Blogcritics

Announcement: Short-content feeds

Phillip Winn — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT

Sunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding.

Weekly Artist Overview: Link Wray

uao — Thu, 25 Aug 2005 23:50:19 EDT

Link Wray may not be a household name. He may may not even be well-known among "serious" rock fans. He is seldom played on the radio anymore, only had two top-40 hits in his prime, and quite possibly will never be elected to the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame.Nontheless, Link Wray's contribution to rock was a significant one, and one that continues to endure to this day. On his biggest hit, "Rumble", an instrumental which reached #16 in 1958, he singlehandedly popularized the power chord; a staple of rock music that sustained the careers of everyone from the Kinks and The Who through Cream and heavy metal. Wray gets credit for the power chord's very invention; modern rock guitar would be inconceivable without it.This crucial contribution to rock's evolution is often overlooked; most analysis of rock's evolution draws a tidy line from blues to heavy metal. Wray wasn't a blues artist; he was firmly rock 'n' roll, in the traditional 1950's sense. However, the mutation of blues makes a stop at Wray before travelling across the ocean to the blues-influenced British Invasion guitarists. Pete Townshend credits Link Wray and "Rumble" with inspiring him to play guitar in the first place. Part Native American, the son of preachers in the Holiness Church, Fred Lincoln Wray Jr.'s career dates back to the very end of the pre-rock era, making his emergence roughly simultaneous with Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley, and Jerry Lee Lewis. His earliest recordings are from 1955, as a member of Lucky Wray and the Palomino Ranch Hands, who recorded a few sides for Starday records, located in Texas. Lucky Wray and the Palomino Ranch Hands were originally based in Wray's home state of North Carolina (Wray's birthyear has been reported as both 1929 and 1935 in the town of Dunn, NC; the former date is probably more accurate). The band was a hellbent country outfit, not unlike any number of rough pre-rockabilly outfits, and included his brother Vernon "Lucky" Wray on vocals, brother Doug Wray on drums, Shorty Horton on bass, and Link on guitar. With the help of some local songwriters they put together a solid set of hillbilly proto-rock which gained them enough local notice that by the end of 1955 they relocated to Washington DC; their first EP was released on the local Key label. Vern "Lucky" Wray got some recognition as a singer, and subsequently recorded some solo sides for Cameo records; undaunted, Link, Doug, and Shorty contined to rattle the walls with their unkempt hillbilly country, often working on instrumental tunes in the absence of Vern. Link had contracted tuberculosis in the Korean War which had cost him a lung; on his doctor's orders, he avoided singing much, despite an adequate voice, and instead focused on finding voice through his guitar playing. It was during 1956-1957, with Vern often unavailable for singing duties, that Link Wray's signature style of playing developed.In the nutshell, Link Wray's guitar style was deceptively simple, but unique in its day. Rather than strumming rhythm or playing a lead line on his '53 Gibson Les Paul, he favored a slow drag across the strings, run through a loud, distorted Premier amplifier, emphasizing each note in elementary chord progressions. This primal sound drove the kids crazy; Wray, sensing this, tried to get an even dirtier sound by punching holes in his amp, which distorted his chords even more. During this period of time, the band re-tooled their image considerably. Vern Wray, his solo career not developing, returned to the band as manager and producer, changing his name to Ray Vernon. The remaining trio renamed themselves in space age fashion Link Wray and the Ray-Men. The band, and Link in particular, began dressing like hoodlums, with black leather jackets, menacing shades, surly sneers, and plenty of hair grease. By 1957, they were playing record hops in the DC area in the company of local deejay Milt Grant, who eventually took over managerial duties from brother Vern.As legend has it, Wray's signature tune, "Rumble" was largely constructed on the spur of the moment, mid-set, when audience members requested he play a stroll. Having none prepared, he improvised, birthing the first classic power chord in rock history. The still-unnamed primitive and raw fuzz-toned tune was initially rejected for release by Archie Blayer, owner of Cadence records, but when his daughter went crazy for it, saying it reminded her of a rumble, it was given a shot and its title. It was promptly banned in a lot of radio markets, including New York City, on the grounds that it might spur violence. While this fear was dubious; as an instrumental it didn't condone anything, and any "rumble" vibes were wholly atmospheric rather than specific, it did label Link Wray and the Ray-Men as a juvenile delinquent band. This earned them street credibility and respect from jd's across the country; despite the bans, "Rumble" peaked at #16 on the national charts in 1958. It remains the song Wray is best remembered for."Rumble" put Wray on the map in a big way, and established him as a bigger threat than Elvis or Chuck Berry, who were innocent and good-timey in comparison. However, despite the single's success (it also charted in England), the Ray-Men quickly found themselves at odds with Cadence records. Cadence, home to the Everly Brothers, was concerned about the band's rough image, and wanted to clean them up and tone them down. They were dispatched to Nashville to record their follow-up with the Everly Brothers' production team. The Ray-Men would have nothing of it; having found their sound and their audience, the last thing they wanted was to become a safe, inoffensive pop band like the Everlys. They ditched Cadence in favor of the larger Epic records, who were willing to let them do their own thing. Wray replaced his Les Paul with a Danelectro Longhorn, known for having the longest neck of any regular production guitar; its fat pickups gave Wray's power chords an even dirtier, more metallic sound. The first single (and follow-up to "Rumble") was "Rawhide", a pumping, pounding, uptempo rocker, drenched in Wray's deliberate power chords. It peaked at #23 in late 1958, giving Wray and the Ray-Men their second top-40 of the year. Once again, their chief audience was the leather jacket juvenile delinquent crowd; once again, the band and label had to contend with scattered radio bans around the country.And once again, their label wanted to clean them up, remold Wray in an image not dissimilar to Duane Eddy, whose twanging guitar was a safer diversion popular with middle class white teenagers. What they ignored was that Wray's menace was his biggest draw; juvenile delinquents or not, the band's fans were a sizable lot, and the Ray-Men were assured of sales as long as they were left alone to do what they did best.Unable to duck out of their Epic contract as they had with Cadence, the band had to play ball. Epic put Wray in front of an orchestra, forcing him to record moldy, maudlin oldies like "Danny Boy" and "Claire De Lune" in 1960. Needless to say, the hoods who rumbled to his big hits had no use for "Danny Boy", and the sales dried up instantly. Epic soured on the whole project and cut them loose. Not wanting to go through it again, Link and Vern decided to set up their own label, Rumble Records, at the end of 1960. Rumble Records never really worked out; record distribution turned out to be a tougher job than the Wrays had expected. Nontheless, the Ray-Men recorded three seminal singles in entirely their own way for the label. Not only did each solidify Wray's reputation as a one of a kind guitarist, king of the big riff, they also demonstrated advanced studio trickery that wouldn't become commonplace until the mid 1960's. "Jack The Ripper" was recorded by placing Wray's amp at the bottom of a hotel staircase, giving it a full, organic echo; its insistent tempo evoked a car chase more than a rumble. It didn't sell in large numbers because of Rumble Records' distribution problems, but it did reach elements of its target audience, who welcomed Wray's return to what he did best. Swan records, based in Philadelphia, eventually picked up the song after it had gotten some airplay in 1961-1962, and released it themselves in 1963, when it received enough attention to peak at #63, not bad for a two-year-old re-release.Swan signed Link and Vern and finally granted them license to do what they wanted; as fears of a juvenile delinquent explosion subsided in the early 60's, and as Wray's reputation as a guitarist grew, Swan permitted them to experiment with styles and sounds on their own terms. The Wrays spent a decade experimenting with a three-track studio they built in a chicken coop on the family's farm, and for the first couple of years, Swan dutifully released the recordings they made. Many of these experiments were classic, others were turkeys, but all of them displayed a willful disregard for any current trends of the day; all were created with the Wrays following their muses. As musicians, Wray and his brothers continued to improve, playing countless sets at dives and gin mills; their output for Swan was prolific, and recorded under a variety of names, including the Moon Men and The Spiders. Swan president Bernie Binnick often gave the impression of not quite understanding Wray's appeal, but affably let him go on, figuring that interfering with his odd experiments would not necessarily result in more sales.However, as the 60's wore on, the sales were no longer there. In 1965, Wray briefly stopped releasing records, although he continued to experiment in his chicken coop. His contract with Swan expired, and the late 60's saw Wray labelless and toiling in relative obscurity. It seemed for a while that Wray was finished; the 50's long gone, popular music tastes had turned to heavier rock, progressive rock, heavy metal, psychedelic rock. However, in 1971 Wray made an unexpected return to record making, with an album for Polydor entitled simply Link Wray. Recorded mostly on his chicken coop 3-track the album saw Wray abandoning his trademark instrumentals for an album of roots rock featuring his own one-lunged vocals. The results are mixed, but ultimately winning; the album comes across as rootsy as The Band, but Wray's vocals and guitar style give the album a strange, tough, steely, punky appeal; it almost recalls the crackpot music of Hasil Adkins, but in a heavier, less rockabilly vein, more disciplined vein. The album peaked at a modest #186, Wray's only charting album of his career, but it was enough to return him to cult artist status, where he has remained ever since. He returned to the road shortly after, backing rockabilly Robert Gordon (later of Tuff Darts) alongside drummer Anton Fig, and then returned to solo work, bringing Fig with him. His late 70's records are uneven affairs (although he did chart once more with "Red Hot", which reached #83 in 1977), but as a live performer Wray continued to smoke, playing the honky tonks with a mean intensity that took the "Rumble" sound and grew it up, taking his guitar from the realm of teen hoodlums and making it into rugged and rough get-ready-to-brawl barroom music. He never really slowed down again until he was in his 70's, and even still, at 76, he is capable of igniting fire. Wray lives in semi-retirement in Denmark, his wife's birthplace, but still trucks out his old guitar on occasion, displaying a power and finesse few players a third of his age can muster. He may well be better appreciated in Europe than he is in America; for many European rock fans, Link Wray represents America, and all the menace and leer rock 'n' roll once stood for. However, he is an American national treasure; if the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame was really about rock 'n' roll, they'd induct him right now, while he's still alive to accept the honor. Because without him, there might've been no Pete Townshend. Or Kinks, or Yardbirds, or Led Zeppelin.Weekly Artist Overview usually appears Monday night/Tuesday AM (but is being affected by 'summer hours') Be sure to visit Freeway JamImage Shack hosts my images.

