Music

by

The Listening Post: October/November 2009

Rockin’ the Pod the last couple of months:

  • Is This Real?—Wipers. Coming from out of the Pacific Northwest, Greg Sage’s punk band Wipers were an enormous influence on the alternative rock scene that exploded out of Seattle in the early 90s. Kurt Cobain was a huge fan, and Nirvana covered two Wipers songs (“D-7” on Incesticide and “Return Of The Rat” on the With The Lights Out box set). One listen and it’s clear to see the influence. The album sounds very much like what you might expect Nirvana to sound like in 1980. Thick, sludgy guitar tones that wouldn’t have sounded out of place in 1991, plus some really catchy melodies. The subject of alienation and despair play their part as well. It’s unfortunately easy to picture a young Cobain listening to “Potential Suicide” on his headphones in his bedroom. Still, this is a remarkably good album and it’s easy to see why the Northwest alt-rockers took this band to heart. Had they come on the scene eleven years later, Wipers might have been huge. Grade: B+
  • Little Moon—Grant-Lee Phillips. At this point, I’m not sure it’s possible for Grant-Lee Phillips to write a bad song. Pretty much everything he puts his golden voice to is meticulously crafted, lush, and strong. The problem, for me, is this: in my mind, Phillips is a prisoner of his former band, the spectacular Grant Lee Buffalo. Back in the mid-90s, the Buffalo were releasing brilliant albums filled with epic rock songs full of invention, drama, and intricacy and ballads in the finest traditions of American folk music. Since going solo, Phillips has released several albums of adult contemporary rock. Gone is the howl that sent shivers down the spines of listeners, gone are the bombastic hard rock songs with lyrics full of literary and historical references. In their place are vocals delivered in a half-whisper over a strummed, mostly acoustic background. His two most recent albums, Strangelet and Little Moon, contain a few songs that might charitably be described as rockers or, at least, “up tempo,” but for years I’ve waited and hoped that Grant would put down the acoustic 12-string and strap on the electric 6-string. On Little Moon, almost all the “rockers” are front-loaded on the album, leaving the second half sounding like he’s singing his child to sleep. My preference for rockers aside, the first half of the record is the best, from the feel-good opener “Good Morning Happiness” through the tough “Strangest Thing” and the folky title track, and peaking with the one-two knockout punch of “It Ain’t The Same Old Cold War, Harry” and “Seal It With A Kiss.” “Nightbirds” is a lovely acoustic ballad that closes out the first half. The second half is much more problematic. “Violet” is another acoustic ballad, not particularly interesting. “Buried Treasure” has the feel of a ballad from Buffalo’s Mighty Joe Moon, but “Blind Tom” is a ballad too far, a story-song where the story isn’t very interesting. “One Morning,” the fifth consecutive ballad, is also the best, managing to get some blood flowing again in the chorus. It’s brilliant. Unfortunately, it’s followed by another ballad, “Older Now,” which comes complete with a string section. By the time the album closes with the jaunty sing-along, “The Sun Shines On Jupiter,” it seems like the second half is twice as long as the first. There is no denying that almost every song on Little Moon is a stand-alone gem. Listened to in sequence, they leave you kind of sleepy and wondering whatever happened to the guy who sang “Lone Star Song.” Grade: B
