Get over it!

I went shopping this morning for an interesting box set for a friend who turned 50 today. He's a cool, smart guy and big Bob Dylan fan but not what you'd call a hardcore music nerd. His taste in the folkier side of '60s and '70s rock is pretty solid, though, and in recent years he's begun to dig deeper into a couple of previously obscure artists, like Nick Drake. He'll often ask me questions about new avenues he wants to take. About 2 years ago he wanted to check out The Who Sell Out, after reading the typical critics' darling hype. Of course I told him to go for it. He did, and he still brings it up now and then. He generally likes it, but it's taking him some work.

I saw a new Richard Thompson box set, Walking on a Wire: Richard Thompson (1968-2009), and I was reaching for it before I saw the parenthetical year span in the title. Dammit, I thought, I'm not supporting Thompson for all the crap he's released since hitching up with Mitchell Froom! Some of you may recall I usually dislike Froom's sparkling kitchen sink approach to production. It keeps me locked out from getting inside the music.

Read more

Walk on by...

I was listening to the first two dB's albums on my iPod the other night, and I forgot that the CD I burned to my iTunes had some singles tacked on. Years ago I landed a six-pack of early dB's singles, which along with awesome cover art included some songs I'd never heard on the two albums I'd been playing to death in the year leading up to that purchase. Way back when and again the other night I was underwhelmed by the song "Soul Kiss." I remembered how hearing that song became a Holy Grail issue for me when I was 18 years old. I remembered how finally hearing it didn't live up to the advance billing I'd somehow accepted as gospel.

Another Holy Grail that I shouldn't have bothered chasing was that first Buzzcocks ep, Spiral Scratch. It took me about 10 years to finally shell out for that bad boy, and it sucks. The Buzzcocks aren't the Buzzcocks, to me, without Pete Shelley singing lead. I never minded Howard Devoto singing for Magazine, despite never finding that band half as appealing as the Shelley and Steve Diggle-led Buzzcocks, but Spiral Scratch is not an ep I'd ever recommend tracking down and paying top dollar for - or even buying at a reasonable price as a CD reissue with bonus tracks, as I did.

You may disagree with my particular nonrecommendations, but I'm most interested in hearing your own walk-on-by nonrecommendations.

I was looking through a boxes of burned CDs looking for something (can't even remember WHAT I was looking for) and found the CD of Martin Newell's Greatest Living Englishman. It's been easily 10+ years since I listened to this disc (maybe because it was in with my "junk" cds and not in it's proper case...and also then did not make the great migration to the iPod in 2005).

I played it this moring and thought "How Did This LP Get Away?"

Do any Townspeople have a CD/LP/cassette that you totally forgot about, found, and wondered how you let it get away?

WORLD's GREATEST BAND! THE ONLY BAND THAT MATTERS!... I'm not going to make any claims on anyone else's behalf, but for me, I found that The Rolling Stones and The Clash, Twin Towers of live rock 'n roll credibility, were sorely disappointing live and actually seemed to derive as much as their legendary status and goodwill from studio wizardry as frequently derided bands, such as ELO and The Monkees. I never got to see the early Clash, documented at their ferocious live peak in the film Rude Boy (eg, the "Complete Control" footage above), but it seems to me that once they expanded their studio sound with the excellent London Calling and the rich Sandinista, Mick Jones and Paul Simonon couldn't keep up, couldn't present their newer music adequately in a live setting, and at the same time lost the focus to deliver the old stuff. Who knows, maybe that was poor Brian Jones' fault too.

Have you ever felt this way about any band you love that was hyped up as having tremendous live cred? Do I just feel this way because I tend to be a "record" guy rather than a live guy, or have you too ever been psyched to see some "amazing" live band only to leave the show looking forward to getting back to their crafted studio records?

This thread won't apply to everybody. For younger record nerds who have come of age in an era when downloads of just about any obscure album can be found for free on the web if you search long enough, there's little risk in accumulating all the mp3s your heart desires. The anxieties that older rock nerds have experienced may not ring true. It must be nice.

Some of you have already walked down the endless path of the hardcore record collector. There's no stopping you now, and if that's the case, more power to you! A part of me wishes I hadn't been scared off this path, but I was, by two once hard-to-find purchases I made when I was 18: a bootleg of the Sex Pistols' last show at San Francisco's Winterland and Iggy Pop and The Stooges' semi-bootleg document of that band's last show, Metallic K.O. As I said, today you could probably download these albums in the comfort of your home in less than 20 minutes. In 1981, a teenage boy without much cash to spare had to make a great investment of time and money to locate these albums and bring them home, with no opportunity to sample selected tracks for free on some blog. What if this bootleg I'm tempted to spend $20 on sucks? What if I hear more of the dude who illegally taped the show hooting and hollering for his favorite songs than I do the band?

Worse yet: What if the bootleg was a dreaded, DOA board mix, with little more than vocals and kick drum?

