinton knew next to nothing about producing a record at this point, the results are remarkable. Not clean, but a lot of the album's 'mistakes' are its best points.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:20 (thirteen years ago)
Too low obviously, you dont need to say it
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:24 (thirteen years ago)
Don't disagree with you on that Neil. Varg is def in a completely different ballpark of wankerdom though. xps
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:25 (thirteen years ago)
The other side is varg supposedly wasnt a nazi racist arsehole until he was in jail but yeah a totally different thing.
I'd rather we discussed bands/albums in this poll than varg!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:26 (thirteen years ago)
FUNKADELIC!!!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:27 (thirteen years ago)
btw taking it down to 121 tonight. Hope you all hang around.
We will be hitting the top 100 tomorrow!
124. IGGY POP The Idiot (1810 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #25 for 1977 , #788 overall | Acclaimed: #602http://www.chartstats.com/images/artwork/26373.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/7vCU9jvSESwQNQr6SB9JySspotify:album:7vCU9jvSESwQNQr6SB9JyS
The line on Iggy is that this comeback album with Bowie and friends proves his creative power has dissipated. I say bullshit. The Stooges recorded prophetic music, but only some of it was great: because Iggy's skill at working out his musical concept didn't match his energy and inspiration, the attempted dirges fell too flat and some of the rockers never blasted off as intended. Dissipated or not, the new record works as a record. By now, Iggy barbs his lyrics with an oldtimer's irony, which suits the reflective tone Bowie has imposed on the music just fine. In retrospect, it will appear that this was Iggy's only alternative to autodestruct. Not true, perhaps, but retrospect favors artifacts. As do I. A- -- R. ChristgauAfter the Stooges ended, Iggy resurfaced as a solo artist but remained under the influence of David Bowie, who co-wrote and produced The Idiot. Instead of flailing all over the place, Iggy conserves his energy on numbers like the surprisingly funky "Sister Midnight" and the menacing "Funtime." The album's tone is generally subdued ("Baby," "Nightclubbing," "Dum Dum Boys"), lumbering along in medium gear. It's disturbingly effective, but of mixed parentage. -- Trouser PressIggy Pop has always been the greatest rock comedian. As leader and frontispiece for that most extreme wing of rock nihilism represented by the Stooges, he at once defined and ridiculed the options left to punk rockers after "My Generation." The nihilist attitude meant plenty when it was a reaction to the pop status quo best exemplified by Dick Clark, but once nihilism itself became the status quo it was trivialized into mere decadence, a fashionable synonym for boredom.Iggy's criticism is a brilliant, if depressing, argument in defense of that much debated assertion that rock is dead. The Idiot, recorded by Bowie, sung in a tired growl excoriated from Jim Morrison via Ray Manzarek, and steeped in the so-called "minimalist" ambiance currently so fashionable among young bands who've spent too much time listening to Iggy and taking him seriously, is the most savage indictment of rock posturing ever recorded.Iggy's point, of course, is that rock is better off dead, but his is not the sentimental, transcendental approach to death. The Idiot is, on the contrary, a necrophiliac's delight, and Pop's next move may well go beyond flesh-tearing into live barbecue. -- John Swenson, RSIn the eight years since The Stooges' debut album exploded into the popular consciousness, Iggy Pop had burned brighter and fallen more spectacularly than any other artist of his generation. Sobering up from a self-imposed stint in a mental institution, Detroit's finest was aching for a second chance, but record labels were understandably wary of taking a chance on one of rock's greatest flakes. Enter, his fairy godmother, David Bowie.Bowie, who had worked with Iggy Pop on 1974's Raw Power, pulled together a band and brought Pop to Berlin, where the Thin White Duke was mining a rich seam of inspiration. Out went the wild abandon of The Stooges' raucous guitar and rhythm section, and a more cerebral, subdued sound developed in the songs the pair co-wrote. Keyboards and bass featured heavily, leading Iggy to dub the sound "James Brown meets Kraftwerk."The lyrics serve as redemption for Pop. Whether it is the wistful odes to his previous drug and sexual excesses on "Funtime," or the almost mawkish recollection of his ex-band buddies during "Dum Dum Boys" and its spoken-word intro ("How about Dave?" /"OD-ed on alcohol..." /"How about James?" /"He's going straight"), you sense The Idiot is a step out of Iggy's mental miasma.But while his anguished howls and sinister baritone suggests a man pained, there is room for play too, as he apes Bowie on "China Girl" (later to be a hit for the latter), and the anthem of the anti-Studio 54 brigade, "Nightclubbing." If music as rehab was always this successful, the clinics would soon be empty. -- Seth Jacobson, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
After the Stooges ended, Iggy resurfaced as a solo artist but remained under the influence of David Bowie, who co-wrote and produced The Idiot. Instead of flailing all over the place, Iggy conserves his energy on numbers like the surprisingly funky "Sister Midnight" and the menacing "Funtime." The album's tone is generally subdued ("Baby," "Nightclubbing," "Dum Dum Boys"), lumbering along in medium gear. It's disturbingly effective, but of mixed parentage. -- Trouser Press
Iggy Pop has always been the greatest rock comedian. As leader and frontispiece for that most extreme wing of rock nihilism represented by the Stooges, he at once defined and ridiculed the options left to punk rockers after "My Generation." The nihilist attitude meant plenty when it was a reaction to the pop status quo best exemplified by Dick Clark, but once nihilism itself became the status quo it was trivialized into mere decadence, a fashionable synonym for boredom.
Iggy's criticism is a brilliant, if depressing, argument in defense of that much debated assertion that rock is dead. The Idiot, recorded by Bowie, sung in a tired growl excoriated from Jim Morrison via Ray Manzarek, and steeped in the so-called "minimalist" ambiance currently so fashionable among young bands who've spent too much time listening to Iggy and taking him seriously, is the most savage indictment of rock posturing ever recorded.
Iggy's point, of course, is that rock is better off dead, but his is not the sentimental, transcendental approach to death. The Idiot is, on the contrary, a necrophiliac's delight, and Pop's next move may well go beyond flesh-tearing into live barbecue. -- John Swenson, RS
In the eight years since The Stooges' debut album exploded into the popular consciousness, Iggy Pop had burned brighter and fallen more spectacularly than any other artist of his generation. Sobering up from a self-imposed stint in a mental institution, Detroit's finest was aching for a second chance, but record labels were understandably wary of taking a chance on one of rock's greatest flakes. Enter, his fairy godmother, David Bowie.
Bowie, who had worked with Iggy Pop on 1974's Raw Power, pulled together a band and brought Pop to Berlin, where the Thin White Duke was mining a rich seam of inspiration. Out went the wild abandon of The Stooges' raucous guitar and rhythm section, and a more cerebral, subdued sound developed in the songs the pair co-wrote. Keyboards and bass featured heavily, leading Iggy to dub the sound "James Brown meets Kraftwerk."
The lyrics serve as redemption for Pop. Whether it is the wistful odes to his previous drug and sexual excesses on "Funtime," or the almost mawkish recollection of his ex-band buddies during "Dum Dum Boys" and its spoken-word intro ("How about Dave?" /"OD-ed on alcohol..." /"How about James?" /"He's going straight"), you sense The Idiot is a step out of Iggy's mental miasma.
But while his anguished howls and sinister baritone suggests a man pained, there is room for play too, as he apes Bowie on "China Girl" (later to be a hit for the latter), and the anthem of the anti-Studio 54 brigade, "Nightclubbing." If music as rehab was always this successful, the clinics would soon be empty. -- Seth Jacobson, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
review[-] by Mark DemingIn 1976, the Stooges had been gone for two years, and Iggy Pop had developed a notorious reputation as one of rock & roll's most spectacular waste cases. After a self-imposed stay in a mental hospital, a significantly more functional Iggy was desperate to prove he could hold down a career in music, and he was given another chance by his longtime ally, David Bowie. Bowie co-wrote a batch of new songs with Iggy, put together a band, and produced The Idiot, which took Iggy in a new direction decidedly different from the guitar-fueled proto-punk of the Stooges. Musically, The Idiot is of a piece with the impressionistic music of Bowie's "Berlin Period" (such as Heroes and Low), with it's fragmented guitar figures, ominous basslines, and discordant, high-relief keyboard parts. Iggy's new music was cerebral and inward-looking, where his early work had been a glorious call to the id, and Iggy was in more subdued form than with the Stooges, with his voice sinking into a world-weary baritone that was a decided contrast to the harsh, defiant cry heard on "Search and Destroy." Iggy was exploring new territory as a lyricist, and his songs on The Idiot are self-referential and poetic in a way that his work had rarely been in the past; for the most part the results are impressive, especially "Dum Dum Boys," a paean to the glory days of his former band, and "Nightclubbing," a call to the joys of decadence. The Idiot introduced the world to a very different Iggy Pop, and if the results surprised anyone expecting a replay of the assault of Raw Power, it also made it clear that Iggy was older, wiser, and still had plenty to say; it's a flawed but powerful and emotionally absorbing work.
In 1976, the Stooges had been gone for two years, and Iggy Pop had developed a notorious reputation as one of rock & roll's most spectacular waste cases. After a self-imposed stay in a mental hospital, a significantly more functional Iggy was desperate to prove he could hold down a career in music, and he was given another chance by his longtime ally, David Bowie. Bowie co-wrote a batch of new songs with Iggy, put together a band, and produced The Idiot, which took Iggy in a new direction decidedly different from the guitar-fueled proto-punk of the Stooges. Musically, The Idiot is of a piece with the impressionistic music of Bowie's "Berlin Period" (such as Heroes and Low), with it's fragmented guitar figures, ominous basslines, and discordant, high-relief keyboard parts. Iggy's new music was cerebral and inward-looking, where his early work had been a glorious call to the id, and Iggy was in more subdued form than with the Stooges, with his voice sinking into a world-weary baritone that was a decided contrast to the harsh, defiant cry heard on "Search and Destroy." Iggy was exploring new territory as a lyricist, and his songs on The Idiot are self-referential and poetic in a way that his work had rarely been in the past; for the most part the results are impressive, especially "Dum Dum Boys," a paean to the glory days of his former band, and "Nightclubbing," a call to the joys of decadence. The Idiot introduced the world to a very different Iggy Pop, and if the results surprised anyone expecting a replay of the assault of Raw Power, it also made it clear that Iggy was older, wiser, and still had plenty to say; it's a flawed but powerful and emotionally absorbing work.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:30 (thirteen years ago)
Any interviews with Siouxsie where she explains/atones for the past? To be fair, she was pretty much a child in the early Banshees days.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:33 (thirteen years ago)
Wow, had no idea Babbit played on Funkadelic.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:33 (thirteen years ago)
The Idiot is cool, but no way in hell is it better than Lust For Life.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:35 (thirteen years ago)
As symbols of protest, swastikas are no less fatuous than flowers.
Um.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:37 (thirteen years ago)
I would take it over Lust for Life personally, I like the frosty synthiness of it
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:38 (thirteen years ago)
Elvis Costello vs Siouxsie
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:44 (thirteen years ago)
Bowie vs Clapton
what was it with the 70s?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:45 (thirteen years ago)
123. STIFF LITTLE FINGERS Inflammable Material (1814 Points, 12 Votes)RYM: #20 for 1979 , #1029 overall | Acclaimed: #816http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZBbktGg8pJA/TjXe391JoLI/AAAAAAAAAOg/gPqSeJEe0B0/s1600/Stiff+Little+Fingers+1.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2uXYm7SqdQlOgrx2FEWlkDspotify:album:2uXYm7SqdQlOgrx2FEWlkD
Belfast's Stiff Little Fingers began as four exciting (if narrow-minded) sloganeers, led by raw-voiced singer/guitarist Jake Burns. SLF's debut (the Rough Trade label's first LP release) includes such classic protest punk as "Suspect Device," "Alternative Ulster" and "Wasted Life." The LP is generally regarded as a classic punk LP; its UK chart success was the spark that set off a second wave of new bands like the Ruts and Undertones. -- Trouser PressThe SLF had originally been called Highway Star, shades of Deep Purple and a blatant sign of their Hard-Rock continuity. They grasped Ulster's problems like a nettle, penned some brilliant tunes and quickly evolved into a ballsy Punk rock band. Of particular interest, beyond the brilliant hits "Alternative Ulster" and "Suspect Device" is their militaristic cover of Bob Marley's "Johnny Was" an unusual result of the Punk/Reggae detente. -- Woebot
The SLF had originally been called Highway Star, shades of Deep Purple and a blatant sign of their Hard-Rock continuity. They grasped Ulster's problems like a nettle, penned some brilliant tunes and quickly evolved into a ballsy Punk rock band. Of particular interest, beyond the brilliant hits "Alternative Ulster" and "Suspect Device" is their militaristic cover of Bob Marley's "Johnny Was" an unusual result of the Punk/Reggae detente. -- Woebot
review[-] by Thom JurekOne more time Restless Records, in association with Ryko, trot out the first three Stiff Little Fingers albums for reissue (Inflammable Material, Nobody's Heroes and the live Hanx), this time in the United States. They are identical to the 2001 versions with bonus tracks, so punters beware of making the same purchase twice. Originally released in 1979, Stiff Little Fingers were Ireland's answer to both the Clash and the Sex Pistols. They had the personal and political stance of the former, and the noisy, pissed off, slash-and-burn musical aesthetic as the latter. Fronted by guitarist and songwriter Jake Burns (he collaborated with journalist Gordon Ogilvie), SLF took off with their two singles "Alternative Ulster," and, for that time, the utterly out of control screaming that was "Suspect Device." These two singles make the purchase price of the album a priority. They represent barely contained youthful anger at social and political mores as righteous, utterly devoid of posturing or falsity and raging to break out. "Alternative Ulster" decries the Irish political sides in the Northern Ireland controversy -- the Royal Ulster Constabulary and the Irish Republican Army -- holding them both accountable for bloodshed and social and economic stasis furthering nothing but their own interests. "Suspect Device" which opens the set, screams at the heart of the conflict, that neither side can be believed as both reduce freedom to a buzzword while wielding guns. Both tracks are calls to arms, but of a different sort -- the arms of dialogue and intelligence in the midst of idiocy and murder. Punk rock never sounded so brutal or positive in one band. There are other fine cuts here as well, such as the Bob Marley cover "Johnny Was," reinvented for the times in Northern Ireland; "Wasted Life," another paean to drop out of a society that breeds death and acquiescence for its own sake, and the scathing indictment of the record company that released the album, "Rough Trade." The bonus material includes the single mix of "Suspect Device," the B-side "78 RPM," and part one -- the other two parts are on the subsequent reissues -- of an interview with Burns. If you already have these, don't bother. If you've been trying to dig through the morass into the heart of punk's original fire, this one's for you.
One more time Restless Records, in association with Ryko, trot out the first three Stiff Little Fingers albums for reissue (Inflammable Material, Nobody's Heroes and the live Hanx), this time in the United States. They are identical to the 2001 versions with bonus tracks, so punters beware of making the same purchase twice. Originally released in 1979, Stiff Little Fingers were Ireland's answer to both the Clash and the Sex Pistols. They had the personal and political stance of the former, and the noisy, pissed off, slash-and-burn musical aesthetic as the latter. Fronted by guitarist and songwriter Jake Burns (he collaborated with journalist Gordon Ogilvie), SLF took off with their two singles "Alternative Ulster," and, for that time, the utterly out of control screaming that was "Suspect Device." These two singles make the purchase price of the album a priority. They represent barely contained youthful anger at social and political mores as righteous, utterly devoid of posturing or falsity and raging to break out. "Alternative Ulster" decries the Irish political sides in the Northern Ireland controversy -- the Royal Ulster Constabulary and the Irish Republican Army -- holding them both accountable for bloodshed and social and economic stasis furthering nothing but their own interests. "Suspect Device" which opens the set, screams at the heart of the conflict, that neither side can be believed as both reduce freedom to a buzzword while wielding guns. Both tracks are calls to arms, but of a different sort -- the arms of dialogue and intelligence in the midst of idiocy and murder. Punk rock never sounded so brutal or positive in one band. There are other fine cuts here as well, such as the Bob Marley cover "Johnny Was," reinvented for the times in Northern Ireland; "Wasted Life," another paean to drop out of a society that breeds death and acquiescence for its own sake, and the scathing indictment of the record company that released the album, "Rough Trade." The bonus material includes the single mix of "Suspect Device," the B-side "78 RPM," and part one -- the other two parts are on the subsequent reissues -- of an interview with Burns. If you already have these, don't bother. If you've been trying to dig through the morass into the heart of punk's original fire, this one's for you.
way too low
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:47 (thirteen years ago)
Sorry I was out of it most of today! Wow lots of Too Low today... Interesting seeing Houses of The Holy and Black Sabbath not make the top 100...
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:51 (thirteen years ago)
Actually got this lp 2nd hand in a charity shop for a couple of quid in the mid 90s. SLF were huge round here when I was a v young kid. I actually lived in a village a few miles away from where I live now and my mum and her friend ran a youth club every weds night in my primary school for the kids who went to Holy Cross High School in Hamilton. All the boys were into SLF and the girls were into Shakin Stevens. I was allowed in because of my mum obv so I was really familiar with SLF as a kid. Its also where I heard all the 2-tone stuff.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:51 (thirteen years ago)
Pretty unsatisfying, makes it harder to empathize with Siouxsie:
Pistols manager Malcolm McLaren was quick to recognise the Bromley Contingent's aesthetic potential. These were arrogant youths, stylish, brash and sexually extrovert. Siouxsie herself would attend Pistols shows in a cut-out bra exposing her tits, staged her own "Sex Olympics" at a debauched house party and took gay friend "Berlin" to the pub on a leash. She was kicked out for requesting "a bowl of water for my dog". More contentious still, at a time when NF membership was on the increase, the Bromley Contingent opened up punk's wardrobe to Nazi chic. For much of 1976, Siouxsie wore swastika armbands in an attempt to enrage the Establishment's 'we fought a war for the likes of you' mindset. She succeeded, though today her naivety- what NME's Julie Burchill decried as "making a fashion accessory out of the death of millions of people"-seems unforgivable. Siouxsie is surprisingly frank, if unrepentant."The culture around then," she explains, "it was Monty Python, Basil Fawlty, Freddie Starr, The Producers- 'Springtime For Hitler'." She kicks out her leg in a mock goosestep. "It was very much Salon Kitty. It was used as a glamour thing. And you know what?" she sighs." I have to be honest but I do like the Nazi uniform. I shouldn't say it but I think it's a very good-looking uniform."You shouldn't say it for fear of upsetting the PC mob?"Yeah. It's almost like you feel like saying,'Aw, come on. Nazis - they're brilliant.' Political correctness becomes imprisoning. It's very - what's the word? It's being very Nazi! It's ironic but this PC-ness is so fucking fascist. In America they're especially touchy about Nazis and it's so Nazi! You go to LA and it's so segregated. It's very Nazi and the irony is they don't get it. They don't realise how Nazi they are about taking offence to mentioning the word Nazi." -- Uncut, 2005
"The culture around then," she explains, "it was Monty Python, Basil Fawlty, Freddie Starr, The Producers- 'Springtime For Hitler'." She kicks out her leg in a mock goosestep. "It was very much Salon Kitty. It was used as a glamour thing. And you know what?" she sighs." I have to be honest but I do like the Nazi uniform. I shouldn't say it but I think it's a very good-looking uniform."
You shouldn't say it for fear of upsetting the PC mob?
"Yeah. It's almost like you feel like saying,'Aw, come on. Nazis - they're brilliant.' Political correctness becomes imprisoning. It's very - what's the word? It's being very Nazi! It's ironic but this PC-ness is so fucking fascist. In America they're especially touchy about Nazis and it's so Nazi! You go to LA and it's so segregated. It's very Nazi and the irony is they don't get it. They don't realise how Nazi they are about taking offence to mentioning the word Nazi." -- Uncut, 2005
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:53 (thirteen years ago)
rock star in "talking bollocks" shocker
― Neil S, Sunday, 24 March 2013 20:55 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah I had high hopes that The Scream and Inflammable Material would make the top 100 but like I said before, getting to yell 'TOO LOW' and feel all superior is half the fun of these things. ;)
― Eamon Dool Two (Mr Andy M), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:02 (thirteen years ago)
I love Johnny Was off that SLF album, but it's hard to hear it now though without thinking what a huge influence they must have been on U2. Seconds especially is a direct rip-off, but that whole guitar sound and militaristic drums and the larynx-shredding vocals is pretty much War in a nutshell.
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:07 (thirteen years ago)
wau @ Vindicator being #136
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:08 (thirteen years ago)
122. ISLEY BROTHERS The Heat Is On (1815 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #111 for 1975 , #4720 overallhttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gz0g9nvxmnM/T_IL2b5xwMI/AAAAAAAAAAw/wia8Sf_R1dk/s1600/TheHeatIsOnFront.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/113hKdgPCgDXwegavxniAZspotify:album:113hKdgPCgDXwegavxniAZ
This is well-nigh flawless Isleys--the rockish electric textures are muted nicely on side two, "Fight the Power" does its bit to politicize the radio, and Seals & Crofts won't steal any lyrics. But Ronnie Isley isn't getting any less unctuous--when he tries to talk someone into bed he recalls one of those guys who started wearing love beads to singles bars in 1968 or 1969. Progress requires ambition, but the two aren't identical. B -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Alex Henderson1975's The Heat Is On was the third album that the Isley Brothers recorded with their 3 + 3 lineup, and by that time, the lineup had really perfected its attractive soul/rock sound. The Isleys were providing great R&B long before keyboardist Chris Jasper, bassist Marvin Isley, and the distinctive guitarist Ernie Isley came on board in 1973; nonetheless, the newcomers added a lot to the group and helped it provide some of its best recordings. Marvin's basslines are as funky as it gets, and the Jimi Hendrix-influenced Ernie is a killer guitarist; he would have been perfect for Deep Purple, Blue Öyster Cult, or Judas Priest if the Isley Brothers hadn't kept him busy in the 1970s. One of the 3 + 3 gems that no Isleys fans should be without is The Heat Is On, which is best known for the sweaty funk classic "Fight the Power" and the sexy quiet storm slow jam "For the Love of You." Lead vocalist Ronald Isley is as convincing on the funk scorchers as he is on caressing ballads like "Make Me Say It Again Girl" and "Sensuality." Meanwhile, "Hope You Feel Better Love" is brilliant because it contrasts those two sides of the 3 + 3 lineup -- the verses are sweetly melodic, but the chorus is forceful and explosive. Superb from start to finish, The Heat Is On is among The Isleys' most essential albums.
1975's The Heat Is On was the third album that the Isley Brothers recorded with their 3 + 3 lineup, and by that time, the lineup had really perfected its attractive soul/rock sound. The Isleys were providing great R&B long before keyboardist Chris Jasper, bassist Marvin Isley, and the distinctive guitarist Ernie Isley came on board in 1973; nonetheless, the newcomers added a lot to the group and helped it provide some of its best recordings. Marvin's basslines are as funky as it gets, and the Jimi Hendrix-influenced Ernie is a killer guitarist; he would have been perfect for Deep Purple, Blue Öyster Cult, or Judas Priest if the Isley Brothers hadn't kept him busy in the 1970s. One of the 3 + 3 gems that no Isleys fans should be without is The Heat Is On, which is best known for the sweaty funk classic "Fight the Power" and the sexy quiet storm slow jam "For the Love of You." Lead vocalist Ronald Isley is as convincing on the funk scorchers as he is on caressing ballads like "Make Me Say It Again Girl" and "Sensuality." Meanwhile, "Hope You Feel Better Love" is brilliant because it contrasts those two sides of the 3 + 3 lineup -- the verses are sweetly melodic, but the chorus is forceful and explosive. Superb from start to finish, The Heat Is On is among The Isleys' most essential albums.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:09 (thirteen years ago)
I forgot to pay the gas bill and now The Heat Is Off.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:10 (thirteen years ago)
but this is a seriously great album what's it doing here? It should be higher IMO.
but like I said before, getting to yell 'TOO LOW' and feel all superior is half the fun of these things. ;)― Eamon Dool Two (Mr Andy M),
― Eamon Dool Two (Mr Andy M),
TOO LOW!!!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:11 (thirteen years ago)
What band do you all most associate with the 1970s?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:15 (thirteen years ago)
probably David Bowie. As for Rawk Bands, probably Thin Lizzy.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:17 (thirteen years ago)
As I mentioned before, I have and love most of the Isley albums up to 3+3. I've been listening to the next four and just don't get it, this stuff is way too inconsistent. I don't get why every middling mid-70s Isley album shows up while most of the Temptations albums from this era are non-starters.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:18 (thirteen years ago)
because It's not middling and you're wrong!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:19 (thirteen years ago)
I'll post the last one for tonight in 10 mins
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:20 (thirteen years ago)
Yeah AFAIK this is the a lot of people's favorite Isley Bros record and "classic" to their discography.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:20 (thirteen years ago)
While you all can say which band represents the 70s the most to you
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:21 (thirteen years ago)
btw viceroy I'll get the recap again tonight can you do the honours the rest of the week please?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:22 (thirteen years ago)
yes I will resume duties tomorrow.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:22 (thirteen years ago)
cheers!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:23 (thirteen years ago)
Definitely gonna have to dig into the Isleys' 70s records. I have a few tracks on a comp (their "Fire and Rain" is the best version anyone will ever hear of that song), but had no idea how revered their albums were.