  • Lady Soul—Aretha Franklin. Many moons ago, I had an Aretha Franklin compilation called 30 Greatest Hits. Despite my long-held admiration for Franklin, I could never get into the album. I think now that it was because it was simply too much. The best way to appreciate Aretha Franklin is to listen to her original albums, the way they were intended. Lady Soul, released in 1968, contains the singles “Chain of Fools” and “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.” Let’s face it: for those two songs alone, the album is going to rate highly. Add in great album tracks like “Money Won’t Change You,” “Niki Hoeky,” “Since You’ve Been Gone,” and the tough blues “Good To Me As I Am To You,” and you’ve got one of the best soul albums ever recorded. The album does have one or two flaws. Franklin’s got an unbelievably great voice, and once or twice succumbs to the temptation all truly great singers face: oversinging. She oversings Curtis Mayfield’s “People Get Ready” but still delivers a great version. Much less successful is her version of the Rascals’ song, “Groovin'”. I don’t think this soul girl had the hang of the laid back hippie “groovin’ on a Sunday afternoon” vibe. While she does a passable job throughout most of the song, she’s hampered by Mamas and Papas-like backing vocals and at the end sounds like she’s commanding her lover to “GROOVE!!!” after she tells him that life would be ecstasy with “you and me ENDLESSLY!!” Those minor quibbles aside, this is Sixties Soul at its best. Grade: A+
  • Dusty In Memphis—Dusty Springfield. As if to prove that soul wasn’t relegated to America, Ireland’s Dusty Springfield released her masterpiece in 1969, with the timeless “Son Of A Preacher Man” the centerpiece. Springfield’s got a great voice, though it’s nowhere as commanding as that of Franklin. The soul vibe coming from Springfield is decidedly mellower, with strings and a sympathetic backing replacing the grit of the American soul players. Dusty in Memphis plays like a more soulful version of the classic Bacharach/David songs that were brought to life by Dionne Warwick. Mostly, this works. “Just A Little Lovin,'” “Don’t Forget About Me,” “No Easy Way Down” and “I Can’t Make It Alone” are magnificent, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with “Preacher Man.” Nearly as good are the two songs she shares with Child Is Father To The Man, the début Blood, Sweat and Tears album from 1968: “So Much Love” and “Just One Smile.” Once or twice, the style fails her. “The Windmills Of Your Mind” sounds schmaltzy and “In The Land Of Make Believe” borders on easy listening, despite an engaging melody. Grade: A
  • Oh, Inverted World—The Shins. I’ve never seen it, but in the movie Garden State there is apparently a scene where Natalie Portman tells Zach Braff that The Shins will “change your life” before playing the song “New Slang.” Well, I wouldn’t go that far. “New Slang” is unquestionably a killer song and the highlight of a very good album, but on a “change your life” scale it doesn’t really measure up. The oddest thing about the record is that the sound of it reminds me of 1980s indie rock, and I wasn’t even aware that “indie” was a sound. This may be simply because they carry a lot of R.E.M. in their guitars. There are also elements of classic rock, from the opening of the first track, the magnificently-titled “Caring Is Creepy”, which channels the Beach Boys, to the Raspberries vibe of “Know Your Onion!” The first half of the album is the best. The songs that follow the centerpiece of “New Slang” are good but unremarkable, the two exceptions being the excellent power pop “Pressed In A Book” and the unlistenable “Your Algebra.” All told, this is a fine album with moments of brilliance. Grade: B+
  • Fleet Foxes—Fleet Foxes. This is a strong and fascinating début full-length album from these guys. Unlike many début albums, Fleet Foxes sounds like a fully mature band creating a fully mature work. The harmonies are stunning while the rootsy music is sympathetic and beautifully played. Songs like “White Winter Hymnal,” “Your Protector,” “Blue Ridge Mountains” and “Oliver James” have a timeless feel that makes them sound as ancient as they are contemporary. Only “Heard Them Stirring” and “Meadowlark,” while good, are not up to the level of the rest of the album. The biggest obstacle Fleet Foxes will face in their career is the need to expand. The sound of this album is the sound of a band on their third or fourth album, not their first. It will be interesting to see where this band goes in the future. As good as this album sounds, another one just like it would suffer more than most from familiarity. As it is, even on this album many of the songs blend together in their sound. But the sound is great. Grade: A.
by