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Weekly Artist Overview: Buffalo Springfield

uao — Tue, 9 Aug 2005 23:31:09 EDT

Buffalo Springfield is on the short list of bands that had great influence on rock's evolution despite a brief tenure together. Buffalo Springfield's repertoire of folk-rock, country-rock, and psychedelic hard rock were all state of the art in their day; their classic songs remain in frequent rotation on classic rock stations. Perhaps even more important than their music is the assemblage of talent within the band. Retrospectively, Buffalo Springfield was the launching pad for A-listers who went on to even greater heights afterwards. Birthing the subsequent solo careers of Neil Young, Stephen Stills, Richie Furay (Poco), and Jim Messina (Poco, Loggins and Messina), Buffalo Springfield's legacy continued robustly through the 70's and 80's and still can be felt now. California rock owes a lot to these guys; only the Byrds rivaled them in Los Angeles in the 1960's.The band's formation has been legend so long it's hard to verify how true it is, but as the story goes, it was a standard Los Angeles rush hour traffic jam on Sunset Boulevard that was the catalyst for their meeting. In April 1966, Stephen Stills and Richie Furay were driving together on Sunset when stop-and-go traffic randomly deposited them in back of an old 1953 Pontiac hearse bearing Canadian license plates. Stills recognized the hearse as belonging to Canadian Neil Young, whom he had met variously around town earlier. With Young was bass player Bruce Palmer. Young and Palmer had spent the better part of the past month on a cross country joyride in search of a musical career that had so far eluded them; both were preparing to leave L.A. for destinations unknown. This incident lad to the formation of Buffalo Springfield; within the two cars was the nucleus of a great band: Neil Young on vocals/guitar, Stephen Stills on vocals/guitar, Richie Furay on vocals/guitar, and Bruce Palmer on bass. The drumkit went to Dewey Martin, who briefly drummed for The Dillards, a top-notch progressive bluegrass outfit. Young had been born in Toronto in 1945; his father was a sports journalist. His parents divorced while he was a child, and he and his mother re-located to Winnipeg where he began playing guitar in high school bands. His early garage band was called The Esquires; he also made the folkie circuit where he initially met both Stills and Joni Mitchell. Returning to Toronto, he played a solo acoustic folk set and gained local notice. His first recordings were as a member of The Mynah Birds, which also included fellow Canadian Bruce Palmer and American Rick James (of "Superfreak" fame). The Mynah Birds were Toronto-based and recorded an album's worth of material for Motown records, which has never been released. This would have been Motown's very first attempt to crack the rock market, and the project apparently was received with little enthusiasm. The band met an unexpected end in March 1966 when James was hauled off for being AWOL from the U.S. Navy; the band had been unaware of his military status. While it may not have seemed so at the time, this misfortune had a silver lining, as Young and Palmer were released from their Motown contract, which permitted them to join Buffalo Springfield. Their month-long jaunt from Toronto in Young's hearse landed them on Sunset on that fateful day. Stills was born in 1945 in Dallas, TX. Stills developed an interest in music early, and had his first professional gig at the age of 15. He eventually dropped out of college and headed for New York City's fertile folk-rock scene, where he met Richie Furay from Ohio while playing in Greenwich Village in 1964. Catching their act was local impresario Ed E. Miller who put them in a group together with members of the Bay Singers. This new ensemble evolved into The Au Go-Go Singers after becoming house band for legendary Cafe Au Go-Go, later home to The Blues Project. The Au Go-Go singers released an album on Roulette, They Call Us Au Go-Go Singers, in 1964; it went nowhere. The pair bailed in 1965, and headed for Los Angeles. In early 1966 Stills auditioned for a role on the TV series The Monkees; the role went to Michael Nesmith instead. In April 1966, following the meeting with Young and Palmer, the four formed the Herd, later renamed Buffalo Springfield. Dewey Martin was added the same week; by week's end they had their first professional gig as a five-piece, opening for no less than the Byrds, at the Troubadour Club on Sunset Strip. The band performed only originals, save for a version of "In The Midnight Hour" which featured Martin on vocals.That all five members were experienced musicians became apparent right from the start; Buffalo Springfield never really went through an awkward developmental phase like most bands; they were ready to record within weeks of their professional debut. Sonny and Cher's management team signed them, and got them a deal with Atco Records. Atco released their debut album, Buffalo Springfield in late 1966 (a re-issue that replaced "Baby Don't Scold Me" with "For What It's Worth" came out in 1967). The band was allegedly displeased with the record, which they felt failed to capture the energy of their live shows, but that caveat aside, it is a remarkably mature debut; the band sounds older than its tender years, and most of the cuts on the album sounded like instant classics. Another souce of displeasure may have been Neil Young himself, whose voice was deemed too "weird" by record honchoes; three of his songs were given to Furay to sing, leaving Young with only two lead vocals on the record. As a result, Stills dominates the record to a degree; his "For What It's Worth", is a folk rock classic that carried a message that bordered on paranoia and radical lot-casting. His "Sit Down I Think I Love You" is a good British-style psychedelic pop tune featuring his fluid lead guitar plus fuzz guitar from Young. His "Everybody's Wrong" is a Byrds-like psychedelic hard rocker. "Burned" is the first Neil Young classic in his storied career; Furay does Young's "Nowadays Clancy Can't Even Sing" right, his gentle "Flying On The Ground Is Wrong" hints at country even as it stays within the basic parameters of British Invasion style pop. The single, "For What It's Worth" hit nationally, peaking at #7. Buffalo Springfield, while a big seller in California, fared less well nationally, reaching #80, a repectable showing for a band that hadn't yet had much national exposure. The band's dissatisfaction with how their album and career was being handled, however, led to their sacking the management team and attempting to handle management duties themselves. Work commenced on a follow up album, and problems almost immediately beset the band. Young suffered several epileptic seizures; nontheless he began to assert himself in the band, fashioning himself as its leader, which led to inevitable conflict with Stills. Their ensuing clashes resulted in Young threatening to walk on a number of occasions; on a number of occasions, he did. Another serious blow came during the sessions when Bruce Palmer was busted for marijuana possession and was deported to Canada. Palmer would eventually sneak back across the border in disguise in order to complete the sessions. The band made an interesting appearence at The Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. Playing a blistering set that included songs from their upcoming album, their set was noteworty for the presence of David Crosby of the Byrds playing in place of Neil Young, who had finally quit the band the previous month. Crosby's appearance with Buffalo Springfield was in defiance of Byrds leader Roger McGuinn's veto; The Byrds played a surly set of an almost punk intensity; the sound of a band breaking up. Crosby may have helped two bands break up that day, as his presence also left open the door for more collaboration with Stills, which would culminate in the formation of Crosby, Stills, and Nash. Palmer and Furay were allegedly unhappy with Crosby's guitar playing during the set. In October 1967 the band appeared playing in a bar on an episode of the TV police drama Mannix; Stills is visible in hippie clothing as the band performs "For What It's Worth" and "Bluebird". The band's second album, originally to be called Stampede, was Buffalo Springfield Again, released at the end of 1967. The album bears the scars of the drama that took place during the recording; only five tracks feature the full 5-man lineup, and sessionmen appear to fill holes left by Palmer and Young's missed sessions. Despite this, the album is an excellent one, ambitious and fully realized, if not quite indicative of the band's then-current circumstances. The 10 tracks are fairly equally divided between Young, Stills, and Furay; both Young and Stills have upped the ante considerably from the debut. The opener is the Young classic "Mr. Soul" a chiming and fuzzy psychedelic hard rocker with Young's "weird" voice front and center. "Expecting To Fly" is one of Young's most touching and sensitive early songs, given a full orchestral treatment that never seems maudlin; pedal steel treatment keeps things organic. Stills comes up with a pair of the best songs of his career, the hard rocking "Rock 'n' Roll Woman", which also features great group harmonies, and some of Still's often under-appreciated guitar work. "Bluebird" is a two-part suite; part psychedelic rocker, part country tune featuring banjo. Furay (whose songs weren't used on the debut) gets three here; his best is "A Child's Claim To Fame" featuring James Burton's dobro. The album's closer is Young's grandiose "Broken Arrow" which reprises "Mr. Soul" and gets progressive by adding a clarinet lead, sound effects, and repeated changes in tempo, key, and melody. It is among the best albums of the late 1960's, although at the time it was only lukewarmly received; it peaked at #44, an improvement over the debut, but the single, "Bluebird" disappointed, with a peak of #58. From this point forward, the band simply disintigrated. Buffalo Springfield's live shows in 1968 were usually notable for who was missing on a given night. Bruce Palmer was busted for possession again, and deported again, necessitating a full-time replacement; Jim Messina was brought in to take his place. In April 1968, most of the band was busted with Eric Clapton for marijuana possession; this proved the last straw, and the band broke up once and for all. Furay and Messina set about compiling an album from leftover material recorded between mid-1967 and early 1968; the resulting album, Last Time Around is a true hodgepodge in every sense of the word. Last Time Around's twelve songs aren't bad, and some of them are excellent, but in nearly every case, the band is not entirely present. Young is marginalized with 2 1/2 credits, although one is his lovely country/folk tune, "I Am A Child". His collaboration with Furay, "It's So hard To Wait" is another excellent track. Stills gets five songs, although none rank with his best with Buffalo Springfield or CSN; still "Pretty Girl Why" is a nice latin-flavored number, and "Questions" is a good guitar showcase that foreshadows his work with Crosby Stills and Nash. Furay's "Kind Woman", which features only Furay and Messina from the band, is a gorgeous piece of country-rock that foreshadows their next band, Poco. Seldom do odds and sods albums cohere as well as this one did; it rounds out Buffalo Springfield's trio of albums nicely and remains essential in its own way, as the first two do. The album reached #42, the band's best showing on the charts ever. From this point forward, the band members went their separate ways. Stills' first project was to record the album Super Session with Al Kooper (ex-Blues Project, future Blood Sweat and Tears) and Mike Bloomfield (ex-Butterfield Blues Band, Electric Flag). One side of the album featured Kooper/Stills jams, the other was Kooper/Bloomfield. Crosby, Stills, and Nash, featuring Graham Nash of the Hollies, formed in 1969 and released their debut the same year; their gig at Woodstock was famously their second show together. Neil Young signed with Reprise in early 1969 and released his acclaimed debut, Neil Young, the same year to modest sales. Despite his fights with Stills, he joined Crosby, Stills, and Nash onstage at Woodstock and was credited as a full member on their next two albums, Deja Vu and 4-Way Street. He has gone on to one of the most vital careers in rock history as a top solo act in the 1970's (including an album/tour as a duo with Stills in 1975), an erratic eccentric in the 1980's, and a hard rock elder statesman in the 90's and 00's. He remains arguably the most "relevant" of remaining 1960's artists. Furay and Messina, who worked with steel guitarist Rusty Young on "Kind Woman" formed Poco with him, George Grantham on drums, and bassist/singer Randy Meisner (who would soon depart and later become a founding member of the Eagles). Poco released a landmark country-rock debut album Pickin' Up The Pieces in 1969, and enjoyed a long, successful run, although both Messina and Furay would depart fairly early on, Messina in 1970 to form a duo with singer/songwriter Kenny Loggins, with whom he'd release nine albums. Furay left in 1973 to join the short-lived supergroup The Furay Hillman Souther Band, which included ex-Byrds and Flying Burrito Brothers guitarist/singer/songwriter Chris Hillman. Palmer, deported twice during his tenure with the band, was considered as permanent bassist for Crosby Stills and Nash, but Crosby and Nash apparently vetoed the idea. He does play bass on a version of their classic "Helplessly Hoping", which appears on the Crosby, Stills, & Nash box set. He released a solo album in 1971 (featuring old bandmate Rick James), but failed to get a career started and eventually vanished from the music scene entirely. He briefly resurfaced in Neil Young's band in the 1980's, playing bass on Young's Trans in 1982. He later had a Buffalo Springfield tribute band called Buffalo Springfield Revisited which also featured Dewey Martin. He died in 2004 from a heart attack. Martin attempted to launch a band called New Buffalo Springfield in 1969, but failed to get it off the ground. He managed a solo album, Dewey Martin & Medicine Ball in 1970, and spent some time in bands Pink Slip and Roberts-Meisner Band in the 80's before joining Bruce Palmer's tribute band. He also appeared as a bachelor on The Dating Game in 1977.Any of Buffalo Springfield's albums are pretty essential listening, particularly the first two. A good overview, Retrospective: The Best of Buffalo Springfield appeared in 1969 and remains an excellent overview; for those wishing to dig deeply into the band's history, Rhino's incredible 88-cut Box Set, released in 2001, contains 36 unreleased cuts, including major moments like Young's magnificent "Down To The Wire" (also found on his Decade compilation in a different version); much of the unreleased material is of an unusually good quality.Weekly Artist Overview usually appears on Tuesdays (subject to summer hours).Buffalo Springfield Official Website Be sure to visit Freeway Jam.Image Shack hosts my images.