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:25 (thirteen years ago)
121. KRAFTWERK I (1827 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #544 for 1970http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GmMllzSkntY/TyiwBPDEZ_I/AAAAAAAAACA/VrNMUfZun_Q/s1600/kraftwerk_f.jpg
The early history of Kraftwerk is a lot more complex than it at first seems. From their albums the story seems to be a simple one that Kraftwerk were Ralf and Florian plus others that passed through the band. But that's not really so. During the recording of their debut, drummer Andreas Hohmann came and went (going to Ibliss) and was quickly replaced by Klaus Dinger. Yet, no sooner had he joined in on these sessions, Klaus went on to other projects, and Ralf Hütter went back to his musical studies. Meanwhile, Florian kept Kraftwerk going with various line-ups. December 1970: Florian Schneider (flute), Eberhard Kranemann (bass, cello, guitar), Charly Weiss (drums); February 1971: Florian Schneider (flute), Peter A. Schmidt (drums), Eberhard Kranemann (bass) and Houschäng Nejadepour (guitar), with Klaus Dinger returning in Spring 1971. A famous Kraftwerk appearance from this era is the line-up of: Florian Schneider (flute, violin, electronics), Michael Rother (guitar, electronics) and Klaus Dinger (drums) on the Beat-Club TV programme (May 1971) called "Rückstossgondoliere", which (despite the absence of Ralf Hutter) bridges perfectly the Kraftwerk "Ruckzuck" and Neu! styles with spellbinding invention and intensity.Who would have thought a flute player could keep a band so creatively active? And who knew how much of a seminal springboard Kraftwerk was? Michael Rother had come from Spirit Of Sound, and he together with Klaus Dinger went on to form Neu!. Eberhard Kranemann also played with Neu! live, and then reinvented himself as Fritz Müller. Houschäng Nejadepour went on to Eiliff and then Guru Guru. -- Cosmic Egg
review[-] by Ned RaggettWhat might have been simply seen as an agreeable enough debut album has since become something of a notorious legend because Kraftwerk, or more accurately the core Hütter/Schneider duo at the heart of the band, simply refuses to acknowledge its existence any more. What's clearly missing from Kraftwerk is the predominance of clipped keyboard melodies that later versions of the band would make their own. Instead, Kraftwerk is an exploratory art rock album with psych roots first and foremost, with Conny Plank's brilliant co-production and engineering skills as important as the band performances. Still, Hütter and Schneider play organ and "electric percussion" -- Hütter's work on the former can especially be appreciated with the extended opening drone moan of the all-over-the-place "Stratovarius," combined with Schneider's eerie violin work. But it's a different kind of combination and exploration, with the key pop sugar (and vocal work) of later years absent in favor of sudden jump cuts of musique concrète noise and circular jamming as prone to sprawl as it is to tight focus. Having never been given an authorized CD re-release, and long since out of print on vinyl, Kraftwerk only came to wider notice again in 1993 as part of the bootleg series that also resulted in the appearance of the early Neu! albums. The connection is important, given that Neu!'s Klaus Dinger is one of the two drummers; the roots of the motorik trance and tripped-out ambient wash of the later band can clearly be heard throughout. "Ruckzuck," with its repetitive flute mantra from Schneider and the initial groove suddenly turned into a stuttering, nervous freakout, is merely one demonstration, as is the steady rise-and-fall of feedback and flute at the end of "Megaherz." As a smart reference, there's an actual picture of a "kraftwerk" -- a power station -- in the gatefold art.
What might have been simply seen as an agreeable enough debut album has since become something of a notorious legend because Kraftwerk, or more accurately the core Hütter/Schneider duo at the heart of the band, simply refuses to acknowledge its existence any more. What's clearly missing from Kraftwerk is the predominance of clipped keyboard melodies that later versions of the band would make their own. Instead, Kraftwerk is an exploratory art rock album with psych roots first and foremost, with Conny Plank's brilliant co-production and engineering skills as important as the band performances. Still, Hütter and Schneider play organ and "electric percussion" -- Hütter's work on the former can especially be appreciated with the extended opening drone moan of the all-over-the-place "Stratovarius," combined with Schneider's eerie violin work. But it's a different kind of combination and exploration, with the key pop sugar (and vocal work) of later years absent in favor of sudden jump cuts of musique concrète noise and circular jamming as prone to sprawl as it is to tight focus. Having never been given an authorized CD re-release, and long since out of print on vinyl, Kraftwerk only came to wider notice again in 1993 as part of the bootleg series that also resulted in the appearance of the early Neu! albums. The connection is important, given that Neu!'s Klaus Dinger is one of the two drummers; the roots of the motorik trance and tripped-out ambient wash of the later band can clearly be heard throughout. "Ruckzuck," with its repetitive flute mantra from Schneider and the initial groove suddenly turned into a stuttering, nervous freakout, is merely one demonstration, as is the steady rise-and-fall of feedback and flute at the end of "Megaherz." As a smart reference, there's an actual picture of a "kraftwerk" -- a power station -- in the gatefold art.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:30 (thirteen years ago)
For those not aware there is a Spotify playlist featuring all the (available) albums from this poll so please SUBSCRIBE and discover lots of great new music!http://open.spotify.com/user/olken2000/playlist/5sdu93N2DjKkDk0NMe6sFHspotify:user:olken2000:playlist:5sdu93N2DjKkDk0NMe6sFH (put into Spotify search bar)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:31 (thirteen years ago)
I actually asked Steve Severin about the use of the swastika and Nazi imagery when he was in Ottawa for the opening of an exhibit of UK punk art (sponsored by the UK govt!) some 13 years ago or so. He was a little uncomfortable but essentially said he had no regrets, making some explanations along the lines of the Siouxsie quote upthread. Iirc, he actually said they were "using it against the National Front".
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:33 (thirteen years ago)
70s was the best decade for music ever partly because of its diversity. No one band could possibly represent it. You'd have to list a hundred bands to properly represent its scope. Not even 500 albums can properly summarize it.
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:37 (thirteen years ago)
I can see how that would work - the freaks co-opting your symbols - but smdh at that Siouxsie quote all the same. xp
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:37 (thirteen years ago)
Kraftwerk I - full album: http://youtu.be/d5IVw35pcqs
― Hellhouse, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:43 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:45 (thirteen years ago)
70s was the best decade for music ever partly because of its diversity. No one band could possibly represent it. You'd have to list a hundred bands to properly represent its scope. Not even 500 albums can properly summarize it.― Fastnbulbous,
― Fastnbulbous,
Very true. But you could say that for most decades. Look at all the amazing jazz records released in the 50s and 60s!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:46 (thirteen years ago)
So have you all got thoughts on the poll so far?
Picked up any new favourites?
Going to check out any new albums in particular?
Or just digging out old faves you've not heard in years but not checking new stuff out (likes balls and aldo think) ?
Given up on anything making the top 120?
What would you like to see miss out?
What do you most want to see in it?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 21:49 (thirteen years ago)
the poll is great so far. i have a put together a list of albums to add to an already massively long list of records i need to hear. it's all an added incentive to give up smoking so i live long enough to get to hear all this music i still need to hear.
as for other polls,
tropicalia poll; yes please.jamaican poll; jah!goth poll (with cure veto); deffo.
― stirmonster, Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:01 (thirteen years ago)
the interesting thing about the '70s is that so many big lasting genres developed or matured during that decade like electronic dance music, punk, metal, reggae, and the early roots of hip-hop.
― wk, Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:03 (thirteen years ago)
maybe because the machinery of the record industry and music journalism was running at it's highest peak at that point?
― wk, Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:04 (thirteen years ago)
stirmonster how many of the albums so far are on your list? (i bet you own a fair few already)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:05 (thirteen years ago)
i'm not sure how many are on my list so far (will wait to the end to work that out) but i guess i have about 120 of the ones that have polled so far. i'm quite surprised as i never really thought i had a huge number of 70s albums.
― stirmonster, Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:14 (thirteen years ago)
I'm not! I bet you have tons more 70s albums that weren't even eligible for this poll too!
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:19 (thirteen years ago)
Where is the optimist hellhouse who still has hopes for some obscure album placing? ;)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:35 (thirteen years ago)
I just got back from my weekend trip and I have a few comments:
1) fastnbulbous that is THE BEST story i've heard in a long time. 2) when i was in iowa i went record shopping and i was pleased to find records (whose covers i recognized instantly from this thread) by ultravox and wishbone ash for $4 each, so I bought them on a whim 3) i'll let you know if i like them or not once i have a chance to listen -- something about listening to the records is way more appealing than listening on spotify so maybe that will help if i was in any way prone to not like them initially
yay 70s
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Sunday, 24 March 2013 22:44 (thirteen years ago)
1) fastnbulbous that is THE BEST story i've heard in a long time.
yeah, that was amazing
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Sunday, 24 March 2013 23:29 (thirteen years ago)
it's like something from a todd solondz movie but bettermaybe now that she's older, the girl who played dawn wiener could be jolene's mom
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Sunday, 24 March 2013 23:34 (thirteen years ago)
OTM
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 24 March 2013 23:42 (thirteen years ago)
Which story? Or do I have to reload the whole thread?
― Mark G, Monday, 25 March 2013 00:02 (thirteen years ago)
This thread still takes forever to load with images turned off (and I'm using quite an up-to-date laptop). I'm not sure why tbh but it really is worse than an Ableton Live set.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 25 March 2013 00:05 (thirteen years ago)
ctrl-F "jolene"
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 25 March 2013 00:08 (thirteen years ago)
well it cant be the images causing it then; so what can it be? Would clearing cookies help?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 00:10 (thirteen years ago)
There's not been any youtube links has there?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 00:11 (thirteen years ago)
embeds I mean
ok i just clicked on show all messages and it only took about 10 seconds max to load fully on this laptop. And I have Spotify and Football Manager open
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 00:13 (thirteen years ago)
If its causing a problem I could start a new thread for the final 120 but that does run the risk of trolls/board lawyers (you know who they are) complaining about 2 threads and what have you .
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 00:15 (thirteen years ago)
Bookmarks people, bookmarks
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 25 March 2013 00:19 (thirteen years ago)
Oh weird, I just loaded the whole thread with zero difficulty now. Not sure what was up before.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 25 March 2013 00:47 (thirteen years ago)
Thanks, Lal..
― Mark G, Monday, 25 March 2013 00:57 (thirteen years ago)
omg @ Fastnbulbous's story
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Monday, 25 March 2013 02:42 (thirteen years ago)
(I found it by searching his most recent posts fyi)
― bride of lecherchaun (Drugs A. Money), Monday, 25 March 2013 02:43 (thirteen years ago)
v. cool trax I’ve discovered/rediscovered so far:
100 Flowers - Contributions: http://youtu.be/aqNY2VfaEX4Ash Ra Tempel - Amboss: http://youtu.be/iTZeaAIDvToBad Brains - You Are a MigraineBad Brains - Black DotsBad Brains - Send You No FlowersBuzzcocks - ESP: http://youtu.be/FxlWiocvX8YFela Kuti - Expensive Shit: http://youtu.be/7ue-4aZhpp0Guru Guru - Girl Call: http://youtu.be/3bIrWEe5ue0Iggy Pop - Mass Production: http://youtu.be/JqhI1w1CwlQJandek - First You Think Your Fortune’s Lovely: http://youtu.be/7tg8-GB4IpsJohn McLaughlin - Devotion: http://youtu.be/W33rzuXYjmQMiles Davis - Moja (Part I): http://youtu.be/WzgBcpwhQNAMX-80 - Crushed Ice: http://youtu.be/iFixC3b4md4MX-80 - Man on the Move: http://youtu.be/7kk653aomEIRaincoats - Off Duty Trip: http://youtu.be/Gry6-VLmO_8Rocket From the Tombs - Raw Power: http://youtu.be/KTHzguE0xDoScreamers - Eva Braun: http://youtu.be/G8wMX9NBCLQSiouxsie and the Banshees - Placebo EffectSiouxsie and the Banshees - Regal ZoneThe Fall - Spectre Vs. RectorTheoretical Girls - Contrary Motion Tonto’s Expanding Head Band - Jetsex: http://youtu.be/w4llwrPziqkTubeway Army - Something’s in the House: http://youtu.be/ZQ204XKxVPY
recommend checking any of these out, though the Jandek, Fall and Theoretical Girls tracks will happily crush any smoove 70s funk/prog/stoner vibe that yr. carefully cultivating in yr. wood-paneled den. also, the 100 Flowers track is from ’83, but I downloaded 100 Years of Pulchritude somewhere between Yeti and Tips Zum Selbstmord while looking f/ postpunk to nom, so it’s currently trapped in the Hills Have Eyes/Interiors montage perpetually unspooling in my 70s backbrain, which is w/e, but it’s great so listen anyway.
(feeling a bit meh on tha funk atm, but looking to unpack more Miles/Fela)
― Hellhouse, Monday, 25 March 2013 03:09 (thirteen years ago)
Best funk albums yet to come imo
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 03:12 (thirteen years ago)
I never thought of it that way but yeah! I wish I could say what Jolene was like when she got older but they moved away to another city less than a year later. She was a cute blonde girl and I imagine was even more of a handful for her mom when she was a teen. Don't remember their last name either.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 03:26 (thirteen years ago)
I'm going to start including some reviews of reviews from this -- Rolling Stone's 500 Worst Reviews of All Time.
On Lester Bangs' review of Black Sabbath which I was unable to find before:
"The whole album is a shuck - despite the murky songtitles and some inane lyrics that sound like Vanilla Fudge paying doggerel tribute to Aleister Crowley, the album has nothing to do with spiritualism, the occult, or anything much except stiff recitations of Cream cliches that sound like the musicians learned them out of a book, grinding on and on with dogged persistence. Vocals are sparse, most of the album being filled with plodding bass lines over which the lead guitar dribbles wooden Claptonisms from the master's tiredest Cream days. They even have discordant jams with bass and guitar reeling like velocitized speedfreaks all over each other's musical perimeters yet never quite finding synch - just like Cream! But worse." (Lester Bangs, 9/17/70 Review) Despite this harsh review, Bangs continued to listen to Black Sabbath, and seems to have gained a new appreciation for the record after the release of Paranoid (which, incidentally, came out one day after this review was published). In the fall of 1971, the staff of Creem magazine moved into a farmhouse near Walled Lake, Michigan. In an article called "Admit It, You Like to Kick Cripples, Too (Especially If You Are One)," published in 1977, Bangs describes his nightly ritual: "pick up a half gallon of Gallo Port, then back to the old farmhouse to consume it while listening to all of Black Sabbath's first three albums in a row. This was my regimen for months." Bangs' 11/25/71 review of Master of Reality was more complimentary of the band: "The question now is not whether we can accept lines as obvious and juvenile as this from a rock & roll record. They should be as palatable to anyone with a memory as the stereotypic two and three-chord structures of the songs. The only criterion is excitement, and Black Sabbath's got it." Today this record is acclaimed as one of the most starkly original LPs of the early '70s. It is intriguing to me that Bangs' primary critique of Black Sabbath is that it is derivative of Cream, echoing Mendelsohn's complaint that Led Zeppelin were ripping off Jeff Beck - and I imagine if RS had been around three years before they would have been complaining that the Yardbirds were copying any number of blues artists. Though Bangs reappraised Black Sabbath in the year following this review, RS continued to slag this album for another quarter of a century. The record was rated one star in the 1979 and 1983 editions of the record guide, in one of the most antagonistic entries in either book. But even as late as 1992 Mark Coleman rated Black Sabbath only two stars. He wrote this brutal appraisal: "Black Sabbath broke new ground with its grave-digging debut album. Stoned-out, dumb, clumsy, soulless, overamplified and ugly: surely rock was sinking to an all-time low with this satanic claptrap...Black Sabbath slogs along at an unbearable pace - like a brontosaurus in a tar pit..." Scott Seward rated Black Sabbath five stars in the 2004 album guide, writing that "from the moment that its first fearsome notes were unleashed on an unsuspecting public it remained one of the unshakeable cornerstones of heavy metal." Black Sabbath was #241 on RS's 500 greatest albums list.
Despite this harsh review, Bangs continued to listen to Black Sabbath, and seems to have gained a new appreciation for the record after the release of Paranoid (which, incidentally, came out one day after this review was published). In the fall of 1971, the staff of Creem magazine moved into a farmhouse near Walled Lake, Michigan. In an article called "Admit It, You Like to Kick Cripples, Too (Especially If You Are One)," published in 1977, Bangs describes his nightly ritual: "pick up a half gallon of Gallo Port, then back to the old farmhouse to consume it while listening to all of Black Sabbath's first three albums in a row. This was my regimen for months." Bangs' 11/25/71 review of Master of Reality was more complimentary of the band: "The question now is not whether we can accept lines as obvious and juvenile as this from a rock & roll record. They should be as palatable to anyone with a memory as the stereotypic two and three-chord structures of the songs. The only criterion is excitement, and Black Sabbath's got it."
Today this record is acclaimed as one of the most starkly original LPs of the early '70s. It is intriguing to me that Bangs' primary critique of Black Sabbath is that it is derivative of Cream, echoing Mendelsohn's complaint that Led Zeppelin were ripping off Jeff Beck - and I imagine if RS had been around three years before they would have been complaining that the Yardbirds were copying any number of blues artists.
Though Bangs reappraised Black Sabbath in the year following this review, RS continued to slag this album for another quarter of a century. The record was rated one star in the 1979 and 1983 editions of the record guide, in one of the most antagonistic entries in either book. But even as late as 1992 Mark Coleman rated Black Sabbath only two stars. He wrote this brutal appraisal: "Black Sabbath broke new ground with its grave-digging debut album. Stoned-out, dumb, clumsy, soulless, overamplified and ugly: surely rock was sinking to an all-time low with this satanic claptrap...Black Sabbath slogs along at an unbearable pace - like a brontosaurus in a tar pit..."
Scott Seward rated Black Sabbath five stars in the 2004 album guide, writing that "from the moment that its first fearsome notes were unleashed on an unsuspecting public it remained one of the unshakeable cornerstones of heavy metal."
Black Sabbath was #241 on RS's 500 greatest albums list.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 06:57 (thirteen years ago)
Suprised The Heat is On was the highest Isley Brothers album, thought 3 + 3 was easily the favourite. Great album though, especially Hope You Feel Better Love.
Kraftwerk are one of my favourite bands ever but I've just never bothered with those first two albums, not sure why.
I was hoping Funkentelechy vs. The Placebo Syndrome would be higher, it's one of my favourite P Funk albums. Really hope that Motor Booty Affair makes it, never really sure how popualar that one is but it's my favourite.
― Kitchen Person, Monday, 25 March 2013 07:47 (thirteen years ago)
Best discoveries from the poll so far:
350. T2 It'll All Work Out In Boomland 218. LEAF HOUND Growers of Mushroom 216. BRAINTICKET Psychonaut 213. KRAAN Kraan200. STRAY Stray
I seem to be really enjoying stuff from early on in the decade which occupies that middle ground between psychedelia/blues rock and prog/proto-metal - not surprising as I voted for the Spirit and Pretty Things albums which both have, as people pointed out, a late-'60s feel (and then there's Led Zeppelin of course).
PS I've noticed in the recap #279 has gone astray (Guru Guru's UFO I think).
― Gavin, Leeds, Monday, 25 March 2013 09:58 (thirteen years ago)
No idea at all whether or not it's going to appear here (it totally should imo), but another great album in that vein is DARK - ROUND THE EDGES. Not on Spotify unfortunately, but here's the first track:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqerq344u1U
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 25 March 2013 11:14 (thirteen years ago)
Another track from it, this one's a lot heavier: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2IJCyobzWnM
― acid in the style of tenpole tudor (NickB), Monday, 25 March 2013 11:16 (thirteen years ago)
Cheers, I'll give that a listen when I get home.
― Gavin, Leeds, Monday, 25 March 2013 11:58 (thirteen years ago)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 14:02 (thirteen years ago)
120. MILES DAVIS Agharta (1848 Points, 18 Votes)RYM: #19 for 1975 , #727 overall | Acclaimed: #2627http://www.silverdisc.com/images/5/5099746789725.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/7ACMLIVtCkZP7EzxzsZISWspotify:album:7ACMLIVtCkZP7EzxzsZISW
This is the most commonly disparaged of Davis's many '70s double-LPs--it's said that Davis was so unhappy with his own playing that he abandoned the release to Teo Macero half-way through. But Miles isn't the hero here--he gives the album to the band, whose virtuosity is the ground of four apparently unstructured segments. Mtume, Reggie Lucas, and especially Michael Henderson provide the variable pulse, with drummer Al Foster moving from body to spirit rhythms in an effortless, guileless show of chops. Sonny Fortune triples on alto, soprano, and flute in the best reed playing on a Davis record in this decade. And guitarist Pete Cosey is simply astonishing--the noises he produces for the second half of side one comprise some of the greatest free improvisations ever heard in a "jazz"-"rock" context. Angry, dissociated, funky, and the best Davis music since Jack Johnson.A -- R. Christgau
review[-] by Thom JurekAlong with its sister recording, Pangaea, Agharta was recorded live in February of 1975 at the Osaka Festival Hall in Japan. Amazingly enough, given that these are arguably Davis' two greatest electric live records, they were recorded the same day. Agharta was performed in the afternoon and Pangaea in the evening. Of the two, Agharta is superior. The band with Davis -- saxophonist Sonny Fortune, guitarists Pete Cosey (lead) and Reggie Lucas (rhythm), bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, and percussionist James Mtume -- was a group who had their roots in the radically streetwise music recorded on 1972's On the Corner, and they are brought to fruition here. The music on Agharta, a total of three tunes spread over two CDs and four LP sides, contains the "Prelude," which clocks in at over a half-hour. There is "Maiysha" from Get up With It and the Agharta "Interlude," which segues into the "Theme From Jack Johnson." The music here is almost totally devoid of melody and harmony, and is steeped into a steamy amalgam of riffs shot through and through with crossing polyrhythms, creating a deep voodoo funk groove for the soloists to inhabit for long periods of time as they solo and interact with one another. Davis' band leading at this time was never more exacting or free. The sense of dynamics created by the stop-start accents and the moods, textures, and colors brought out by this particular interaction of musicians is unparalleled in Davis' live work -- yeah, that includes the Coltrane and Bill Evans bands, but they're like apples and oranges anyway. Driven by the combination of Davis' direction and the soloing of Sonny Fortune and guitarist Pete Cosey, who is as undervalued and underappreciated for his incalculable guitar-slinging gifts as Jimi Hendrix is celebrated for his, and the percussion mania of Mtume, the performance on Agharta is literally almost too much of a good thing to bear. When Cosey starts his solo in the "Prelude" at the 12-minute mark, listeners cannot be prepared for the Hendrixian energy and pure electric whammy-bar weirdness that's about to come splintering out of the speakers. As the band reacts in intensity, the entire proceeding threatens to short out the stereo. These are some of the most screaming notes ever recorded. Luckily, since this is just the first track on the whole package, Davis can bring the tempos down a bit here and there and snake them into spots that I don't think even he anticipated before that afternoon (check the middle of "Maiysha" and the second third of "Jack Johnson" for some truly creepy and beautiful wonders). While Pangaea is awesome as well, there is simply nothing like Agharta in the canon of recorded music. This is the greatest electric funk-rock jazz record ever made -- period.
Along with its sister recording, Pangaea, Agharta was recorded live in February of 1975 at the Osaka Festival Hall in Japan. Amazingly enough, given that these are arguably Davis' two greatest electric live records, they were recorded the same day. Agharta was performed in the afternoon and Pangaea in the evening. Of the two, Agharta is superior. The band with Davis -- saxophonist Sonny Fortune, guitarists Pete Cosey (lead) and Reggie Lucas (rhythm), bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, and percussionist James Mtume -- was a group who had their roots in the radically streetwise music recorded on 1972's On the Corner, and they are brought to fruition here. The music on Agharta, a total of three tunes spread over two CDs and four LP sides, contains the "Prelude," which clocks in at over a half-hour. There is "Maiysha" from Get up With It and the Agharta "Interlude," which segues into the "Theme From Jack Johnson." The music here is almost totally devoid of melody and harmony, and is steeped into a steamy amalgam of riffs shot through and through with crossing polyrhythms, creating a deep voodoo funk groove for the soloists to inhabit for long periods of time as they solo and interact with one another. Davis' band leading at this time was never more exacting or free. The sense of dynamics created by the stop-start accents and the moods, textures, and colors brought out by this particular interaction of musicians is unparalleled in Davis' live work -- yeah, that includes the Coltrane and Bill Evans bands, but they're like apples and oranges anyway. Driven by the combination of Davis' direction and the soloing of Sonny Fortune and guitarist Pete Cosey, who is as undervalued and underappreciated for his incalculable guitar-slinging gifts as Jimi Hendrix is celebrated for his, and the percussion mania of Mtume, the performance on Agharta is literally almost too much of a good thing to bear. When Cosey starts his solo in the "Prelude" at the 12-minute mark, listeners cannot be prepared for the Hendrixian energy and pure electric whammy-bar weirdness that's about to come splintering out of the speakers. As the band reacts in intensity, the entire proceeding threatens to short out the stereo. These are some of the most screaming notes ever recorded. Luckily, since this is just the first track on the whole package, Davis can bring the tempos down a bit here and there and snake them into spots that I don't think even he anticipated before that afternoon (check the middle of "Maiysha" and the second third of "Jack Johnson" for some truly creepy and beautiful wonders). While Pangaea is awesome as well, there is simply nothing like Agharta in the canon of recorded music. This is the greatest electric funk-rock jazz record ever made -- period.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 14:04 (thirteen years ago)
Agharta fuckin' rules.
