So this Saturday, June 16, at Central Park Summerstage is supposed to be the final Television show including Richard Lloyd, who, if you’ll remember from our recent Rock Town Hall exclusive interview with him, is moving onto greater cosmic conquests. Teleivion will be appearing with Apples in Stereo and some other band that combines so many types of music that their press release claims they work in an entirely new genre! Farewell, Richard and the real cast of Television. If, as Lloyd hints, they do carry on with longtime solo Verlaine compadre Jimmy Ripp, they might as well be Tom Verlaine solo. I will invite those of you who care to turn up your noses and say, “Yeah, but they’re not the real Televison!”
Real simple question: Are there great soul albums from the 1960s? We all take for granted that the art of album making didn’t really come into being until Rubber Soul et al, but beside James Brown’s Live at the Apollo, not a lot of great soul albums spring to mind if you discount hits collections and other live albums, such as Otis Redding’s excellent and fast-paced Live in Europe lp. I don’t own Aretha Franklin‘s Lady Soul, but that’s often a ’60s soul album that’s thrown into the mix when people list greatest albums of the ’60s. I know some of the songs from multiple hits collections of Aretha that I own. Is the album itself actually great and unified, or is it a typical collection of singles and cover tune filler?
Someone’s bound to suggest a Ray Charles album, and be my guest. I find his music boring in long stretches, but I’ll take your word for the genius of Ray Charles. Surely I am missing a truly great soul album that was recorded as an album in the 1960s! I think of soul album making beginning with Marvin Gaye‘s Let’s Get it On and Stevie Wonder‘s first mature works of 1970 and beyond. Surely I’m overlooking some earlier keepers. Make me feel stupid, Rock Town Hall!
Not really related…more of the fabulous Joe Tex after this jump! Continue reading »
I’m assuming the following Captain Beefheart video features the drumming of John “Drumbo” French.
I love Beefheart and I have no qualms whatsoever with the drumming of John French. He’s perfect for those seminal Magic Band albums, led by Trout Mask Replica. I’m not remembering all the details about the guy’s role in the band, but beside playing drums and guitar in various formations of the Magic Band, I believe he was Beefheart’s envoy to the rest of his band. Isn’t that true? What I’m curious to know is, could the guy drum? Was it French’s chops that made this strange rhythmic magic come together, or was he an idiot savant, paired up with the right songwriter for his unholy skills?
“Electricity” (live excerpt)
Does French play on all of the more normal-sounding Safe as Milk lp? I’m never clear about who’s who on those albums. Here’s a live clip of an excerpt of “Electricity” from that album. This is probably French on drums. He’s obviously following a set pattern on this transitional (ie, to Trout Mask Replica other-worldlyness) number, but he plays with the abandon and lack of finesse I could imagine of myself or any number of other mediocre guitarists excited by the chance to shine behind the drum kit. Does anyone else feel that beginner’s joy in his playing?
By the time Beefheart had returned to mixing in normal-sounding songs (eg, the excellent Clear Spot), wasn’t French out of the band or shifted over to guitar? I used to own that album French did with Richard Thompson, Henry Kaiser, and Fred Frith, but I don’t recall whether his drumming was any less difficult to follow.
Is there a drummer in the house?
Continue reading »
Is this the price to pay for having made it too far through life without having had your mind blown?
So it’s all over, fans of The Sopranos. What did you learn? That brutal dago mobsters have feelings too? That the root of so many of our problems is Mom? That Steven Van Zandt leads one of the most charmed lives on the planet? That even a wop mobster can enjoy getting head from another man? That killing people on a weekly basis can lead to much anxiety? That family, in its literal sense, is what keeps us going? I hope you enjoyed the ride.
As you might be able to tell, I was not a fan of the 4 episodes of The Sopranos I caught over the years. Now that I’ve got my digs out of the way, what I’m interested in is the concept of the quick-snip ending. I heard that the series ended with the Soprano family sitting in a diner, surrounded by suspicious characters, friggin’ Journey playing on the jukebox, and then a quick cut to black. In musical terms, I’m reminded of the effectiveness of this technique on one of those Sex Pistols songs. Any quick-snip song endings you particularly dig? Were you OK with their lack of closure? I look forward to your comments.
It is right to give thanks and praise to the rhythm guitarist who is not concerned with making it “cry or sing,” as Mark Knopfler sang about the guitarist in “The Sultan of Swing”, but should we identify and consider lead guitarists who, although skilled in making it cry and sing, do not display much in the way of holding down the rhythm?
Everyone who professes to care about the guy says B.B. King doesn’t play chords. I have always found his music uninteresting, so I can’t be bothered worrying too much about him. But he seems to be an example of a lead guitarist who doesn’t hold down the rhythm. I can’t say whether his lead playing displays much rhythm; I don’t stick around long when his songs come on the radio.
I think of Jeff Beck, though, when I think of this subject. In the Yardbirds, Beck had that knack of soloing and riffing like there was an M-80 stuck up his butt, but his playing always had a choppy feel that didn’t seem too concerned with swinging along with the rhythm. Can’t say I’ve ever spent enough time judging his guitar-synth solo albums with Jan Hammer. Perhaps some of you can fill me in there.
James Williamson, from Raw Power-era Stooges, played with little sense of a song’s rhythm. He was another guy with an M-80 stuck where the sun don’t shine. What about Mick Ronson? Pretty great lead fills on those Bowie songs, but pretty choppy during his rare rhythm parts, no?
Guitarheads, does this make any sense? Does anyone come to mind for you? It’s not necessarily a bad trait, mind you, but it’s counter to the values so often expressed regarding the merits of the “dual rhythmic lead guitars” of The Rolling Stones, Televison, and other bands typically favored by lovers of “cool” music. Feel free to be mystified.
