'66

When I was eleven years old, I had little understanding of the dramatic changes that were taking place in pop music.   As a diehard Beatle fan I was of course on board with their 1966 single "Paperback Writer/Rain".   That b-side though was a sign post that things were changing.   Droning guitar, stop/start drumming, a vocal melody that moves at a glacial pace at odds with the instruments.

Looking back it seems clear that 1966 was a watershed year for a lot of bands, not just the Fab Four. And in fact one of my all time favorite Kinks albums was released that year.  With "Face to Face" Ray Davies took a big step forward with his songwriting, beginning his investigation of the minutia of modern life and those who live it.  There is of course the great three song arc (though not occurring consecutively on the LP) that traces the rise and fall of a man who once rode the wave of capitalism to its heights, only to lose everything and find himself with only a "Sunny Afternoon" to enjoy.   That album is chock full of great tunes and arrangements.   And for some reason the closing song - which tells no tawdry story but more than makes up for it with a joyful guitar lick, jaunty rhythm, and a lyrical precursor to Mr. Davies' songs which deal with memories -  has always been a personal favorite just because it makes me happy.  Really happy.  So if you wish to get happy with me, give a listen to "I'll Remember".

For Some Signpost That Is Not There

Many bands would have called it quits after the departure of two major contributors.  In 1969, Matthew Fisher left Procol Harum after producing their third (and perhaps finest) LP - A Salty Dog.  As the second major songwriter and singer in the group, his presence would be greatly missed.  Then in 1971 lead guitarist extraordinaire Robin Trower left the band for a solo career.  However the band did soldier on successfully mostly due to the charisma of singer/songwriter/pianist Gary Brooker.  But I would be negligent if I did not mention the other long time member who stayed the course - their drummer, B.J. Wilson. In many quarters he is considered to be one the of top rock drummers of all time.  Luckily there are few live recorded videos of the post-Fisher/Trower Harum which give an inkling of just what a force of nature Mr. Wilson could be.

Here is a TV performance from 1971 with Dave Ball as lead guitarist.  His stay with the band was so short that he never appeared on any studio albums.  But he had chops sufficient to play Robin Trower's licks with fire and intensity.   And what better tune to do so than Shine On Brightly, with its deep space beacon/siren as accompaniment to a fine tale of descent into madness.   And best of all - B.J. Wilson putting on a clinic on how to be a rock drummer.

Can’t find work since the band left town

Sometimes I just wanna rock out.   And when I really want to let go, the first tune I want to hear is the Guess Who's Heartbroken Bopper from 1972's tragically ignored Rockin' LP.  By this point Randy Bachmann had departed (after American Woman) and was replaced by - count 'em - two guitarists.  Both of these guys, Kurt Winter and Greg Leskiw, were excellent in their own right, but on those occasions when they paired for a twin lead guitar attack they could absolute pummel the listener. IMHO Kurt was every bit as fine a songwriter and guitarist as Bachmann, with a harder edge.  Accounts from back in the day paint him as somewhat of a Canadian hoser a'la Bob and Doug McKenzie of the Great White North on SCTV. In other words, he liked to party.

So wait for it - those introductory :43 seconds of noodling are setting up the listener for one of the most thuddingly powerful guitar intros ever.  And then when singer/jokester Burton Cummings comes at 1:13 he proceeds to tell the short and sad story of an unidentified hoser.   Mr. Cummings has a dossier filled with songs about similar losers and down-and-out individuals - remember Albert Flasher, or John with the gun in Rain Dance?   Maybe someday I will make an inventory of them.

Night school strutter just struttin’ around
Can’t find work since the band left town
Can’t get up cause he can’t get down

He’s a heartbroken bopper

Honor roll student graduation day
Summa cum laude is a big okay
Car wash king is havin' beans today

He’s a heartbroken bopper

Gunpowder Treason Day

John Lennon's first solo LP - Plastic Ono Band - has been on my mind a lot.  I recently watched a documentary about the making of the album on Netflix.   Then caught a blog post over at Alex's place and felt compelled to write something about it here.

When the album was released in 1970 I was a sophomore in high school.  For a period of a few years I had detached from popular music and culture and so missed out on most of the hoopla relating to the break up of the Beatles and their individual ventures into solo work. But a few years later when I entered college, I suddenly and vociferously began to investigate the back catalog of the ex Beatles.  I made up for lost time and bought everything I could get my hands on.  In the span of a few weeks I was introduced to Ram, Imagine, All Things Must Pass, McCartney, as well as some lesser output such as George's odd Wonderwall Music.   Friends had warned me that John's early solo output was depressing and tuneless.   So I waited a bit before jumping in.   But once I did, my perception of John Lennon changed dramatically.