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Weekly Artist Overview: R.E.M.

uao — Tue, 19 Jul 2005 07:23:04 EDT

It's easy to underestimate the impact R.E.M. ultimately has had on the evolution of rock music. Originally an underground cult band, little known beyond college radio, they built their audience the old fashioned way; a little at a time, album by album. By the end of the 1980's they were experiencing their first taste of mainstream success; by the early 1990's they had become the biggest rock group on the planet. Their star has receded since their halcyon years, but they remain respected elder statesmen; still active 25 years after their initial formation, they are also one of the longest-lived bands of the post-punk era.Beyond their hard-won chart successes they also deserve recognition for their music itself. A mixture of roots rock, Byrds-derived psychedelia, a little Velvet Underground, murky country/folk, garage rock, and Americana, they became staples of college rock during the 1980's college rock heyday, get credit for being the flagship jangle pop band (a title that diminishes them, actually), were among the first bands to be dubbed "alternative rock" at the turn of the 90's, and ultimately one of the most successful adult alternative pop/rock bands. For those fans who discovered the group at the beginning, via the Chronic Town EP or Murmer album, R.E.M. has always remained a particularly special band; their underground appeal in the 1980's gave them the patina of unsung heroes, which made being among their limited fans something special. Their eventual commercial success was validation of these fans' belief that they were onto something very special.Their career can be divided into roughly three stages; their 1981-1988 indie period, spent primarily with I.R.S. records, their 1989-1996 hitmaking years for Warner Brothers, and their erratic, experimental august years as a trio, following drummer Bill Berry's departure in 1997. While the core elements have always remained the same, Michael Stipe's often unintelligible singing, Peter Buck's ornate guitar textures, and Mike Mills' melodic basslines, each era represents a different sound and approach by the band, making their overall body of work a particularly interesting one. R.E.M. was formed in the college town of Athens, GA in 1980, a fertile breeding ground for bands; one of the most famous Athens bands at that time was the B-52's. R.E.M. has often been called a "Southern" band, although only bassist Mike Mills and drummer Bill Berry were actually from the South. Both were born in 1958 and attended high school together in Macon, GA; they were members of a variety of informal bands in their teens. Michael Stipe, two years their junior, had lived around the country as the child of military parents before majoring in art at the University of Georgia in Athens. Peter Buck, born in California in 1956, worked as a record store clerk in the area; it was via the record shop he encountered Stipe. Stipe had been into the punk music of the day, particularly Patti Smith, Television, and Wire; Buck was a fanatical record collector, specializing in 60's rock but also a fan of punk and free jazz. When he and Stipe met, he was still just learning guitar. The two discovered an overlap in their musical tastes and became friends; a mutual friend introduced them to Mills and Berry. The four decided to form a band, originally called Twisted Kites, and played their first gig, at a friend's party on April 19, 1980. Their setlist relied heavily on garage band and punk covers; often including obscurites only a vinyl junkie like Buck would be likely to recognize.The band eventually settled on the name R.E.M. by mid-1980, apparantly choosing the name at random after flipping through a dictionary. They also found a manager around this time, Jefferson Holt, who had caught one of their first out-of-state gigs in neighboring North Carolina. Suitably represented, the band began getting gigs in widespread locations throughout the South; most of 1980-1981 was spent playing hundreds of small-venue gigs, often for sparse crowds. It was during this period of intense touring that the band's initial sound began to gel. Peter Buck's guitar developed a uniquely recognizable jangle, which bore rich psychedelic textures that recalled the Byrds among other influences; he also learned an angular and propulsive style of riffing. Stipe, the art major, began writing lyrics that were fragmented and impressionistic; these he'd sing in a low mumble, sometimes almost inaudible next to the instrumentation. In between his turns at the mike, he'd leap about the stage eccentrically; lending a focal point beyond the still-formative music. Mills breathed new life into the bass; his basslines became richly melodic, sometimes his bass served as lead instrument. Berry also had a distinctive style at the drum kit; he made great use of cymbals and other percussion, which together with the others could combine into a fairly complex wall-of-sound despite there only being three musicians playing at a given time. A sympathetic and enthusiastic producer was found in Mitch Easter, who led his own early jangle-pop band, Let's Active. A debut single, "Radio Free Europe" was recorded at his tiny Drive-In studios in Winston-Salem, NC in 1981. Released on Hibtone Records, only 1,000 copies were pressed; still, word of mouth spread quickly. The song was a rough gem; punchy and punky, with a bass driven tempo and crunchy guitar, plus a completely impossible-to-discern lyric from Stipe, it was a stand-out; both punky and retro simultaneously, it blazed a trail that few knew existed at the time. Largely on the strength of this rare single and the band's relentless touring, R.E.M. had some influential champions around the country by the end of the year, the Village Voice being one of the very first; the band topped a poll of best independant singles of 1981. This led to considerable interest in the band, and in Spring 1982, the band was signed to I.R.S. records, one of the most prominent indie labels of the day. Their first release was a 5-song EP, Chronic Town, in spring 1982. The EP shows the band in a still very formative stage; while their sound is already distinct, the execution is still green. Nontheless, it was a stunner when it appeared. Leading off with the jaunty "1,000,000", an angular rocker that displayed Buck's first two styles, propulsion and jangle, and Stipe's yowling vocals it is arresting from the first song to the last. "Wolves, Lower" has some of Stipe's most audible early lyrics, and the snatches that catch the ear are unsettlingly paranoid; the song itself is built around a rich harmonic hook. "Gardening At Night" is a big folk ballad with lovely harmonies and rich work from Buck and Mills. "Carnival of Sorts (Boxcars)" is perhaps the key track on the disc, pointing to the textures the band would take on their first album. The lyrics aren't so much inaudible as unbelievable; colorful impressionistic phrases that taken alone mean nothing, but as parts of a whole paint a somewhat claustrophobic picture. Here, the band resembles the New York school of intellectual punk more than the Byrds; the combination of these influences would be made more explicit on their next release. Murmer, the band's 1983 album debut, was a miracle for those who were lucky enough to know about it at the time. In an era when crass synth-pop dominated the airwaves and MTV had rendered all non-photogenic bands obsolete, here was an album of unfashionable guitar-based folk-rock, with a punk aesthetic yet a respect for tradition. Even Rolling Stone, truly out of it at the time, recognized the album as best of 1983. Murmur is a classic example of a band gaining confidence in themselves and their sound, and restlessly pushing the envelope in many new directions. Nearly every cut has something to recommend it; "Radio Free Europe" reappears in a cleaner, fuller version. "Pilgrimage", which aptly demonstrates Mills' growing role as backing vocalist, is based around an odd time signature and piano/bass riff. "Talk About The Passion" is lush and pretty; Buck's guitar erupting in rainfalls of psychedelic pearls while Stipe waxes elegiac. "Perfect Circle" shows the band experimenting in the studio, combining a grand piano with a deliberately out-of-tune upright, giving the song a stange otherworldliness, while Stipe contributes one of his loveliest wistful vocals. Mitch Easter's production is dead on; clean enough to bring out the textures in the music, but keeping Stipe back in the mix, relegating his voice to fourth instrument status; this kept his odd lyrical concerns cryptic while emphasizing the texture of his voice. "Shaking Through" is a more uptempo rocker with excellent harmonies. There aren't enough superlatives to describe this album; the songs bear a timeless quality reminiscent of the Band's early work. They sound older than they really are, yet they escape any hint of retro or nostalgia. The record ultimately peaked at #36 on the charts. Murmer's effect on indie rock was profound, influencing a myriad of bands. However, R.E.M.'s next effort, Reckoning, surpassed it in both ambition and execution. Among original fans, Reckoning is usually considered the band's best album (later fans generally prefer Automatic For The People). Reckoning reveals fewer punk moves and more in a garage-rock vein, perhaps due to the extensive touring the band did throughout the year. Once again produced by Mitch Easter, Reckoning stands as the band's lone jangle-pop album, opening with the guitar textures of "Harborcoat" and working its way through 10 flawless songs. "7 Chinese Brothers" is full of guitar chime, as its lyric is adopted from a children's fable. "Time After Time (Annelise)" is a stately piece of updated raga-rock, built upon an Eastern motive that builds into a towering guitar crescendo. "Letter Never Sent" is enigmatic garage rock with punch. "Camera" is one of the band's best early moments, a slow rumination given a clock-like cross-stick snare beat by Berry whil Buck works in minor-key arpeggios and Stipe delivers a solemn, lonely, almost obsessive lyric of world-weary sadness. "(Don't Go Back To) Rockville" is classic country-rock with unusually clear and direct lyrics and a giant hook for a chorus. The single, "So. Central Rain (I'm Sorry)" is one of their most intensely emotional numbers; also in a country vein, but culminating in a firey close. For those who missed Murmer, this album was another good jumping-on point; no R.E.M. album coheres as well as this one. The album peaked at #27, a step in their long march to the top. It was about this point where the word "phenomenon" came to be tossed about in reference to the band. Their body of work up to this point was extremely original; nobody was quite working the same side of the street. Their instrumental approach was unique; Stipe's idea of a frontman as a guy who lurks back near the drumkit was revelatory, the band's cryptic album art and even more cryptic videos, which resembled film student art movies, lent them an aura of mystery, and their bona-fide indie roots gave them credibility. Many bands began to follow their lead, sonically and imagewise; both the jangle pop and roots rock arenas were forever changed by their appearance. R.E.M. took this responsibility seriously, and went out of their way to champion other bands in interviews and at concerts, as well as getting many of their favorites to open for them. In this sense, the band's influence extended beyond their records; 1985 was a year full of similar sounding bands, many of which had gotten a boost from R.E.M. Interestingly, the band abruptly changed directions with their next album (which, depending on how you held the jacket, was either called Fables of the Reconstruction or Reconstruction of the Fables). Mitch Easter didn't produce (apparently by friendly agreement), and Joe Boyd was enlisted. Producer of 60's folk-rockers Fairport Convention and Nick Drake, he seemed a natural fit for the band, and his influence is felt troughout the album. Fables of the Reconstruction is a strange record; it is the most steeped in Americana tradition of all their releases, it is also the darkest and most sinister album they ever released. The band was growing tired of their neverending touring, and the tensions are felt in the taut textures on the album. The band's southern obsessions became deeper, more gothic, with dark, frightening imagry hiding beneath the angular surface. Stipe's eccentric behavior was particularly strange at the time, as he shaved his head bald, began wearing multiple layers of clothing, and made odd, cryptic pronouncements at shows. The album is the most overtly psychedelic of the band's career, and it's a tense, edgy psychedelia made manifest in the very first song, "Feeling Gravity's Pull" which builds on wildly discordant guitar noises, breaking only for the buzzed lull of the bridges. "Driver 8" is another country-rock garage band song, a singalong train song on the surface, but as the lyrics reveal themselves the song becomes ominous and foreboding. "Auctioneer (Another Engine)" is a psychedelic nightmare that almost strays into Pere Ubu territory. "Good Advices", a song about travel, is subverted by its own sadness. "Life and How To Live It" is an energetic rabble rouser with some of Stipe's sharpest lyrics, "Green Grow The Rushes" is the token Byrds nod, "Can't Get There From Here" is a ridiculous slab of blue-eyed soul. In total, Fables of the Reconstruction doesn't quite have the consistency of Reckoning. However, it is nearly as good, albeit in a more claustrophobic way. It represented a real change in sound and direction right when people were wondering if they were destined to repeat Reckoning until the break-up. While not quite as successful as its predecessor, reaching an almost-identical #28 on the charts, it earned them critical respect for the chances it took. In retrospect, it also closed out their initial run of flawless releases; diehard early fans often point to the next release as a disappointment. Life's Rich Pageant, from 1986, saw more changes. Perhaps taking the "roots rock" tag to heart, Don Gehman was enlisted to produce, having worked with mainstream roots rocker John Mellencamp. Gehman's biggest thumbprint was in a general cleaning up of the band's sound; where Stipe had always been buried in the mix, he was now moved out front and center. Buck's guitar was highlighted for its riffs more than its texture; Mills got to sing lead on an obscure garage band cover, "Superman". These changes, coupled with a somewhat weaker-than-usual collection of material was a come-down for many, who were looking for more exploration like Fables, or more jangle like Reckoning. Instead, the band plays a harder rock than they had to date, with "Begin The Begin" and "These Days" relying on guitar crunch, with