― emil.y, Monday, 25 March 2013 14:07 (thirteen years ago)
I was thinking of starting Phil Freeman's book (a regular in Rolling Metal, not sure if he's been paying attention to this), Runnin' The Voodoo Down, about Miles' electric period this week. There were a bunch of copies prominently displayed at Jazz Record Mart.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 14:18 (thirteen years ago)
for those interested VOTE FOR MILES - ILM artist poll #32, Miles Davis - Results Thread
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 14:21 (thirteen years ago)
119. CURTIS MAYFIELD Superfly (1852 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #7 for 1972 , #109 overall | Acclaimed: #145 | RS: #69http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kkv_hMwQccA/TrLog3D6P_I/AAAAAAAAI-k/6XXTwJV0iC4/s1600/front.jpg
I'm no respecter of soundtracks, but I can count--this offers seven new songs (as many as his previous LP) plus two self-sustaining instrumentals. It's not epochal, but it comes close--maybe Mayfield writes tougher when the subject is imposed from outside than when he's free to work out of his own spacious head. Like the standard-setting "Freddie's Dead," these songs speak for (and to) the ghetto's victims rather than its achievers (cf. "The Other Side of Town," on Curtis), transmitting bleak lyrics through uncompromisingly vivacious music. Message: both candor and rhythm are essential to our survival. A- -- R. ChristgauThis soundtrack to the flash and clever Superfly is as pleasing and pretty in your living room as it is mingled with the images that it aurally represents. In fact the anti-drug message on the record is far stronger and more definite than in the film, which was diluted by schizoid cross purposes. Superfly, the film, glamorizes machismo-cocaine consciousness while making a political moralization about the process that keeps drugs illegal yet sees that they are supplied in quantity to the ghetto. The only way that black political consciousness is treated is to make it seem impotent and trivial.Yet the implied "plot" in Curtis Mayfield's music and lyrics closely follows the line of the film; each song is readily identifiable with various scenes; the many attitudes and poses that Curtis adopts in his music, whether it be the tough-yet-sensitive persona or a sort of narrative third person, all point to rejection of dope control and self-liberation, the most positive themes of what will be a heavily influential film.But the greatest quality of any soundtrack is that it can stand alone. Superfly is not only a superior, imaginative soundtrack, but fine funky music as well and the best of Curtis Mayfield's four albums made since he left the Impressions since the "Gypsy Woman" days. The Mayfield-Pate team dipped into three distinct musical satchels to pull out this lovely and energetic song cycle -- the established Shaft system of dramatic, heaving chords and souped-up, insectine guitar and synthesizer chops by Isaac Hayes; the lyrical power of the song style and orchestration of Marvin Gaye and David Van dePitte; and, certainly not least, the amazing emotive skill of Curtis Mayfield, whose technique is honed and carried to strange extremes. "Pusherman," the major vocal theme of the film, identifying the protagonist ("a man of odd circumstance, a victim of ghetto demands"), is almost scary and perverse, given Curtis' manner: He kisses the word "pusherman" rather than sings it. The implications are so heavy that this truly amazing song, with its metallic percussion and hypnotic, drugged tone, couldn't possibly be released as a single. The more conservative "Freddie's Dead," which deals with the demise of a sad fat stooge, was doled out instead to a faunching public and is now at the top of everyone's Hot Hundred."Little Child Runnin' Wild" sets the tone of the whole record -- episodic, tragic, hungry and telling tales of psychic misery. The story is that the coke dealer wants to split the scene, leave it clean and is all pent up with conflicts of values. Mayfield's soothing falsetto purr transforms into an anxious cry during climactic moments in the song/stories -- he is a tremendous vocal actor: "Pusherman," "Freddie's Dead" and "Eddie You Should Know Better" are crawling with tension; "Nothing On Me" and "Superfly" are triumphant and wailing, and "Give Me Your Love" is fine accompaniment for the slippery bathtub-fuck scene that makes the whole picture worthwhile for many of its patrons. The moral is that ol' Superfly is still badass stuff even if the cops are behind it, and also that this record is currently selling as well as good coke and deserves to do so. -- Bob Donat, RSHe fleshes out his concerns about drugs unraveling black solidarity, first expressed in the tune “Stone Junkie” he performed that winter night in January ’71. The nursery rhyme style of “Pusherman” is an early influence on hip-hop, while the full orchestration accentuates the drama. My mother had the album and the rap was so effective that I had memorized it when I was five years old. I remember in school we were allowed to bring in records and sing along if we want. That’s right, groundbreaking karaoke in 1974, yo. I played “Pusherman.” “I’m your mamma, I’m your daddy / I’m that n***a in the alley / I’m your doctor, when in need / Want some coke, have some weed…” Imagine the teacher leaping for the record player in slo-mo, mouthing the word, “noooooooo.” I was really upset that I was interrupted before I could get to the best part, “Ain’t i clean, bad machine / Super cool, super mean / Feelin’ good, for the man / Superfly, here i stand / Secret stash, heavy bread / Baddest bitches, in the bed.” I didn’t know what the words meant. My mother had to explain to the school that no, I didn’t borrow the record with her permission and no, it doesn’t glorify drugs and pimps, it’s just urban realism. Curtis was the real deal alright. Rather than sermonizing, he just provided the harsh details of reality and let you decide. Superfly’s influence was huge, inspiring dozens of copycats. But none could compare to this masterpiece. -- Fastnbulbous
This soundtrack to the flash and clever Superfly is as pleasing and pretty in your living room as it is mingled with the images that it aurally represents. In fact the anti-drug message on the record is far stronger and more definite than in the film, which was diluted by schizoid cross purposes. Superfly, the film, glamorizes machismo-cocaine consciousness while making a political moralization about the process that keeps drugs illegal yet sees that they are supplied in quantity to the ghetto. The only way that black political consciousness is treated is to make it seem impotent and trivial.
Yet the implied "plot" in Curtis Mayfield's music and lyrics closely follows the line of the film; each song is readily identifiable with various scenes; the many attitudes and poses that Curtis adopts in his music, whether it be the tough-yet-sensitive persona or a sort of narrative third person, all point to rejection of dope control and self-liberation, the most positive themes of what will be a heavily influential film.
But the greatest quality of any soundtrack is that it can stand alone. Superfly is not only a superior, imaginative soundtrack, but fine funky music as well and the best of Curtis Mayfield's four albums made since he left the Impressions since the "Gypsy Woman" days. The Mayfield-Pate team dipped into three distinct musical satchels to pull out this lovely and energetic song cycle -- the established Shaft system of dramatic, heaving chords and souped-up, insectine guitar and synthesizer chops by Isaac Hayes; the lyrical power of the song style and orchestration of Marvin Gaye and David Van dePitte; and, certainly not least, the amazing emotive skill of Curtis Mayfield, whose technique is honed and carried to strange extremes. "Pusherman," the major vocal theme of the film, identifying the protagonist ("a man of odd circumstance, a victim of ghetto demands"), is almost scary and perverse, given Curtis' manner: He kisses the word "pusherman" rather than sings it. The implications are so heavy that this truly amazing song, with its metallic percussion and hypnotic, drugged tone, couldn't possibly be released as a single. The more conservative "Freddie's Dead," which deals with the demise of a sad fat stooge, was doled out instead to a faunching public and is now at the top of everyone's Hot Hundred.
"Little Child Runnin' Wild" sets the tone of the whole record -- episodic, tragic, hungry and telling tales of psychic misery. The story is that the coke dealer wants to split the scene, leave it clean and is all pent up with conflicts of values. Mayfield's soothing falsetto purr transforms into an anxious cry during climactic moments in the song/stories -- he is a tremendous vocal actor: "Pusherman," "Freddie's Dead" and "Eddie You Should Know Better" are crawling with tension; "Nothing On Me" and "Superfly" are triumphant and wailing, and "Give Me Your Love" is fine accompaniment for the slippery bathtub-fuck scene that makes the whole picture worthwhile for many of its patrons. The moral is that ol' Superfly is still badass stuff even if the cops are behind it, and also that this record is currently selling as well as good coke and deserves to do so. -- Bob Donat, RS
He fleshes out his concerns about drugs unraveling black solidarity, first expressed in the tune “Stone Junkie” he performed that winter night in January ’71. The nursery rhyme style of “Pusherman” is an early influence on hip-hop, while the full orchestration accentuates the drama. My mother had the album and the rap was so effective that I had memorized it when I was five years old. I remember in school we were allowed to bring in records and sing along if we want. That’s right, groundbreaking karaoke in 1974, yo. I played “Pusherman.” “I’m your mamma, I’m your daddy / I’m that n***a in the alley / I’m your doctor, when in need / Want some coke, have some weed…” Imagine the teacher leaping for the record player in slo-mo, mouthing the word, “noooooooo.” I was really upset that I was interrupted before I could get to the best part, “Ain’t i clean, bad machine / Super cool, super mean / Feelin’ good, for the man / Superfly, here i stand / Secret stash, heavy bread / Baddest bitches, in the bed.” I didn’t know what the words meant. My mother had to explain to the school that no, I didn’t borrow the record with her permission and no, it doesn’t glorify drugs and pimps, it’s just urban realism. Curtis was the real deal alright. Rather than sermonizing, he just provided the harsh details of reality and let you decide. Superfly’s influence was huge, inspiring dozens of copycats. But none could compare to this masterpiece. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by John BushThe choice of Curtis Mayfield to score the blaxploitation film Super Fly was an inspired one. No other artist in popular music knew so well, and expressed through his music so naturally, the shades of gray inherent in contemporary inner-city life. His debut solo album, 1970's Curtis, had shown in vivid colors that the '60s optimist (author of the civil-rights anthems "Keep On Pushing" and "People Get Ready") had added a layer of subtlety to his material; appearing on the same LP as the positive and issue-oriented "Move On Up" was an apocalyptic piece of brimstone funk titled "(Don't Worry) If There's a Hell Below, We're All Going to Go." For Super Fly, Mayfield wisely avoids celebrating the wheeling-and-dealing themes present in the movie, or exploiting them, instead using each song to focus on a different aspect of what he saw as a plague on America's streets. He also steers away from explicit moralizing; through his songs, Mayfield simply tells it like it is (for the characters in the film as in real life), with any lessons learned the result of his vibrant storytelling and knack of getting inside the heads of the characters. "Freddie's Dead," one of the album's signature pieces, tells the story of one of the film's main casualties, a good-hearted yet weak-willed man caught up in the life of a pusher, and devastatingly portrays the indifference of those who witness or hear about it. "Pusherman" masterfully uses the metaphor of drug dealer as businessman, with the drug game, by extension, just another way to make a living in a tough situation, while the title track equates hustling with gambling ("The game he plays he plays for keeps/hustlin' times and ghetto streets/tryin' ta get over"). Ironically, the sound of Super Fly positively overwhelmed its lyrical finesse. A melange of deep, dark grooves, trademarked wah-wah guitar, and stinging brass, Super Fly ignited an entire genre of music, the blaxploitation soundtrack, and influenced everyone from soul singers to television-music composers for decades to come. It stands alongside Saturday Night Fever and Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex Pistols as one of the most vivid touchstones of '70s pop music.
The choice of Curtis Mayfield to score the blaxploitation film Super Fly was an inspired one. No other artist in popular music knew so well, and expressed through his music so naturally, the shades of gray inherent in contemporary inner-city life. His debut solo album, 1970's Curtis, had shown in vivid colors that the '60s optimist (author of the civil-rights anthems "Keep On Pushing" and "People Get Ready") had added a layer of subtlety to his material; appearing on the same LP as the positive and issue-oriented "Move On Up" was an apocalyptic piece of brimstone funk titled "(Don't Worry) If There's a Hell Below, We're All Going to Go." For Super Fly, Mayfield wisely avoids celebrating the wheeling-and-dealing themes present in the movie, or exploiting them, instead using each song to focus on a different aspect of what he saw as a plague on America's streets. He also steers away from explicit moralizing; through his songs, Mayfield simply tells it like it is (for the characters in the film as in real life), with any lessons learned the result of his vibrant storytelling and knack of getting inside the heads of the characters. "Freddie's Dead," one of the album's signature pieces, tells the story of one of the film's main casualties, a good-hearted yet weak-willed man caught up in the life of a pusher, and devastatingly portrays the indifference of those who witness or hear about it. "Pusherman" masterfully uses the metaphor of drug dealer as businessman, with the drug game, by extension, just another way to make a living in a tough situation, while the title track equates hustling with gambling ("The game he plays he plays for keeps/hustlin' times and ghetto streets/tryin' ta get over"). Ironically, the sound of Super Fly positively overwhelmed its lyrical finesse. A melange of deep, dark grooves, trademarked wah-wah guitar, and stinging brass, Super Fly ignited an entire genre of music, the blaxploitation soundtrack, and influenced everyone from soul singers to television-music composers for decades to come. It stands alongside Saturday Night Fever and Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex Pistols as one of the most vivid touchstones of '70s pop music.
118. BIG STAR #1 Record (1853 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #25 for 1972 , #625 overall | Acclaimed: #465 | RS: #438https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQUIn44mGA-RGz8mbBx8dyvVPqO09KEAUsquwxZn9WLk4uA6nY6eQhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7c7fb4wBhQplfee6jWl4Okspotify:album:7c7fb4wBhQplfee6jWl4Ok
Alex Chilton's voice is changing. When he was a teenage Box Top, his deep, soulful, bullfrog whopper was the biggest freak of nature since Stevie Winwood sang "I'm a Man," but now that he's formed his own group he gets to be an adolescent, complete with adenoidal quaver. Appropriately, the music tends toward the teen as well, but that provides brand new thrills. Special attraction: a fantasy about India with gin-and-tonic in it. B+ -- R. ChristgauIn the late Sixties, a Memphis teenager named Alex Chilton won moderate fame and fortune as the lead singer for a sometimes inspired, sometimes insipid recording unit known as the Box Tops. The group was a vehicle for the ideas of producer-writer Dan Penn, and Chilton's raspy, young punk voice was the focal point. After several erratic albums and a couple of downright classic singles, "The Letter" and "Cry Like a Baby," Alex tired of being just a mouthpiece. The final Box Tops LP,Dimensions, was a fairly successful attempt at being more than just a singles-making band (although, ironically, two well-made and moderately successful singers, "Soul Deep" and "Sweet Cream Ladies," were drawn from it). But that was merely a last fling; the Box Tops were finished, and Alex Chilton, now writing songs and feeling rather embarrassed about his Top 40 credentials, was on the move. He cleared his throat, packed his guitar, and headed for New York City. When he came to realize that picking and starving in New York wasn't necessarily on a higher karmic level than cutting slick singles in Memphis, Alex headed back home to reconcile his two musical stages and to see what he could get together.What he got together was Big Star, and Big Star is really something. The group was built around Chilton and fellow writer-singer Christopher Bell. Andy Hummel and Jody Stephens got on bass and drums, respectively, and Big Star found a gracious and competent local producer named John Fry, who, conveniently, had both a studio and a label of his own.No. 1 Record isn't revolutionary -- the group works within the well-defined forms -- it's just exceptionally good. There's not a trace of Memphis soul in Big Star: The group seems to have used the California bands of the mid-Sixties -- primarily the Byrds and Moby Grape -- as models, but there's a brightness on the uptempo tunes that seems Beatles-inspired. Parallels are Badfinger and Raspberries, I guess, but Big Star shows more depth and consistency than either of those. A closer parallel is Todd Rundgren, who's equally adept at evoking the Beatles, California rock, and 1965, but even Rundgren hasn't made a whole album as impressive as this one.The first side is dominated by rock & roll while the second becomes increasingly reflective and acoustic as it winds down. In both styles, the guitar sound is sharp-edged and full; even the prettiest tunes have tension and subtle energy to them, and the rockers reverberate with power. The rock & roll tracks can be seen as a succession of imaginative guitar and vocal ideas, but "When My Baby's Beside Me," "Feel," "Don't Lie to Me" and the rest move so smoothly that you have to be technique-oriented to give pieces conscious attention. It's on the slower songs that the influences are more noticeable. The oddly titled "Ballad of El Goodo," with modal harmonies and a great McGuinn-style vocal by Chilton, may be the best song here. The even more oddly titled "ST100/6" and "Try Again" sound like the tranquil Grape of "8:05" and Sitting by the Window," dominated as they are by weary harmonies. And Chilton's unaffected vocal style comes across to best advantage on the quietest tunes, "Sunrise," "Give Me Another Chance" (this one really reinforces the Rundgren parallel), and "Thirteen," a wistful, funny remembrance of junior high.All the songs I've mentioned carry the Bell-Chilton credit line and all of them are fine. The only unsuccessful track is "The India Song," and that was written by Hummel; it just doesn't fit with the rest of the music. But 10 out of 11 is practically unheard of. No. 1 Record is one of the sleepers of 1972. Well, you've done it, Alex: Your Big Star record even cuts The Box Tops' Super Hits. -- Bud Scoppa, RSClassicist, romantic, anglophile pop was what doomed Memphis quartet Big Star offered, coining both the power-pop genre and the associated curse of cult obscurity. Big Star were dominated by the songwriting duo of Alex Chilton and Chris Bell; Chilton had topped the charts aged 16, fronting The Box Tops for blue-eyed soul classic "The Letter." Bell fronted Ice Water, who also featured drummer Jody Stephens and bassist Andy Hummell, re-christening themselves Big Star upon Chilton's arrival, after a nearby supermarket.Recorded in local Ardent Studios, the band's swiftly recorded debut betrays not a drip of Southern sweat; in its place remains pristine pop (the nobly heroic "Ballad Of El Goodo"), sunshine harmonies ("When My Baby's Beside Me"), and a most unvarnished and affecting sense of heartbreak and longing, pervading most of the second side and peaking on the distraught "Try Again."Big Star's eerie and idiosyncratic recreation of a more innocent age of pop was out of time and out of place; Ardent, a subsidiary of Stax, had no idea of how to market these harmonious white boys, and the album stalled. This jolt of failure critically wounded the band, Bell leaving before their second album, Radio City, and only haunting their bleak swansong Sister Lovers in spirit.So despite its generous soul, its delight in the details, its effortless melodies, No. 1 Record was, in stark terms, anything but. But its influence is deep and wide, felt in bands like R.E.M., Teenage Fanclub, The Posies -- in fact, anyone with a sweet, sad song left to sing. -- Stevie Chick, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
In the late Sixties, a Memphis teenager named Alex Chilton won moderate fame and fortune as the lead singer for a sometimes inspired, sometimes insipid recording unit known as the Box Tops. The group was a vehicle for the ideas of producer-writer Dan Penn, and Chilton's raspy, young punk voice was the focal point. After several erratic albums and a couple of downright classic singles, "The Letter" and "Cry Like a Baby," Alex tired of being just a mouthpiece. The final Box Tops LP,Dimensions, was a fairly successful attempt at being more than just a singles-making band (although, ironically, two well-made and moderately successful singers, "Soul Deep" and "Sweet Cream Ladies," were drawn from it). But that was merely a last fling; the Box Tops were finished, and Alex Chilton, now writing songs and feeling rather embarrassed about his Top 40 credentials, was on the move. He cleared his throat, packed his guitar, and headed for New York City. When he came to realize that picking and starving in New York wasn't necessarily on a higher karmic level than cutting slick singles in Memphis, Alex headed back home to reconcile his two musical stages and to see what he could get together.
What he got together was Big Star, and Big Star is really something. The group was built around Chilton and fellow writer-singer Christopher Bell. Andy Hummel and Jody Stephens got on bass and drums, respectively, and Big Star found a gracious and competent local producer named John Fry, who, conveniently, had both a studio and a label of his own.
No. 1 Record isn't revolutionary -- the group works within the well-defined forms -- it's just exceptionally good. There's not a trace of Memphis soul in Big Star: The group seems to have used the California bands of the mid-Sixties -- primarily the Byrds and Moby Grape -- as models, but there's a brightness on the uptempo tunes that seems Beatles-inspired. Parallels are Badfinger and Raspberries, I guess, but Big Star shows more depth and consistency than either of those. A closer parallel is Todd Rundgren, who's equally adept at evoking the Beatles, California rock, and 1965, but even Rundgren hasn't made a whole album as impressive as this one.
The first side is dominated by rock & roll while the second becomes increasingly reflective and acoustic as it winds down. In both styles, the guitar sound is sharp-edged and full; even the prettiest tunes have tension and subtle energy to them, and the rockers reverberate with power. The rock & roll tracks can be seen as a succession of imaginative guitar and vocal ideas, but "When My Baby's Beside Me," "Feel," "Don't Lie to Me" and the rest move so smoothly that you have to be technique-oriented to give pieces conscious attention. It's on the slower songs that the influences are more noticeable. The oddly titled "Ballad of El Goodo," with modal harmonies and a great McGuinn-style vocal by Chilton, may be the best song here. The even more oddly titled "ST100/6" and "Try Again" sound like the tranquil Grape of "8:05" and Sitting by the Window," dominated as they are by weary harmonies. And Chilton's unaffected vocal style comes across to best advantage on the quietest tunes, "Sunrise," "Give Me Another Chance" (this one really reinforces the Rundgren parallel), and "Thirteen," a wistful, funny remembrance of junior high.
All the songs I've mentioned carry the Bell-Chilton credit line and all of them are fine. The only unsuccessful track is "The India Song," and that was written by Hummel; it just doesn't fit with the rest of the music. But 10 out of 11 is practically unheard of. No. 1 Record is one of the sleepers of 1972. Well, you've done it, Alex: Your Big Star record even cuts The Box Tops' Super Hits. -- Bud Scoppa, RS
Classicist, romantic, anglophile pop was what doomed Memphis quartet Big Star offered, coining both the power-pop genre and the associated curse of cult obscurity. Big Star were dominated by the songwriting duo of Alex Chilton and Chris Bell; Chilton had topped the charts aged 16, fronting The Box Tops for blue-eyed soul classic "The Letter." Bell fronted Ice Water, who also featured drummer Jody Stephens and bassist Andy Hummell, re-christening themselves Big Star upon Chilton's arrival, after a nearby supermarket.
Recorded in local Ardent Studios, the band's swiftly recorded debut betrays not a drip of Southern sweat; in its place remains pristine pop (the nobly heroic "Ballad Of El Goodo"), sunshine harmonies ("When My Baby's Beside Me"), and a most unvarnished and affecting sense of heartbreak and longing, pervading most of the second side and peaking on the distraught "Try Again."
Big Star's eerie and idiosyncratic recreation of a more innocent age of pop was out of time and out of place; Ardent, a subsidiary of Stax, had no idea of how to market these harmonious white boys, and the album stalled. This jolt of failure critically wounded the band, Bell leaving before their second album, Radio City, and only haunting their bleak swansong Sister Lovers in spirit.
So despite its generous soul, its delight in the details, its effortless melodies, No. 1 Record was, in stark terms, anything but. But its influence is deep and wide, felt in bands like R.E.M., Teenage Fanclub, The Posies -- in fact, anyone with a sweet, sad song left to sing. -- Stevie Chick, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
reviewby William RuhlmannThe problem with coming in late on an artwork lauded as "influential" is that you've probably encountered the work it influenced first, so its truly innovative qualities are lost. Thus, if you are hearing Big Star's debut album for the first time decades after its release (as, inevitably, most people must), you may be reminded of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers or R.E.M., who came after -- that is, if you don't think of the Byrds and the Beatles, circa 1965. What was remarkable about #1 Record in 1972 was that nobody except Big Star (and maybe Badfinger and the Raspberries) wanted to sound like this -- simple, light pop with sweet harmonies and jangly guitars. Since then, dozens of bands have rediscovered those pleasures. But in a way, that's an advantage because, whatever freshness is lost across the years, Big Star's craft is only confirmed. These are sturdy songs, feelingly performed, and once you get beyond the style to the content, you'll still be impressed.
The problem with coming in late on an artwork lauded as "influential" is that you've probably encountered the work it influenced first, so its truly innovative qualities are lost. Thus, if you are hearing Big Star's debut album for the first time decades after its release (as, inevitably, most people must), you may be reminded of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers or R.E.M., who came after -- that is, if you don't think of the Byrds and the Beatles, circa 1965. What was remarkable about #1 Record in 1972 was that nobody except Big Star (and maybe Badfinger and the Raspberries) wanted to sound like this -- simple, light pop with sweet harmonies and jangly guitars. Since then, dozens of bands have rediscovered those pleasures. But in a way, that's an advantage because, whatever freshness is lost across the years, Big Star's craft is only confirmed. These are sturdy songs, feelingly performed, and once you get beyond the style to the content, you'll still be impressed.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 14:33 (thirteen years ago)
AG - what's the actual count for entry 150? I see a 1 at #1, but I know I voted for it, albeit lower...