The Rolling Stones: Their Satanic Majesties Request

Their Satanic Majesties RequestFresh from the back-to-back triumphs of Aftermath and Between The Buttons, the Rolling Stones returned to the studio in tumultuous times. Brian Jones was clearly on the path to self-destruction due to his enormous intake of drugs, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards had been busted for drugs and were facing serious prison time, and the music scene was changing rapidly.

In June of 1967 the Beatles rewrote the musical rules with the era-changing and era-defining Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It wasn’t the first psychedelic album, and in many ways it was only minimally psychedelic, but Pepper was the first pop music album to be treated as “art.” The rest of the music world, convinced they all had a “Sgt. Pepper” in them, broke out the horn and string sections, tracked down Mellotrons, and gave it their best shot.

The Stones, too, got caught up in the psychedelic craze and, in November of 1967, released what many fans had been anxiously awaiting: the Stones’s response to the Beatles. Portrayed in the press as the “anti-Beatles,” the Stones delivered an album that was the flip side of Pepper. Where Pepper was majestic and sunny, informed by English music hall, Indian ragas, and LSD, the Stones’s Their Satanic Majesties Request was dark, drug-fuelled, and sinister even as it attempted to co-opt the language of the flower children.

The album begins with discordant piano chords, horn blasts, and what sound like a drunken choir singing about the glories of tripping on LSD. “Open our heads/Let the pictures come,” they sing on “Sing This All Together.” It’s an insanely catchy chorus but the music is out of this world: African percussion, squawking guitars, bleating horns, harmonies that fade in and out seemingly randomly. There’s a short musical interlude in the middle that sounds like wasted musicians playing instruments they’ve never played before. It’s all very strange, and all oddly compelling. At a little less than four minutes, it’s a bizarre introduction to the album, far from the punchy tunefulness that is the title track to Pepper. Still, so far, so weird. We’re not off to a great start, but at least it’s interesting.

The album continues with “Citadel” which sounds like an evil outtake from Between The Buttons. Keith’s guitar raunch starts the song, and Charlie Watts has a grand time slamming out the beat, but Jagger intones vaguely psychedelic lyrics over a musical background that once again consists of everything, including the kitchen sink. As with “Sing This All Together,” much of the music pops up at random: a blast of guitar, a horn, Mellotron. It’s a tough little rocker underneath all that, an indicator that maybe the Stones hadn’t completely forgotten where they came from.

At least until “In Another Land.”

Bill Wyman’s début songwriting and lead vocal performance with the Stones isn’t a bad song at all, but the vocals on the verses are phased almost beyond recognition. When the chorus comes along, driven by a propulsive Charlie Watts, and Wyman’s vocal is saved by Jagger, the song becomes instantly better than 95% of what was then current psychedelic music, but during Wyman’s effects-laden verses, the song borders on little more than being a time piece. And did I mention that it ends with about twenty seconds of snoring?

Fortunately for the listener, “2000 Man” brings the Stones back to being the Stones. It’s still far more processed than anything on Between The Buttons, but the song itself could have fit on that album. Guitars, bass, drums, and Jagger are once again the order of the day. There are psychedelic elements to the song, but they are not nearly as obtrusive as they are on the songs leading up to it. If anything, there’s a country-ish lilt to the music, enough so to think that if it had been slimmed down even more it might have fit on 1968’s Beggar’s Banquet. “2000 Man” isn’t a landmark in the canon of Stones songs, but it ranks evenly with “Citadel” as the best song on side one of this album.

That’s mainly because side one ends with a reprise of “Sing This All Together” called, cleverly, “Sing This All Together (See What Happens).” It’s nearly nine minutes of the most godawful aimless noodling ever committed to record. Odd spoken bits (“Where’s that joint?”), tuneless instrumentation, a tweeting flute that sounds borrowed from a Traffic record, chimes…you name it, it’s on here in one discordant mess of a recording (it can’t really be classified as a song at all). It sounds like (and may be) an incredibly loose jam by a bunch of stoned musicians, and it is the first truly awful thing the Stones had released on record.

Why anyone would even want to flip the record to side two is a mystery, but if they got that far they were rewarded. The second side of the record begins with the transcendent “She’s A Rainbow,” one of the very best Stones songs from their brief psychedelic period. Watts once again steals the show while Jagger sings a beautiful lyric over a background of piano, strings, acoustic guitar, drums, bass, and Mellotron. “The Lantern” follows and it seems like the Stones may be able to salvage something out of this mess. Once again, the psychedelic elements are pushed to the back and Jagger sings over a backdrop of acoustic and electric guitar. Like “2000 Man,” “The Lantern” is not one of the best Stones songs, but it’s one of the best on this album.

“Gomper” follows, and with a title like that you know it has to be good, right? Well, it’s as good as its title. Tabla players (Jones, maybe?) make this a companion piece to George Harrison’s “Within You Without You,” but “Gomper” actually manages to pull off the neat trick of taking itself more seriously than the Harrison tune. At least George had the good sense to end his philosophical ramblings with a burst of laughter. “Gomper” also reflects Brian Jones’s infatuation with the Master Musicians of Joujouka, a group of Moroccan musicians. “Gomper” is a little too self-serious, but by combining African and Indian music, it’s also a prime example of world music (you see? Peter Gabriel didn’t invent world music…not even close). Of course, “Gomper” (I just like writing that word) also suffers from being about two minutes too long.