Stipe literally wailing the lyrics. "Hyena" was a good jangle pop tune, but it was a leftover from the Reckoning days, having been part of their setlist for years. The Southern myths explored on Fables appear on the unspectacular "Swan Song H" while "Flowers of Guatemala" and "Cuyahoga" represented a growing latent politicism in Stipe. It's a patchy record; nothing is really bad on it, but the only real standouts are the anthemic "Fall On Me" and the "Superman" closer. The album's biggest failure is Gehman's stripping away of the band's enigmatic tendencies. "Fall On Me" gained considerable airplay, their most so far, and the album made it as far as #21, their best showing to date. A spotty collection of B-sides and rarities followed, entitled Dead Letter Office. Their next album, and final for I.R.S., was Document, released in 1987. By this point, R.E.M.'s audience had reached critical mass; while the band made no overt commercial moves on Document, it finally represented their big mainstream breakthrough. In fact, Document was something of a retreat from the bold mainstream approach of Life's Rich Pageant; Scott Litt became the band's new producer, a chair he'd occupy for a long time. While keeping the sound clear, he recognized the importance texture had in the band's approach. Thus, much of the band's mystery was restored, without sacrificing sound quality. The songs themselves are a vast improvement over the previous album. It opens with "Finest Worksong" which immediately returns R.E.M. to the enigma of Reckoning while providing a muscular noise-pop arrangement that resembles Fables. "Exhuming McCarthy" is the band's most explicitly political song to date, yet it also remains vague enough to avoid didacticism. "It's The End Of The World As I Know It" was a big radio hit, a joyous garage rocker with nonsense lyrics and big chorus, "King Of Birds" is quite possibly their greatest psychedelic art-rock songs of the 1980's, with Berry's martial drumming, Buck's grand arpeggios, and Stipe's poetic lyrics. The tortured "The One I Love" became the band's very first hit single, peaking at #9 and propelling the album to #10, finally gaining them recognition in the U.K. as well.Times could not have been better for their I.R.S. contract to run out. After landing at the top without compromising their still decidely non-commercial vision, they were the subjects of a bidding war. Warner Brothers landed them for a substantial sum, closing out their indie era and making them the greatest indie success story until Nirvana hit. Green, from 1988, was their first Warners release. It also represents a crossroads for the band. While they remain true to their roots, and true to their idiosyncratic sound and experimentation, they also suffered what might be considered their first dose of overexposure; some of the longer term fans began to bail here, just as brand new fans clamored aboard. The album itself is strangely schizophrenic. The first side runs a gamut of moods, from the tuneful "Pop Song 89" to the wistful and romantic "You Are The Everything", to the elegant piano-based "World Leader Pretend". Buck's dabbling in mandolin makes its first big impressions on this album, particularly on the bizarrely touching "The Wrong Child". Side two begins with a slice of quasi-art-pop "Orange Crush" before descending into a series of murky hard rock tunes. "Stand" was the album's big hit, peaking at #6, "Orange Crush" was a #1 radio hit. "Stand" was controversial; a pop-rocker built on elementary chords, with a lyric like a children's rhyme, it seemed silly for those who took the band's earlier, darker obsessions seriously. However, it is certainly a catchy piece of ear candy, a born radio hit, and Green, while uneven and at times dull, stands as a pretty good transitional effort.Now headliners, the band began playing stadiums in America, and spent most of 1988 on the road; 1989 was the first year since the band was formed that saw no new product released. The tour left the band exhausted, and they took most of 1989 off; working on a variety of side projects. They didn't begin recording again until 1990, when work commenced on Out Of Time. Out Of Time, released 1991, was a long-anticipated release, after the nearly 3-year haitus, and it entered the charts at #1. As most of their previous albums had been recorded between tours, they all generally boasted a spare sound, relying on standard instruments, easily replicable live. Much care went into Out Of Time's production, with overdubs and lush production, with french horns, strings, and mandolins, and careful detail to the mixing. The album received generally good notice, and their fanbase continued to grow, but once again, older fans saw the album as something of a disappointment. The songwriting remains uneven; there are moments of grandeur, and moments of lightweight sillyness. Singled out for attack by many long-time fans was "Shiny Happy People", a shiny happy pop tune featuring Kate Pierson of the B-52's. The song is in a similar vein to "Stand", catchy and tuneful, but ultimately meaningless. Elsewhere, "Losing My Religion" has been called both a masterpiece and an embarrassment; it all depends on how you approach the music. Out Of Time, in reality, is yet another transitional album; now able to use state of the art expensive production techniques, the band's songs seem tentative and unfinished. One of the best moments, "Endgame" consists of Stipe humming over a lush strings-and-french horn backing. In retrospect, despite the care that went into it, Out Of Time remains one of the band's lesser efforts. The album was their biggest seller ever, however, selling 4 million copies. Automatic For The People came out in 1992, and it is a return to form, their most accomplished album of the 1990's and a real progression for the band, one that succeeds on all fronts. The band sounds as though it had been doing a lot of reflecting, not just on music, but on life, aging, and death. "Man On The Moon", a tribute to prankster comedian Andy Kaufman, is one of their sweetest, most elegiac, and lyrically poignant songs ever; Mills' backing vocals and bassline are classic. "Star Me Kitten" is a strange throwback to the early 60's, with a ghostly wall-of-sound production built upon sustained backing vocals; Stipe lends it his most tender and romantic vocal. "Everybody Hurts" is plaintive and raw, "Nightswimming" is melancholic, "Find The River" borders on the spiritual. The album itself, like Fables of the Reconstruction, is greater than the sum of its parts, conveying an epic quality. Strings (arranged by John Paul Jones of Led Zeppelin), keyboards, and overdubs are integrated into the band's sound better than on previous efforts, keeping the entire package sounding organic and authentic. Even the hard-to-please oldtimers generally liked it. A #2 album on the charts, it also sold about 4 million copies. The band's next release was Monster, in 1994. It is here that things began going seriously wrong for the band. Monster was a long-promised hard rock album from the band; it was to feature guitar driven rock with a minimum of overdubs. On paper, it looked like a good idea; as old fans of Television and Patti Smith, surely the biggest post-punk band of them all could deliver on the promise. The very first chords of "What's The Frequency Kenneth?" seemed to confirm this; an uncompromising hard rocker, with phase shifted and backwards guitars, it had an appealing psychedelic propulsion to it, a great harmonic chorus, and a lyric and overall sound that was still distinctly R.E.M. Unfortunately, the album hits the dirt after that; while the songs do rock hard, and Buck's guitar is the star of the show, the songs themselves are murky, forgettable, and weird in an unappealing way. "Crush With Eyeliner" is the key track; a bizarre gender-bending glam rock number it points to the other songs' odd fixations and fetishes. On tour, the band glammed it up onstage, dressing like rock stars, while failing to convey the visual impact such music demanded. The album hit #1 on sheer momentum, but displayed somewhat less staying power than previous releases. The supporting tour, in 1995, was the band's first since Green, and it was star-crossed from the beginning. Bill Berry suffered a brain aneurism two months in; he recovered after surgery, and the tour resumed. Mills suffered an intestinal tumor that had to be surgically removed. Stipe suffered a hernia. The tour was completed, and was a financial success, but it had long-lasting effects on the band members. In 1996, just prior to their new album release, the band fired long-time manager Jefferson Holt following a sexual harassment charge leveled against him; Bertis Downs, who had served as the band's lawyer took his place. New Adventures in Hi-Fi appeared in 1996, just as the band signed a new contract with Warner Brothers for a staggering $80 million. It also marks the beginning of a decline in the band's fortunes; it would appear that in this case Warners bought high and will be forced to sell low. The album itself is fairly good; the last solid offerening from the band to date. As the title suggests, it is an album of experimentation. Leaving behind Monster for the one-shot it was always supposed to be, the band immersed itself in studio trickery; overdubs are everywhere, as are a melange of studio and live tapes, tape manipulation, odd instrumentation, and the like. Not everything works; "How the West Was Won and Where It Got Us" gets too tricky for its own good, with its dissonant piano and hip-hop beat. But much of the good stuff recalls Automatic For The People, and some even sound like the I.R.S. years, in spirit, if not quite sound. "Electrolite" is an example of the former, "Bittersweet Me" an example of the latter. However, at 62 minutes, the band's material wears thin; the album would have benefited from more ruthless editing. It peaked at #2, but yielded no hit singles, and drifted off the chart fairly quickly.Bill Berry's health had remained a concern since the 1995 tour, and in October 1997 the band announced that he was retiring, on friendly terms, to spend time on his farm. This instantly created break-up rumors, but the band promptly entered the studio as a three-piece, a drum machine filling in for Berry. Faced with Berry's loss, the band had two choices; they could hire a drummer and go on as they had, or they could use his departure as an opportunity to explore a new sound altogether. Up, released in 1998, show R.E.M. choosing the latter course. The drum machine meant that electronic textures were the obvious avenue to follow, and R.E.M. did, with mixed results. Gone entirely is the jangle-pop of their I.R.S. days, gone also are the rich guitar textures of their early Warners albums. Instead, keyboards dominate a lot of the music, while the guitars are buried; it is R.E.M.'s electronic album. "Airportman" is a spooky leadoff, and "Suspicion" a pretty good paranoid piece. Stipe and Mills still sound like themselves, so despite the alien soundscape, it still sounds like R.E.M. However, too many of the songs are moody, down-tempo dirges; there's not enough excitement to bring the new textures into relief, and the album is weighted down by its own gloominess. Peaking at #3, it had an even shorter shelf-life than its predecessor. There was a long wait for the next one, Reveal, released in 2001. Reveal is a logical record; realizing the pseudo-electronica of Up wasn't leading anywhere, they go back to the melodic basics of Automatic For The People, adding the lushness of Out Of Time, while retaining some of the outer limits experimentation of Up. While this reslted in an improvement of product, it also highlighted the fact that the band was no longer a trendsetter; like many long-lived bands it had retreated into recontextualizing sounds it had explored before. Consequently, Reveal is an album liked by latter-day fans, largely dismissed by old ones, and is hit-or-miss with its songs. "Imitation Of Life" and "All the Way to Reno (You're Gonna Be a Star)" are epic pop tunes; "Beachball" is a successful Beach Boys tribute. The band deserves props for continuing to try new effects, "Summer Turns to High" sounds credibly experimental. Where the mechanical beats were integral to Up, here, they're buried, bringing back the band's organic sound without going completely retro. At this point, those who have stuck with the band all along have got to be rooting for them, and Reveal is worth it in the end. But it is a mediocre album from a great group. Around The Sun came out after another significant break, in 2004. It continues the transitional phase that became an emergency after Berry's departure, but really had been going on since Monster. It's a polished effort, carefully crafted, and like all R.E.M. albums is not without its merits. Still, the band seems adrift. The hole left by Berry remained unfilled; Stipe's vocals are double tracked in many places, pushing Mills' voice deep into the background. Buck's guitar returns to the forefront, but displays little of its reckless abandon or intricate latticework of yore, instead it's workmanlike and perfunctory. The production is dense and obsessive; and the songs remain overly gloomy. Lyrically, the myths are gone; in there place are relationship songs, vague political songs, joke songs. It peaked at #13, the band's lowest charting since Life's Rich Pageant. Despite R.E.M.'s apparent decline over the past decade-plus, it's hard to count them out forever. There's no question about the talents of Stipe, Mills, and Buck. They've always shown a willingness to try new things, evolve, avoid pigeonholes. Back in the late 80's the band was asked how long they'd stay together; "until 2000" was their answer. In that light, Reveal and Around The Sun are bonuses in a career that would be worthy of remembrance had they never recorded another note after leaving I.R.S. Like many successful bands, time works against them; longer breaks between albums, more time spent with family than on the road helps break the intensity bands develop during formative years spent in close quarters. They can't be faulted for this; life comes first. The legacy of recorded work they've amassed so far is worthy of the rock 'n' roll Hall of Fame, and will assuredly be discovered by generations to come. The imprint they've left on the evolution of rock music is substantial, and their championing of competing and yourger bands is honorable.Should the inevitable occur and the band breaks up, perhaps at long last we'll see some live releases from the glory years at I.R.S.; bootleg recordings do brisk business even now. Wheter you were around for Murmer, or climbed aboard with Green, R.E.M.'s best work remains engaging and inspirational and still rewards closer listening.Weekly Artist Overview usually appears on Tuesdays.Be sure to visit Freeway Jam.Image Shack hosts my images.