― BlackIronPrison, Monday, 25 March 2013 14:49 (thirteen years ago)
Sister Lovers never got nominated, right? Thats a huge bad on my part since it wdve done v well on my ballot xp
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 15:23 (thirteen years ago)
117. T. REX Electric Warrior (1870 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #17 for 1971 , #252 overall | Acclaimed: #154 | RS: #160 | Pitchfork: #20http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3SEhgAdgcc/TMYywLit-PI/AAAAAAAABCQ/c0U6rVjf2Xo/s1600/11jodi0.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/6hPt04r4KtO00nwhdGJ8Oxspotify:album:6hPt04r4KtO00nwhdGJ8Ox
As an acoustic warrior, back when he spelled out his group's first name and did concept albums about unicorns, Marc Bolan was considered "progressive," which meant he was as foolish as Donovan but not as famous. A freak hit turned him into a singer of rhythmic fairy tales for British pre-pubes, exactly what he was always suited for, and the great "Bang a Gong" extends his subject matter into the rock myth itself, which has its limits but sure beats unicorns. Now if he'd only recycle a few more pop readymades I could stop complaining about fey. B -- R. ChristgauSo elegant, so fey (check the cover of T. Rex, his first on Reprise), Marc Bolan is a stripling, a sylph. Too old to be innocent in today's world, though his years number 23, he plays to the post-J.F.K. set, yet with enough decadence and sarcasm for any war baby to hum along. He's been rewarded with three No. One singles in England, where their sense of youth is less pristine (and besides, how old is the average singles consumer anyway?).Marc is one of the eternally precocious, fated to live outside the world of adults forever. But he is an outsider in another sense, too. Back when T. Rex was known as Tyrannosaurus Rex, Marc sang of and inhabited a medieval world of wizards and unicorns. Now his subject and medium is rock 'n' roll, and his outsider's stance (chronologically young because historically young) enables him to see things with a special clarity and vision. Marc's lyrics still sound like nursery rhymes, and he sings with a puckish quaver, but he now plays a mean lead guitar.What Marc seems to be saying on Electric Warrior is that rock is ultimately as quaint as wizards and unicorns, and finally, as defunct. It is a self-contained, completed form, with T. Rex and Black Sabbath, both parodists in their own way, its parentheses. His targets are your common rock & roll cliches, as well as your common pseudo-poetic, pseudo-philosophical rock & roll cliches. E.g. "Monolith," or Stanley Kubrick meets the Duke of Earl: "And dressed as you are girl/In your fashions of fate/Baby it's too late," or "And lost like a lion/In the canyons of smoke/Girl it's no joke.""Jeepster," which sounds a lot like Carl Perkins, carries the great tradition of Chuck Berry and Beach Boys car songs one step further: "Just like a car/You're pleasing to behold/I'll call you Jaguar/If I may be so bold," while several of Bolan's specific images are Dylan-derived, like "society's ditch," "burning up your feet," "Egyptian ruby," and "Mountings of the moon/Remind me of my spoon.""Lean Woman Blues," a takeoff on blues-rock, begins as Marc yells to the band, "One, two, buckle my shoe," and then goes on to encounter wrong notes, chaotic over-dubbings, distorting guitar, and an extraneous "And I'm Blue" tagged on at the end of every stanza.In "The Motivator," Marc considers the aesthetics of government ("I love the velvet hat/You know the one that caused a revolution"), but saves his most profound convictions on you-know-what revolution for "Rip-Off":In the moonlightFighting with the nightIt's a rip-offKissing all the slainI'm bleeding in the rainIt's a rip-offSuch a rip-off...etc., etc., for 16 stanzas.Marc's voice, appropriately, is Buddy Holly at several removes; Buddy, notwithstanding his genius, being, via Tommy Roe, the patron saint of bubblegum. At the same time, the combination of an effete vocal and an aggressive back-up is reminiscent of the early Ray Davies and the Dylan of Blonde on Blonde.All of which goes to show that with Electric Warrior, Marc Bolan establishes himself as the heaviest rocker under 5'4" in the world today. -- Ben Gerson, RSWell, this is the group rock and roll fans. I feel it is important to impress on you the ingenuity of these two young Englishmen who have somehow, ingeniously, constructed a rock album that will enter the annals of rock history as one of the most original sounding, unusual sounding, obtusely, cleverly and creatively written albums ever. The sound could only be accurately pegged as "mystic boogie." Marc Bolan and Mickey Finn are the two dinosaurs involved here. Bolan does all the writing, singing, and plays guitar. Finn takes care of the percussion end of things. The rhythms this unique duo create, with the help of various session musicians (who play saxophone, flugelhorn, bass and drums) are devastating.This is the group's second album on the Reprise label and fifth album together. They were originally on Fly Records in London and later on Blue Thumb where they came out with two albums: Unicorn and Beard of Stars. Tony Visconti has produced all the albums and on Electric Warrior he has coupled the T. Rex sound with an orchestral accompaniment: strings, cellos, bowed string basses which creates a sound so penetrating as to be awesome. But the paramount beauty of T. Rex lies in Bolan's singing and writing. His voice is hauntingly trebly, weird to the extent of being quite beautiful. His style is so unique as to resemble something non-human -- cosmically science fictive if you will. His writing draws upon stunning allusions and brilliant juxtapositions in words and thoughts. There is a duality to what he writes/sings/plays in that a listener can cruise along with the throbbing electric bass and resonant, moody drumming, or he can pay close attention to the lyric and reap a harvest of new insight from what Bolan has to say. At first his lyrics appear nonsensical but, upon a few listenings, one begins to understand the clever, highly individualistic description of reality the writer wants to convey. Bolan's rhyme schemes and word choices are solely unlike anything I have ever heard in rock and roll. He creates his very own special approach to rock that only few, highly creative artists have done. It is almost as though Bolan managed to establish a concept so "foreign" to standard rock and roll while still employing the artifice of the musical genre. He is avante-garde but in very captivating, understandable and inviting way."Jeepster," "Mambo Sun," "Cosmic Dancer," "Girl" and "Lean Woman Blues" highlight the eleven cuts on this album with lyrics that are inescapable."Jeepster": "You move so fine, with bones so fair, you've got the universereclining in your hair... Girl I'm just a Jeepster for your love...""Cosmic Dancer": "I danced with myself right out the womb, Is it strange todance so soon?... What's it like to be a loon? I'd liken it to a balloon...""Mambo Sun": "Beneath the bebop moon I want to croon with you. Beneaththe mambo sun, I want to be the one for you."There you have a sampling, but without the music integrating with the words, mere reading does not do the group justice. With better promotion and a few American tours under their belts, T. Rex are, without escape, destined to become the very next supergroup of our heretofore doggerel-ridden rock and roll "universe." -- Jay Ehler, Phonograph RecordMarc Bolan is one of the most compelling characters in rock history. With his updated Byronic style and delightfully obscure brand of hippy mysticism, he was never less than audacious. While his career featured some maddeningly uneven output (as well as a bestelling book of poetry entitled The Warlock Of Love), its pinnacle was Electric Warrior. And, like all of his work, it was packed with surprises.T. Rex had already achieved success in the UK -- however, Bolan wanted to reach the unconverted across the Atlantic. Hitting the road with new members Steve Currie on bass, and drummer Bill Legend abetting percussionist Mickey Finn, the band began cutting tracks on the fly in London, New York, and Los Angeles. While singles released at the time hinted at a bolder sound for the group, the full wonder of Electric Warrior only became clear on its release.Its cover art epitomizes the dangerous promise of rock's power, with Bolan wielding an electric weapon before a munitions dump of amplifiers. However, instead of blasting the listener with a metal onslaught when the needle hits the groove ...Warrior begins with a sultry guitar chug, easy backbeat, and an invitation to croon "beneath the bebop moon" on "Mambo Sun." The wide-eyed acoustic strum of "Cosmic Dancer" follows, with its rich string arrangement. So goes the record, by turns raucously salacious and meditatively romantic. While single "Bang A Gong (Get It On)" would reach the U.S. Top Ten, T. Rex never achieved Bolan's large ambition of international superstardom -- at least not in his lifetime. -- Tim Sheridan, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die,
So elegant, so fey (check the cover of T. Rex, his first on Reprise), Marc Bolan is a stripling, a sylph. Too old to be innocent in today's world, though his years number 23, he plays to the post-J.F.K. set, yet with enough decadence and sarcasm for any war baby to hum along. He's been rewarded with three No. One singles in England, where their sense of youth is less pristine (and besides, how old is the average singles consumer anyway?).
Marc is one of the eternally precocious, fated to live outside the world of adults forever. But he is an outsider in another sense, too. Back when T. Rex was known as Tyrannosaurus Rex, Marc sang of and inhabited a medieval world of wizards and unicorns. Now his subject and medium is rock 'n' roll, and his outsider's stance (chronologically young because historically young) enables him to see things with a special clarity and vision. Marc's lyrics still sound like nursery rhymes, and he sings with a puckish quaver, but he now plays a mean lead guitar.
What Marc seems to be saying on Electric Warrior is that rock is ultimately as quaint as wizards and unicorns, and finally, as defunct. It is a self-contained, completed form, with T. Rex and Black Sabbath, both parodists in their own way, its parentheses. His targets are your common rock & roll cliches, as well as your common pseudo-poetic, pseudo-philosophical rock & roll cliches. E.g. "Monolith," or Stanley Kubrick meets the Duke of Earl: "And dressed as you are girl/In your fashions of fate/Baby it's too late," or "And lost like a lion/In the canyons of smoke/Girl it's no joke.""Jeepster," which sounds a lot like Carl Perkins, carries the great tradition of Chuck Berry and Beach Boys car songs one step further: "Just like a car/You're pleasing to behold/I'll call you Jaguar/If I may be so bold," while several of Bolan's specific images are Dylan-derived, like "society's ditch," "burning up your feet," "Egyptian ruby," and "Mountings of the moon/Remind me of my spoon."
"Lean Woman Blues," a takeoff on blues-rock, begins as Marc yells to the band, "One, two, buckle my shoe," and then goes on to encounter wrong notes, chaotic over-dubbings, distorting guitar, and an extraneous "And I'm Blue" tagged on at the end of every stanza.
In "The Motivator," Marc considers the aesthetics of government ("I love the velvet hat/You know the one that caused a revolution"), but saves his most profound convictions on you-know-what revolution for "Rip-Off":
In the moonlightFighting with the nightIt's a rip-offKissing all the slainI'm bleeding in the rainIt's a rip-offSuch a rip-off...etc., etc., for 16 stanzas.
Marc's voice, appropriately, is Buddy Holly at several removes; Buddy, notwithstanding his genius, being, via Tommy Roe, the patron saint of bubblegum. At the same time, the combination of an effete vocal and an aggressive back-up is reminiscent of the early Ray Davies and the Dylan of Blonde on Blonde.
All of which goes to show that with Electric Warrior, Marc Bolan establishes himself as the heaviest rocker under 5'4" in the world today. -- Ben Gerson, RS
Well, this is the group rock and roll fans. I feel it is important to impress on you the ingenuity of these two young Englishmen who have somehow, ingeniously, constructed a rock album that will enter the annals of rock history as one of the most original sounding, unusual sounding, obtusely, cleverly and creatively written albums ever. The sound could only be accurately pegged as "mystic boogie." Marc Bolan and Mickey Finn are the two dinosaurs involved here. Bolan does all the writing, singing, and plays guitar. Finn takes care of the percussion end of things. The rhythms this unique duo create, with the help of various session musicians (who play saxophone, flugelhorn, bass and drums) are devastating.
This is the group's second album on the Reprise label and fifth album together. They were originally on Fly Records in London and later on Blue Thumb where they came out with two albums: Unicorn and Beard of Stars. Tony Visconti has produced all the albums and on Electric Warrior he has coupled the T. Rex sound with an orchestral accompaniment: strings, cellos, bowed string basses which creates a sound so penetrating as to be awesome. But the paramount beauty of T. Rex lies in Bolan's singing and writing. His voice is hauntingly trebly, weird to the extent of being quite beautiful. His style is so unique as to resemble something non-human -- cosmically science fictive if you will. His writing draws upon stunning allusions and brilliant juxtapositions in words and thoughts. There is a duality to what he writes/sings/plays in that a listener can cruise along with the throbbing electric bass and resonant, moody drumming, or he can pay close attention to the lyric and reap a harvest of new insight from what Bolan has to say. At first his lyrics appear nonsensical but, upon a few listenings, one begins to understand the clever, highly individualistic description of reality the writer wants to convey. Bolan's rhyme schemes and word choices are solely unlike anything I have ever heard in rock and roll. He creates his very own special approach to rock that only few, highly creative artists have done. It is almost as though Bolan managed to establish a concept so "foreign" to standard rock and roll while still employing the artifice of the musical genre. He is avante-garde but in very captivating, understandable and inviting way.
"Jeepster," "Mambo Sun," "Cosmic Dancer," "Girl" and "Lean Woman Blues" highlight the eleven cuts on this album with lyrics that are inescapable.
"Jeepster": "You move so fine, with bones so fair, you've got the universereclining in your hair... Girl I'm just a Jeepster for your love..."
"Cosmic Dancer": "I danced with myself right out the womb, Is it strange todance so soon?... What's it like to be a loon? I'd liken it to a balloon...""Mambo Sun": "Beneath the bebop moon I want to croon with you. Beneaththe mambo sun, I want to be the one for you."
There you have a sampling, but without the music integrating with the words, mere reading does not do the group justice. With better promotion and a few American tours under their belts, T. Rex are, without escape, destined to become the very next supergroup of our heretofore doggerel-ridden rock and roll "universe." -- Jay Ehler, Phonograph Record
Marc Bolan is one of the most compelling characters in rock history. With his updated Byronic style and delightfully obscure brand of hippy mysticism, he was never less than audacious. While his career featured some maddeningly uneven output (as well as a bestelling book of poetry entitled The Warlock Of Love), its pinnacle was Electric Warrior. And, like all of his work, it was packed with surprises.
T. Rex had already achieved success in the UK -- however, Bolan wanted to reach the unconverted across the Atlantic. Hitting the road with new members Steve Currie on bass, and drummer Bill Legend abetting percussionist Mickey Finn, the band began cutting tracks on the fly in London, New York, and Los Angeles. While singles released at the time hinted at a bolder sound for the group, the full wonder of Electric Warrior only became clear on its release.Its cover art epitomizes the dangerous promise of rock's power, with Bolan wielding an electric weapon before a munitions dump of amplifiers. However, instead of blasting the listener with a metal onslaught when the needle hits the groove ...Warrior begins with a sultry guitar chug, easy backbeat, and an invitation to croon "beneath the bebop moon" on "Mambo Sun." The wide-eyed acoustic strum of "Cosmic Dancer" follows, with its rich string arrangement. So goes the record, by turns raucously salacious and meditatively romantic. While single "Bang A Gong (Get It On)" would reach the U.S. Top Ten, T. Rex never achieved Bolan's large ambition of international superstardom -- at least not in his lifetime. -- Tim Sheridan, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die,
review[-] by Steve HueyThe album that essentially kick-started the U.K. glam rock craze, Electric Warrior completes T. Rex's transformation from hippie folk-rockers into flamboyant avatars of trashy rock & roll. There are a few vestiges of those early days remaining in the acoustic-driven ballads, but Electric Warrior spends most of its time in a swinging, hip-shaking groove powered by Marc Bolan's warm electric guitar. The music recalls not just the catchy simplicity of early rock & roll, but also the implicit sexuality -- except that here, Bolan gleefully hauls it to the surface, singing out loud what was once only communicated through the shimmying beat. He takes obvious delight in turning teenage bubblegum rock into campy sleaze, not to mention filling it with pseudo-psychedelic hippie poetry. In fact, Bolan sounds just as obsessed with the heavens as he does with sex, whether he's singing about spiritual mysticism or begging a flying saucer to take him away. It's all done with the same theatrical flair, but Tony Visconti's spacious, echoing production makes it surprisingly convincing. Still, the real reason Electric Warrior stands the test of time so well -- despite its intended disposability -- is that it revels so freely in its own absurdity and willful lack of substance. Not taking himself at all seriously, Bolan is free to pursue whatever silly wordplay, cosmic fantasies, or non sequitur imagery he feels like; his abandonment of any pretense to art becomes, ironically, a statement in itself. Bolan's lack of pomposity, back-to-basics songwriting, and elaborate theatrics went on to influence everything from hard rock to punk to new wave. But in the end, it's that sense of playfulness, combined with a raft of irresistible hooks, that keeps Electric Warrior such an infectious, invigorating listen today.
The album that essentially kick-started the U.K. glam rock craze, Electric Warrior completes T. Rex's transformation from hippie folk-rockers into flamboyant avatars of trashy rock & roll. There are a few vestiges of those early days remaining in the acoustic-driven ballads, but Electric Warrior spends most of its time in a swinging, hip-shaking groove powered by Marc Bolan's warm electric guitar. The music recalls not just the catchy simplicity of early rock & roll, but also the implicit sexuality -- except that here, Bolan gleefully hauls it to the surface, singing out loud what was once only communicated through the shimmying beat. He takes obvious delight in turning teenage bubblegum rock into campy sleaze, not to mention filling it with pseudo-psychedelic hippie poetry. In fact, Bolan sounds just as obsessed with the heavens as he does with sex, whether he's singing about spiritual mysticism or begging a flying saucer to take him away. It's all done with the same theatrical flair, but Tony Visconti's spacious, echoing production makes it surprisingly convincing. Still, the real reason Electric Warrior stands the test of time so well -- despite its intended disposability -- is that it revels so freely in its own absurdity and willful lack of substance. Not taking himself at all seriously, Bolan is free to pursue whatever silly wordplay, cosmic fantasies, or non sequitur imagery he feels like; his abandonment of any pretense to art becomes, ironically, a statement in itself. Bolan's lack of pomposity, back-to-basics songwriting, and elaborate theatrics went on to influence everything from hard rock to punk to new wave. But in the end, it's that sense of playfulness, combined with a raft of irresistible hooks, that keeps Electric Warrior such an infectious, invigorating listen today.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 15:30 (thirteen years ago)
AG - what's the actual count for entry 150? I see a 1 at #1, but I know I voted for it, albeit lower...― BlackIronPrison
― BlackIronPrison
11 votes
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 15:31 (thirteen years ago)
116. PINK FAIRIES Neverneverland (1889 Points, 14 Votes)RYM: #232 for 1971http://pds22.egloos.com/pds/201105/31/54/a0104054_4de4870b745c6.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/2vEiDamgUlwzFPYfNL1diQspotify:album:2vEiDamgUlwzFPYfNL1diQ
After the Deviants folded in 1969, Farren recorded a solo album with a short-lived Pink Fairies that featured drummer/singer Twink (John Alder, a veteran of the Pretty Things who had a momentary band with Syd Barrett that actually performed in public in 1972). When the first Pink Fairies fell apart, Twink assembled a second version with the other three ex-Deviants and recorded Never Never Land, performing two songs from it on an apocalyptic side of Revelations, the Glastonbury Fayre festival live triple-album: a terse "Do It" (later covered by Rollins Band) and 20 minutes of "Uncle Harry's Last Freak-Out." Twink then flew the coop, leaving Duncan Sanderson (bass/vocals), Paul Rudolph (guitar/vocals) and Russell Hunter (drums) to carry the Fairies flag. -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Dave ThompsonKicking off the most exhaustive exhumation yet of the Pink Fairies' early-'70s catalog, the remastered Neverneverland readily takes its place among the era's most crucial debuts, a hard-rocking, free-flowing, and, above all, anarchic monster that opens with the definitive statement of yippie intent, "Do It," and doesn't look back. Titled for radical Jerry Rubin's book of the same name, "Do It" remains a manifesto for the revolution that never quite got off the ground, a gutsy affirmation that the Pink Fairies were never to eclipse. Originally released as a January 1971 single, "Do It" also appears among the bonus tracks in its edited (three-minute) 45 rpm format, together with its turbulent B-side, the similarly barnstorming "The Snake." And it must be admitted that anybody entering the realm of the Pink Fairies from those points of view is in for at least a few surprises. While "Say You Love Me" and "Teenage Rebel" certainly adhere to the band's rockiest tendencies, the ballad "Heavenly Man" sounds like nothing so much as those other pink things, Pink Floyd circa Obscured by Clouds, while "War Girl" has a distinct American R&B tinge to it. Other moods float in and out of focus before Neverneverland returns to Free Festival central for the live crowd-pleaser "Uncle Harry's Last Freak-Out" -- present in both its 11-minute LP form and, among the bonus tracks, the 12-minute instrumental prototype that was one of the band's first studio attempts at the piece. Needless to say, both are as relentless as the title insists -- and as fiery as the Pink Fairies' own reputation demand they should be.
Kicking off the most exhaustive exhumation yet of the Pink Fairies' early-'70s catalog, the remastered Neverneverland readily takes its place among the era's most crucial debuts, a hard-rocking, free-flowing, and, above all, anarchic monster that opens with the definitive statement of yippie intent, "Do It," and doesn't look back. Titled for radical Jerry Rubin's book of the same name, "Do It" remains a manifesto for the revolution that never quite got off the ground, a gutsy affirmation that the Pink Fairies were never to eclipse. Originally released as a January 1971 single, "Do It" also appears among the bonus tracks in its edited (three-minute) 45 rpm format, together with its turbulent B-side, the similarly barnstorming "The Snake." And it must be admitted that anybody entering the realm of the Pink Fairies from those points of view is in for at least a few surprises. While "Say You Love Me" and "Teenage Rebel" certainly adhere to the band's rockiest tendencies, the ballad "Heavenly Man" sounds like nothing so much as those other pink things, Pink Floyd circa Obscured by Clouds, while "War Girl" has a distinct American R&B tinge to it. Other moods float in and out of focus before Neverneverland returns to Free Festival central for the live crowd-pleaser "Uncle Harry's Last Freak-Out" -- present in both its 11-minute LP form and, among the bonus tracks, the 12-minute instrumental prototype that was one of the band's first studio attempts at the piece. Needless to say, both are as relentless as the title insists -- and as fiery as the Pink Fairies' own reputation demand they should be.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 15:40 (thirteen years ago)
Having problems with all of these albums being above "Soon Over Babaluma"... just leave me be, I'll get over it somehow
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Monday, 25 March 2013 15:44 (thirteen years ago)
115. MISFITS Static Age (1891 Points, 17 Votes)RYM: #356 overallhttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l-2olKpw9SQ/UK-pieFPT3I/AAAAAAAAAPA/5gb9MQlzEf4/s1600/the_misfits-static_age-frontal.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/51tAz06EJxwhsk8uNfWxBospotify:album:51tAz06EJxwhsk8uNfWxBo
Although considered part of the hardcore scene, New Jersey's Misfits date back to the first CBGB and London punk surge. Drawing their sound from the Ramones and the Damned, and their look from horror movies and Kiss, the Misfits began by releasing a string of 7-inches on their Plan 9 label. Two of these — the superb Bullet EP and the subsequent "Horror Business" single — are compiled on the English Beware EP (along with the legendary melodic outtake "Last Caress") and epitomize what made the Misfits great: a combination of hooky power-chording, weird horrific lyrics and singer Glenn Danzig's distinctive basso roar. (For a musical genre in which tone and articulation don't count for much, Danzig's power and control are awesome.) -- Trouser Press
review[-] by Ned RaggettRecorded thanks to some studio time received in exchange for giving up an early label name claimed by another company, though unreleased in its original form until its appearance on Box Set, Static Age shows that early on the Misfits' particular vision was strong enough to last over a full-vinyl set. "Full" being relative, admittedly; like the band's other few full-length efforts, Static Age barely cracks the half-hour mark, packing in 14 songs (plus a brief crackle of, naturally, static at the start and finish). Everyone in the band as they stood at the time just smokes; the recording quality is raw and strong, and those qualities which helped the Misfits stand out from the pack, especially Danzig's amazing singing and Franche Coma's fierce guitar takes on the singer's melodies, are on fine display. There's a fair amount of clangor and mess, to be sure, but it all sounds perfectly intentional, capturing a blend of punk mess, horror theatrics, and wicked humor that was theirs alone. Classics abound: "TV Casualty," with its blatant I Love Lucy end sample, the ridiculously entertaining sex fantasy "Teenagers From Mars," the perfectly pissed off "Attitude," and the crashed thrashers "We Are 138" and "Return of the Fly." Then there's the brilliant "Last Caress," cartoon criminal punk idiocy turned into singalong madness later made famous by Misfits fanatics Metallica. Given how many tracks slipped out here and there over time on the various overlapping compilations, hardcore fans will find this a bit redundant in the end, but newcomers to the group will find this essential. Discographical matters got even more confused in later years when Static Age was issued as a stand-alone effort with three more songs appended from the sessions, including "Spinal Remains" and a re-recording of "She."
Recorded thanks to some studio time received in exchange for giving up an early label name claimed by another company, though unreleased in its original form until its appearance on Box Set, Static Age shows that early on the Misfits' particular vision was strong enough to last over a full-vinyl set. "Full" being relative, admittedly; like the band's other few full-length efforts, Static Age barely cracks the half-hour mark, packing in 14 songs (plus a brief crackle of, naturally, static at the start and finish). Everyone in the band as they stood at the time just smokes; the recording quality is raw and strong, and those qualities which helped the Misfits stand out from the pack, especially Danzig's amazing singing and Franche Coma's fierce guitar takes on the singer's melodies, are on fine display. There's a fair amount of clangor and mess, to be sure, but it all sounds perfectly intentional, capturing a blend of punk mess, horror theatrics, and wicked humor that was theirs alone. Classics abound: "TV Casualty," with its blatant I Love Lucy end sample, the ridiculously entertaining sex fantasy "Teenagers From Mars," the perfectly pissed off "Attitude," and the crashed thrashers "We Are 138" and "Return of the Fly." Then there's the brilliant "Last Caress," cartoon criminal punk idiocy turned into singalong madness later made famous by Misfits fanatics Metallica. Given how many tracks slipped out here and there over time on the various overlapping compilations, hardcore fans will find this a bit redundant in the end, but newcomers to the group will find this essential. Discographical matters got even more confused in later years when Static Age was issued as a stand-alone effort with three more songs appended from the sessions, including "Spinal Remains" and a re-recording of "She."
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 15:46 (thirteen years ago)
can think of plenty who think static age is better than soon over babaluma (and think 5 other can albums are better than soon)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:00 (thirteen years ago)
plus tom didnt you say you have no use for heavy/punk rock?
