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Sunday, February 24, 2008
Off I go, TTBs, to Paris. I have high hopes for this trip as a communion with friends, all of whom came into my life through the songs. You know how important that is. I will sorely miss my family, but I will travel with the ghosts: Dad, whose pride at reading my French reviews filled me with happiness... Brian, who was thrilled at the early plans for this trip, which gave us some of our final bonding smiles... Bobby, who forced Gainsbourg, Piaf, and Trenet on my teenage ears, to my eternal gratitude... Pete, who loved the city of Paris and always hoped to return.
I hope to post some entries here as opportunity permits, especially if the show is webcast, which I think is gonna be the case, and if so I'll post the URL. Take care of America while I'm away, enjoy the freedom fries, and check the NY Post next Sunday to see if my Love Boat piece runs. Gavin MacLeod himself told me that this trip was going to be an enormous success and would change my life in wondrous ways, but I'll settle for his kind imprimatur, some good cheese and - yes - a wee dram of absinthe or two... à bientôt, motherfuckers.
I hope to post some entries here as opportunity permits, especially if the show is webcast, which I think is gonna be the case, and if so I'll post the URL. Take care of America while I'm away, enjoy the freedom fries, and check the NY Post next Sunday to see if my Love Boat piece runs. Gavin MacLeod himself told me that this trip was going to be an enormous success and would change my life in wondrous ways, but I'll settle for his kind imprimatur, some good cheese and - yes - a wee dram of absinthe or two... à bientôt, motherfuckers.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The prog-rock ballad. A particularly unsung micro-genre full of lovely little gems. After punk came along, the foolish idea of "guilty pleasures" took hold, as the catechism forbade any response to the likes of ELP or Yes other than mockery and revulsion. As with any such ideological musical taboo, the rejection of prog was just fucking stupid, as if somehow four crusty little morons with one good three chord a-side were nobler than three pompous keyboard klowns with one good 3 minute section on one of their side-long cantatas. The finest parody of prog was on a National Lampoon album entitled "Good Bye Pop" - a true laff riot called the "Art-Rock Suite" (the album also contained a superb Neil Young spoof called "Southern California Brings Me Down"). But easy as it is to mock prog-rock, go look at some of Gentle Giant's live work on YouTube; some of those things are mind-blowing.
I attended a wedding many years ago; the couple were amiable stoners who selected ELP's "Still You Turn Me On" as their first-dance-as-man-and-wife number (for the record, ours was "Je T'aime... Moi Non Plus"). All was fine - the couple swaying happily 'cross the floor to Greg Lake's romantic bellowing - until this forgotten, manic "swing your partners" hoe down section (with muy goofball fiddly synth farts) suddenly intruded, leaving Mr and Mrs baffled and frozen still until the mellow part resumed. Obviously they hadn't considered that bit, recalling only the main ballad part. And that's one problem with prog balladry... these guys wanted every track to be a cornucopia of textures and tempos so that some guy in a suburban bedroom could sagely note: "Didja hear that, Ant'ny? That was fuckin' 5/4 time right there."
With the advent of e-z editing on the computer, I was suddenly able to - ferinstance - excise all that claptrap about "the show that never ends" and 7 minute rototom workouts on "Karn Evil Nine" , leaving only the cool fake-Irish jig bit in the middle. Swell stuff. Another great joy was finally wedding the first and second stanza of Pearls Before Swine's "I Shall Not Care" so that Sara Teasdale's poem plays intact without the interminable freakout section that separates them on the album like an ornery bridge troll.
But I gotta say, there are a host of truly lovely ballads stuck throughout these prog albums, and here are some faves. You might find them indistinguishable from their chart-topper cousins like ELP's "Lucky Man" or "Dust In The Wind" by Kansas; to that I can only say : "ah, get fucked." Generally speaking, they avoid the power-ballad formulas of most classic rock horseshit, but they aim for something more rarefied than straight singer-songwriter or pop ballads... when it works, they get to the place a lot of today's chamber-pop artists aim for. Nothing too obscure on this list, I think. Make up a list of your own! Show it to somebody other than me and compare notes!