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Weekly Artist Overview: The Barbarians

uao — Wed, 13 Jul 2005 02:18:51 EDT

Sometimes the story is better than the music. Rock 'n' roll has always been rich in good stories, and some of the best come from bands whose legacies are slim, or whose talents were ordinary. Collectors of 60's garage bands are well versed in many of the stories of very ordinary musicians whose moment in the spotlight was brief, but whose story contained the nuggets of a mini-heroic epic; bands whose triumphs and failures played out in miniature. One band whose famous story outweighs any real impact they had on the evolution of music is the Barbarians, from Provincetown, MA. Still, they did manage to leave a small musical imprint as well.In the pantheon, they are a footnote; a garage band that recorded one album and a handful of singles. A handful of misicologists suggest they were the very first punk band ever, pre-dating The Seeds. The high point of their career together was a single appearence on a filmed musical variety program, and a very peculiar single. Less well known is the band's metamorphosis into Black Pearl, an acid-rock band of some reknown among collectors, but forgotten by the public at large. Yet their story has become part of rock legend; the footnote will always be there. The lineup consisted of Jeff Morris, Jerry Causi, Bruce Benson and Victor "Moulty" Molten, who formed The Barbarians in 1963. Their debut single was "Hey Little Bird" recorded for the small local label Joy Records in 1964, the same year Beatlemania was breaking out across America. Their sound was primitive in the sense that all amateurs are primitive, and it borrowed heavily from the British Invasion groups; it lay somewhere between the Kinks and the Hollies sonically but with a vague menace to it, it featured a heavy-for-1964 fuzz guitar, one of the first ever on record.The band had something going for it. Image-wise, they were something new. Their name was chosen to reflect their primitive playing and their shaggy looks. Their hair was longer than anyone else's at the time; they wore leather sandals. Most striking of all was drummer Moulty; the victim of a childhood accident, he had a hook for a left hand; he drummed despite his disability. Live, they weren't fancy. They'd play tried and true cover versions of popular favorites of the day. Among their setlist regulars were "Memphis" "House of the Rising Sun", "Susie Q", and "Bo Diddley"; these would be delivered in an r&b style that could get hard when they were cooking. The band got its huge break in October 1964 when they were invited to appear on the T.A.M.I. (Teenage Music International) show, a musical variety package providing musical scholarships to teens, held at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in October 1964. This was a big deal; the show consisted of a lineup of heavy hitters and well-known teen favorites, Chuck Berry, the Supremes, The Rolling Stones, James Brown, Marvin Gaye, Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas, The Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, and others. Why the Barbarians were invited on the strength of their mostly unheard local single remains murky, although Moulty's hook may very well have put them over the line. It no longer matters; what matters is that the show was a resounding success; the Barbarians played "Hey Little Bird", and were suddenly on the map. The show was released as a successful film in 1965. On the heels of this useful publicity, the Barbarians got to record their one self-titled album for Laurie records in early 1965. The album is a fairly faithful run through of the numbers they played at their shows, with a large dose of covers. It's a classic garage band album; raw, unschooled, primal. The standout cut is the single, "Are You A Boy Or Are You A Girl?", which some claim is the first punk song; a statement of purpose and rumination on long hair, it had an aggressive jangle to it, and was delivered with a sneer, in an era when bands were still trying to make cheerful. The single reached #55 on the charts; the high-water mark of their career. Elsewhere, the album belies their amateur garage band background, from the echo-laden "Take It Or Leave It", which cops the chords from "Hang On Sloopy", and "What The New Breed Say", released as a second single, which leaned heavy on the percussion, and carried another quasi-punky message. Ray Charles' "I Got A Woman" veers towards rockabilly, and "House of the Rising Sun" is treated straight. The album isn't a classic of musicianship, but it does capture a time and era like almost no other record, and has long been a prized trophy for collectors. The producer was Doug Morris, who later went on to become President of A&M Records. Morris got a co-credit on "Are You A Boy Or Are You A Girl?"Not on the album (but included on subsequent re-issues in the 80's and 90's) was the most famous recording attributed to The Barbarians; the autobiographical "Moulty". Originally recorded on something of a whim, it is a strange record; Moulty delivers a soliloquy that hovers a fine line between touching and pathos, as he, speaking, tells the story of losing his hand and dreaming of the day he'd meet a girl who loves him for just him. The band breaks in with a classic garage band chorus singing only the line "Don't turn away" four times, and Moulty's monologue continues, accompanied by tearjerking harmonica and slow backing, before the band wraps it up with an even more insistent round of "Don't turn away" at the end. It is an oddly heartwarming tune in a very naked sense; despite its very obvious flaws. Unknown at the time, but subsequently revealed, the heartfelt accompaniment to Moulty's speech was played by none other than the Hawks (later The Band), not the Barbarians. Recorded in New York with Moulty after the rest of the band had gone home, it was released in 1966 attributed to Moulty and the Barbarians, apparantly against Moulty's wishes. However, the single, with its don't-give-up message, only reached #96; Laurie dropped them shortly after. The Barbarians subsequently broke up, but Jerry Causi, Bruce Benson, and Jeff Morris moved to California and went on to form Black Pearl with Bernie "BB" Fieldings and Oak O'Connor of the Tallysmen in 1967. Black Pearl was an acid rock band credited by late critic Lester Bangs as being among the trio of bands that bridged the gap between acid rock and embryonic heavy metal (the others being Blue Cheer and Iron Butterfly). Their self-titled debut appeared in 1968 on Atco, led by the single "Mr. Soul Satisfaction", which featured a fluid guitar hook, soulful hard rock vocals, and a gritty biker-oriented sound; more professional and very unlike the Barbarians. The band got some notice on the west coast early on, and Bangs championed them, but were never able to capitalize on it; although they lasted long enough to release Black Pearl Live the following year, they ultimately broke up and have receded into utter obscurity.The Barbarians, and Black Pearl, weren't great bands. But they were a colorful footnote to the times, and they do deserve credit for bringing some punk aesthetic to rock as well as having a slight hand in the birth of heavy metal. They're remembered today as most garage bands are, for the sounds encapsulated on a few singles. The curious, and those devoted to the neverending pursuit of the collection of garage band albums will find a lot to like on their lone album, now available with "Moulty", "Hey Little Bird" and other tracks added. Black Pearl's work remains out of print and difficult to find. Complete beginners ought to try out a garage band anthology first; Rhino Records' Nuggets series are phenomenal collections.Weekly Artist overview appears Tuesdays.Be sure to visit Freeway JamImage Shack hosts my images.