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:01 (thirteen years ago)
No I didn't
Well they're wrong (xp)
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Monday, 25 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
114. THE CLASH The Clash (1907 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #6 for 1977 , #175 overall | Acclaimed: #56 | RS: #77 | Pitchfork: #44http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/930/MI0001930643.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7LAgu2DG7DfVTUT9LJZ9KYhttp://open.spotify.com/album/7LAgu2DG7DfVTUT9LJZ9KY
Cut for cut, this may be the greatest rock and roll album (plus limited-edition bonus single) ever manufactured in the U.S. It offers ten of the fourteen titles on the band's British debut as well as seven of the thirteen available only on forty-five. And the sequencing is anything but haphazard; the eight songs on side one divide into self-contained pairs that function as extended oxymorons on careerism, corporate power, race, and anomie. Yet the package feels misbegotten. The U.K. version of The Clash is the greatest rock and roll album ever manufactured anywhere partly because its innocence is of a piece--it never stops snarling, it's always threatening to blow up in your face. I'm still mad the real thing wasn't released two years ago, and I know for certain (I made a tape) that the singles would have made a dandy album by themselves. Nevertheless, a great introduction and a hell of a bargain. A -- R. ChristgauThe Clash, 1977's finest LP bar none, was not issued in the US until 1979, and then in radically altered form, adding subsequent single sides (the apocalyptic, autobiographical "Complete Control," the groundbreaking reggaefied "(White Man) in Hammersmith Palais," "Jail Guitar Doors" and others) and deleting four original tracks ("Deny," "Cheat," "Protex Blue" and "48 Hours"), making it paradoxically fragmentary but substantially stronger. In the album's original form, the fourteen songs explode in a scathing frenzy of venom and sardonic humor, ranging in subject from unemployment ("Career Opportunities") to the underground music scene ("Garageland") to cultural imperialism ("I'm So Bored with the U.S.A.") to rebellion ("White Riot," "London's Burning," "Hate & War"). Strummer's bellow exudes focused rage, while Jones' flaming guitar work both sets and supersedes the style for countless derivators who followed. Since the original album lacks a lyric sheet (the US label couldn't resist adding one), the exact words were appropriately indiscernible, but there's no missing the power of the music. A full disc of classics, including the Clash's first stab at reggae: a brilliant rendition of Junior Murvin's "Police & Thieves." (The American LP initially came with a bonus 45 containing two numbers recorded for The Cost of Living EP: the rocking "Gates of the West" and Strummer's Dylanesque semi-acoustic "Groovy Times." The EP's "I Fought the Law" was included on the album itself. None of the CD editions of the album have ever included "Gates of the West" or "Groovy Times.") -- Trouser PressOften taking second place -- undeservedly so -- to the Sex Pistols, The Clash eschewed the self-destructive ethos and instead opted for edgy political songs, catchy slogans, and clothes from a decorator's van.The green-black-and-white cover shot of Joe Strummer, Mick Jones, and Paul Simonon was taken in their rehearsal studios in north London and is in keeping with the unadorned music on their 14-track debut, recorded over the course of three weekends in 1977. Bordering on the incoherent, Strummer's sing/shout style fits perfectly with start/stop guitars in songs such as "I'm So Bored With The USA."Their output was often derided as sloganeering but the lyrics of "Career Opportunities" brilliantly capture the prospect facing the nation's youth: menial work or life on the dole. The Clash's appeal also lay in their ability to absorb other musical genres within their sound. Their cover of Junior Murvin and Lee Perry's "Police And Thieves" sees Simonon's bass stride above the guitars as the drums of Terry Chimes (a.k.a. Tory Crimes) provide a snapping rhythm. It is an arrangement that reoccurs to great effect elsewhere on the album.Coming from west London, they were right in the middle of a multicultural melting pot. Surrounded by reggae, ska, and rock steady influences, the band had a political and musical vision that reached a good way beyond the myopic outlook of their punk contemporaries.The Clash's incendiary style and exhortations to action can still be heard today in groups such as The Libertines, whose second (and final) album was produced by Mick Jones. What goes around... -- Ali MacQueen, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die"Wah wah! Wanna wah wah!" - "White Riot", which Jon Savage first heard as pre-Oedipal babywail, sounded to others - poor Cornelius Cardew among them - as proto-fascist call-to-arms. All Joe Strummer's goofy, desperate PC-meanderings then and since don't absolve the Clash of guilt for Oi: but the point was always how they acted out the music's contradictions. Even its confused, unlimited, unacknowledged-because-unpunky generosities: which drew to them those drawn, repelled those repelled, and surface most in the range of influences they try to stand beside (pop as iconographic terrain), less in the all-too commonly cited rebel-myth posturing. If these reasons for this record's huge influence are now better understood, it has to be said that it actually sounds more cartoony-cardboardy than many thought at the time, Strummer's idiot-sealbark of a voice blatting away over thick guitar, Woolworths-drums, loveable-loutish group-harmonies. -- HG, THE WIRE's THE HUNDRED BEST RECORDS OF ALL TIME
The Clash, 1977's finest LP bar none, was not issued in the US until 1979, and then in radically altered form, adding subsequent single sides (the apocalyptic, autobiographical "Complete Control," the groundbreaking reggaefied "(White Man) in Hammersmith Palais," "Jail Guitar Doors" and others) and deleting four original tracks ("Deny," "Cheat," "Protex Blue" and "48 Hours"), making it paradoxically fragmentary but substantially stronger. In the album's original form, the fourteen songs explode in a scathing frenzy of venom and sardonic humor, ranging in subject from unemployment ("Career Opportunities") to the underground music scene ("Garageland") to cultural imperialism ("I'm So Bored with the U.S.A.") to rebellion ("White Riot," "London's Burning," "Hate & War"). Strummer's bellow exudes focused rage, while Jones' flaming guitar work both sets and supersedes the style for countless derivators who followed. Since the original album lacks a lyric sheet (the US label couldn't resist adding one), the exact words were appropriately indiscernible, but there's no missing the power of the music. A full disc of classics, including the Clash's first stab at reggae: a brilliant rendition of Junior Murvin's "Police & Thieves." (The American LP initially came with a bonus 45 containing two numbers recorded for The Cost of Living EP: the rocking "Gates of the West" and Strummer's Dylanesque semi-acoustic "Groovy Times." The EP's "I Fought the Law" was included on the album itself. None of the CD editions of the album have ever included "Gates of the West" or "Groovy Times.") -- Trouser Press
Often taking second place -- undeservedly so -- to the Sex Pistols, The Clash eschewed the self-destructive ethos and instead opted for edgy political songs, catchy slogans, and clothes from a decorator's van.The green-black-and-white cover shot of Joe Strummer, Mick Jones, and Paul Simonon was taken in their rehearsal studios in north London and is in keeping with the unadorned music on their 14-track debut, recorded over the course of three weekends in 1977. Bordering on the incoherent, Strummer's sing/shout style fits perfectly with start/stop guitars in songs such as "I'm So Bored With The USA."
Their output was often derided as sloganeering but the lyrics of "Career Opportunities" brilliantly capture the prospect facing the nation's youth: menial work or life on the dole. The Clash's appeal also lay in their ability to absorb other musical genres within their sound. Their cover of Junior Murvin and Lee Perry's "Police And Thieves" sees Simonon's bass stride above the guitars as the drums of Terry Chimes (a.k.a. Tory Crimes) provide a snapping rhythm. It is an arrangement that reoccurs to great effect elsewhere on the album.
Coming from west London, they were right in the middle of a multicultural melting pot. Surrounded by reggae, ska, and rock steady influences, the band had a political and musical vision that reached a good way beyond the myopic outlook of their punk contemporaries.
The Clash's incendiary style and exhortations to action can still be heard today in groups such as The Libertines, whose second (and final) album was produced by Mick Jones. What goes around... -- Ali MacQueen, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
"Wah wah! Wanna wah wah!" - "White Riot", which Jon Savage first heard as pre-Oedipal babywail, sounded to others - poor Cornelius Cardew among them - as proto-fascist call-to-arms. All Joe Strummer's goofy, desperate PC-meanderings then and since don't absolve the Clash of guilt for Oi: but the point was always how they acted out the music's contradictions. Even its confused, unlimited, unacknowledged-because-unpunky generosities: which drew to them those drawn, repelled those repelled, and surface most in the range of influences they try to stand beside (pop as iconographic terrain), less in the all-too commonly cited rebel-myth posturing. If these reasons for this record's huge influence are now better understood, it has to be said that it actually sounds more cartoony-cardboardy than many thought at the time, Strummer's idiot-sealbark of a voice blatting away over thick guitar, Woolworths-drums, loveable-loutish group-harmonies. -- HG, THE WIRE's THE HUNDRED BEST RECORDS OF ALL TIME
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineNever Mind the Bollocks may have appeared revolutionary, but the Clash's eponymous debut album was pure, unadulterated rage and fury, fueled by passion for both rock & roll and revolution. Though the cliché about punk rock was that the bands couldn't play, the key to the Clash is that although they gave that illusion, they really could play -- hard. The charging, relentless rhythms, primitive three-chord rockers, and the poor sound quality give the album a nervy, vital energy. Joe Strummer's slurred wails perfectly compliment the edgy rock, while Mick Jones' clearer singing and charged guitar breaks make his numbers righteously anthemic. Even at this early stage, the Clash were experimenting with reggae, most notably on the Junior Murvin cover "Police & Thieves" and the extraordinary "(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais," which was one of five tracks added to the American edition of The Clash. "Deny," "Protex Blue," "Cheat," and "48 Hours" were removed from the British edition and replaced for the U.S. release with the British-only singles "Complete Control," "(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais," "Clash City Rockers," "I Fought the Law," and "Jail Guitar Doors," all of which were stronger than the items they replaced. Though the sequencing and selection were slightly different, the core of the album remained the same, and each song retained its power individually. Few punk songs expressed anger quite as bracingly as "White Riot," "I'm So Bored with the U.S.A.," "Career Opportunities," and "London's Burning," and their power is all the more incredible today. Rock & roll is rarely as edgy, invigorating, and sonically revolutionary as The Clash. [In 2000, Columbia/Legacy reissued and remastered the album to include the U.K. songs.]
Never Mind the Bollocks may have appeared revolutionary, but the Clash's eponymous debut album was pure, unadulterated rage and fury, fueled by passion for both rock & roll and revolution. Though the cliché about punk rock was that the bands couldn't play, the key to the Clash is that although they gave that illusion, they really could play -- hard. The charging, relentless rhythms, primitive three-chord rockers, and the poor sound quality give the album a nervy, vital energy. Joe Strummer's slurred wails perfectly compliment the edgy rock, while Mick Jones' clearer singing and charged guitar breaks make his numbers righteously anthemic. Even at this early stage, the Clash were experimenting with reggae, most notably on the Junior Murvin cover "Police & Thieves" and the extraordinary "(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais," which was one of five tracks added to the American edition of The Clash. "Deny," "Protex Blue," "Cheat," and "48 Hours" were removed from the British edition and replaced for the U.S. release with the British-only singles "Complete Control," "(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais," "Clash City Rockers," "I Fought the Law," and "Jail Guitar Doors," all of which were stronger than the items they replaced. Though the sequencing and selection were slightly different, the core of the album remained the same, and each song retained its power individually. Few punk songs expressed anger quite as bracingly as "White Riot," "I'm So Bored with the U.S.A.," "Career Opportunities," and "London's Burning," and their power is all the more incredible today. Rock & roll is rarely as edgy, invigorating, and sonically revolutionary as The Clash. [In 2000, Columbia/Legacy reissued and remastered the album to include the U.K. songs.]
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:02 (thirteen years ago)
more or less
No. I don't like heavy rock as a rule.― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Friday, March 22, 2013 3:57 PM (3 days ago) Bookmark Flag Post PermalinkOr, to be more precise, just not interested in it― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.),
― Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Friday, March 22, 2013 3:57 PM (3 days ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:03 (thirteen years ago)
spotify:album:7LAgu2DG7DfVTUT9LJZ9KY
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:05 (thirteen years ago)
Wow I have no idea whats going to be in the top 50, everything good has already placed!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 16:05 (thirteen years ago)
probably too early for this but i'm guessing nevermind the bullocks goes top 10?
― Mordy, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:06 (thirteen years ago)
Well I guess Master of Reality will be pretty high up.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 16:07 (thirteen years ago)
I don't understand why London Calling has had multiple deluxe reissues while their debut has never been reissued with both US and UK tracks plus other essential early B-sides.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:08 (thirteen years ago)
Well, the US and UK versions have their individual versions, and the "Super Black Market Clash" fills the gaps.
The one that really could be "Deluxified" is "Combat Rock", the "Fort Bragg" mixes, and all sorts...
― Mark G, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:11 (thirteen years ago)
113. THE DAMNED Damned Damned Damned (1908 Points, 13 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #40 for 1977 , #1565 overall | Acclaimed: #1051http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/715/MI0001715034.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/3W6iNco3HEYTjiOHQp1WJOspotify:album:3W6iNco3HEYTjiOHQp1WJO
Damned Damned Damned was a major groundbreaker, a stripped-down punk album of high-speed songs filled with raunchy guitar rock and equally aggressive sentiments. With Nick Lowe producing, the Damned trounced such then-hard-to-challenge traditional recording values as musical precision and studio-quality sound. Unfailingly energetic and vital, it's the only Damned studio album to feature the original lineup of Dave Vanian (vocals), Brian James (guitar), the exceptionally skillful Rat Scabies (drums) and Captain Sensible (bass). Just to heighten the bratty iconoclasm, early copies of the sleeve "goofed"; the back cover pictured rivals Eddie and the Hot Rods in lieu of the Damned. (According to the band, rumors that Lowe had achieved ramalama audio escape velocity by speeding up the tapes were groundless. They evidently sped themselves up using other means.) -- Trouser Press"...the first album by a British punk-rock group, released nearly a year ago, was the Damned's Damned Damned Damned, an uninspiring assortment of sloppy guitars and overblown vocals. The rhythm section is creditable but constantly overwhelmed, few riffs are memorable and Nick Lowe's production is too muddy. The intent of the Damned's music is clear, but the realization falls far short... ...Rock & roll is many things, musical and otherwise, and punk rock does retain much of the traditional spirit and motivation. But that's not enough and never has been. The rockers who have wielded the greatest cultural influence - Presley, Berry, the Beatles, Dylan and many, many more - did so primarily through music that could stand the test of time. Without such music, few would have paid any attention in the first place. Herein lies punk rock's likely fate. Musically, it offers far too little...And that's the most important part of all this, as simple as it may sound. Rock & roll will surely stand; today's punk rock probably won't." (Charley Walters, 10/6/77 Review) 1977 was the year punk broke in Britain, and today it is generally seen as a watershed moment, perhaps the most significant 12-month period in music since the advent of rock & roll. But you would hardly know this reading contemporary issues of RS, which, at least initially, seems to have regarded punk rock as nothing more than a mildly interesting sideshow with little or no lasting cultural significance. The Damned never took themselves as seriously as the Pistols or the Clash, but they were just as influential in shaping the aesthetics of punk rock. And their debut is one of the most raucous, enjoyable recordings of the era. The Damned were omitted from the 2004 album guide. -- schmidtt, Rolling Stone's 500 Worst Reviews of All Time.
"...the first album by a British punk-rock group, released nearly a year ago, was the Damned's Damned Damned Damned, an uninspiring assortment of sloppy guitars and overblown vocals. The rhythm section is creditable but constantly overwhelmed, few riffs are memorable and Nick Lowe's production is too muddy. The intent of the Damned's music is clear, but the realization falls far short...
...Rock & roll is many things, musical and otherwise, and punk rock does retain much of the traditional spirit and motivation. But that's not enough and never has been. The rockers who have wielded the greatest cultural influence - Presley, Berry, the Beatles, Dylan and many, many more - did so primarily through music that could stand the test of time. Without such music, few would have paid any attention in the first place. Herein lies punk rock's likely fate. Musically, it offers far too little...And that's the most important part of all this, as simple as it may sound. Rock & roll will surely stand; today's punk rock probably won't." (Charley Walters, 10/6/77 Review)
1977 was the year punk broke in Britain, and today it is generally seen as a watershed moment, perhaps the most significant 12-month period in music since the advent of rock & roll. But you would hardly know this reading contemporary issues of RS, which, at least initially, seems to have regarded punk rock as nothing more than a mildly interesting sideshow with little or no lasting cultural significance.
The Damned never took themselves as seriously as the Pistols or the Clash, but they were just as influential in shaping the aesthetics of punk rock. And their debut is one of the most raucous, enjoyable recordings of the era.
The Damned were omitted from the 2004 album guide. -- schmidtt, Rolling Stone's 500 Worst Reviews of All Time.
review[-] by Ned RaggettWhile the Sex Pistols will always have a prominent place in the story of U.K. punk, the Damned did nearly everything first, including the first single, the smoking "New Rose," and the first album, namely this stone classic of rock & roll fire. At just half an hour long, Damned Damned Damned is a permanent testimony to original guitarist Brian James' songwriting (ten of the 12 tracks are his) and the band's take-no-prisoners aesthetic. Starting with Captain Sensible's sharp bassline for "Neat Neat Neat," which rapidly explodes into a full band thrash, the Damned left rhetoric for the theoreticians and political posing for the Clash. All the foursome wanted to do was rock, and that they do here. Dave Vanian already has his spooky-voiced theatrics down cold; "Feel the Pain" indulges his Alice Cooper fascination while the band creates some creepy fun behind him. Most of the time, he's yelping with the best of them, but with considerably more control than most of the era's shouters. Scabies' considerable reputation as a drummer starts here; comparisons flew thick and fast to Keith Moon, and not just for on-stage antics (of which there were plenty). His sense of stop-start rhythm and fills is simply astounding, whether on "So Messed Up" or in his own one-minute goof, "Stab Yer Back." Though the Captain doesn't get his full chance to shine on bass, he's more than adequate, while James just cranks the amps and lets fly. Concluding with a version of the Stooges' "I Feel Alright" that sounds hollower than the original but no less energetic, Damned Damned Damned is and remains rock at its messy, wonderful best.
While the Sex Pistols will always have a prominent place in the story of U.K. punk, the Damned did nearly everything first, including the first single, the smoking "New Rose," and the first album, namely this stone classic of rock & roll fire. At just half an hour long, Damned Damned Damned is a permanent testimony to original guitarist Brian James' songwriting (ten of the 12 tracks are his) and the band's take-no-prisoners aesthetic. Starting with Captain Sensible's sharp bassline for "Neat Neat Neat," which rapidly explodes into a full band thrash, the Damned left rhetoric for the theoreticians and political posing for the Clash. All the foursome wanted to do was rock, and that they do here. Dave Vanian already has his spooky-voiced theatrics down cold; "Feel the Pain" indulges his Alice Cooper fascination while the band creates some creepy fun behind him. Most of the time, he's yelping with the best of them, but with considerably more control than most of the era's shouters. Scabies' considerable reputation as a drummer starts here; comparisons flew thick and fast to Keith Moon, and not just for on-stage antics (of which there were plenty). His sense of stop-start rhythm and fills is simply astounding, whether on "So Messed Up" or in his own one-minute goof, "Stab Yer Back." Though the Captain doesn't get his full chance to shine on bass, he's more than adequate, while James just cranks the amps and lets fly. Concluding with a version of the Stooges' "I Feel Alright" that sounds hollower than the original but no less energetic, Damned Damned Damned is and remains rock at its messy, wonderful best.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:11 (thirteen years ago)
these are some pretty seriously canonized albums showing up outside the top 100
― Mordy, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:12 (thirteen years ago)
Lots of people on ilx hate the canon and vote accordingly. Esp the heavy rock/punk ones it seems
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:16 (thirteen years ago)
DAMNED to be kept out of the 100.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 16:19 (thirteen years ago)
Not sure why or how you're conflating heavy rock and punk? They seem pretty distinct genres to me.
― emil.y, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:19 (thirteen years ago)
112. GURU GURU Känguru (1947 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #300 for 1972http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VFGQN-uuD88/TWQqSFtABrI/AAAAAAAAExM/dy3DoHPDP9M/s1600/Front.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5fEwSGwhGXaUJKu5NDEfBLspotify:album:5fEwSGwhGXaUJKu5NDEfBL
Moving to the Brain label KÄNGURU was arguably their most accomplished yet, in terms of technical quality, complexity and invention, giving Ax Genrich the freedom to play as many guitar lines as he desired. "Immer Lustig" is amongst their most extraordinary pieces, tripping out as it does, with a myriad guitar patterns, along with complex backdrops of percussion, bass and electronics. -- Cosmic EggGuru Guru are kind of the Spinal Tap of the German avant rock scene, with the aptly named Ax Genrich peeling off gonzoid slabs of guitar madness inspired by Hendrix and Blue Cheer, but also anticipating the likes of Chrome and MX-80 Sound with flashes of brilliance that sounds positively post-punk. Their first and fourth albums, UFO (1970) and Guru Guru (1973) are often cited as their best. They’re wrong. Their third album Känguru reflects bandleader and drummer Mani Neumeier’s peak. Learning from his friends Conny Plank and Hans-Joachim Roedelius of Cluster/Harmonia, it’s also their best sounding album. Try Hinten (1971) next. -- Fastnbulbous
Guru Guru are kind of the Spinal Tap of the German avant rock scene, with the aptly named Ax Genrich peeling off gonzoid slabs of guitar madness inspired by Hendrix and Blue Cheer, but also anticipating the likes of Chrome and MX-80 Sound with flashes of brilliance that sounds positively post-punk. Their first and fourth albums, UFO (1970) and Guru Guru (1973) are often cited as their best. They’re wrong. Their third album Känguru reflects bandleader and drummer Mani Neumeier’s peak. Learning from his friends Conny Plank and Hans-Joachim Roedelius of Cluster/Harmonia, it’s also their best sounding album. Try Hinten (1971) next. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Ned RaggettMost notable in later years for providing the inspiration for the artwork on Pavement's Wowee Zowee album, Kanguru itself is another fine trip from the band, whose members by this time sound like they've got the tripped-out measure of each other. Regular vocals start appearing for the first time in the band's history, though even those are subjected to the same weird-out work as could be expected from the early band -- opening cut "Oxymoron" has them rapidly going up and down in pitch amidst the slow, slightly spooky groove that kicks things off. True to common Krautrock form, the song itself goes through a variety of phases ranging from full-noise freakout to quieter (but sometimes goofy -- check out the treated chimes about eight minutes in) moments and back again. "Immer Lustig" is the longest and easily the best of the four songs -- starting with a nutty announcement from a band member followed by a jolly marching beat from Neumeier, things quickly start rocking out in oddball fashion. And again from there into tempo and stylistic changes, echoed, surfy guitar riffs or sampled birds in the trees, the whole thing feeling like one heck of a groovy trip, man -- and why not? "Baby Cake Walk" is amusing hero rock stuff, with lyrics about wanting to "fly in my kinky machine" and the like over Genrich's monster riffs and full-on heavy metal sprawl, though there's the usual mid-song break into relative calm. "Ooga Booga" has its moments, but otherwise is mostly Guru Guru by numbers, a reasonable if not deathless way to end the album. If there's a definite formula that the band use at this point, it's still a good one which makes for entertaining listening.
Most notable in later years for providing the inspiration for the artwork on Pavement's Wowee Zowee album, Kanguru itself is another fine trip from the band, whose members by this time sound like they've got the tripped-out measure of each other. Regular vocals start appearing for the first time in the band's history, though even those are subjected to the same weird-out work as could be expected from the early band -- opening cut "Oxymoron" has them rapidly going up and down in pitch amidst the slow, slightly spooky groove that kicks things off. True to common Krautrock form, the song itself goes through a variety of phases ranging from full-noise freakout to quieter (but sometimes goofy -- check out the treated chimes about eight minutes in) moments and back again. "Immer Lustig" is the longest and easily the best of the four songs -- starting with a nutty announcement from a band member followed by a jolly marching beat from Neumeier, things quickly start rocking out in oddball fashion. And again from there into tempo and stylistic changes, echoed, surfy guitar riffs or sampled birds in the trees, the whole thing feeling like one heck of a groovy trip, man -- and why not? "Baby Cake Walk" is amusing hero rock stuff, with lyrics about wanting to "fly in my kinky machine" and the like over Genrich's monster riffs and full-on heavy metal sprawl, though there's the usual mid-song break into relative calm. "Ooga Booga" has its moments, but otherwise is mostly Guru Guru by numbers, a reasonable if not deathless way to end the album. If there's a definite formula that the band use at this point, it's still a good one which makes for entertaining listening.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:20 (thirteen years ago)
I'm not. I just mean both
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:21 (thirteen years ago)
Sure but some people might like it all in one nice package. I'll order that expanded Combat Rock too, please.
Quite the 1-2 punch of punk classics! When I saw The Damned perform this album last year, Captain Sensible seriously looked no older than 35. Great show. It's ranked a bit lower than I'd expect on RYM and Acclaimed too. I know they were sort of the Rodney Dangerfield of punk, but you'd think people would be past that now. At least the same people who ranked The Cramps so high should appreciate this!