In no special order:
GENTLE GIANT - "THINK OF ME WITH KINDNESS" - This is from their "Octopus" album, the one with the very rad Charles E. White lll die-cut cover. GG were an eccentric act, but pretty popular for a while. They had this fixation with Rabelais, and wrought a weird Renaissance/Zappa music that they acknowledged was an acquired taste. This song is just gorgeous, even with a sort of "inhibited organum" middle section that I imagine might throw some finicky listeners. The rest is a lovely balance of gentle melodicism, soft jazzy riffing and a nearly Broadway climax. Musically, they were impeccable, and this is one of the few things of theirs that impresses directly and sweetly without all their usual ants-in-the-pants hi-jinks.
MOODY BLUES - "FOR MY LADY" - The word "lady" is a dangerous word for a song title. I once determined, in one of my "bad song" moments (I have a hobby of writing deliberately "bad songs" as opposed to the really bad ones I write in earnest), that "Rock and Roll Lady" would have to be the title of the rankest rock song ever. Dunno if anyone ever wrote one with that title, and I'd be shocked if there weren't dozens of them, but I couldn't craft a turd of sufficient majesty to deserve that title, so it remains theoretical. Anyway, Ray Thomas, the big ol' mustachioed galoot who usually just stands there hitting a tambourine while Justin Hayward sings, wrote this song. It's sort of a sea chantey -cum- light country tune with only slightly pretentious lyrics (and I LIKE pretentious: Scott Walker's very medium was pretense, and he's the motherfucker) far removed from all the "cold hearted orb that rules the night" sassafras that fills their albums in between the swell pop songs. It's a wonderful, largely ignored track.
GENESIS - "DANCING WITH THE MOONLIT KNIGHT" / "AISLE OF PLENTY" - This is one of those edit jobs I did on the pc, essentially taking the very first part of the "Selling England By The Pound" album and chopping out the rest of the album, laying in the very last part of the last song, which reprises the melody. (Just cut after the line "digesting England by the pound" and crossfade into the part beginning "I don't belong here, cried old Tessa out loud..." if you're trying this at home) The result is a striking, brit-folky melody that starts plaintive and builds very effectively, with mysterious consumer-culture-what-the-fuck lyrics that give the effect of meaning something real, and maybe they do. Peter Gabriel sings it to a fine turn.
VAN DER GRAAF GENERATOR - "HOUSE WITH NO DOOR" - OK, sorta obscure, maybe, but John Lydon's beloved Peter Hammill led this band, and they - and he - maintain a substantial cult. The rest of the album is pretty great King Crimson-ish stuff with saxes and Hammill's anguished existential wailing, but this is a special gem. Long and slow piano-based depression deluxe. It's a bit like what post-Syd Pink Floyd might've done if they could harness Syd's own mortal terror, as on "Dark Globe." Despite the harrowing self-pity of the piece, it remains lyrical and beautiful, and never feels too long.
KING CRIMSON - "LADY OF THE DANCING WATER" - Here we go again with the "lady" business. Evidently, a lot of Crimson fans loathe this song and its singer, Gordon Haskell. Proves what a load of twats they are. Gordon's voice is a little "rough" compared with Greg Lake's Nelson Eddy bit, which makes it better by me (check his album "It Is And It Isn't" - a terrific set including "No-one's More Important Than The Earthworm" - a great song later covered by Stackridge). Here he sings at a whisper, over gentle guitar and flute. I could've chosen another nice Crimson ballad, like "I Talk To The Wind", but this is more unusual and delicate, almost like some of Donovan's very fine work on "Gift From A Flower To A Garden."
Well, I'm sick of typing.