Majesties is nearly saved by the masterful, dark science fiction of “2000 Light Years From Home.” Brian Jones excels on the Mellotron on this song, creating one of the finest uses of that instrument in all of rock and roll, while Watts lays down a reliably steady beat. Synthesizers and distorted guitars provide coloring while Jagger sings about the loneliness of space…or perhaps the loneliness of being out on a bad trip. It all works beautifully on this song, from the snaky bass line to the swirling keyboards to Jagger’s distant vocal. Yes, it’s psychedelic but it’s great psychedelic. While most of this album has aged very poorly, this song has not. It still sounds as fresh and disconcerting as it ever did.

Much as he did on Between the Buttons’ closer “Something Happened To Me Yesterday,” Jagger assumes the role of the MC on the last track, “On With The Show.” Unlike “Something Happened,” there’s no real song with “On With The Show.” It comes off like a shameless ripoff of the concept of Sgt. Pepper, but poorly executed. Party sounds, Jagger’s carnival barker vocals drenched with effects as he tells those assembled that “we’ve got all the answers/and we’ve got lovely dancers, too/There’s nothing else you have to do/On with the show/Good health to you.” Not as stunningly bad as the side one closer, but this is no way to end an album.

Written and recorded during a dark period in Stones history, Their Satanic Majesties Request finds the Stones grasping for an identity, following
some sort of alternative path of the Beatles. Listened to today, it’s an interesting curio and there are a few keepers on the album. In fact, if you got rid of “Sing This All Together (See What Happens)” and replaced it with the contemporaneous, extraordinary single “We Love You/Dandelion” the album would be improved enormously. Clip “On With The Show” and insert “Child Of The Moon” (the psychedelic-tinged B-side of their next single), and suddenly the album’s pretty good.

As it stands, Majesties is a failed experiment.

Grade: C+ (only because I can’t give a “C” or below to any album with “She’s A Rainbow” and “2000 Light Years From Home” on it).

by

The Listening Post: September 2009

What’s new on the iPod this month.