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Bonus Artist Overview: The United States of America

uao — Mon, 4 Jul 2005 16:39:20 EDT

I felt the 4th was a good day to tip my hat to this band One of the great virtually unheard bands of the sixties, a prized trophy for obscuro collectors, a groundbreaking electronic album, hardcore psychedelia that makes Jefferson Airplane sound like teetotalers, a snapshot of student radicalism, an album with one of the most alluring unknown female singers in rock history, a source of samples for trip-hop bands, a band about 30 years ahead of its time, take your pick; The United States of America were a lot of things to a very small number of people. They vanished without a trace, and their album with them; it wasn't until The United States of America was reissued in the 90's that they even have begun to to get their due; they remain a band known only to the rarified fringe where geek meets hipster.While their recording sounds dated now, in its primitive electronics and its radical, revolutionary, and psychedelic lyrics, it holds up as a sonic tour de force; it's one of those albums that any fan of late 60's music ought to hear, as well as fans of the avant-garde, electronica, ambient, and trip hop. It's so trippy, it's recommended that novices don't trip to it; "Hard Coming Love" is going to do frightening things to your mind. For a long time, information on the band was hard to find, but since their rediscovery, the story has finally come together.Joseph Byrd was the guiding force behind The United States of America. An ethnomusicologist and experimental musician from the UCLA New Music Workshop, he approached rock from a quasi-academic direction; his concept was cerebral, but the sounds he wanted extended beyond the brain and reached the central nervous system. Byrd was born in Kentucky, but moved to Tuscon, AZ as a child. In his late teens, he developed an interest in rock 'n' roll and country music, and played in a series of small, informal combos. His tastes grew more sophisticated when he attended classes at the University of Arizona. He took up vibraphone, and played in a jazz band with other students in the late 1950's. Byrd won a fellowship to Stanford, but instead moved to New York City in 1960 to explore the downtown music scene, which at the time was thriving with experimental and avant garde music. In New York, he first began composing his own experimental music, which gained him some recognition in high places; he met up with classical composer Virgil Thomson, then in his late sixties, an acknowledged influence on Aaron Copeland. Thompson hired him as part-time conductor and arranger, as well as assistant and gofer. Another early acquaintance was Terry Riley, whose minimalist electronic epic, A Rainbow In Curved Air in 1967 remains a milestone, and a big influence on Philip Glass, and who would also work with John Cale in the 70's. La Monte Young was another big avant-garde name in their circle. Byrd himself was involved to a degree with the radical folk and free jazz scene, as well, although not as a major player.This experience left an impression on Byrd, who ultimately relocated to Los Angeles after being offered a teaching position at UCLA in 1963. UCLA in the mid-60's was an increasingly divided campus; it attracted bright humanities students and bright engineering students. There was a proto-hippie element and a solidly short-haired population. Byrd ultimately cast his lot in with the hippies, and moved into a beachfront commune with a group of grad students. At the commune, he was exposed to Indian music, modal playing, and most likely, mind-altering drugs (LSD was legal until October 1966). He developed interests in the use and effects of acoustics in music, as well as psychology. With the New Music Workshop, he worked with Don Ellis and explored the ideas of Charles Ives. He began his first electronic experimentations on a Moog synthesizer, an instrument then scoffed at by musicians for being a machine, and also for its $20,000 price tag.As hippie teacher, he actively participated in the student movement at UCLA, joining protests for civil rights and against the war; he then left the school in 1967 to pursue music full time. He also became active in the organization of Summer of Love "happenings".This required him to have a band, and he assembled one piece by piece. His first partner was fellow radical Michael Agnello; they were joined by Byrd's ex-girlfriend from New York, Dorothy Moskowitz, who had spent time writing and performing in musical theater. Stu Brotman, who had played bass in the seminal L.A. psychedelic band Kaleidoscope was also enlisted.They cut some demos in 1967 that landed in the hands of young Clive Davis of Columbia Records, who was looking actively for what might be the "next big thing", and he was taken with their electronic experiments. He signed the band, which led to Agnello's departure; he accused Byrd of working with the system, rather than subverting it. Brotman split as well; he'd later turn up in Canned Heat. Undeterred, Byrd put together a new band, consisting of himself on all manner of electronic devices, primarily a Durrett synthesizer, Moskowitz on vocals, and a group of UCLA grad students; Gordon Marron on electric violin, Rand Forbes on bass, and Craig Woodson on drums. Ed Bogas, while not credited as a member on the album jacket, contributed piano, calliope, and organ and played on the band's lone tour. The band, and their recordings, featured no guitarist at all.The musicians tinkered a lot to come up with their sound; Forbes played an unfretted bass, one of the first to use that instrument; often the bass would be fuzzed up and used as a lead instrument. Marron's violin had a built-in divider that could raise and lower it an octave. One trick among many that Woodson applied was hanging slinkies from his cymbals. Tape echo and vocal distortion was liberally applied as was the band's most noticable sonic piece of equipment, a ring modulator, which provided their space-bending musical warps and rushes. Moskowitz's voice has often been compared to Grace Slick's, and the comparison holds, although Moskowitz had a chillier, more detached and remote style. Byrd and Marron also contributed vocals. This lineup recorded their lone album, The United States of America in 1968. It stands as one of the only vintage psychedelic albums that attempts to take psychedelia in an electronic direction; Fifty Foot Hose, a long-forgotten San Francisco band, and the duo Silver Apples, may well have made the only others. The album begins with the tense, frightening, atmospheric, "The American Metaphysical Circus". Its circus theme and calliope recall the Beatles' "Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite" on belladonna, but musically, it's a whole different trip. Moskowitz sings alluringly of torture and sadism while the ring modulater sounds like a theremin in the background, and the band paces itself with a bass-heavy slow groove; as the song progresses, the stereo separation becomes disorienting, and her voice becomes filtered and distorted into a hallucinatory leer. It's followed up by "Hard Coming Love" where the electronics take center stage, while Moskowitz' lyrics are strongly suggestive of the beginning of a heavy trip, made explicit by the ring modulating that runs amok in its mimicry of a drug rush. A gentle lull follows in the shape of "The Cloud Song" a gentle fable adopted from Winnie The Pooh that floats on swirling electronic modalities, and then the drugs kick in again, for the scary "Garden of Earthly Delights" which is an uptempo endorsement of deadly nightshade and all other potent psychedelics; it can also be read as a love song. Also of note are the fuzz-bass driven "I Wouldn't Leave My Wooden Wife For You, Sugar", a Byrd skewering of middle class America, the dreamy psychedelia and au currant politics of "Love Song For The Dead Che", "Coming Down", an update of sorts from "Hard Coming Love" in which Moskowitz speculates "there is sometimes a secondary phase" before the song worms into another psychedlic cacophany of electronic swirlies and rushes. The album closer, "The American Way Of Love" is musique concrete, a sound collage of flashbacks from earlier in the album, with some Charles Ives marching bands thrown in. The album isn't flawless; Marron's vocal on "Where Is Yesterday" is a little shaky, some of Byrd's politics get a little smug in places. But those are nitpicks; the overall album is unlike any other. In spirit, it could be compared to Frank Zappa or Velvet Underground, but not in sound. David Rubinson produced, and by all accounts it was a painstaking job wiring things together for an 8-track recording.Columbia apparantly nixed a proposal to release the album with an American flag dripping blood on the cover; bandmember photos were used, and the album was wrapped in a plain manila envelope that read "The United States of America", and left it at that.Commercially, the album proved too freaky for most people; it peaked at #181 and was off the charts in weeks. Still, it was an excellent showing for an avant garde album, and the album, while controversial, generally received raves from the hippest corners of the rock press. The band's tour was launched to coincide with the album, and they attempted to reproduce the exact sound of the album onstage; according to those who were there, it suffered from the electronic equipment failing at inopportune moments, another problem was in finding the right venues for the avant-garde/revolutionary act. At one gig, they shared the bill with the Velvet Underground. Unfortunately, the band started falling apart fast during the tour. At a key gig at the Fillmore East, Byrd and Marron came to fisticuffs backstage. At a later gig in Orange County, three members were busted for marijuana; Byrd and Moskowitz had to perform augmented by the opening act. Producer Rubinson, who was integral to the band's sound, and Byrd also came to disagreement over the band's sound and direction. Byrd was gaining a reputation as being a hard taskmaster; he sacked Rubinson, which apparently led to Moskowitz' subsequent departure, followed by the others. And that was that. Byrd attempted a follow-up, credited to "Joe Byrd and the Field Hippies" titled The American Metaphysical Circus, also for Columbia, but the album tanked; the critics didn't like it either. In reality, it's an interesting experiment; nowhere near the quality and adventurousness of the United States of America album, but still fairly challenging and interesting. Moskowitz was invited to apply vocals, but turned down the offer. Instead a series of vocalists, including Susan de Lange, Victoria Bond and Christie Thompson, supplied vocals. Moskowitz joined another group, a conventional hippie/folkie band, but it never recorded or released any recordings. Subsequent years have produced little else. Byrd's next effort wasn't until 1975, Yankee Transcendoodle, an album of moderately interesting synthesizer noodling. He served as producer on Ry Cooder's 1978 album, Jazz. His next effort was A Christmas Yet To Come, from 1980, another album of synthesizer transcendoodles. Since then, he has contributed the occasional advertising jingle and film score. He did write a fascinating essay for Sundazed records' reissue of The United States of America, which features 10 interesting bonus cuts, mainly demos. As of 2004, he owned and operated a bed and breakfast in northern California and also worked as a teacher. Moskowitz' bewitching voice has only turned up on one other album, briefly, as part of Country Joe McDonald's All Stars, who released Paris Sessions in 1973. She retired from music to raise a family, and currently works as a teacher in Oakland, CA. Marron gets the occasional gig as a session musician; he's currently based in Hawaii. Woodson has appeared with Kronos Quartet and also teaches. Ed Bogas composed music for Ralph Bakshi's Fritz The Cat, and also for children's animation. Forbes has left the music business altogether. The United States of America's legacy remains their one magnificent album. Traces of their music may be heard in the early 70's English progressive rock outfit, Curved Air. Contemporary U.K. psychedelic/electronic/avant garde band Broadcast has cited them as an influence, and trip-hop pioneers Portishead thanked them on an album cover; their "Half Day Closing" borrows more than just a little from "The American Metaphysical Circus".Weekly Artist Overview usually appears on Mondays.Be sure to visit Freeway JamImage Shack hosts my images.