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:23 (thirteen years ago)
that damned album is an indisputable classic
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:25 (thirteen years ago)
and the clash s/t is easily their best album
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:26 (thirteen years ago)
That is a satisfyingly high placing for an album that got no love for so long, not even from Cope! Good job ILM ;)
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:26 (thirteen years ago)
next album is way too low too but I guess we could say it about every album now
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:27 (thirteen years ago)
I know quite a lot of people who think that is the best Guru Guru album (I dont but it is a great album)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:28 (thirteen years ago)
Pavement seemed to pay tribute to them with their Wowee Zowee cover art.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:28 (thirteen years ago)
111. FACES A Nod Is As Good As a Wink... to a Blind Horse (1952 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #95 for 1971 , #2374 overall | Acclaimed: #1110http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_1080/MI0001/663/MI0001663595.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Rod Stewart sings lead only half of the time, which gives Ronnie Lane a chance to prove himself--his "You're So Rude" is a better (funnier and warmer) song about getting laid than "Stay With Me." Other standouts include the story of how Rod's brother became a hippie and a version of "Memphis" that's a gift from a band that has tightened up just enough. A- -- R. ChristgauWell, now this doesn't make any sense at all. Rod Stewart has three solo albums out, all of them excellent. With the release of A Nod Is As Good As A Wink ... the Faces, with Stewart singing lead, have three albums out, each of them duller than the one that preceded it, and with the first one having been none too great to begin with. It is apparent that when Stewart takes charge of his music he elevates the musicianship of everyone around him; when he submerges himself in the artistic group democracy of this particular band he only succeeds in bringing himself down to the level of the group's lowest common denominator. Thus, at the same time he is riding the success of an intensely personal and beautifully crafted solo album, Every Picture Tells A Story, he participates in the making of another almost completely devoid of personality, character, depth, or vision.The Faces do not, as some have recently alleged, play badly. They are more than competent, especially at creating a mid-Sixties Rolling Stones-styled groove, as their excellent version of "Memphis" proves. But like most rockers who just barely miss their mark, they can't sustain ideas, so their music tends to be filled with bits and pieces — a bright 30 seconds there, an exciting riff here — and then back into a basic track that is usually melodically undistinguished, unimaginatively arranged, and sounds as much of a bore to listen to as it must have been to record."Miss Judy's Farm" starts off strong enough with some Ron Wood guitar and then the whole band riffing behind him. But as soon as the vocal commences, the song emerges as the dog that it is, and what started off sounding funky now just sounds like rock band hacking. "Stay With Me" is a better example of a riff song, but isn't all that exciting either — the ending is an obvious cop from Stewart's own arrangement (performed with the Faces) of "It's All Over Now," from Gasoline Alley."That's All You Need" contains something of the groove heard on "Cut Across Shorty" and "Every Picture Tells A Story," but there is absolutely no song present here. Ron Wood plays some great slide guitar, especially on "Memphis," but his bashing about on this cut is just plain awful.Perhaps the Faces recognize that their days with Stewart are numbered. For on this album Ron Lane makes his debut as a regular lead singer with the band, taking his turn on, "You're So Rude," "Last Orders Please," and "Debris." And not badly either. He has plenty of charm, some real wit, and considerable style, if not a great lead voice, and he certainly bears watching in the future. In some perverse way, it occasionally seemed to me that his efforts were at least more natural and less forced than Stewart's on this particular album. His best number is "Last Orders Please."I admit being a sucker for revived oldies, but the only thing that is going to keep me coming back to this album is the beautifully structured and excellently pérformed rendition of "Memphis." It is only here that the band creates a fully satisfying groove and sustains it for any length of time. Stewart does his bit and is gone and Wood carries it very nicely with plenty of help from the rhythm section and Ian McLagan on keyboards.The gap in achievement between Stewart's albums and the Faces is too great for it to go on. Glyn Johns was added as this album's co-producer in an attempt to break the mold of the last two albums. As a result, the new record certainly sounds good enough, but that seems to be about all that he was able to add to it. For the present, First Step remains the Faces' best album and I am left wondering how they intend to deal with that fact. -- Jon Landau, RSThe original Small Faces were quite a band in their day, and although before this album I had my doubts, I have now answered the question of whether or not the new band can equal the old. The Small Faces, good as they were, are in every way matched or surpassed by Rod, Ron and company, who feel disposed to rock out a lot more than they used to.I mean, First Step was excellent in spots ("Nobody Knows," "Three Button Hand Me Down") but a weak album on the whole. Those instrumentals were often pisspoor, things that you just skipped over when you played the album. Shortly after this album's release, I was fortunate enough to see the band perform (twice), and was knocked flat by the sheer energy and raunch release of Mssrs. Stewart, Wood, McLagan, Lane and Jones, but tightness was noticeably absent. At one point in the "Plynth" jam, Ian went into "Wicked Messenger" quite unexpectedly, and although I thought it a bit clever, Roddy Stewart was not at all pleased. In fact, backstage there were some heated squabbles, with Rod doing most of the yelling.The next time I saw the band (a few months later), they seemed to be wearing a bit more polish (and alcohol), but performed basically the same set of songs. I was slightly ticked at this; the spontaneity seemed less present and all that, but it was an enjoyable concert.Their second album, Long Player, had some surefire knockout cuts on it, but was weighted down by much filler material ("On the Beach"), and the extended live instrumental jam didn't do a heck of a lot for me. However, on this third return to the United States, the band was much tighter, friendlier, drunker, raunchier, and just plain better. I saw them twice on this tour, and they seemed to be a lot closer as friends, which naturally made them a better band. They did all kinds of neato stunts like pass out bottles of Mateus to the audience, which is certainly a good thing for a band to do. They were also the top name on the bill.A lot of things have happened since then, most notably the making of Rod Stewart into a superstar with his hit singles of enormous popularity and all. Rod doesn't have to worry about monopolizing things anymore with his solo album ventures, so he can lay back a bit and let the two Ron's (Lane & Wood) take over.And that's why the new album is so stupendous. Ronnie Lane has always been a favorite of mine, but his rock 'n' roll ventures have never appeared on record (His tunes've always been quiet and beautiful ballads with pretty words.) Not this time, my friends. Good old Plonk has given us a few rockers, and they're tops in my book. In fact, "You're So Rude" ranks with the top English bawdy numbers, including all those great ones that our friend Steve Marriott (an ex-Face himself) wrote for Humble Pie."Memphis" features some knockout vocal delivery by Rod the Mod, not to mention a cooking guitar-through-Leslie intro by Woody. "Stay With Me" and "That's All You Need" are my favorites on the album, I guess, with the latter's fine, fine bottleneck guitar.The Faces have finally reached a level where not only are they capable of writing and performing good material, they know which tunes not to do. The band has waited until they got a full album's worth of great songs, so there's no need for fillers. I wholeheartedly recommend this album to anyone with ears not yet shattered by Grand Funk...the Faces have proved to me that they can save rock 'n' roll with their music, and no act as merely a backup band for an exceptional vocalist. Hot diggety doggie! -- Jon Tiven, Phonograph Record There has always been a subtle shade of difference between Rod Stewart albums and Faces albums. Somehow on the latter, Rod has shared more of the spotlight with his cronies. This is definitely the case on Nod... In fact, Stewart only sings lead on two-thirds of the tracks, letting Ronnie Lane step up to the vocal mike for the reminder. And a funny thing happens. Lane nearly pretty much steals the show. His voice is smooth and clear. He knows how to hold a note and draw the humor from a lyric, something he does quite handily on a little refrain entitled "You're So Rude." This is the age-old tale of a young man trapped flagrante delicto, and Ronnie works it for all it's got.This is still very much Rod's show -- it seems as if he must dominate the proceedings whether he wants to or not. Could be his scratchy set of pipes. Could be his effervescent personality. Maybe it's his breath. It doesn't matter. By now everyone's become accustomed to Stewart's extraordinarily appealing style, and from the opening track, "Miss Judy's Farm," on which he takes the love-crazy hero of "Maggie May" farther out into the pastures of raunch, to the closing number, the appropriately titled "That's All You Need," he is neatly in command.The material on the record is pretty evenly divided as far as songwriting credits are concerned. "Stay With Me," penned by Rod Wood and Stewart is a cockeyed masterpiece which Rod treats in a properly raucous and rowdy fashion. A nod (and a wink as well) go to Chuck Berry via a smartly moving version of "Memphis." An album of high level hi-jinks which should appeal to even the blindest of horses. -- Ed Kelleher, Circus When Rod Stewart hooked-up with the remnants of The Small Faces in 1969 by hanging round their rehearsal rooms with similarly unemployed pal Ron Wood, he was not universally welcomed. Having been ditched by Steve Marriott, en route to supergroup Humble Pie, the three remaining Small Faces were not keen to be anyone else's backing band. Yet overwhelming musical compatibility kept such worries in the backgruond until 1971, when the band's excellent third album coincided with Rod's solo Every Picture Tells a Story.A Nod is As Good As A Wink...To A Blind Horse had much going for it, not least the songwriting ability of bassist Ronnie Lane. His vignettes of East London life -- the likes of "Last Orders Please" and especially "Debris" -- were the necessary antidote to the Wood/Stewart laddishness for which the Faces became famed. It can only be a matter of time, for example, before "Stay With Me," still Wood's finest open-tuned moment despite a quarter of a century as a Stone, is resurrected as a theme for a lad's magazine commercial.It was this tough but tender dichotomy that led John Peel to make them his pre-Undertones favorites. Even a cheery trundle through Chuck Berry's hoary old "Memphis, Tennessee" cannot spoil things.Sadly for the Faces, the follow-up, Ooh-La-La, is best forgotten, and their star waned as Stewart's rose toward the commercial apogee of Atlantic Crossing and stadium anthem "Sailing." One thing is for sure -- it would never have been given house room here. -- Michael Heatley, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
Well, now this doesn't make any sense at all. Rod Stewart has three solo albums out, all of them excellent. With the release of A Nod Is As Good As A Wink ... the Faces, with Stewart singing lead, have three albums out, each of them duller than the one that preceded it, and with the first one having been none too great to begin with. It is apparent that when Stewart takes charge of his music he elevates the musicianship of everyone around him; when he submerges himself in the artistic group democracy of this particular band he only succeeds in bringing himself down to the level of the group's lowest common denominator. Thus, at the same time he is riding the success of an intensely personal and beautifully crafted solo album, Every Picture Tells A Story, he participates in the making of another almost completely devoid of personality, character, depth, or vision.
The Faces do not, as some have recently alleged, play badly. They are more than competent, especially at creating a mid-Sixties Rolling Stones-styled groove, as their excellent version of "Memphis" proves. But like most rockers who just barely miss their mark, they can't sustain ideas, so their music tends to be filled with bits and pieces — a bright 30 seconds there, an exciting riff here — and then back into a basic track that is usually melodically undistinguished, unimaginatively arranged, and sounds as much of a bore to listen to as it must have been to record.
"Miss Judy's Farm" starts off strong enough with some Ron Wood guitar and then the whole band riffing behind him. But as soon as the vocal commences, the song emerges as the dog that it is, and what started off sounding funky now just sounds like rock band hacking. "Stay With Me" is a better example of a riff song, but isn't all that exciting either — the ending is an obvious cop from Stewart's own arrangement (performed with the Faces) of "It's All Over Now," from Gasoline Alley.
"That's All You Need" contains something of the groove heard on "Cut Across Shorty" and "Every Picture Tells A Story," but there is absolutely no song present here. Ron Wood plays some great slide guitar, especially on "Memphis," but his bashing about on this cut is just plain awful.
Perhaps the Faces recognize that their days with Stewart are numbered. For on this album Ron Lane makes his debut as a regular lead singer with the band, taking his turn on, "You're So Rude," "Last Orders Please," and "Debris." And not badly either. He has plenty of charm, some real wit, and considerable style, if not a great lead voice, and he certainly bears watching in the future. In some perverse way, it occasionally seemed to me that his efforts were at least more natural and less forced than Stewart's on this particular album. His best number is "Last Orders Please."
I admit being a sucker for revived oldies, but the only thing that is going to keep me coming back to this album is the beautifully structured and excellently pérformed rendition of "Memphis." It is only here that the band creates a fully satisfying groove and sustains it for any length of time. Stewart does his bit and is gone and Wood carries it very nicely with plenty of help from the rhythm section and Ian McLagan on keyboards.
The gap in achievement between Stewart's albums and the Faces is too great for it to go on. Glyn Johns was added as this album's co-producer in an attempt to break the mold of the last two albums. As a result, the new record certainly sounds good enough, but that seems to be about all that he was able to add to it. For the present, First Step remains the Faces' best album and I am left wondering how they intend to deal with that fact. -- Jon Landau, RS
The original Small Faces were quite a band in their day, and although before this album I had my doubts, I have now answered the question of whether or not the new band can equal the old. The Small Faces, good as they were, are in every way matched or surpassed by Rod, Ron and company, who feel disposed to rock out a lot more than they used to.
I mean, First Step was excellent in spots ("Nobody Knows," "Three Button Hand Me Down") but a weak album on the whole. Those instrumentals were often pisspoor, things that you just skipped over when you played the album. Shortly after this album's release, I was fortunate enough to see the band perform (twice), and was knocked flat by the sheer energy and raunch release of Mssrs. Stewart, Wood, McLagan, Lane and Jones, but tightness was noticeably absent. At one point in the "Plynth" jam, Ian went into "Wicked Messenger" quite unexpectedly, and although I thought it a bit clever, Roddy Stewart was not at all pleased. In fact, backstage there were some heated squabbles, with Rod doing most of the yelling.
The next time I saw the band (a few months later), they seemed to be wearing a bit more polish (and alcohol), but performed basically the same set of songs. I was slightly ticked at this; the spontaneity seemed less present and all that, but it was an enjoyable concert.
Their second album, Long Player, had some surefire knockout cuts on it, but was weighted down by much filler material ("On the Beach"), and the extended live instrumental jam didn't do a heck of a lot for me. However, on this third return to the United States, the band was much tighter, friendlier, drunker, raunchier, and just plain better. I saw them twice on this tour, and they seemed to be a lot closer as friends, which naturally made them a better band. They did all kinds of neato stunts like pass out bottles of Mateus to the audience, which is certainly a good thing for a band to do. They were also the top name on the bill.
A lot of things have happened since then, most notably the making of Rod Stewart into a superstar with his hit singles of enormous popularity and all. Rod doesn't have to worry about monopolizing things anymore with his solo album ventures, so he can lay back a bit and let the two Ron's (Lane & Wood) take over.
And that's why the new album is so stupendous. Ronnie Lane has always been a favorite of mine, but his rock 'n' roll ventures have never appeared on record (His tunes've always been quiet and beautiful ballads with pretty words.) Not this time, my friends. Good old Plonk has given us a few rockers, and they're tops in my book. In fact, "You're So Rude" ranks with the top English bawdy numbers, including all those great ones that our friend Steve Marriott (an ex-Face himself) wrote for Humble Pie.
"Memphis" features some knockout vocal delivery by Rod the Mod, not to mention a cooking guitar-through-Leslie intro by Woody. "Stay With Me" and "That's All You Need" are my favorites on the album, I guess, with the latter's fine, fine bottleneck guitar.
The Faces have finally reached a level where not only are they capable of writing and performing good material, they know which tunes not to do. The band has waited until they got a full album's worth of great songs, so there's no need for fillers. I wholeheartedly recommend this album to anyone with ears not yet shattered by Grand Funk...the Faces have proved to me that they can save rock 'n' roll with their music, and no act as merely a backup band for an exceptional vocalist. Hot diggety doggie! -- Jon Tiven, Phonograph Record
There has always been a subtle shade of difference between Rod Stewart albums and Faces albums. Somehow on the latter, Rod has shared more of the spotlight with his cronies. This is definitely the case on Nod... In fact, Stewart only sings lead on two-thirds of the tracks, letting Ronnie Lane step up to the vocal mike for the reminder. And a funny thing happens. Lane nearly pretty much steals the show. His voice is smooth and clear. He knows how to hold a note and draw the humor from a lyric, something he does quite handily on a little refrain entitled "You're So Rude." This is the age-old tale of a young man trapped flagrante delicto, and Ronnie works it for all it's got.
This is still very much Rod's show -- it seems as if he must dominate the proceedings whether he wants to or not. Could be his scratchy set of pipes. Could be his effervescent personality. Maybe it's his breath. It doesn't matter. By now everyone's become accustomed to Stewart's extraordinarily appealing style, and from the opening track, "Miss Judy's Farm," on which he takes the love-crazy hero of "Maggie May" farther out into the pastures of raunch, to the closing number, the appropriately titled "That's All You Need," he is neatly in command.
The material on the record is pretty evenly divided as far as songwriting credits are concerned. "Stay With Me," penned by Rod Wood and Stewart is a cockeyed masterpiece which Rod treats in a properly raucous and rowdy fashion. A nod (and a wink as well) go to Chuck Berry via a smartly moving version of "Memphis." An album of high level hi-jinks which should appeal to even the blindest of horses. -- Ed Kelleher, Circus
When Rod Stewart hooked-up with the remnants of The Small Faces in 1969 by hanging round their rehearsal rooms with similarly unemployed pal Ron Wood, he was not universally welcomed. Having been ditched by Steve Marriott, en route to supergroup Humble Pie, the three remaining Small Faces were not keen to be anyone else's backing band. Yet overwhelming musical compatibility kept such worries in the backgruond until 1971, when the band's excellent third album coincided with Rod's solo Every Picture Tells a Story.
A Nod is As Good As A Wink...To A Blind Horse had much going for it, not least the songwriting ability of bassist Ronnie Lane. His vignettes of East London life -- the likes of "Last Orders Please" and especially "Debris" -- were the necessary antidote to the Wood/Stewart laddishness for which the Faces became famed. It can only be a matter of time, for example, before "Stay With Me," still Wood's finest open-tuned moment despite a quarter of a century as a Stone, is resurrected as a theme for a lad's magazine commercial.
It was this tough but tender dichotomy that led John Peel to make them his pre-Undertones favorites. Even a cheery trundle through Chuck Berry's hoary old "Memphis, Tennessee" cannot spoil things.
Sadly for the Faces, the follow-up, Ooh-La-La, is best forgotten, and their star waned as Stewart's rose toward the commercial apogee of Atlantic Crossing and stadium anthem "Sailing." One thing is for sure -- it would never have been given house room here. -- Michael Heatley, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die
review[-] by Stephen Thomas ErlewineThe Faces' third album, A Nod Is as Good as a Wink...to a Blind Horse, finally gave the group their long-awaited hit single in "Stay with Me," helping send the album into the Billboard Top Ten, which is certainly a testament to both the song and the album, but it's hard to separate its success from that of Rod Stewart's sudden solo stardom. In the mere months that separated Long Player and A Nod, Rod had a phenomenal hit with "Maggie May" and Every Picture Tells a Story, his third solo album, something that would soon irreparably damage the band, but at the time it was mere good fortune, helping bring them some collateral success that they deserved. Certainly, it didn't change the character of the album itself, which is the tightest record the band ever made. Granted that may be a relative term, since sloppiness is at the heart of the band, but this doesn't feel cobbled together (which the otherwise excellent Long Player did) and it serves up tremendous song after tremendous song, starting with the mean, propulsive "Miss Judy's Farm" and ending with the rampaging good times of "That's All You Need." In between, Ronnie Lane serves up dirty jokes (the exquisitely funny "You're So Rude") and heartbreaking ballads (the absolutely beautiful "Debris"), the band reworks a classic as their own (Chuck Berry's "Memphis") and generally serves up a nonstop party. There are few records that feel like a never-ending party like A Nod -- the slow moments are for slow dancing, and as soon as it's over, it's hard not to want to do it all over again. It's another classic -- and when you consider that the band also had Long Player to their credit and had their hands all over Every Picture in 1971, it's hard to imagine another band or singer having a year more extraordinary as this.
The Faces' third album, A Nod Is as Good as a Wink...to a Blind Horse, finally gave the group their long-awaited hit single in "Stay with Me," helping send the album into the Billboard Top Ten, which is certainly a testament to both the song and the album, but it's hard to separate its success from that of Rod Stewart's sudden solo stardom. In the mere months that separated Long Player and A Nod, Rod had a phenomenal hit with "Maggie May" and Every Picture Tells a Story, his third solo album, something that would soon irreparably damage the band, but at the time it was mere good fortune, helping bring them some collateral success that they deserved. Certainly, it didn't change the character of the album itself, which is the tightest record the band ever made. Granted that may be a relative term, since sloppiness is at the heart of the band, but this doesn't feel cobbled together (which the otherwise excellent Long Player did) and it serves up tremendous song after tremendous song, starting with the mean, propulsive "Miss Judy's Farm" and ending with the rampaging good times of "That's All You Need." In between, Ronnie Lane serves up dirty jokes (the exquisitely funny "You're So Rude") and heartbreaking ballads (the absolutely beautiful "Debris"), the band reworks a classic as their own (Chuck Berry's "Memphis") and generally serves up a nonstop party. There are few records that feel like a never-ending party like A Nod -- the slow moments are for slow dancing, and as soon as it's over, it's hard not to want to do it all over again. It's another classic -- and when you consider that the band also had Long Player to their credit and had their hands all over Every Picture in 1971, it's hard to imagine another band or singer having a year more extraordinary as this.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:30 (thirteen years ago)
110. THE TEMPTATIONS Psychedelic Shack (1965 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #122 for 1970 , #3731 overall | Acclaimed: #2091http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MKPCNoZwg3E/S8xKChMxZRI/AAAAAAAAAGo/VGvDzQBQdds/s1600/front.JPGhttp://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MKPCNoZwg3E/S8xKChMxZRI/AAAAAAAAAGo/VGvDzQBQdds/s1600/front.JPGspotify:album:6EZOySzrmVL0KvBjeMQ0za
It's no accident that the best cut here begins "Ain't no words to this song." For all the hyperactivity of his horn charts, Norman Whitfield is a lot better equipped to get funky than to lead Motown's belated raid on "relevance," and many of these lyrics are dreadful. Several of them are quite all right, though, and "War" does help mitigate the climactic wishy-wash of "Friendship Train." More to the point, the singing and playing really do fuse the production styles of Smokey and Sly, a major achievement. Why do white people challenge these songs so much quicker than they did "Lucy in the Sky" or "Happiness Is a Warm Gun"? Are friendship trains any dumber than bed-ins? B -- R. ChristgauListeners already familiar with Cloud Nine and Puzzle People will need no general introduction to the dominant style of Psychedelic Shack, a style which has become perhaps a bit too familiar by now. Nonetheless, those who have been turned off by the routineness of the title song shouldn't keep away from the album on that account, for the recent Tempts have been a rarity among Motown groups--a group whose obscure album cuts have been more adventurous and more arresting than their hit singles. This album deserves a favorable notice if only for its magnificent eight-minute version of Gladys Knight's "Friendship Train," which milks the gospel potential of the song and is tightly held together by some brilliant guitar work by one of those every-anonymous great Motown musicians. Not all the extended cuts that have been coming out lately on soul albums really justify their length; this one does. On first playing, Psychedelic Shack is a lot less fun than Puzzle People. Certainy its individual cuts lack the same kind of definition and are less memorable as songs--they all seem to blend in with each other, submerged in the heavy rhythms of the title cut--and there is nothing comparable to the variety achieved on teh previous albulm by such diversely exciting things as "Message from a Black Man," "It's Your Thing," and "You Don't Love Me No More." But the new album improves with each playing and its apparent limitations have come to sound like something else again. Puzzle People was a more song-oriented album, with each three minutes promising a totally different experience from the three minutes before--an album equally suited to playing in full or jumping around selecting favorite bands. Psychedelic Shack, on the other hand, gains decidedly from being played through from beginning to end, its individual songs seemingly growing out of each other with a cumulative effect.Another advance can be seen in the predominantly middle-range length (four minutes) of the tracks--long enough to accommodate the kinds of internal flexibility and playfulness which previously stood out as a specal feature of those eight-minute exercises, "Runaway Child" and "Slave." Thus the album has its own kind of diversity, one that shows up more within the cuts than between them, and a more subtle unity replacing the sharp contrasts between eight-minute extravaganzas and tightly structured three-minute spinoffs. A related subtlety characterizes the use of psychedelic instrumental effects, which on Puzzle People seemed at times a little too flamboyantly applied--a matter of techniques just being discovered and not yet completely assimilated. Here they are ketp more under control, and support the vocals better. It is a pleasure to listen to the highly complex opening of "You Make Your Own Heaven and Hell," the complete adequacy of the seemingly insubstantial "Hum Along and DAnce," and the beautifully integrated arrangement of "Take a Stroll Through Your Mind," which quietly outclasses more pretentious "jazz-rock" groups.This album also continues the Tempts' movement into "message" lyrics, with more songs cast in a poetic-philosophical vein than on any previous album. a problem here (analogous to the overly mechanical rhythms commonly occurring when commercial soul groups "go psychedelic") is that the message tends to be too explicit, too expository. In "War," a very effective song where the vocal bursts out like gunfire from a military march background, the rhetorical question "War, what is it good for?" is met with a resounding "Absolutely nothing!" It might be better if the answer were left blowin' in the wind. -- Arnold Brodsky, RS
Listeners already familiar with Cloud Nine and Puzzle People will need no general introduction to the dominant style of Psychedelic Shack, a style which has become perhaps a bit too familiar by now. Nonetheless, those who have been turned off by the routineness of the title song shouldn't keep away from the album on that account, for the recent Tempts have been a rarity among Motown groups--a group whose obscure album cuts have been more adventurous and more arresting than their hit singles. This album deserves a favorable notice if only for its magnificent eight-minute version of Gladys Knight's "Friendship Train," which milks the gospel potential of the song and is tightly held together by some brilliant guitar work by one of those every-anonymous great Motown musicians. Not all the extended cuts that have been coming out lately on soul albums really justify their length; this one does.
On first playing, Psychedelic Shack is a lot less fun than Puzzle People. Certainy its individual cuts lack the same kind of definition and are less memorable as songs--they all seem to blend in with each other, submerged in the heavy rhythms of the title cut--and there is nothing comparable to the variety achieved on teh previous albulm by such diversely exciting things as "Message from a Black Man," "It's Your Thing," and "You Don't Love Me No More." But the new album improves with each playing and its apparent limitations have come to sound like something else again. Puzzle People was a more song-oriented album, with each three minutes promising a totally different experience from the three minutes before--an album equally suited to playing in full or jumping around selecting favorite bands. Psychedelic Shack, on the other hand, gains decidedly from being played through from beginning to end, its individual songs seemingly growing out of each other with a cumulative effect.
Another advance can be seen in the predominantly middle-range length (four minutes) of the tracks--long enough to accommodate the kinds of internal flexibility and playfulness which previously stood out as a specal feature of those eight-minute exercises, "Runaway Child" and "Slave." Thus the album has its own kind of diversity, one that shows up more within the cuts than between them, and a more subtle unity replacing the sharp contrasts between eight-minute extravaganzas and tightly structured three-minute spinoffs. A related subtlety characterizes the use of psychedelic instrumental effects, which on Puzzle People seemed at times a little too flamboyantly applied--a matter of techniques just being discovered and not yet completely assimilated. Here they are ketp more under control, and support the vocals better. It is a pleasure to listen to the highly complex opening of "You Make Your Own Heaven and Hell," the complete adequacy of the seemingly insubstantial "Hum Along and DAnce," and the beautifully integrated arrangement of "Take a Stroll Through Your Mind," which quietly outclasses more pretentious "jazz-rock" groups.