  • Backspacer—Pearl Jam. Nobody’s ever accused Pearl Jam of loosening up and rocking just for the sake of rocking, but they might start after this album. It’s a brief collection (less than 40 minutes) and has the loose feel of a band just having some fun in the studio. It’s not as powerful as their last, eponymous album (their best, to my reckoning), but it’s a consistently good listen. There are two tracks (“Just Breathe” and “The End”) that sound like leftovers from Eddie Vedder’s solo soundtrack to the movie Into The Wild, but the rest of the songs are solid rock. On the album opener “Gonna See My Friend” the band surges with a Who-like riff rocker powered by Matt Cameron’s fluid rolls. “The Fixer” is a killer single and one of the standout tracks on the album, along with the anthemic “Amongst the Waves” and the pensive “Unthought Known.” On “Johnny Guitar,” inspired by the cover of Johnny “Guitar” Watson’s album What The Hell Is This?, Vedder even discovers sex, right down to the tried and true rock lyric playing on the double meaning of the word “come.” Saucy Eddie! It’s good to hear these guys lightening up and playing Rock without trying to save the world. Grade: B+
  • Fear Of Music—Talking Heads. I’m really just getting around to Talking Heads. I know they haven’t been a band in about 20 years, but if you’ve never heard it before it’s still new music, okay? The Heads were always a band I never cared all that much for. I liked several of their early singles, but that was about it. Last year I finally gave a listen to, and fell in love with, their debut album ’77. I’ve just taken Fear Of Music out of heavy rotation. It’s a good album, with several songs that are just flat out brilliant. The triad of “Cities,” “Life During Wartime” and “Memories Can’t Wait” are so good that it’s kind of a shame the rest of the album falls far short of their mark. An early foray into world music (“I Zimbra”) is good, as is “Paper” and “Heaven.” “Air” comes closest to the high-water marks of the album but still falls short. After “Air” the album falls apart, the slide beginning with “Heaven” and accelerating with the dead weight of “Animals,” “Electric Guitars” and “Drugs.” Ending your album with three consecutive bummers is not the way to do it. Overall, a mediocre album, but “Cities,” “Wartime” and “Memories” are essential listening. Grade: B (on the strength of those three songs alone).
  • Deserter’s Songs—Mercury Rev. Brings “shoegazing” to a new level. This is considered Mercury Rev’s best album by critics in the know. If that’s true, I’ll pass on the rest of their discography. There are several odd pop gems on this album, like the opener “Holes,” “Opus 40,” “Hudson Line,” and “Goddess On The Hiway.” The rest of the album ranges from decent (“The Funny Bird,” “Endlessly,” “Tonite It Shows”) to unlistenable “avant pop” soundscapes (“I Collect Coins,” “The Happy End,” “Pick Up If You’re There,” and the final couple of minutes of the otherwise very good “Delta Sun Bottleneck”). Overall, despite the occasional gems, the high-pitched vocals and excess noodling make this a hard album to like. Grade: C-.
  • Sun Giant EP—Fleet Foxes. The first recorded effort (for Seattle label Sub Pop) by the harmony masters. This is my first exposure to the band and it’s a winner. There are only five songs on the EP, including the opening piece, a mostly a capella tune called “Sun Giant” that barely crosses the two-minute mark. While sung beautifully, it’s a slight tune, as is the EP closer, “Innocent Son.” It is the three songs in-between, “Drops In The River,” “English House,” and “Mykonos” that make this collection so good. The writing on all three songs push up against the wall of brilliance, and the performances of those songs, with their intricate harmony vocals and swirling, psych-folk musicianship, breach that wall. Grade: A-
  • My Old Familiar Friend—Brendan Benson. The latest effort from songwriter/singer/Raconteur Benson is another fine collection of solidly written and performed tunes. The guy knows how to write a song, that’s for certain. Like all the Benson solo albums, there’s a bit of chaff in the fields of wheat. In particular, the album sags not too long after it begins. While it gets off to a great start with the ecstatic “A Whole Lot Better,” the paranoid “Eyes On The Horizon” and the ELO-inspired “Garbage Day,” the album falters with “Gonowhere,” the turgid “Feel Like Taking You Home,” and “You Make A Fool Out Of Me.” Fortunately, that’s the only bad patch on the album and, as bad patches go, it’s considerably better than a bad patch on an album by, say, My Chemical Romance. Even at his worst, Benson’s catchy and likable. The album gets back into high gear with the excellent “Poised and Ready” and “Don’t Wanna Talk About It,” and maintains that excellent standard through the closing “Borrow” which sounds like Wings rocking out on a level that old band rarely approached. Not a classic album, but a thoroughly solid and enjoyable one. Grade: B+
by

The Rolling Stones: Between The Buttons

buttons

I’ve never been able to figure out why, but Between The Buttons is one of my favorite Stones albums. It really shouldn’t be because it’s very much the work of a band that was standing on the edge of a music scene that was exploding in a million directions with no clear idea where to go. They were no longer the scruffy blues/soul band. They were a flat out rock band at this point, but rock was splintering. Dylan had brought folk consciousness to rock, there was a burgeoning scene that was aided by the use of hallucinogenic drugs, garage rock was inflitrating the airwaves, and while the Beatles lorded over all of it with their ageless classic melodies, the Who were coming up fast with a blistering sound that made the ferocious old Stones sound quaint in comparison.

In the original, UK edition of the album there are no classic Stones singles present. The US edition improves on the English version by taking out the beautiful acoustic ballad “Back Street Girl” and the quasi-psychedelic Bo Diddley-style “Please Go Home” and replaces them with two bona fide Stones classics: “Let’s Spend the Night Together” and “Ruby Tuesday.”

In it’s position as album opener, “Night” provides one of the only real blasts of rock music on the album. The filthy bass and matching piano that start the song give way to the most salacious lyric Mick Jagger had yet written. In comparison to “Night,” “Satisfaction” is subtle. Mostly wordless background vocals provide the amazing hook as Jagger sings about his desire to spend the night with a woman in question. There’s a double entendre about being frustrated (“My tongue’s gettin’ tied” sounds very much like “My tongue’s gettin’ tired“) and a drug reference that’s tossed off as if it was an aside (“I’m off my head and my mouth’s gettin’ dry/And I’m high”), yet the song became a number one hit, unquestionably helped by the innocent-sounding B-side “Ruby Tuesday.”