I attended a wedding many years ago; the couple were amiable stoners who selected ELP's "Still You Turn Me On" as their first-dance-as-man-and-wife number (for the record, ours was "Je T'aime... Moi Non Plus"). All was fine - the couple swaying happily 'cross the floor to Greg Lake's romantic bellowing - until this forgotten, manic "swing your partners" hoe down section (with muy goofball fiddly synth farts) suddenly intruded, leaving Mr and Mrs baffled and frozen still until the mellow part resumed. Obviously they hadn't considered that bit, recalling only the main ballad part. And that's one problem with prog balladry... these guys wanted every track to be a cornucopia of textures and tempos so that some guy in a suburban bedroom could sagely note: "Didja hear that, Ant'ny? That was fuckin' 5/4 time right there."
With the advent of e-z editing on the computer, I was suddenly able to - ferinstance - excise all that claptrap about "the show that never ends" and 7 minute rototom workouts on "Karn Evil Nine" , leaving only the cool fake-Irish jig bit in the middle. Swell stuff. Another great joy was finally wedding the first and second stanza of Pearls Before Swine's "I Shall Not Care" so that Sara Teasdale's poem plays intact without the interminable freakout section that separates them on the album like an ornery bridge troll.
But I gotta say, there are a host of truly lovely ballads stuck throughout these prog albums, and here are some faves. You might find them indistinguishable from their chart-topper cousins like ELP's "Lucky Man" or "Dust In The Wind" by Kansas; to that I can only say : "ah, get fucked." Generally speaking, they avoid the power-ballad formulas of most classic rock horseshit, but they aim for something more rarefied than straight singer-songwriter or pop ballads... when it works, they get to the place a lot of today's chamber-pop artists aim for. Nothing too obscure on this list, I think. Make up a list of your own! Show it to somebody other than me and compare notes!
In no special order:
GENTLE GIANT - "THINK OF ME WITH KINDNESS" - This is from their "Octopus" album, the one with the very rad Charles E. White lll die-cut cover. GG were an eccentric act, but pretty popular for a while. They had this fixation with Rabelais, and wrought a weird Renaissance/Zappa music that they acknowledged was an acquired taste. This song is just gorgeous, even with a sort of "inhibited organum" middle section that I imagine might throw some finicky listeners. The rest is a lovely balance of gentle melodicism, soft jazzy riffing and a nearly Broadway climax. Musically, they were impeccable, and this is one of the few things of theirs that impresses directly and sweetly without all their usual ants-in-the-pants hi-jinks.
MOODY BLUES - "FOR MY LADY" - The word "lady" is a dangerous word for a song title. I once determined, in one of my "bad song" moments (I have a hobby of writing deliberately "bad songs" as opposed to the really bad ones I write in earnest), that "Rock and Roll Lady" would have to be the title of the rankest rock song ever. Dunno if anyone ever wrote one with that title, and I'd be shocked if there weren't dozens of them, but I couldn't craft a turd of sufficient majesty to deserve that title, so it remains theoretical. Anyway, Ray Thomas, the big ol' mustachioed galoot who usually just stands there hitting a tambourine while Justin Hayward sings, wrote this song. It's sort of a sea chantey -cum- light country tune with only slightly pretentious lyrics (and I LIKE pretentious: Scott Walker's very medium was pretense, and he's the motherfucker) far removed from all the "cold hearted orb that rules the night" sassafras that fills their albums in between the swell pop songs. It's a wonderful, largely ignored track.
GENESIS - "DANCING WITH THE MOONLIT KNIGHT" / "AISLE OF PLENTY" - This is one of those edit jobs I did on the pc, essentially taking the very first part of the "Selling England By The Pound" album and chopping out the rest of the album, laying in the very last part of the last song, which reprises the melody. (Just cut after the line "digesting England by the pound" and crossfade into the part beginning "I don't belong here, cried old Tessa out loud..." if you're trying this at home) The result is a striking, brit-folky melody that starts plaintive and builds very effectively, with mysterious consumer-culture-what-the-fuck lyrics that give the effect of meaning something real, and maybe they do. Peter Gabriel sings it to a fine turn.