This album also continues the Tempts' movement into "message" lyrics, with more songs cast in a poetic-philosophical vein than on any previous album. a problem here (analogous to the overly mechanical rhythms commonly occurring when commercial soul groups "go psychedelic") is that the message tends to be too explicit, too expository. In "War," a very effective song where the vocal bursts out like gunfire from a military march background, the rhetorical question "War, what is it good for?" is met with a resounding "Absolutely nothing!" It might be better if the answer were left blowin' in the wind. -- Arnold Brodsky, RS
review[-] by Amy HansonWith everything the Temptations released pretty much guaranteed to turn to gold, not to mention platinum for that matter, even their tripped-out forays into sweet '60s psychedelic experimentation were sure to fire a string of hits. 1970's Norman Whitfield-produced Psychedelic Shack -- while perhaps a system shock to those fans who grooved to the band's lame-suited, Motown dance-routined R&B classics -- was a magnificent stretch into an epic and ultimately emerged as another in a long line of enduring sets. Deviating from form across the first songs, it was with the whimsical and willful title track (and a big thanks to the band from Georgia retro-ists the B-52's, who took their own homage, "Love Shack," to the top of the charts in 1989) that the Temptations broke their own mold with the acid-drenched party chant: "Psychedelic shack/That's where it's at." Opening that door and venturing outside the nonstop celebration, the band retains that vibe while returning to a slightly more staid stance on "Hum Along and Dance," leaving both the oddly paced "You Make Your Own Heaven and Hell Right Here on Earth" and the totally tripped-out "Take a Stroll Thru Your Mind" out on their own plane entirely. With such a strong collection of songs, it couldn't get much better than that. But, of course, it does, as the Temptations blister through the groovers "It's Summer" and "Friendship Train." And that, of course, just leaves the Whitfield-penned classic "War" to round out the mix. While fellow Motown-er Edwin Starr has etched what is now considered to be the definitive version of the song into the history tablets, the Temptations certainly took their own inspiration and added a unique spin as well. Not much else can be said, except that this is an absolutely outstanding album -- one which has stood the test of time, sounding as fresh as it did upon initial release. And for those who still suffer the scratchy vinyl, a 2002 CD reissue of the album on Dutch Motown finds Psychedelic Shack cunningly paired with the similarly superlative All Directions in a neat two-disc package.
With everything the Temptations released pretty much guaranteed to turn to gold, not to mention platinum for that matter, even their tripped-out forays into sweet '60s psychedelic experimentation were sure to fire a string of hits. 1970's Norman Whitfield-produced Psychedelic Shack -- while perhaps a system shock to those fans who grooved to the band's lame-suited, Motown dance-routined R&B classics -- was a magnificent stretch into an epic and ultimately emerged as another in a long line of enduring sets. Deviating from form across the first songs, it was with the whimsical and willful title track (and a big thanks to the band from Georgia retro-ists the B-52's, who took their own homage, "Love Shack," to the top of the charts in 1989) that the Temptations broke their own mold with the acid-drenched party chant: "Psychedelic shack/That's where it's at." Opening that door and venturing outside the nonstop celebration, the band retains that vibe while returning to a slightly more staid stance on "Hum Along and Dance," leaving both the oddly paced "You Make Your Own Heaven and Hell Right Here on Earth" and the totally tripped-out "Take a Stroll Thru Your Mind" out on their own plane entirely. With such a strong collection of songs, it couldn't get much better than that. But, of course, it does, as the Temptations blister through the groovers "It's Summer" and "Friendship Train." And that, of course, just leaves the Whitfield-penned classic "War" to round out the mix. While fellow Motown-er Edwin Starr has etched what is now considered to be the definitive version of the song into the history tablets, the Temptations certainly took their own inspiration and added a unique spin as well. Not much else can be said, except that this is an absolutely outstanding album -- one which has stood the test of time, sounding as fresh as it did upon initial release. And for those who still suffer the scratchy vinyl, a 2002 CD reissue of the album on Dutch Motown finds Psychedelic Shack cunningly paired with the similarly superlative All Directions in a neat two-disc package.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:40 (thirteen years ago)
109. SPARKS Kimono My House (1966 Points, 14 Votes, 1 #1)RYM: #25 for 1974 , #928 overall | Acclaimed: #772
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/669/MI0000669534.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Moving to London and recruiting an all-new set of sidemen, keyboardist Ron and singer Russell hooked up with producer Muff Winwood and made a series of singles (many included on the first two Island albums) that turned them into enormously popular glam-pop teen idols. Mixing prolix and profoundly funny wordplay with killer hooks and a solid guitar-and-piano-based sound, Sparks were the forerunners (and, to some extent, instigators) of the skinny tie Anglo-pop revival that swept America a few years later. Two brilliant albums (Kimono My House and Propaganda) worked that irresistible formula, but the gimmickry wore thin. -- Trouser PressLike 10cc, Sparks plays music that is deeply rooted in the mid-Sixties "pop" vein -- in fact, the uninitiated musical historian might well mistake them for the Honeycombs, whose "Have I the Right" bears a strong resemblance to the entirety Of Kimono My House. Muff Winwood's production of this, Sparks' Third Lp, has given the band a greater degree of contemporary (heavier) instrumental sound but at the cost of obfusdating the whimsical lyricism of head writer Ron Mal. The already annoying chirping yodels of singer Russell Mael become a disappointing stab at intelligible vocals, sadly disguising the fact that Ron Mael is a composer with both a unique (if Slightly Warped) perspective and a volatile sense of humor. With greater degree of intelligible vocals Kimono My House would make a great conversation piece, But, as is, only its lyric sheet bears attention. -- Gordon Fletcher, RSSparks are actually an example of a relative success story. The band tirelessly kept at it and people gradually began to recognize how brilliantly witty their music was. The results of their 35+ year long career is an extremely devoted cult following. Brothers Ron and Russell Mael formed a band called Halfnelson while attending UCLA in 1970. Despite Todd Rundgren producing their self-titled debut in 1971, their quirky art pop was a bit ahead of its time to find and audience yet. They changed their name to Sparks and released the amazing and weird Woofer In Tweeter’s Clothing in 1973. They were treated so well during their U.K. tour that they decided London was the place for them, and just as Jobriath should have done, stayed there. After recruiting new band members, they recorded their best album yet, Kimono My House. While it dabbled in bubblegum glam, it was even more distinctive than their previous album. They scored hits in Britain with “This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us” and “Amateur Hour,” while other cuts like “Here In Heaven” were even more amazing. Their string of brilliant albums continued with Propaganda (1974), Indiscreet (1975) and Big Beat (1976). Three decades later, they’re still releasing new music worthy of their legacy. -- Fastnbulbous
Like 10cc, Sparks plays music that is deeply rooted in the mid-Sixties "pop" vein -- in fact, the uninitiated musical historian might well mistake them for the Honeycombs, whose "Have I the Right" bears a strong resemblance to the entirety Of Kimono My House. Muff Winwood's production of this, Sparks' Third Lp, has given the band a greater degree of contemporary (heavier) instrumental sound but at the cost of obfusdating the whimsical lyricism of head writer Ron Mal. The already annoying chirping yodels of singer Russell Mael become a disappointing stab at intelligible vocals, sadly disguising the fact that Ron Mael is a composer with both a unique (if Slightly Warped) perspective and a volatile sense of humor. With greater degree of intelligible vocals Kimono My House would make a great conversation piece, But, as is, only its lyric sheet bears attention. -- Gordon Fletcher, RS
Sparks are actually an example of a relative success story. The band tirelessly kept at it and people gradually began to recognize how brilliantly witty their music was. The results of their 35+ year long career is an extremely devoted cult following. Brothers Ron and Russell Mael formed a band called Halfnelson while attending UCLA in 1970. Despite Todd Rundgren producing their self-titled debut in 1971, their quirky art pop was a bit ahead of its time to find and audience yet. They changed their name to Sparks and released the amazing and weird Woofer In Tweeter’s Clothing in 1973. They were treated so well during their U.K. tour that they decided London was the place for them, and just as Jobriath should have done, stayed there. After recruiting new band members, they recorded their best album yet, Kimono My House. While it dabbled in bubblegum glam, it was even more distinctive than their previous album. They scored hits in Britain with “This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us” and “Amateur Hour,” while other cuts like “Here In Heaven” were even more amazing. Their string of brilliant albums continued with Propaganda (1974), Indiscreet (1975) and Big Beat (1976). Three decades later, they’re still releasing new music worthy of their legacy. -- Fastnbulbous
reviewby Stephen CookArguably one of Sparks' best albums, 1974's Kimono My House finds the brothers Mael (Ron wrote most the songs and played keyboards, while Russell was the singing frontman) ingeniously playing their guitar- and keyboard-heavy pop mix on 12 consistently fine tracks. Adding a touch of bubblegum, and even some of Zappa's own song-centric experimentalism to the menu, the Maels spruce up a sleazy Sunset Strip with a bevy of Broadway-worthy performances here: as the band expertly revs up the glam rock-meets-Andrew Lloyd Webber backdrops, Russell sends things into space with his operatic vocals and ever-clever lyrics. And besides two of their breakthrough hits (the English chart-toppers "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us" and "Amateur Hour"), the album features one of their often-overlooked stunners, "Here in Heaven." Essential.
Arguably one of Sparks' best albums, 1974's Kimono My House finds the brothers Mael (Ron wrote most the songs and played keyboards, while Russell was the singing frontman) ingeniously playing their guitar- and keyboard-heavy pop mix on 12 consistently fine tracks. Adding a touch of bubblegum, and even some of Zappa's own song-centric experimentalism to the menu, the Maels spruce up a sleazy Sunset Strip with a bevy of Broadway-worthy performances here: as the band expertly revs up the glam rock-meets-Andrew Lloyd Webber backdrops, Russell sends things into space with his operatic vocals and ever-clever lyrics. And besides two of their breakthrough hits (the English chart-toppers "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us" and "Amateur Hour"), the album features one of their often-overlooked stunners, "Here in Heaven." Essential.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:52 (thirteen years ago)
Blargh Faces, need to hear all of that Temptations record, yay Sparks.
― emil.y, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:56 (thirteen years ago)
right now there are some missing that I cant imagine not showing up but that I thought no way theyre breaking top 100, so I'm getting a small giddy thrill from that
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:57 (thirteen years ago)
I'll take Faces over Sparks any day myself
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:58 (thirteen years ago)
Please do. Take them far, far away from me.
― emil.y, Monday, 25 March 2013 16:58 (thirteen years ago)
108. DNA DNA On DNA (1976 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #75 for 2004 , #2091 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/413/MI0000413674.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Arto Lindsay, Ikue Mori, Robin Crutchfield, and/or Tim Wright recorded 12 songs lasting 23 minutes in four years of boho mayhem, and these songs justify a CD. As Byron Coley and Glenn O'Brien outdo themselves explaining, this was art-noise like no other, more anarchic yet more structured than anything else called no wave: dense little aural paint-bombs im/exploding painfully and sportively all over the world-music avant-garde (whatever that means, which with them was everything). But 23 minutes don't a major reissue make, and so Jason Gross has unearthed 20 more tracks in 40 more minutes. Some of those that feature Lindsay's strangled vocals, especially from the "Fiorucci tape" but also the live "Nearing" and "Brand New," are up to the standard of the official oeuvre. Others reduce to avant-vamps with bassist Wright in the lead, especially the program music--"Police Chase" is quite onomatopoeic--that accompanied a Squat Theatre play. As Wright replaced Crutchfield, Lindsay's groovier tendencies began to surface, the way God intended. But closet prog Crutchfield kept the focus on form. You'll know what that form is when you hear it. If you find you don't, listen again. A- -- R. ChristgauThe band matured on A Taste of DNA. Six pithy, polished statements show Kabuki-painted drummer Ikue Mori coming into her own as a tight, tireless master of shifting asymmetrical rhythm; Lindsay drawls, yells, yelps, gulps, burbles and gurgles his way to left-field legend. Replacing Crutchfield's monolithic riffing is the sensitive, painterly bass of Tim Wright. This is no formless anarchic blare — each piece is a painstakingly crafted kernel of ideas organized with fearless unorthodoxy. Released more than 20 years later, DNA on DNA compiles the band's studio oeuvre (the potently wound "You & You" 7- inch, the occasionally less frenzied No New York quartet, A Taste of DNA and an obscure leftover called "Grapefruit") with previously unreleased live recordings from 1978, 1980 and 1982. The 32 tracks are a final statement that sound and feel, two decades after the fact, more familiar, more bracingly unprecedented and — face it — fun than ever. -- Trouser Press
The band matured on A Taste of DNA. Six pithy, polished statements show Kabuki-painted drummer Ikue Mori coming into her own as a tight, tireless master of shifting asymmetrical rhythm; Lindsay drawls, yells, yelps, gulps, burbles and gurgles his way to left-field legend. Replacing Crutchfield's monolithic riffing is the sensitive, painterly bass of Tim Wright. This is no formless anarchic blare — each piece is a painstakingly crafted kernel of ideas organized with fearless unorthodoxy. Released more than 20 years later, DNA on DNA compiles the band's studio oeuvre (the potently wound "You & You" 7- inch, the occasionally less frenzied No New York quartet, A Taste of DNA and an obscure leftover called "Grapefruit") with previously unreleased live recordings from 1978, 1980 and 1982. The 32 tracks are a final statement that sound and feel, two decades after the fact, more familiar, more bracingly unprecedented and — face it — fun than ever. -- Trouser Press
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:00 (thirteen years ago)
what a travesty that Kimono didn't crack the top 100 I tell you
― today's tom soy yum, mean mean thai (Spectrist), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:02 (thirteen years ago)
Yet another thing I've heard of, but never heard!
I feel like I have listened to those Clash and Big Star (and even Curtis) albums so much that they are a part of my DNA and I no longer need to hear either of them ever again except for on special occasions. I got really upset when my college best friend Alex Chilton died and have had instinct-level hots for Joe Strummer for literally as long as I can remember (since I saw the video for Rock the Casbah when I was a kid, whenever that was); my CM phase was short but intense and pleasant with good memories. Same for Misfits and probably others I'm forgetting. I love the oldies, but that's what they feel like to me -- oldies. I am definitely enjoying learning about new things more than I am shouting hooray for things I've liked for what is the equivalent of the entire lifetimes of early 20s ilxors. (sorry for the personal tmi)
Have been enjoying Ultravox more than I expected to, esp "I Want to Be a Machine" and the entire first side, really. Wishbone Ash was groovy and downright pleasant when it was instrumental and less so when someone started to sing. As usual.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:05 (thirteen years ago)
man i messed up my math, even older than that! a really really long time, we'll put it that way.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:06 (thirteen years ago)
107. CAN Soundtracks (1977 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #73 for 1970 , #2126 overall http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lBgBAR2AARM/TW4RbP5S-pI/AAAAAAAAAFs/87mxezM-HQY/s1600/Can_-_Soundtracks_%2528Front%2529.jpghttp://open.spotify.com/album/5HSp9OHHK8i3tqBrxbO1dIspotify:album:5HSp9OHHK8i3tqBrxbO1dI
By Soundtracks, Can had refined its sound, bringing the rhythms further to the foreground and working guitar and synthesizer around them. Several tracks feature impressive psychedelic guitar textures; others tone the guitar down and concentrate on rhythm. The addition of Japanese singer Kenji "Damo" Suzuki (replacing the highly inappropriate American vocalist Malcolm Mooney) leads to several rather beautiful songs here. -- Trouser PressThe next lead vocalist to front Can was an unlikely choice, a Japanese busker, one Kenji "Damo" Suzuki. His penchant for vocal experimentation led Can in a very different direction. The transition period was documented by the surprisingly varied and creative SOUNDTRACKS, featuring music to a number of underground films. -- Cosmic Egg
The next lead vocalist to front Can was an unlikely choice, a Japanese busker, one Kenji "Damo" Suzuki. His penchant for vocal experimentation led Can in a very different direction. The transition period was documented by the surprisingly varied and creative SOUNDTRACKS, featuring music to a number of underground films. -- Cosmic Egg
reviewby Jason AnkenyMalcolm Mooney passes the baton to Damo Suzuki for Soundtracks, a collection of film music featuring contributions from both vocalists. The dichotomy between the two singers is readily apparent: Suzuki's odd, strangulated vocals fit far more comfortably into the group's increasingly intricate and subtle sound, allowing for greater variation than that allowed by Mooney's stream-of-consciousness discourse.
Malcolm Mooney passes the baton to Damo Suzuki for Soundtracks, a collection of film music featuring contributions from both vocalists. The dichotomy between the two singers is readily apparent: Suzuki's odd, strangulated vocals fit far more comfortably into the group's increasingly intricate and subtle sound, allowing for greater variation than that allowed by Mooney's stream-of-consciousness discourse.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:10 (thirteen years ago)
(replacing the highly inappropriate American vocalist Malcolm Mooney)
"highly inappropriate"?! the fuck?
― Darth Magus (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:11 (thirteen years ago)
what I thought
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:12 (thirteen years ago)
lol, wtf?
― emil.y, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:12 (thirteen years ago)
107?
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:13 (thirteen years ago)
I hope one day to be described as "highly inappropriate".
― emil.y, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:13 (thirteen years ago)
Anyone dismissing Mooney is a fool.
― Damo Suzuki's Parrot, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:13 (thirteen years ago)
what I thought too, emil.y
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:13 (thirteen years ago)
haha xps
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:14 (thirteen years ago)
yes its 107
you had me worried there thinking I'd missed something out
Nice to see some Temptations, but I'd rate these over it, none of which were nominated:
Sky's The Limit (1971) All Directions (1972) 1990 (1973) Masterpiece (1973)
Meanwhile, I listened to Isley Bros' The Heat Is On several times, and while their musicianship is always tight (nice guitar solos on "Hope You Feel Better Love"), it seemed they were shooting for extended ballads along the lines of Al Green territory, and not quite nailing it. I like the idea of "Fight The Power," but I've been listening to that and "For The Love Of You" for over 20 years via the T-Neck Years Vol. 2 comp, and have always found them boring. Sure, I get the love for the Isley Brothers in general, but it makes no sense to me that just about every one of their 70s albums placed in this poll while most of the Temptations were shut out!
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:16 (thirteen years ago)
I need to get a copy of the DNA album...
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:16 (thirteen years ago)
temptations, dna and can in a row. nice!
― stirmonster, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:17 (thirteen years ago)
haha an American in a kraut band?! HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:18 (thirteen years ago)
Lol Soul Desert is one of my favorite tracks on Soundtracks.
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:20 (thirteen years ago)
106. MANDRILL Mandrill (1997 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #451 for 1970http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5UDBa6DLv6s/USe3zXySzPI/AAAAAAAAETg/IGrIhJUZBHE/s1600/Front+Cover+copy.jpg
review[-] by John BushMandrill's debut isn't half the album it could've been, since the band's talented musicianship and desire to experiment were often subverted -- by ambitions of pop success as well as a dry, over-serious approach to music-making. The three Wilson brothers, though masters of over a dozen instruments, still hadn't mastered the added burden of songwriting; "Warning Blues" is perfunctory (as is the vocal performance) and "Symphonic Revolution" is a summer-day soul song with cloying strings. The group sounds much more confident getting into a good groove and allowing room for some great playing; the band's self-titled song, "Mandrill," is the best here, featuring great solos for flute and vibraphone. Mandrill also loved playing with different musical forms: "Rollin' On" moves from an average rock song to a torrid Latin jam and climaxes with a testifying gospel session. Most ambitious of all is the five-part, 14-minute suite "Peace and Love," but the intriguing concept is negated by a few bizarre pieces, one of which sounds like a parody of a Vincent Price reading over a Santana jam. The band would soon learn that experimentation and stylistic change-ups were a means, not an end.
Mandrill's debut isn't half the album it could've been, since the band's talented musicianship and desire to experiment were often subverted -- by ambitions of pop success as well as a dry, over-serious approach to music-making. The three Wilson brothers, though masters of over a dozen instruments, still hadn't mastered the added burden of songwriting; "Warning Blues" is perfunctory (as is the vocal performance) and "Symphonic Revolution" is a summer-day soul song with cloying strings. The group sounds much more confident getting into a good groove and allowing room for some great playing; the band's self-titled song, "Mandrill," is the best here, featuring great solos for flute and vibraphone. Mandrill also loved playing with different musical forms: "Rollin' On" moves from an average rock song to a torrid Latin jam and climaxes with a testifying gospel session. Most ambitious of all is the five-part, 14-minute suite "Peace and Love," but the intriguing concept is negated by a few bizarre pieces, one of which sounds like a parody of a Vincent Price reading over a Santana jam. The band would soon learn that experimentation and stylistic change-ups were a means, not an end.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayhpzgUrPQM
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:20 (thirteen years ago)
^amazing footage
Yeah but these embeds are really going to make this mammoth thread impossible to load for some people.
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:25 (thirteen years ago)
lol the only thing that allows me to do it is having images turned off
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:26 (thirteen years ago)
'it' = obv following this thread
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:27 (thirteen years ago)
I'll start a new thread when we reach 100(with a recap at top)
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:28 (thirteen years ago)
105. MAGAZINE Real Life (2013 Points, 16 Votes)RYM: #20 for 1978 , #815 overall | Acclaimed: #1321http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/026/MI0000026511.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/5cy3t8bW0lNzw9hjCPkRUTspotify:album:5cy3t8bW0lNzw9hjCPkRUT
Produced by John Leckie, Real Life sports an eerie Grand Guignol sound throughout its nine punchy pop tunes, including the Devoto/Shelley-composed hit, "Shot by Both Sides." Adamson's driving bass and Formula's electronics dominate the presentation, while Devoto paints a deranged world of betrayal and suspicion, mixing urban alienation with such material as Tibetan mysticism and the Kennedy assassination. But beneath the dark veneer is humor and top-notch music. -- Trouser PressMagazine gets only a fraction of the acclaim and attention lavished on Joy Division not for lack of good music, but because rather than off himself, Howard Devoto worked in an office after the breakup of his band (when he wasn’t working on underrated solo projects and spinoff bands). The truth is, their music is as powerful and groundbreaking as their more famous contemporaries. Just as their name can evoke the glamor of fashion rags or the menace of a weapon, the band walked the line between sophistication and violence. Devoto was a key player in the beginning of the punk movement, organizing two early Sex Pistols shows in Manchester and forming the Buzzcocks. Yet before more than a few hundred people even heard of punk, Devoto grew bored with its limitations and moved on. He found like-minded musicians in Scottish guitarist John McGeoch, keyboardist Dave Formula and future Bad Seed Barry Adamson on bass. He intended to expand on what Iggy Pop and Bowie did the previous year on The Idiot and Low. Real Life is one of the earliest and most riveting examples of post-punk, embodying perfectly the tension between Devoto’s roots in punk and his desire to stretch out, particularly on “Shot By Both Sides,” based on a riff written by his former Buzzcocks mate Pete Shelley. “Definitive Gaze” is a glistening sci-fi chase song that builds upon Eno and Bowie without soundling like copycats. Their definitive song is the glowering “The Light Pours Out Of Me.” Bonus tracks include a rougher, original single version of “Shot By Both Sides,” second single “Touch and Go” and the James Bond theme “Goldfinger.” If Devoto was the emotionally distant outsider on Real Life, he was a glacier on Secondhand Daylight. While it has highlights such as “Rhythm of Cruelty” and “Permafrost,” the album’s main accomplishment is its consistently brittle sound and feel, that would influence The Comsat Angels, The Cure and many others. -- Fastnbulbous
Magazine gets only a fraction of the acclaim and attention lavished on Joy Division not for lack of good music, but because rather than off himself, Howard Devoto worked in an office after the breakup of his band (when he wasn’t working on underrated solo projects and spinoff bands). The truth is, their music is as powerful and groundbreaking as their more famous contemporaries. Just as their name can evoke the glamor of fashion rags or the menace of a weapon, the band walked the line between sophistication and violence. Devoto was a key player in the beginning of the punk movement, organizing two early Sex Pistols shows in Manchester and forming the Buzzcocks. Yet before more than a few hundred people even heard of punk, Devoto grew bored with its limitations and moved on. He found like-minded musicians in Scottish guitarist John McGeoch, keyboardist Dave Formula and future Bad Seed Barry Adamson on bass. He intended to expand on what Iggy Pop and Bowie did the previous year on The Idiot and Low. Real Life is one of the earliest and most riveting examples of post-punk, embodying perfectly the tension between Devoto’s roots in punk and his desire to stretch out, particularly on “Shot By Both Sides,” based on a riff written by his former Buzzcocks mate Pete Shelley. “Definitive Gaze” is a glistening sci-fi chase song that builds upon Eno and Bowie without soundling like copycats. Their definitive song is the glowering “The Light Pours Out Of Me.” Bonus tracks include a rougher, original single version of “Shot By Both Sides,” second single “Touch and Go” and the James Bond theme “Goldfinger.” If Devoto was the emotionally distant outsider on Real Life, he was a glacier on Secondhand Daylight. While it has highlights such as “Rhythm of Cruelty” and “Permafrost,” the album’s main accomplishment is its consistently brittle sound and feel, that would influence The Comsat Angels, The Cure and many others. -- Fastnbulbous
review[-] by Andy KellmanHoward Devoto had the foresight to promote two infamous Sex Pistols concerts in Manchester, and his vision was no less acute when he left Buzzcocks after recording Spiral Scratch. Possibly sensing the festering of punk's clichés and limitations, and unquestionably not taken by the movement's beginnings, he bailed -- effectively skipping out on most of 1977 -- and resurfaced with Magazine. Initially, the departure from punk was not complete. "Shot by Both Sides," the band's first single, was based off an old riff given by Devoto's Buzzcocks partner Pete Shelley, and the guts of follow-up single "Touch and Go" were rather basic rev-and-vroom. And, like many punk bands, Magazine would likely cite David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and Roxy Music. However -- this point is crucial -- instead of playing mindlessly sloppy variants of "Hang on to Yourself," "Search and Destroy," and "Virginia Plain," the band was inspired by the much more adventurous Low, The Idiot, and "For Your Pleasure." That is the driving force behind Real Life's status as one of the post-punk era's major jump-off points. Punk's untethered energy is rigidly controlled, run through arrangements that are tightly wound, herky-jerky, unpredictable, proficiently dynamic. The rapidly careening "Shot by Both Sides" (up there with PiL's "Public Image" as an indelible post-punk single) and the slowly unfolding "Parade" (the closest thing to a ballad, its hook is "Sometimes I forget that we're supposed to be in love") are equally ill-at-ease. The dynamism is all the more perceptible when Dave Formula's alternately flighty and assaultive keyboards are present: the opening "Definitive Gaze," for instance, switches between a sci-fi love theme and the score for a chase scene. As close as the band comes to upstaging Devoto, the singer is central, with his live wire tendencies typically enhanced, rather than truly outshined, by his mates. The interplay is at its best in "The Light Pours out of Me," a song that defines Magazine more than "Shot by Both Sides," while also functioning as the closest the band got to making an anthem. Various aspects of Devoto's personality and legacy, truly brought forth throughout this album, have been transferred and blown up throughout the careers of Momus (the restless, unapologetic intellectual), Thom Yorke (the pensive outsider), and maybe even Luke Haines (the nonchalantly acidic crank).