Here’s your chance to shine on one or a number of seemingly dull questions!
A couple of days ago Townsman Trolleyvox passed along an RTH-worthy question that he picked up from WFMU DJ Mike Lupica. Lupica asked, and we will too, What’s the best band that you ever got turned onto by your sweetie? It doesn’t have to be through marriage, it can just as easily be some ridiculously popular or obscure band that you first heard through an (ex/current) boy/girlfriend, or general heart throb of any stripe.
I’ve been listening to a collection of ’80s underground sensations The Embarrassment this week. I’ve long liked them since stumbling on them as the first opener for PiL and Naked Raygun in Chicago shortly before the release of The Flowers of Romance. They were a great, down-to-earth, humorous, punky pop band that never made much of a splash and would lead, in part, to the formation of another down-to-earth, high-spirited, punky pop band that I loved, Big Dipper. Anyhow, listening to them this week has had me thinking of at least three questions:
- What bands around today rock in a “down-to-earth” fashion?
- What’s your favorite precurssor band to a later band that you also love (eg, The Embarrassment to Big Dipper, The Move to ELO, The Beatles to Wings, Uncle Tupelo to Wilco), with emphasis on love for the precurssor band (ie, simply “listing” a precurssor band to show how much you know will be discounted if no sincere love is attached)?
- What’s the best opening band that you stumbled across without warning?
Finally, as we wrap up an entertaining and enlightening week on Rock Town Hall and head into the weekend, let me know what you think of the following songs that, over the last few days, have made me feel there’s still something worth digging anew.
This first one was particularly enlightening. It’s a song I’ve always loved in its original form but I love all over, in a new way, in this version, which I’d owned for some time but which had never previously made an impression on me before.
Barbara Lewis, “Ask the Lonely”
Here’s another number that I’ve known and loved by Al Green, but this one’s cool too.
Eddie Floyd, “I’ve Never Found a Girl (To Love Me Like You Do)”
Here’s one of the songs I overheard in a Toronto record store in early May that caused me to pull $10 CAN and plunk it down on the counter for my first Hawkwind album – this stuff is totally unlike what I’d expected (ie, something more hippie/prog, along the lines of Gong).
Hawkwind, “Orgone Accumulator”
I downloaded most of a Curt Kirkwood (Meat Puppets) album from eMusic that I had never heard about when it was released. It’s pretty good – much better than the stuff they put out in their ZZ Top phase.
Curt Kirkwood, “Gold”
Some of you may remember a minute-by-minute review KingEd did a while back, when Wilco’s latest was first previewed for the technologically inclined. Today, I’m going to perform my own live review of the latest from former Wings frontman Paul McCartney. The album is entitled Memory Almost Full, and if you’ve already gleaned reviews like I have, we should prepare for his “best album since Exile on Main – er – Flowers in the Dirt.” And you’ll know that unlike his last album, which was previously his best album since Flowers in the Dirt, this one’s not just mournful and reflective, based on the then-recent death of his first wife and Wings collaborator Linda, no this one’s really heavy, man, in emotional terms. Linda’s still dead and now his second wife, the former call girl and model, has left him and former Flowers in the Dirt collaborator Hamish Stuart feels abused. Boy, you’ve got to carry that weight, and today, Rock Town Hall is here to help you.
I’d like to start out by congratulating the hated, overrated McStarbucks for launching its own record label. Seriously. It’s about time that someone merged coffee and coffee-table albums for the middle-aged among us who are trying desparately to hang onto some relevance, or at least recall the days when we felt our lives were relevant. Now many of us are “building for the future” – hauling our kids around, trying to set them on a sound path, secretly hoping they fulfill at least a few of our faded dreams. This morning I decided to bypass my local, independently owned coffee shop and buy the new McCartney CD and an iced coffee from McStarbucks. When the girl at the counter asked me what size I wanted, I defiantly declared “Small.” Let’s get on with this live review…
“Dance Tonight”
This is a nice, opening folksy stomp, powered by a mandolin. (See video – fellow haters of Natalie Portman beware!) Paul’s going to dance away the heartache, like we knew he would, and he wants us to join him. Why not? The one thing that spoils this ditty is an ill-advised fadeout just as the band comes to a true ending. Why??
“Ever Present Past”
Paul puts his voice front and center as he’s often done on his best, concise pop songs dating back to “You Won’t See Me”. The production is very artificial in the way ABBA or his old band, Wings, could make work. Two song in and I’m enjoying this more than I know I could ever enjoy the most-recent Fountains of Wayne album, which admittedly I’ve only heard one bad single from.
“See Your Sunshine”
The first thing that strikes me about this song are backing vocals and keyboard highlights that are highly reminiscent of Linda McCartney’s work with Wings. Despite the sarcasm that is loaded in this statement, it’s a welcome relief to hear Paul refer to his Wings catalog rather than once more reheat the stuff he did with that other band all those years ago. Pleasant song. I’d love to hear it while riding shotgun in Hrrundi’s convertible. The wind could whip through both of our heads of hair. Let’s do it, my friend!
“Only Mama Knows”
Mournful faux strings bode for the first turd on this album…but wait! A full-blown, dual-guitar rocker of “Junior’s Farm” vintage breaks out. Too bad for the Sam Ash guitar production, though, or this would have been a Wings-worthy hockey rink rocker. At this point I can’t help but wonder how this album might have been improved by the contributions of Hamish Stuart.
“You Tell Me”
This minor-chord lament features tasty acoustic guitar and a very cool mini-guitar solo. The backing vocals peek through midway into the song, and I’m reminded of “Because”. Nice.
“Mr Bellamy”
As was blatantly evident in A Hard Day’s Night, Paul was the worst actor in The Beatles. Continue reading »