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Weekly Artist Overview: Pavement

uao — Mon, 4 Jul 2005 10:14:17 EDT

Pavement, in some respects, are the quintessential slacker band. Their music was textbook lo-fi, their lyrics were sardonic and indecipherable, leader Stephen Malkmus' jaded vocals recalled Lou Reed, their songs were often fragmentary and seemingly half-finished, they lit feedback bombs in unexpected places, and they took a whatever's-handy approach to production, tossing in virtually anything that might seem to make an interesting noise.It seems unlikely that Malkmus and crew realized what they were doing when they first started banging around in a shed in Stockton CA. Time has since put their achievements into better relief; Pavement were the leaders of the lo-fi movement, perhaps the most critical genre of the early 1990's, and the lessons they taught, particularly on Slanted and Enchanted, continue to inform loners with 4-tracks around the world. They helped re-shape the indie world, garnered considerable critical attention, and earned a devoted cult of fans and inspired fellow musicians, and took the DIY ethic a step forward from punk; more than anyone at the start of the 90's, Pavement showed that literally anyone could make a convincing, challenging album. Their main competetors were Sebadoh, but history has been kinder to Pavement. Pavement was formed in Stockton in 1989 by Stephen Malkmus and childhood friend Scott Kannberg in 1989. Malkmus had just returned from the University of Virginia, where he had majored in history. At this time, the duo called themselves S.M. and Spiral Staircase, a name also used by Kannberg himself. At the beginning, they considered themselves a studio project; with no band, they had no plans to tour. Malkmus did most of the singing and songwriting.The duo met up with drummer Gary Young (not to be confused with drummer Gary Young of Daddy Cool and Jo Jo Zep) who was in his 40's and an eccentric veteran of third-tier local bands since the 1960's. He was living in Stockton as something of an acid casualty; however, he had his own tiny little recording studio and could still play drums. Malkmus and Kannberg invited Young to join them, while they availed themselves of his studio. The trio recorded an EP, Slay Tracks (1933-1969), named after a high school shooting incident that occured on the day of recording in 1989. Murky and noisy, it is a lo-fi recording of guitar feedback and angst; at times bordering on unlistenable, it also offered glimpses of talent underneath. Discs were pressed on a homemade label called Louder Than You Think for $800. Kannberg handled promotion, which mainly involved giving away the disc to friends, relatives, his dad, fanzines, and a few small record labels. The few that found their way into the hands of reviewers did get some lukewarm notice; the jittery melodies and noise were something different. One early recipient of theis rare pressing was influential British deejay John Peel. On the strength of this, the band was able to get a deal with the somewhat larger Chicago indie label Drag City, who came to specialize in both lo-fi and experimental music. The trio followed this up with Demolition Plot J-7, released on Drag City in 1990. While this too is a screeching, muddy noisefest, it also demonstrated an embryonic pop sense creeping in. Demolition Plot J-7, while nearly as noisy and chaotic as its predecessor, actually had a great song on it, "Forklift", and a fairly touching emotional number called "Perfect Depth". It represented a progression from the debut; after celebrating noise on Slay Tracks, the music was taking on a shape and something of a signature sound. The band's lack of a cohesive identity actually added a hint of mystery to the music, which bolstered their appeal. Perfect Sound Forever is where Pavement starts sounding like what they were destined to become. The title was an audacious gauntlet thrown down in the face of what still remained half-formed music, but the best moments on the disc come close to living up to it; "Debris Slide" and "From Now On" are early anthemic classics of slackerdom, and provide a taste of what would come shortly after. Perfect Sound Forever was written up in numerous publications; Pavement was becoming a name people recognized, even if few had still heard their music. The interest began to grow so much that poorly-mixed tapes of the band's debut album, Slanted and Enchanted were leaked and began to circulate among fans and critics. Their sound was compared to R.E.M., Sonic Youth, the Pixies, and British lo-fi pioneers The Fall; a British music magazine would later play "Two States" for Mark E. Smith of the Fall, telling him it was an old Fall b-side. Smith believed them.The band still hadn't played any live gigs; it wasn't until early 1991, after their third EP, that they began to play in front of audiences. For their first shows, Pavement added bassist Mark Ibold and a second drummer, Bob Nastanovich, a college friend of Malkmus. The latter was asked to join in order to bolster the shaky timekeeping of Young, who stayed in the band. All members were present for the recording of the band's debut album, Slanted and Enchanted, although little of the album was recorded together; most of it was assembled by Malkmus and Kannberg. Slanted and Enchanted is unusual in that it was already garnering praise even before it had been released; the leaked tapes had reached almost mythical status. The band landed with Matador records for the release, which came in Spring 1992. Having played few live dates, the band's fans at this point consisted almost solely of critics and musicians. Slanted and Enchanted changed this immediately; coming from seemingly nowhere, it established itself almost immediately as a classic, and still holds up as one of the essential albums of the 1990's. It is here that the noisy, rudimentary promise of their early EP's draw together in a complete whole. True to form, the album is lo-fi and primitive sounding; however the songs themselves are remarkable in their rich detail. Malkmus takes conventional songwriting and stands it on his head, but without sacrificing his blossoming melodicism and songcraft. Many of the songs are fragments, the melodies drift in and out, but the overall effect is greater than the sum of its parts; the experience some have compared to listening to the best college station in the world over an AM transistor. "Summer Babe" was the leadoff cut, and is instantly winning in its laid back groove. "Trigger Cut" is their best Fall-like song, subverted with a falsetto sha-la-la backing. Instead of reckless noise, the band put together a compellingly listenable collection, full of surprises like bells, weird drumming, chiming guitars, unexpected melodic choruses, and things that click and clack. The album won them many new fans, although it didn't make the charts. With this encouraging start, the band began touring in earnest; their live shows became notorious for their sloppy sound, and Young's downright peculiar behavior. He greeted the audience at the door, shook their hands, handed them salads or cucumber sandwiches. He'd do handstands on stage, he'd pass out drunk. He was present for the band's next release, and EP called Watery, Domestic, which was a transitional release that showed Malkmus and Kannberg moving away from their static-laden roots and moving towards a cleaner sound. It's an excellent disc; the slow grind of "Lions (Linden)" points to denser directions, and the wistful "Frontwords" is a winner. Best is the leadoff, "Texas Never Whispers", one of their most straightforward songs so far. Young no longer fit into the band's direction and either quit or was fired in 1993. His replacement was Steve West, an old friend of Nastanovich. As good as Slanted and Enchanted is, there are many who think their next album, Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, is even better. It was the album that broke them to the mainstream, thanks mainly to "Cut Your Hair" a pop hit and MTV staple. The album is much cleaner than the debut, for better and worse, but the songwriting continues to improve, from the countrified "Range Life" to the dark "Newark Wilder". "Range Life" got them into hot water with Billy Corgan, for including a swipe at Smashing Pumpkins in its lyrics. Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain lacks some of the head-scratching mystery of previous releases, but keeps their off-kilter fragmentary tunefulness in place, making it more accessable. More importantly, it represented the real cohesion of Pavement as a band, rather than Malkmus and Kannberg plus. They go from rock to pop to jazz to country as musicians, rather than clip-art artists, often within the same song. "Stop Breathin" is a heart-rending ballad, "Unfair" is an angst riot, "Silence Kit" begins as a mash of wah-wah and fuzz before slipping into an airy California pop tune. Pavement demonstrates here how from chaos comes order, a very different message from earlier heroes like Velvet Underground, who took order and turned it to chaos. Slanted and Enchanted captures Malkmus and Kannberg in their inspired naivete; Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain captures Pavement as it matures. Another first-rate indispensible 1990's album. It also made the charts, peaking at #121.Not everybody loved them, however. Pavement joined the 1994 Lolapalooza tour and received very mixed reactions from the audience, ranging from adoration to hostility; at one stop in West Virgina, the crowd pelted the band with rocks, forcing the red-faced and upset band to walk offstage mid-set.The band spent 1994 recording a follow-up, and Malkmus and Nastanovich also lent a hand to Starlite Walker, the debut album by the Silver Jews, led by their college friend David Berman. Either because of their underground success, or their overground mixed reception, Pavement got their next album together quickly; Wowee Zowee was released in early 1995. At first listen, it sounds like the band was trying to please everybody; even for them, it was a diverse offering. The styles bounce all over the place; from punk, to English beer hall, to country, to jazz, to soul, to west-coast pop. They take a few more swipes at contemporaries, this time Ween, Suede and Stereolab. The overall tone is more melancholy, with stately washes of feedback that recall Neil Young in places. No quasi-hits in the sense of the straightforward "Cut Your Hair" are present. In a sense, the band merely does what it has always done; taken a post-modern approach to music, in which anything becomes grist. However, a critical backlash was beginning; the same critics who once lauded their eclectic fragmentary approach were now condemning them for it. In truth, the album isn't quite as good as its predecessors, or at least, it isn't as acessable. It is one of those albums that require several plays, upon which it sounds like a logical and well constructed follow-up. It sold about the same, peaking at #117. The backlash continued for almost two years. In 1995 the band again joined Lolapalooza, and were miscast as a main stage band, they played to sparse audiences; had they been second stage, they probably would have fared better. A 1996 EP, Pacific Trim was released, and gained them weak notice from the press, who noted a retreat from the eclecticism they disliked on Wowee Zowee, and now disliked the retreat. Indeed, it is an un-Pavementlike recording; its four songs were originally intended for the Silver Jews, but when a recording session was cancelled, Malkmus had Pavement record them instead. It's a minor, but pleasant enough addition to their catalog. Brighten The Corners, from 1997, is a subtle change for the band. A little more muted than in the past, they instead channel their eclecticism into creating a solid set of songs that hold together a little more, sonically. It opens with the withering dissonance of "Stereo", which reveals a hidden, joyously delivered chorus. Kannberg's "Date w/IKEA", features distorted vocals that retain their melodicism, "Shady Lane" is catchy and guitar based, "Blue Hawaiian" features some hip-hop inflections that grow on the listener, given a chance. "Fin" borders on sadcore, with its grandiose bleakness. Once again, it takes a couple of listens to realize the stately beauty of the album. While Malkmus and Kannberg get a little too wise-guy for their own good in places, it doesn't diminish the overarching and ambitious musical statements. It's a full return to form, and proved their best selling so far, reaching #70 on the charts.It didn't win over a lot of their enemies, however, who used "slacker" as a slur against these middle class Californians who seemed too lazy to develop the technical chops their albums' ambitiousness seemed to demand, nor did Malkmus' smug and smartass attitude at times win them friends. The band was disappointed with the critical reception for Brighten The Corners, and their humor often seemed misunderstood. Some of the good reviews called the album "mature", while erstwhile fans pointed to it as a sign of decline.Coming off a worldwide tour, the band decided to take a break in early 1998. Malkmus busied himself with the Silver Jews, while Kannberg started up a label, Pray For Mojo, and also did some drumming for an impromptu San Francisco covers band, Half Five Quarter to Six. The band members also devoted time to their families, after the years of work. The months passed, and rumors began to swirl that the band's heart wasn't in it anymore, that a break-up was imminent. Pavement insisted there would be an album in 1999, and true to word, Terror Twilight was released. Nigel Godrich was an eyebrow-raising choice for producer. Noted for his smooth-as-silk production of Natalie Imbruglia, Beck, and Radiohead, he seemed likely to sand off Pavement's rough edges; Pavement without rough edges would be a greatly diminished band. Fortunately, Godrich didn't sand-down the band so much as reign them in, as he had done with Beck and Radiohead, and having a reign on Malkmus and Kannberg did help make the album more cohesive and accessable. However, it doesn't sound like Pavement of old; Kannberg has no songs included, and Malkmus has never seemed so laid back. The guitars recede into texture with minimal outbursts; if anything, the album is missing the firey unpredictibility Pavement had built its name on. It's still a fine album, if unrepresentative. "Spit On A Stranger" and "You Are A Light" are standouts. While derided by some as a pop move, others found this to be the easiest listening of the band's career, and again saw it as a sign of further "maturation". Terror Twilight peaked at #95. The rumors of a break-up grew after that; Malkmus began playing solo dates which made Terror Twilight seem in retrospect like a solo run-through. These fears proved correct in late 1999 when the band didn't so much as break up as simply wander away. Pavement announced they'd be splitting "for the forseeable future", while Matador Records hinted it would only be a temporary hiatus. At their final gig, at London's Brixton Academy, on November 20, 1999, the band played with a set of handcuffs hanging from the mic stand. Malkmus said it was a symbol of being in a band. He thanked the audience politely at the end of the show, and the band left the stage.For awhile fans clung to the hope that the band was indeed on "hiatus", but in 2000, as Malkmus worked on a solo project and Kannberg reunited with banished drummer Gary Young in a project called the Preston School of Industry, it became clear that the band wasn't going to come together again. Both toured separately in 2001; rumor has it they were no longer getting along. Neither explicity said the band was finished, but hinted at it a lot. In a sense, it was the ultimate slacker-style breakup; and it frustrated their fans. They leave behind a fine legacy; all five of their albums are good, if challenging, listening, and two of them are great. There are still those who say the band was more a sum of their influences than influential themselves; however, it's hard to conceive of many late 90's lo-fi bands existing without them. Their music was challenging, fun, and didn't rely on technical ability; it showed the average slacker that you can make music, and complex music at that, with a minimum of resources.In 2002 Slow Century, a DVD of all their videos, some live performances, a 90-minute documentary, and assorted other goodies was released, Slanted and Enchanted has also been re-released in "deluxe" format, as a double CD with bonus tracks, including live ones. Weekly Artist Overview usually appears on Tusdays. Be sure to visit Freeway JamImage Shack hosts my images.