“Ruby Tuesday,” at track 3 on the album, is another example of a good song made great by the experimental side of Brian Jones, who plays the recorder on the song. Not as innocent as it seems, “Ruby Tuesday” is about one of the groupies on the rock scene. The lyrics are good, the chorus extremely catchy. It is Jones’s recorder that provides the real ear hook to the song; it’s an instrument that’s rarely used in rock music and I can think of no other example where it’s used so prominently. Keith Richards plays great rhythm guitar and once again the rhythm section of Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts add fire and a raunchy undercurrent.

Sandwiched between these songs is Jagger’s ode to loving ’em and leaving ’em, “Yesterday’s Paper.” The misogyny charge that was dogging the Stones gets more punch here: “Who wants yesterday’s papers?/Who wants yesterday’s girl?” Brian Jones adds both harpsichord and marimba to give the song an exotic and unusual sound, while Wyman plays frenetic bass throughout. Watts plays subtly rolling drums throughout and Keith is barely heard from, except on some fuzzy, echoed guitar and backing vocals. It’s a great song despite the lyrics. At this point the Stones were branching out musically but writing solid tunes to provide a framework.

Following “Ruby Tuesday” is a song that may be the best on the album. “Connection” was largely consigned to the history bin, forgotten by all but Stones fans rabid enough to get past Hot Rocks and delve into the more obscure album tracks. It was resurrected by Keith Richards when he performed it with the X-Pensive Winos in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Since then it’s made appearances on the Stones stage, as well it should. “Connection” is a blast of great guitar work from Keith while Brian plonks a simple piano figure and Watts and Wyman sound like they’re having the time of their lives. The entire song gives off that vibe. It doesn’t even sound produced, just recorded live by a band having fun. Backing vocals are prominent, and the harmony vocals are load and brash.

It is one of the unusual things about this album: never before or since have the Stones used so many backing vocals and harmony vocals. They were clearly being influenced by the Beatles, Beach Boys, and Byrds at this point. The charm of it is that they’re really not very good at it. Those three bands featured harmonies that were absolutely breathtaking. The Stones were not as accomplished vocally as Lennon, McCartney, McGuinn, Clark, Crosby, or Wilson. Jagger was a great front man, but Keith’s harmony vocals and backing vocals are tortured. Yet despite the shortcomings, there is an undeniably ragged charm and insouciance to the performances. They may not be letter perfect, but the Stones sure do sound like they’re having fun on this album.

“She Smiled Sweetly” follows “Connection” with a lovely organ underpinning that gradually swells and ebbs as the vocal goes. Wyman’s bass is the most prominent instrument here, playing the lead for about half the song before it is joined by Jones’s piano. It’s an emotional performance from Jagger and a beautiful song. On this crazy-quilt album it’s followed by a ragtime-y piano intro to the wacky (and even zany) “Cool, Calm & Collected,” one of the few rock songs to feature a kazoo solo. Wyman and Watts again play it straight, while Jones and Richards have a blast playing out of tune instruments behind Jagger’s over-the-top lyrics and campy vocal before the tune speeds up as if your turntable had been injected with rocket fuel. Laughter is heard at the very end, which lets you know that the Stones were in on the joke (hey, a lot of bands weren’t).

“All Sold Out” and “My Obsession” follow. The former is an old-style Stones rocker with great guitar from Keith and potent rhythm playing from Jones. This is the only time on the record where Richards and Jones lock horns and weave magic on guitar. “My Obsession” has a growling bass and bluesy piano, and Jagger’s lyrics about owning a woman whether she wants it or not. It also has some of the most godawful backing and harmony vocals ever heard. There’s a quasi-psychedelic feel to the vocals and the music starts and stops throughout the piece. Always the piano grounds the song in blues and Wyman’s bass adds a heavy bottom while Watts rides his hi-hat like a man possessed. It’s not really that good a song and strangely, it’s those awful backing and harmony vocals that give the song enough charm to get by. Yes, they’re awful, but that’s okay. The song’s a lot more fun with them than it would be without them.

“Who’s Been Sleeping Here?” is almost a parody of a Dylan lyric, with references to “the butler, the baker, the laughing cavalier,” and “the noseless old newsboy, the old British brigadier.” Very Highway 61, Mick. But the tune is great, starting with a gentle acoustic guitar interrupted by waves of distorted guitar before Watts rides in and Jones comes in on piano.