Read more

In other words, "Go All the Way" and "Let's Pretend."

The subject line says it all. Thanks to Townsman Mwall for suggesting the topic. In the digital download age this is no longer an issue, but growing up, when vinyl was the main mode of music delivery, we sometimes shelled out for a Greatest Hits or Best of... album by an artist we really wished had made available their two to four worthwhile songs on a less-expensive double A-side single or EP.

What I ask of you is that you share actual purchases of this nature and not witty attempts at listing every possible 1-hit wonder with a Greatest Hits or Best of... album that you never bought or intended to buy. In other words, be real.

The first such album that came to mind for me is pictured above.

Exhausted?

It just occurred to me that I did not load a single track from Elvis Costello & The Attractions' Armed Forces onto my iPod. I love EC & The Attractions - everybody loves 'em - and Armed Forces is a strong record featuring some killer songs, but I rarely if ever feel the need to spin it. I've felt this way for most of the years that have followed the release of Get Happy!!, my all-time favorite album (period, not just among EC albums). I feel like I've got nothing to learn from Armed Forces. The arrangements lack mystery and unexplored nooks and crannies for me to stumble upon. The lyrics seem to have nothing more to reveal to me. I never found it to be a very emotional album, and what emotions I once felt for the album have long since passed from my daily routine (eg, "Party Girl"). It's a closed book. A very good book, but closed for me.

Do you have an album or albums like I've described, albums you know you like by artists you definitely like yet that you have zero interest in playing?

Who among us hasn't been amazed by the wisdom of The Hall? For as many knowledgeable individuals who dazzle me with their rock knowledge, it is the collective wisdom of our participants that I find most dazzling.

It is in this spirit that I want to continue a feature that was launched a couple of months ago, not only for the people but by the people.

As originally described, the concept is simple. This is a place to seek specific wisdom from the collective intelligence. These are not to be philosophical queries but rather to seek advice and wisdom on specific rock questions. It may be a place to seek listening and purchasing recommendations.

Today I have a simple request, for The Orockle, one that may spark lengthy conversation, or not, but will hopefully illicit some sage advice.

As always, when any of us consult The Orockle, the opportunity exists for folks to ask similar questions and receive similar advice. The topic shouldn't necessarily focus just on my topic.

Here's the question I would like to ask The Orockle:

Read more

Burnt!

John Coltrane's '60s records were my entry into any appreciation I have to this day for jazz. I love most of the dozen or so albums I own from this period, but Coltrane is responsible for one of the great toxic waste bins in the jazz section of any store or online retailer. I've got nothing against dashikis or psychedelic fonts, in fact, I love them. But put them together on an Impulse! release and I'm not buying. I've been burnt one too many time - twice, in fact - by Coltrane albums packaged in this manner, and I won't be burnt again.

Sorry, Pharoah. I'm sure you'll understand.

After buying a few "pyschedelic" Coltrane albums I steered clear of possibly Pharoah Sanders' best works, but I probably saved myself the money and effort of trying to get into countless other "psychedelic jazz" wankfests. If for no other reason, I'm confident my bias against attempts by Impulse! to tap into the psychedelic rock era were justified by the line I swore I would never cross:

Read more

What makes a decent compilation album? By which I mean, a collection of tunes that is, well, more than just a collection of tunes. I have recently been reviewing Dark is the Night, the latest of the Red Hot Organization's fund-raising records. It's a who's who of the young, gifted, and groovy, including Bon Iver, Stuart Murdoch, Feist, Cat Power, Arcade Fire, My Morning Jacket, and more. It's a magic pudding of an album, a cut-and-come-again collection. I am enjoying its parts but does it represent anything more? Is that what good, even great, compilations do? Or am I just looking at the moon through a keyhole?

A magic pudding

By compilations I mean collections of more than one artist or band.

I tread warily around reggae compilations from Studio One. When does a collection of rare "classics" become the scraping of the barrel? I am rarely curious enough or cashed up enough to fund out. And I run screaming from most tribute albums. Gram Parsons, The Smiths, The Go-Betweens, Serge Gainsbourg...I'm outta here. When is the whole greater than the sum of the parts, grasshopper?

I have fond memories of the early Hal Wilner sorties Lost in the Stars (a collection of songs by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weil, and Stay Awake, the music from Disney films. Highlights here include Los Lobos' "I Wanna Be Just Like You" (from the Jungle Book) and Bonnie Raitt, who I otherwise don't go out of my way for caressing "Baby Mine" (from Dumbo) into exquisite moods. The take out from these two records is that I come away with a greater appreciation of the idea being compiled. There may be one or two stinkers in there too, but I'm prepared to forgive in the name of eclecticism. There's a Martin Hannett anthology, Zero, that is an interesting tour of post-punk (Buzzcocks, Joy Division, Kitchens of Distinction) that I am not ashamed to own.

What compilations have lasted longer than a fake tan?