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Weekly Artist Overview: The Sex Pistols

uao — Tue, 28 Jun 2005 20:04:04 EDT

There are few bands in the history of rock that have left a greater impression in such a short time as the Sex Pistols. The band was together for about two years, they never charted a single in America, and they never recorded a complete album together; their lone album was largely a singles collection.However, had there been no Sex Pistols, the current musical landscape would be a vastly different one; everything that came after their 1976-1977 existence has somehow been touched by them, either directly as a musical influence, or indirectly in terms of the recontextualization of rock music the Pistols achieved in their brief moment. Punk, indie rock, and alternative rock all owe a tremendous debt to the band whose stated goal was to destroy rock 'n' roll. They might not have succeeded in their mission, but they did manage to change its face forever.Their music was raw and nihilistic; The Ramones were a cheerful pop band in comparison. In England, they were more than a dangerous band; they were a bona fide threat to the social order and the monarchy itself. In America, most people didn't hear of them until they were already gone; still, the shadow cast by their small clutch of releases had immediate and irreversable effect on punk rock; the overwhelming rage and sonic attack their music held, and their defiant, do-it-our-way attitude were the cornerstones of a whole new generation of music. Their story begins in 1975 when Malcom McLaren, owner of the London boutique SEX, decided to take some principles learned from the French situationist art terrorists of 1968 and apply them to the staid boys' club of rock music. The idea was to shake things up with a large dose of provocative anarchy that would fly in the face of the pomposity of progressive rock and the flaccidity of country-rock and singer/songwriter music. Having very briefly worked with the provocative New York Dolls at the end of their career, he had some rock experience; this time, he wanted to be fully in charge of a band from the start, and orchestrate their attack like puppetmaster.Fortunately for McLaren, he had the nucleus for a band hanging around (and occasionally shoplifting from) his boutique. Working at SEX as shop assistent was bass player Glen Matlock; a pair of scruffy regulars were guitarist Steve Jones and drummer Paul Cook. By late 1975 the trio had formed a band called the Swankers, with McLaren managing. It wasn't enough; McLaren wanted a frontman so outrageous, so rude and in-your-face, so snotty and acerbic that the band couldn't help but get noticed.A McLaren buddy, Bernie Rhodes (who would go on to manage the Clash) made the discovery of a generation when he spotted a green-haired, nearsighted, scrawny and ill-looking kid named John Lydon, who was decked out in a T-shirt emblazoned with "I Hate Pink Floyd" on it. Rhodes talked the skeptical Lydon into auditioning for McLaren. The audition came at a pub not far from McLaren's shop on Kings Road; Lydon sang a ridiculous version of "Eighteen" by Alice Cooper. McLaren saw what he wanted, and told Lydon to be at a rehearsal the next week at another pub called The Crunchy Frog, in Rotherhithe. Lydon duly arrived, but Cook, Jones, and Matlock took an instant disliking to him; Lydon was disgusted that the three hadn't bothered to tune their instruments. He immediately called McLaren and told him the deal was off, but Mclaren wouldn't let him leave; despite the animosity present from the moment Lydon entered the door, Lydon and the band practiced together, and the lineup was set. Lydon's contribution to the noisy, poorly-tuned band was his quick wit which masked an intelligence he tried to keep hidden behind his nihilistic flair for fashion and his obnoxious, confrontational pronouncements. The band was on its way to becoming the most subversive of all time.Cook and Jones, despite their initial sloppiness, were actually very good musicians; Jones in particular had already developed the no-frills style that would land him plenty of sessionwork after the Sex Pistols ended. The band began playing London art colleges in early 1976, and became notorious overnight. A small but rabid crowd of misfits glommed on to their music, which was noisy, rudimentary, and abrasive, giving birth to the very first stirrings of the punk movement in England.Lydon, who had taken the stage name Johnny Rotten, re-invented the concept of frontman virtually on his own; there wasn't really anyone to base his persona on. His image was one of utter contempt, delivered with a sneer that would've left Elvis' lip trembling. He was an instant icon of the anti-rock star, and rapidly became the focal point of the band. The band's confrontational style was designed to anger audiences, and the threat of violence became very real at their shows; sometimes the band would get pissed at each other, nearly coming to blows onstage. Other times, the audiences they baited would be whipped into a frenzy of fists, gobs of spit, and flying beer bottles. This managed to get them banned in many of the venues they played; the band responded by playing in unconventional venues such as cinemas and prisons. By October 1976 their notoriety was getting them mentioned in the newspapers; EMI records, who had once had the Beatles recording for them, signed them for a sizable advance. A tour was set up with The Clash, the Damned, and the Heartbreakers, but after the first few gigs erupted in mayhem, there were mass cancellations by the venues. Meanwhile, the band's first single, "Anarchy In the U.K.", a powerful, leering attack on the status quo and a statement of purpose, was banned by the BBC and many retailers. Despite this, it still managed to reach #38 on the charts. National awareness of this growing menace came in December 1976 on the stolid tea-time show London Today. Trusted host Bill Grundy introduced the scrawny, malnourished band dressed in rags and tatters; the band promptly cussed him out on national TV. The outraged headlines the next day spoke of moral degeneration and made the band the hot topic of the week, igniting their career. There was a price to be paid, however. EMI dropped the band like a hot potato in January 1977; the band was banned from playing all over the country. The band itself was still at each others' throats. Somehow, Cook, Jones, and Lydon discovered Matlock was a Beatles fan; this couldn't stand in the world's most dangerous band, and he was kicked out. Lydon brought in a friend, Sid Vicious (aka John Beverley or Simon Ritchie), an almost cartoon version of punk rocker. Vicious coudn't play his bass at all, and wasn't very bright; his inability to play clashed with Cook and Jones, who could play. Fans greeted him with suspicion, and in some cases, outright hostility. His American girlfriend, groupie Nancy Spungen, introduced him to the heroin that would ultimately kill them both.A&M records decided to take a chance, signing them for a hefty bonus outside the gates of Buckingham palace. Ten days later, they were dropped, after A&M employees refused to work on the band's behalf. This threatened to kill McLaren's (and now Rotten's) vision; fortunately, a reprieve came in the form of Richard Branson, hippie capitalist and owner of Virgin records, no stranger to controversy himself. It was Branson's Virgin records that released the band's most notorious single, "God Save The Queen" in time for the Queen's Jubilee celebrations.It was an explosive piece of dynamite, and its anti-monarchist message earned them instant enemies around the kingdom. It received zero radio airplay, nor was it carried in many shops, but nontheless became the biggest selling record in the country. On the day of the Jubilee, the band played on a Thames riverboat; the police shut them down and took the band to jail for the night. All of this was better than McLaren ever imagined, but there was a serious backlash. The punk revolt in England gave birth to the anti-punk response; punks were randomly beaten up on the streets; Rotten and Cook received a serious beating themselves. The band embarked for Sweden, where unsuspecting venues awaited, and released two more groundbreaking singles, "Pretty Vacant" and "Holidays In The Sun". The band returned to England and often played unannounced; it was the only way they could get in front of an audience. An album was assembled from the singles, the B-sides, and a few leftover tracks, Never Mind The Bollocks Here's The Sex Pistols. Released in November 1977, it went straight to #1, despite the usual boycotts and blacklist. One record shop clerk in Nottingham was arrested and tried for obscenity after putting it on display; he was ultimately acquitted. The album stands as a tour de force that many have copied but none have come close to equalling. It remains the quintessential punk album of all time; its chief assets are Rotten's snarling vocals and Jones' powerful guitar. Vicious' bass is absent; most of the cuts feature Matlock. This success despite everything lacked only one last necessary ingredient; the band needed to conquer America. True to fashion, a tour was put together in the most aggresively confrontational manner possible; the band played gigs throughout the Deep South in January 1978 to rednecks who cared nothing for the music, but wanted to see a freakshow. Vicious, seriously addicted to heroin at this point, slashed and mutilated himself on stage and traded insults and spit with audience members; the band was booed and catcalled at each stop.The tour lasted two weeks and concluded at San Francisco's Winterland Ballroom, a hippie mecca. Rotten's last taunt to the audience was "Ha ha! Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?" He then walked out, not just on the audience, but on the band as well. McLaren tried to get Rotten to reconsider, and was told to fuck off, or words to that effect, so he decided to salvage what he could without him. Cook and Jones were dispatched to Brazil, where they recorded "Belson Was A Gas" with Great Train Robbery fugitive Ronnie Biggs. Vicious recorded some Eddie Cochrane numbers, and gained a signature tune with a cover of Frank Sinatra's "My Way". McLaren was hoping to mold Vicious into the band's new frontman, but events finally got out of control. Vicious suffered his first overdose on a flight to New York City; landing in a coma for a spell. On October 12, 1978, Vicious awoke in his Chelsea Hotel room to find Spungen lying in the bathroom, dead of a stab wound. He was arrested and booked for murder, although he swore he remembered nothing from the night's events, due to heavy drug usage. Virgin records bailed him out, and he attempted suicide with a razor, landing in Bellevue mental institution. On December 9th, he smashed a glass in the face of Patti Smith's brother at Max's Kansas City and was arrested again. This time, he remained in jail until February 1, 1979; upon his release he immediately shot up some bad heroin his mother had gotten for him; he was dead within hours.Without the band, McLaren set about cashing in. October 1979 saw the release of the film, The Great Rock 'N' Roll Swindle; out of spite, McLaren saw that most of Rotten's appearances were left out; Matlock is absent altogether. Thus, the film is useless as the documentary it purports to be; still, it is compelling (if difficult) viewing, in the same manner as a car accident. Johnny Rotten reverted to John Lydon and formed the experimental band Public Image Limited, whose first release, First Issue, appeared in December 1978 to considerable praise. In 1986, the band sued McLaren for back royalties and won. In 1996, the original band with Matlock embarked on a reunion tour. While Lydon made no secret the tour was a money-making venture (it was called "The Filthy Lucre" tour), it did settle a question once and for all: the band really could play, and their music was every bit as powerful as it had been 20 years earlier, when it still meant something. A documentary, The Filth & the Fury, appeared in 2000. Weekly Artist Overview appears on Tuesdays.Be sure to visit Freeway JamImage Shack hosts my images.

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