May 152010
 

Last night my wife and I tottered down to our local hotel. To see a band that I have waited 18 years to see: The Chills, one of New Zealand’s finest exports and central to the Flying Nun story of the 1980s and ’90s.

The Chills have an incredible catalogue of songs to select from, although you could probably never say hand on heart that they had a bona fide ‘hit’. But what has always hit the spot, and did again last night is this thunderous, floor-shaking anthem “I Love My Leather Jacket.”

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The song is a dedication to Martyn Bull, a drummer in The Chills, who died aged 22. The question Townsmen my wife wondered out loud is this. Is there a better song in memory of a departed friend than this one from The Chills?

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May 142010
 

Townsman andyr and his wife have reported the following series of Rock Crimes. Sensitive viewers are cautioned before proceeding to the video evidence, which was captured by the iPhone of an anonymous audience member. The authorities are currently interviewing witnesses. Please feel free to provide your own testimony in the Comments section for this post. Thank you, andyr family, for your bravery and good citizenship in reporting these crimes.

Watch video evidence of Rock Crimes of flash mob proportions…after the jump!
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May 142010
 

Name a sexual act mentioned or described in the lyrics to a song.

Specific acts can only be named once. Variations in terminology do not count as additional opportunities to repeat a specific act. So, for instance, I’ll start off with bestiality in “Had It With You,” by Paul Westerberg (“Like Catherine the Great underneath a big horse, your sexual preference is me of course.”)

All other bestiality songs are now off the table.

And keep your kids away from Rock Town Hall today, will ya?

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May 142010
 

The shameful, necessary task of catching up on my stack of 2009 Robert Pollard-associated record releases continues. Per Townsman Kpdexter‘s instructions my controls are set for Boston Spaceships‘ debut album, Brown Submarine.

Boston Spaceships, “Psyche Threat”

When news of this album first hit I was surprised that Pollard was starting a new band. After all, hadn’t he released 203 albums with Guided By Voices and another 144, since the waning days of GBV, as a solo artist? Why not continue on the solo route, I thought. If he was going to have a new band I was hoping it would be a full-blown prog-rock affair, a launching point from one aspect of his large body of work that would allow him to fully explore that side of his songwriting. Someone interesting needs to don the dashiki and tackle that beast before too long.

As it turns out, Boston Spaceships would present a streamlined take on a lot of what I liked best about GBV: the forearm-pumping rock anthems with a touch of Who Sell-Out-inspired psychedelia. A track entitled “Psyche Threat” particularly satisfies Pollard’s interest in that aspect of The Who’s sound with fast-moving chord intervals and a hint of what sounds like one of John Entwistle’s french horn parts. Quick-strummed, Diddley-esque acoustic guitar rhythms propel “Ate It Twice,” wrapping up with a little Yardbirds-style rave-up. As on the band’s later 2009 release, The Planets Are Blasted, drummer John Moen keeps spry, focused rhythms. In some ways this makes Pollard’s music sound more “normal,” but considering that he seems like he’s been trying to make a form of Classic Rock since the last few GBV albums, if not earlier, why shouldn’t the rhythms gel more consistently than they used to?

Boston Spaceships, “You Satisfy Me”

Another thing that strikes me about these Boston Spaceships albums is that Pollard’s voice doesn’t sound as if it’s running through a Radio Shack mic and cheap, ’80s digital delay, as I grew accustomed to hearing it on countless GBV releases and his first couple of solo records. Pollard doesn’t couch his voice in any new aural dressing, but his voice projects just fine without it on a poppy, straightforward song like “You Satisfy Me.” What I’d really like to hear one of these days, on one of these more-focused Pollard releases, is a lead guitar player (or other musician) who can dig in and “create his own shot,” to use a basketball analogy. The lack of a soloist is not missed on a Buzzcocks/Beulah tune like “Ready to Pop,” and Mick Ronsons aren’t falling off trees, but with all the power chording Pollard favors in his music I’d like to hear someone in his band grab the fretboard and go for the gusto more often. The album-closing “Go for the Exit,” for instance, hints at a steppin’-out guitar solo, but it’s buried. The rhythms are there, Bob, now let it rock!

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May 142010
 

For more recent entrants to the Halls of Rock, here’s your chance to share. Don’t worry: there’s no ulterior motive in asking this question, but someone may decide to take your answer in an unexpected direction.

This post initially appeared 9/22/07.

This one would not count.

Surely you all remember the first single or album you bought as a kid. For many of us, it was probably something in the pop-rock category. Excluding children’s records – whether from your own childhood or your own children’s childhood- what’s the first non-pop/rock record you remember buying?

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May 132010
 

“Didn’t You Know (You’d Have to Cry Sometimes),” Gladys Knight & the Pips

Greetings, seekers of fine worthless music!

I come to you today with a new musical offering culled from the junk stores, flea markets, and garbage cans of our nation’s capitol. This time, it’s a fine old single by Gladys Knight & the Pips, entitled “Didn’t You Know (You’d Have to Cry Sometimes).”

I could go into nerdy detail about exactly why I think this song is so great, but really, all I want to do is fall down on my knees, raise my hands up to heaven, and thank the almighty God for giving us Gladys Knight. Seriously, that woman is/was the greatest soul music singer ever. You can have your Aretha Franklins, your Mavis Staples-es, even your (sentimental favorite) Candi Statons. For my money, Gladys Knight was the best — I can honestly say that she’s the only singer who gives me the chills every time I hear her sing. That voice! At the same time, huge and intimate; joyful and passionate; soft and righteous — just amazing. And “Midnight Train to Georgia”? Forget about it. True, that song may also benefit from one of the all-time greatest lyrics in the soul canon, but when Gladys sings “I’d rather live with him in his world, than live without him in mine”… well, it’s all over.

Anyhow, here’s a tune that may not scale the vast heights reached by “Midnight Train…”, but it’s a good’un for sure. Thanks mainly to Gladys Knight — and, God bless ’em, to a lesser extent, the Pips.

My question for you all is a simple one: Is anybody better than Gladys Knight? (Hint: NO.)

I look forward to your responses.

HVB

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