“Complicated” and “Miss Amanda Jones” round out the rockier side of the album. There’s a great fuzz-tone guitar on “Complicated” and an organ that adds flavor to the verses. Watts rides a simple beat in the verses before laying down a more complex drum pattern on the chorus. “Miss Amanda Jones” could be the flip side of Dylan’s “Like A Rolling Stone.” The lyric, about a woman of the upper class who is losing her way on the party circuit, is married to a frenetic backing track with great guitar from Jones and Richards. It’s the most high energy track on the album, sounding not a little bit like the Yardbirds, and it succeeds on all levels.

The closer for such a strange album would have to be equally strange, and it is. Jagger’s tale of an LSD trip, “Something Happened To Me Yesterday,” which features Keith on lead vocals for the chorus, is a jaunty, jazz-like song complete with tuba, whistling, spoken asides (“What kind of joint is this?”), strummed acoustic guitars, and Mick thanking the audience for coming, tha

nking their “producer Reg Thorpe,” and reminding the audience that if they’re going out tonight, on their bike, to wear white. It’s a bizarre song, a bizarre performance, and it works perfectly as the album closer. Having heard the album, it is impossible to imagine it ending any other way.

Between The Buttons is a lost gem from the Rolling Stones.

Grade: A-

by

The Listening Post: August 2009

Quickie reviews of what’s been rockin’ the Odd Pod this month…

  • Just Beautiful Music—Gas Huffer. A decent album from the obscure Seattle band. There’s not a whole lot of melody to be found, but there’s a good amount of crunching guitar riffs and a strong sense of humor is evident throughout, as on the ode to wallowing in one’s own crapulence, “Is That For Me?” The music is pretty basic garage rock/punk, but there is a very strong element of Cramps-like psychobilly on many of the cuts (notably “Don’t Panic” and “Jungles of Guam”). There are a few songs that rise above the rest (“Rotten Egg,” “Over The Side,” “Hacked,” “Jungles of Guam” and “Cut The Check”) but the difference in quality is based almost entirely on inspired performances, not on inspired songwriting. Grade: B-
  • Present Tense—Shoes. A power pop gem from long ago. Shoes get bonus points for the very obscure Beatles reference in their name (Interviewer to Lennon: “Where did you get the name ‘Beatles’?” Lennon: “It’s just a word, like shoe.” McCartney: “See? We could have been called ‘Shoes’ for all you know.”) The most amazing thing about this album is that even though the production practically screams 1979-1980, it is the kissin’ cousin to contemporary bands like Rooney and Sloan (“Cruel You” could be an outtake from Rooney’s first album, the similarity is so striking). Indeed, the production makes the entire album sound quite a bit like a collection of demos by Rooney or Sloan. “Too Late” was a mild hit back in 1979, but only provides a small taste of the Beatle-isms and Beach Boy-style harmonies that are evident throughout the disc. Catchy and pretty much irresistible. I have no idea whether this album is still in print, but it’s well worth seeking out if you like melodic, guitar-driven power pop. Grade: B+
  • Get The Knack—The Knack. Thirty years after the release of Get The Knack it is absolutely impossible to figure out what the big deal was. There have been few bands in my lifetime that saw the levels of adulation and hatred that were achieved by this nondescript bunch of power poppers. Listening now, “My Sharona” retains all of the power and joy that it did in 1979, as does the follow up single, “Good Girls Don’t.” There’s also an excellent cover of Buddy Holly’s “Heartbeat” and the album starts off with a terrific little rocker called “Let Me Out.” The rest of the album is as bland and faceless as a Journey cover band. There was an enormous amount of “new Beatles” hype in 1979 over this?? Much of the album is relatively catchy and musically inoffensive. There’s nothing terrible here except the godawful “Siamese Twins (The Monkey And Me)” which is as good as its title suggests. There is an awful streak of misogyny throughout the album. The Knack must have been the most sexually frustrated band in rock history, and they take it out on the women. “(She’s So) Selfish” is either the most piggish song ever written or it’s intended to be ironic as the boys castigate a woman for the crime of not satisfying their sexual urges. The final track is the unsubtle “Frustrated.” No kidding. With attitudes like theirs, it’s hardly surprising the boys in the band ended up spending a lot of lonely nights. Misogyny aside, the music is mostly lightweight and forgettable, the lyrics are pretty dreadful. The idea that these guys inspired an entire “Knuke The Knack” line of stickers is confounding. Grade: C