VAN DER GRAAF GENERATOR - "HOUSE WITH NO DOOR" - OK, sorta obscure, maybe, but John Lydon's beloved Peter Hammill led this band, and they - and he - maintain a substantial cult. The rest of the album is pretty great King Crimson-ish stuff with saxes and Hammill's anguished existential wailing, but this is a special gem. Long and slow piano-based depression deluxe. It's a bit like what post-Syd Pink Floyd might've done if they could harness Syd's own mortal terror, as on "Dark Globe." Despite the harrowing self-pity of the piece, it remains lyrical and beautiful, and never feels too long.
KING CRIMSON - "LADY OF THE DANCING WATER" - Here we go again with the "lady" business. Evidently, a lot of Crimson fans loathe this song and its singer, Gordon Haskell. Proves what a load of twats they are. Gordon's voice is a little "rough" compared with Greg Lake's Nelson Eddy bit, which makes it better by me (check his album "It Is And It Isn't" - a terrific set including "No-one's More Important Than The Earthworm" - a great song later covered by Stackridge). Here he sings at a whisper, over gentle guitar and flute. I could've chosen another nice Crimson ballad, like "I Talk To The Wind", but this is more unusual and delicate, almost like some of Donovan's very fine work on "Gift From A Flower To A Garden."
Well, I'm sick of typing.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
BERRIE JIGGLER NEWS ROUND-UP
Ah. A different post. Let's leave behind the agony of life for a moment and look at something ridiculous. As you know, I have this thing for BERRIE JIGGLERS. Been collecting them for years. Now you see that guy up there? Some guy just bought him on eBay for $2,225.00. Yes; you read that correctly.
< Right there's an old trade ad from the '60s. This was when my fetish started, and this was when these things sold for a buck or two. Who could have dreamed? Now, in my latter-day jiggler collecting phase, I was considered crazy (by myself as well) for spending, say 50 bucks for a jiggler.Crazy like a slimy, rubbery fox!
I have some jigglers that these obviously wealthy jiggler collectors don't even know about! Not that I care about all this; I ain't aiming to sell or show off. I'm just damn lucky I got onto this thing when I did, or I'd be watching all these rich weirdos win every auction, longing for the simple, wiggly, oily bliss of it all.
The other thing it proves is my unerringly great taste for the finer things in life.
And just to demonstrate that jigglerphilia has long been a signal trait of hepness and right-on-ity, I note another original-era jiggler sighting.
The Sterile Cuckoo was Liza Minnelli's first big movie role, back in '69. In it, she and costar Wendell Burton meander through First Love's labyrinth of oofty urghthickets. Some of this meandering is done in one of those funky little cars young people drove back then, and clearly visible, hanging from the rear-view, is FRUGGY the frog. I cannot find an image to share, other than this very frustrating back cover collage from the paperback tie-in. The shot of the couple in this car has been bisected by the art dept, removing Fruggy and replacing him with a field of grass. Nevertheless, he was there. I've done my own highly artistic overlay right here, to suggest the relative position of Fruggy re: Minnelli and whats'isname. Look for him when you see the film, which you should, if only to hear the sublime "Come Saturday Morning" sung incessantly.
For those keeping track of other "period" Jiggler appearances, look on YouTube for a b/w TV clip of the band Cream doing their hit "Strange Brew" ...Jack Bruce has KWAZY BOID the buzzard a-jiggling from the neck of his bass. In my personal collection of Serge Gainsbourg clips, there's a scene from some documentary showing the great man laughing and poking at WUVVER the wolf, also dangling from the rear-view. Gainsbourg. Bruce. Minnelli. 'Nuff said!!!!But Jay-zuss!? Two thousand, two-hundred motherfuckin' simoleons??