Howard Devoto had the foresight to promote two infamous Sex Pistols concerts in Manchester, and his vision was no less acute when he left Buzzcocks after recording Spiral Scratch. Possibly sensing the festering of punk's clichés and limitations, and unquestionably not taken by the movement's beginnings, he bailed -- effectively skipping out on most of 1977 -- and resurfaced with Magazine. Initially, the departure from punk was not complete. "Shot by Both Sides," the band's first single, was based off an old riff given by Devoto's Buzzcocks partner Pete Shelley, and the guts of follow-up single "Touch and Go" were rather basic rev-and-vroom. And, like many punk bands, Magazine would likely cite David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and Roxy Music. However -- this point is crucial -- instead of playing mindlessly sloppy variants of "Hang on to Yourself," "Search and Destroy," and "Virginia Plain," the band was inspired by the much more adventurous Low, The Idiot, and "For Your Pleasure." That is the driving force behind Real Life's status as one of the post-punk era's major jump-off points. Punk's untethered energy is rigidly controlled, run through arrangements that are tightly wound, herky-jerky, unpredictable, proficiently dynamic. The rapidly careening "Shot by Both Sides" (up there with PiL's "Public Image" as an indelible post-punk single) and the slowly unfolding "Parade" (the closest thing to a ballad, its hook is "Sometimes I forget that we're supposed to be in love") are equally ill-at-ease. The dynamism is all the more perceptible when Dave Formula's alternately flighty and assaultive keyboards are present: the opening "Definitive Gaze," for instance, switches between a sci-fi love theme and the score for a chase scene. As close as the band comes to upstaging Devoto, the singer is central, with his live wire tendencies typically enhanced, rather than truly outshined, by his mates. The interplay is at its best in "The Light Pours out of Me," a song that defines Magazine more than "Shot by Both Sides," while also functioning as the closest the band got to making an anthem. Various aspects of Devoto's personality and legacy, truly brought forth throughout this album, have been transferred and blown up throughout the careers of Momus (the restless, unapologetic intellectual), Thom Yorke (the pensive outsider), and maybe even Luke Haines (the nonchalantly acidic crank).
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:30 (thirteen years ago)
neither review mentions Motorcade, which is probably Magazine's best song
― delete (imago), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:32 (thirteen years ago)
glad LL is getting into Ultravox! and I Want To Be A Machine especially
dont start a new thread Kerr, unless everybody else likes the idea. I wasnt bitching, I can get around just fine. I don't like that idea too much myself. I was just relaying practical information.
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:35 (thirteen years ago)
Real Life not even in the Top 100? WTF is ILM all about these days? Do we need an intervention?
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:36 (thirteen years ago)
No its ok, a few people said on FB that they couldnt load the thread so was going to start a new one at #100 anyway. Dont want people having to miss out because of browser issues.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:37 (thirteen years ago)
It's hardly a big deal starting a new thread
are ILM huge Magazine fans? I dont barely know anything about them except for checking out Secondhand Daylight on a whim...
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:38 (thirteen years ago)
its not like everyone on ILM voted you know
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:38 (thirteen years ago)
there may well be plenty magazine fans who didn't vote
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:39 (thirteen years ago)
weird. i run a very low spec xp laptop via a crummy wi-fi connection, and not had problems with this thread ..
― mark e, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:39 (thirteen years ago)
I am against a new thread but that's cause I have a nice computer.
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:40 (thirteen years ago)
I dunno that album had a lot of tracks place n the other poll though.
my love for magazine clicked into place this year ..
― mark e, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:40 (thirteen years ago)
104. MAN Rhinos, Winos & Lunatics (2019 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #377 for 1974http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/654/MI0000654680.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
Compounding once and future Iceberg Deke Leonard with two Help Yourselfers and the minimum quota of Williamses and Joneses, this is the best record to come out of San Francisco in quite a while, pretty impressive for a band that never saw the Golden Gate till after the thing was released. The chemistry's right, that's all--Leonard's eccentric dissonances and gullet-model wah-wah are sweetened by the Help Yourselfers and rolled with a steady rock by Williams and Jones. Unphilosophical but trenchant, short on tunes but chocked with riffs. B+ -- R. ChristgauMan is a Welsh-based band with its heart in San Francisco specifically, in the elongated and textured music of Quicksilver and the early Dead. Earlier versions of Man were content to put the bulk of their energies into extended live performances, rarely concerning themselves with transferring their work to the recording medium; their albums have generally seemed cold and remote. But the current band (a kind of Welsh all-star unit, with two members remaining from the last edition joined by former Man vocalist and more recently solo artist Deke Leonard and by a pair from the disbanded Help Yourself) seems more interested in making good records than in jamming into the dawn. Rhinos, Winos & Lunatics has more tracks--six--than most Man albums, and each has been carefully structured. The California-style hazy openness is still evident, but it's been built into songs rather than appearing as the end product of improvisation.Leonard, a leather-voiced and leather-coated rocker; longtime member Micky Jones, still thoroughly psychedelicized; ex-Help Yourself leader Malcolm Morley, who's cultivated a refined Neil Young sound--all are versatile, daring musicians with complementary skills and, evidently, lots of rapport. The songs, all collaborative efforts, stay sufficiently close to pop conventions in a formal sense to make them accessible, but enigmatic lyrics, and lots of wry musical twists and shifts distinguish the work. In its conscientious avoidance of the obvious mood or transition, the band has become a sort of British Steely Dan.There's tremendous compressed energy in 'Taking the Easy Way Out Again', an up-to-date story of unrequited love that easily could have been on Leonard's Iceberg LP, and on 'Four Day Louise', the repeated rock & roll riff which recalls the Chuck Berry archetype only in its high voltage. 'Kerosene' contains instrumental elaboration marked by fluidity and momentum. 'The Thunder and Lightning Kid' and the album's eight-and-a-half-minute 'Scotch Corner' generate tension by juxtaposing pretty, expansive melodies with ironic lyrics. The latter track is further intensified by simultaneous stratospheric guitar solos from Leonard and Jones. Guitar work is superb throughout the album. It may have an old name, but with Leonard and Morley involved, this Man is a brand new band. -- Bud Scoppa, RS
Man is a Welsh-based band with its heart in San Francisco specifically, in the elongated and textured music of Quicksilver and the early Dead. Earlier versions of Man were content to put the bulk of their energies into extended live performances, rarely concerning themselves with transferring their work to the recording medium; their albums have generally seemed cold and remote. But the current band (a kind of Welsh all-star unit, with two members remaining from the last edition joined by former Man vocalist and more recently solo artist Deke Leonard and by a pair from the disbanded Help Yourself) seems more interested in making good records than in jamming into the dawn. Rhinos, Winos & Lunatics has more tracks--six--than most Man albums, and each has been carefully structured. The California-style hazy openness is still evident, but it's been built into songs rather than appearing as the end product of improvisation.
Leonard, a leather-voiced and leather-coated rocker; longtime member Micky Jones, still thoroughly psychedelicized; ex-Help Yourself leader Malcolm Morley, who's cultivated a refined Neil Young sound--all are versatile, daring musicians with complementary skills and, evidently, lots of rapport. The songs, all collaborative efforts, stay sufficiently close to pop conventions in a formal sense to make them accessible, but enigmatic lyrics, and lots of wry musical twists and shifts distinguish the work. In its conscientious avoidance of the obvious mood or transition, the band has become a sort of British Steely Dan.
There's tremendous compressed energy in 'Taking the Easy Way Out Again', an up-to-date story of unrequited love that easily could have been on Leonard's Iceberg LP, and on 'Four Day Louise', the repeated rock & roll riff which recalls the Chuck Berry archetype only in its high voltage. 'Kerosene' contains instrumental elaboration marked by fluidity and momentum. 'The Thunder and Lightning Kid' and the album's eight-and-a-half-minute 'Scotch Corner' generate tension by juxtaposing pretty, expansive melodies with ironic lyrics. The latter track is further intensified by simultaneous stratospheric guitar solos from Leonard and Jones. Guitar work is superb throughout the album. It may have an old name, but with Leonard and Morley involved, this Man is a brand new band. -- Bud Scoppa, RS
reviewby Paul CollinsAn excellent set of material energized by the return of the pleasingly abrasive vocals of Deke Leonard; it charted nearly as well as Back Into the Future, and its tighter composition means that in many ways it's held up better over the years. The second half may be the band's artistic high point -- bookended by the pomp-wah instrumentals, "Intro" and "Exit," it contains the unusually sultry "Kerosene" and the epic "Scotch Corner," which builds up from rattling snare and picked guitar verses to beautiful choruses of harmonized vocals.
An excellent set of material energized by the return of the pleasingly abrasive vocals of Deke Leonard; it charted nearly as well as Back Into the Future, and its tighter composition means that in many ways it's held up better over the years. The second half may be the band's artistic high point -- bookended by the pomp-wah instrumentals, "Intro" and "Exit," it contains the unusually sultry "Kerosene" and the epic "Scotch Corner," which builds up from rattling snare and picked guitar verses to beautiful choruses of harmonized vocals.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:40 (thirteen years ago)
i have the reissue of the greasy trucker gig which as a full length man set (along with hawkwind and brinsley schwarz )
seem to recall it being bloody good.
time to dig it out of the archive ...
― mark e, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:43 (thirteen years ago)
103. MOTORHEAD Overkill (2037 Points, 17 Votes)RYM: #12 for 1979 , #457 overall | Acclaimed: #854http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/384/MI0002384401.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/24i8GMSEEvgr6ImpEYAI9wspotify:album:24i8GMSEEvgr6ImpEYAI9w
Moving from Chiswick to Bronze, and from Keen to ex- Stones producer Jimmy Miller, the trio put out a trio of solid LPs, each with its own merits and classic cuts. Overkill's title track, "Stay Clean" and that ultimate putdown, "No Class," are balanced by the atypically slow, deliberate "Capricorn." -- Trouser Press...Overkills was a record tattooed on our life in most of those formats during our dwindling high school days. The record was one obnoxious crank of a rocker, sticking its finger in the eye of punk and shaking up a bloated metal aristocracy with one vile mess of decibel lunacy. Lemmy in full flak throat leads the charge, croaking through such cat-swinging gems as "I'll Be Your Sister," "Stay Clean," and ultimately "No Class" with its slaughtering of Tush's classic riff amidst WWII axe solos from one pillaging Fast Eddie. The ultimate power trio, Motorhead as a recorded experience was pure unharnessed, unvarnished wattage. They were a band of unrelenting destruction, playing the role of rock soldier, the hapless underdog sent to the front with a jammed weapon. The rough surface of records like Overkill is actually borne of a love of many musics, the band then setting upon, with drunken double vision, a pogrom to gleefully and with good intention, stomp the blues, psychedelia, old Chuck Berry riffs (as Lemmy will tell you) and last week's punk rock under a tarnished metal hammer that always lives to swing another day. Thus Overkill became the band's first realized manifesto, a collection of barbs the band tears from its bleeding, weathered, unshowered flesh in unnecessary demonstration of a most deadly seriousness of intention. 10/9 -- M. Popoff
...Overkills was a record tattooed on our life in most of those formats during our dwindling high school days. The record was one obnoxious crank of a rocker, sticking its finger in the eye of punk and shaking up a bloated metal aristocracy with one vile mess of decibel lunacy. Lemmy in full flak throat leads the charge, croaking through such cat-swinging gems as "I'll Be Your Sister," "Stay Clean," and ultimately "No Class" with its slaughtering of Tush's classic riff amidst WWII axe solos from one pillaging Fast Eddie. The ultimate power trio, Motorhead as a recorded experience was pure unharnessed, unvarnished wattage. They were a band of unrelenting destruction, playing the role of rock soldier, the hapless underdog sent to the front with a jammed weapon. The rough surface of records like Overkill is actually borne of a love of many musics, the band then setting upon, with drunken double vision, a pogrom to gleefully and with good intention, stomp the blues, psychedelia, old Chuck Berry riffs (as Lemmy will tell you) and last week's punk rock under a tarnished metal hammer that always lives to swing another day. Thus Overkill became the band's first realized manifesto, a collection of barbs the band tears from its bleeding, weathered, unshowered flesh in unnecessary demonstration of a most deadly seriousness of intention. 10/9 -- M. Popoff
review[-] by Jason BirchmeierMotörhead's landmark second album, Overkill, marked a major leap forward for the band, and it remains one of their all-time best, without question. In fact, some fans consider it their single best, topping even Ace of Spaces. It's a ferocious album, for sure, perfectly showcasing Motörhead's trademark style of no holds barred proto-thrash -- a kind of punk-inflected heavy metal style that is sloppy and raw yet forceful and in your face. Motörhead, the band's self-titled debut from 1977, had been rush-recorded, and its stripped-down, super-raw sound wasn't all that impressive, at least not relative to what would follow. Overkill is what followed, recorded in December 1978 and January 1979, and released not long thereafter. The band's sound is fully formed here, and it totally explodes right off the bat on the five-minute title track. A number of Motörhead standards follow, among them "Stay Clean" and "No Class." Produced by Jimmy Miller, who had helmed a number of classic Rolling Stones albums (Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main St., Goats Head Soup), Overkill sounds wonderful, especially on the numerous remastered editions of this album. The band's classic lineup -- Lemmy (bass and vocals), "Fast" Eddie Clarke (guitar), and "Philthy Animal" Taylor (drums) -- is well in place here, and they seem eager to rip loose wildly on every single song. This, in addition to the solid track listing and Miller's production, makes Overkill a perfect Motörhead album. Several great ones would follow, of course, but Overkill was the first of the great ones, and quite possibly the greatest of all.
Motörhead's landmark second album, Overkill, marked a major leap forward for the band, and it remains one of their all-time best, without question. In fact, some fans consider it their single best, topping even Ace of Spaces. It's a ferocious album, for sure, perfectly showcasing Motörhead's trademark style of no holds barred proto-thrash -- a kind of punk-inflected heavy metal style that is sloppy and raw yet forceful and in your face. Motörhead, the band's self-titled debut from 1977, had been rush-recorded, and its stripped-down, super-raw sound wasn't all that impressive, at least not relative to what would follow. Overkill is what followed, recorded in December 1978 and January 1979, and released not long thereafter. The band's sound is fully formed here, and it totally explodes right off the bat on the five-minute title track. A number of Motörhead standards follow, among them "Stay Clean" and "No Class." Produced by Jimmy Miller, who had helmed a number of classic Rolling Stones albums (Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main St., Goats Head Soup), Overkill sounds wonderful, especially on the numerous remastered editions of this album. The band's classic lineup -- Lemmy (bass and vocals), "Fast" Eddie Clarke (guitar), and "Philthy Animal" Taylor (drums) -- is well in place here, and they seem eager to rip loose wildly on every single song. This, in addition to the solid track listing and Miller's production, makes Overkill a perfect Motörhead album. Several great ones would follow, of course, but Overkill was the first of the great ones, and quite possibly the greatest of all.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:45 (thirteen years ago)
Was Rachel Sweet eligible for this poll? She's not very ROCK but neither is a lot of this stuff. It doesn't look like Fool Around was nominated, but I bought that over the weekend too and it is SO GOOD! Northeast Ohio has totally represented so far, but she would have been icing on the cake.
― and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:47 (thirteen years ago)
I don't know that Magazine album aside from SBBS. Should rectify that, I guess.
― emil.y, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:50 (thirteen years ago)
yeaaaah! OVERKILL!!!
― Everybody wants a piece of the (Viceroy), Monday, 25 March 2013 17:51 (thirteen years ago)
Those drums, that bass, "Overkill" is one of the most badass beginnings to an album ever! *fist bump my Lemmy figure sitting on my desk*
Rachel Sweet wasn't nommed, and I've never heard Fool Around but will try to correct that soon!
― Fastnbulbous, Monday, 25 March 2013 17:57 (thirteen years ago)
102. ASH RA TEMPEL Schwingungen (2040 Points, 17 Votes)RYM: #147 for 1972 , #4673 overall | Acclaimed: #2395http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/123/MI0002123226.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
After this, the former Steeple Chase Bluesband drummer Wolfgang Müller returned. The next album SCHWINGUNGEN ("Vibrations" in English) returned to their bluesy origins, and again (like their debut LP) it had contrasting sides. "Light And Darkness" exists as the closest any German band have got to early Hawkwind, a wild acid-rock cum cosmic-blues music fronted by eccentric vocalist John L. spouting rather than singing his LSD induced visions. It's intense, powerful, and for some - too dark and unnerving. In stark contrast, "Suche & Liebe" owed a huge debt to Pink Floyd's "A Saucerful Of Secrets", complete with shimmering vibes, a hazy electronic mist, and an overdose of Dave Gilmour style glissando guitars, stretching out to cosmic bliss. -- Cosmic EggBy the second LP, Schwingungen (Vibrations), Klaus Schultze had temporarily left the band to record his mighty epic solo album Irrlicht, an album which begins like a night rally in some unknown stadium then continues into the very heart of cosmic-dom, Klaus accompanied only by his synthesizers and an orchestra which he said later “possibly thought I was mad.” In the meantime, Schwingungen saw Ash Ra Tempel going through its cosmic Stooges’ Funhouse stage, complete with Mathias Wehler on wailing alto sax, in the Steve McKay tradition. The line-up was augmented by their road manager Uli Pop on congas, and Wolfgang Muller on drums, and came on like an organic freerock blitz. Side 1 features ultrafreaky singer John L., recently sacked from Agitation Free for being just too much of everything. And on the awesomely tragic 12-minute “Flowers Must Die”, John L, pre-empted John Lydon’s PIL wail with a Seering death‘s head drama that Never has failed to bring tears to my eyes. The words, like so may translated rock‘n’roll lyrics, have a vivid and dignified poetic truth in their delivery that transcends the hippyspeak in which they are written:“I see when I come back,From my lysergic-day-dreamStanding in the middleOf the glass and neon forestWith an unhappy name: CityFlower must die…I want to be a stone, Not living, not Thinking, A thing without warm blood in the city.” -- J. Cope
By the second LP, Schwingungen (Vibrations), Klaus Schultze had temporarily left the band to record his mighty epic solo album Irrlicht, an album which begins like a night rally in some unknown stadium then continues into the very heart of cosmic-dom, Klaus accompanied only by his synthesizers and an orchestra which he said later “possibly thought I was mad.” In the meantime, Schwingungen saw Ash Ra Tempel going through its cosmic Stooges’ Funhouse stage, complete with Mathias Wehler on wailing alto sax, in the Steve McKay tradition. The line-up was augmented by their road manager Uli Pop on congas, and Wolfgang Muller on drums, and came on like an organic freerock blitz. Side 1 features ultrafreaky singer John L., recently sacked from Agitation Free for being just too much of everything. And on the awesomely tragic 12-minute “Flowers Must Die”, John L, pre-empted John Lydon’s PIL wail with a Seering death‘s head drama that Never has failed to bring tears to my eyes. The words, like so may translated rock‘n’roll lyrics, have a vivid and dignified poetic truth in their delivery that transcends the hippyspeak in which they are written:
“I see when I come back,From my lysergic-day-dreamStanding in the middleOf the glass and neon forestWith an unhappy name: CityFlower must die…I want to be a stone, Not living, not Thinking, A thing without warm blood in the city.” -- J. Cope
review[-] by Ned RaggettAsh Ra Tempel's second album featured the first of several personnel changes, Klaus Schulze having departed for other realms and replaced as a result by Wolfgang Muller. A few guest players surfaced here and there as well, with one John L. taking the lead vocals -- another difference from the self-titled debut, which was entirely instrumental. The general principle of side-long efforts continued, though the first half was split into two related songs, "Light" and "Darkness." "Light" itself sounded halfway between the zoned-out exploration of "Traummaschine" and bluesy jamming, a weird if not totally discordant combination that still manages to sound more out there than most bands of the time. Gottsching's fried solo, in particular, is great, sending the rest of the song out to silence that leads into "Darkness." Said song initially takes a far more minimal approach that bears even more resemblance to "Traummaschine," fading out almost entirely by the third minute before a full band performance (including Uli Popp on bongos and Matthais Wehler's sudden alto sax bursts) slowly builds into a frenetic jam. John L.'s vocals become echoed screams and yelps not far off from Damo Suzuki's approach in Can, and the overall performance is a perfect slice of Krautrock insanity, sudden swirls of flanging and even more on-the-edge solos from Gottsching and Wehler sending it over the top. "Suche & Liebe" takes up the entire second side, the performers this time around concentrating on the quiet but unsettling approach, Gottsching's massive soloing kept low in the mix but not so much that it doesn't freak out listeners. The song concludes on an almost conventionally pretty band jam, something that could almost be Meddle-era Pink Floyd, only with even a more haunting, alien air thanks to the wordless vocal keening.
Ash Ra Tempel's second album featured the first of several personnel changes, Klaus Schulze having departed for other realms and replaced as a result by Wolfgang Muller. A few guest players surfaced here and there as well, with one John L. taking the lead vocals -- another difference from the self-titled debut, which was entirely instrumental. The general principle of side-long efforts continued, though the first half was split into two related songs, "Light" and "Darkness." "Light" itself sounded halfway between the zoned-out exploration of "Traummaschine" and bluesy jamming, a weird if not totally discordant combination that still manages to sound more out there than most bands of the time. Gottsching's fried solo, in particular, is great, sending the rest of the song out to silence that leads into "Darkness." Said song initially takes a far more minimal approach that bears even more resemblance to "Traummaschine," fading out almost entirely by the third minute before a full band performance (including Uli Popp on bongos and Matthais Wehler's sudden alto sax bursts) slowly builds into a frenetic jam. John L.'s vocals become echoed screams and yelps not far off from Damo Suzuki's approach in Can, and the overall performance is a perfect slice of Krautrock insanity, sudden swirls of flanging and even more on-the-edge solos from Gottsching and Wehler sending it over the top. "Suche & Liebe" takes up the entire second side, the performers this time around concentrating on the quiet but unsettling approach, Gottsching's massive soloing kept low in the mix but not so much that it doesn't freak out listeners. The song concludes on an almost conventionally pretty band jam, something that could almost be Meddle-era Pink Floyd, only with even a more haunting, alien air thanks to the wordless vocal keening.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 18:00 (thirteen years ago)
never knew those lyrics. awesome.
― Heyman (crüt), Monday, 25 March 2013 18:02 (thirteen years ago)
101. SWELL MAPS A Trip To Marineville (2050 Points, 15 Votes)RYM: #61 for 1979 , #3249 overallhttp://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/920/MI0001920722.jpg?partner=allrovi.comhttp://open.spotify.com/album/0TAaL5fZZfzvXA85Bm6W4Xspotify:album:0TAaL5fZZfzvXA85Bm6W4X
A Trip to Marineville, released with a bonus four- song EP, finds our embryonic cartographers dabbling in Pistols-styled punk and more experimental noise-making, using unorthodox implements. Despite their energy and tenacious desire to produce something new, the package simply does not contain enough ideas that work. -- Trouser Press
reviewby Stephen Thomas ErlewineSwell Maps' debut album was a scattershot affair, ranging from blistering three-chord punk to free-form noise experiments, that was intriguing, yet frequently incoherent.
Swell Maps' debut album was a scattershot affair, ranging from blistering three-chord punk to free-form noise experiments, that was intriguing, yet frequently incoherent.
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 18:10 (thirteen years ago)
Extensive AMG review
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 18:16 (thirteen years ago)
why does that erlewine hack get mentioned in half the reviews? he regularly shows no understanding. you can find much better reviews on amazon or rateyourmusic - please do so from now on. that you work for a review site shouldn't give you ulterior authority
― delete (imago), Monday, 25 March 2013 18:17 (thirteen years ago)
Please go to ILM's Now For Something Completely Different... 70s Album Poll Results! Top 100 Countdown! (Part 2) and bookmark it please
― Algerian Goalkeeper, Monday, 25 March 2013 18:18 (thirteen years ago)
from wiki: Erlewine is the nephew of musician and Allmusic founder Michael Erlewine.[3]
― herr doktor (askance johnson), Monday, 25 March 2013 18:26 (thirteen years ago)
Lol. Plz could u make yr noise experiments more coherent?
― Drugs A. Money, Monday, 25 March 2013 18:32 (thirteen years ago)
Some of those Houses of the Holy reviews are interesting. "The Crunge" and "D'Yer Maker" make it less than perfect for me but otherwise, it might very well be the apex of Page's composition and orchestration with the electric guitar. V creative mix of jangly folk-rock, epic prog, and groove, with little trace of their early basis in Chicago blues.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 25 March 2013 19:36 (thirteen years ago)