Stripped of the high varnish of a George Martin production, POB immediately took me out into left field.   Comprised only of John's raw singing, angry guitar work, pounding piano chords, and the amazing rhythm section of Ringo and Klaus Voorman, there was something so new, so different in these sounds that I scarcely recognized it as John Lennon.   Ringo and Klaus formed a nucleus around each song from which John was freed to emote and/or scorch.  This was a soul baring exercise from a man who excelled at hiding his true feelings behind layers of words and images.  Immediately upon first listen I was captivated.  To me the music is liberating and in most cases even uplifting.  Even when John is pulling the scabs off of wounds - as in "Mother" - the experience is both devastating and yet cleansing.  I understand why he wanted to sing about it.

Overall the quality of the POB documentary was excellent.  The interviews were pertinent, most of the interviewees had insights to offer, and the breakdown of the music into single tracks (vocal, drums, etc.) was enlightening.   My one complaint is that a few of the songs were glossed over.  This was most evident for "Remember", which was barely heard for a few seconds.   Totally undeserving of being ignored, as it has some of the most interesting music on the LP.  To this day I have not figured out the changing meters.  And for the longest time I never understood the last line - "Remember the 5th of November" - which is followed by the sound of an explosion.   But thanks for Google I now know that John was referring to an annual fireworks night in Britain which celebrates the failure of a group attempting to blow up King James I.  Such a typical John Lennon prank to add this reference.

Did you ever feel so bad, and the whole world is slightly mad.  Remember, remember today.  Don't feel sorry, how fate has gone.   Don't you worry 'bout what you done.

Mountains pop out of the cake

Whatever I was doing in 1998 I somehow missed one of the great power pop albums of the last twenty years. The Wondermints may be familiar to you as the backing band for Brian Wilson over the last decade, so needless to say they have instrumental chops and vocal harmony prowess in spades. Early on they released a covers album well worth a listen. Their power pop take on Abba's Knowing You Knowing Me is mega tasty. In 1998 they released Bali - their debut of original material. The Beach Boys and Beatles debt is instantly apparent, although to their credit the songwriting is quite original in its synthesis of the last 40 years of pop music.

It was a difficult choice to cull just one song from the album for this blog, but I decided to go with In And Around Greg Lake. Yes that really is the title and I have not a clue as to what it is really about. The lyrics contain references to MacArthur park ("left the cake out in the rain"), the space shuttle Challenger disaster, and of course the obtuse geographical place name attributed to the fine guitarist from ELP.

On a side note, Mr. Lake was the only member of ELP that I have much appreciation for, and to this day it is his songs From the Beginning and Lucky Man that remain listenable to me. But I digress. From the opening piano ostinato chords pumping away, IAAGL hooked me from first listen. There is definitely an Abbey Road vibe to this song, especially the searing guitar and bass hooks that come out of nowhere. Consider this a one-off as nothing else on the album sounds remotely like it - but believe me it is all just as compelling.

Why I Ever Tried I Don't Know

It is a rare day indeed when a fresh young band releases a record that gets my attention. While visiting my local record store (the fantabulous Music Millenium in Portland, OR) I caught a few songs playing over the store PA. And this incredibly odd and wonderful feeling hit me - was I hearing a never released recording by The Nazz? Or was it a lost 60's psych band with a penchant for sounding like the Beatles circa '66. A giddy feeling took over me and I just had to know what was being played.

So I trucked over to the service desk and looked at the CD.... and see that it is Innerspeaker by Tame Impala. Who the hell was this? I asked an attentive staff member and he mentioned that they were a new band from Australia. Based on what I had heard I purchased the CD, rejoiced as I listened on my car stereo on the trip home. Upon arrival I immediately looked them up on the internet. These young men are barely out of their teens. And sure enough they hail from Perth - way over on the lost coast!

Repeated listenings have only cemented my opinion that these guys have the goods. Not only because I hear echoes of Todd Rundgren, early Pink Floyd, Revolver-era John Lennon, but because they pull together elements of sixties power pop and infuse them with a psych-trance groove in a wicked stew that is totally original in conception.

Choosing a tune to post for this blog was tough but I went with the number that first caught my attention in the store - Desire Be Desire Go. The initial guitar riff is spell-binding with its circular motion. When the middle section comes in with "Everyday..." I swear I hear Mr. McCartney. Goodness - the guitar sound with layers of feedback is just so delicious.

Tell me what you're after

Michael Brown is a pianist/songwriter who wrote two amazing hits for his first band the Left Banke - Pretty Ballerina and Walk Away Renee. And in fact just about everything he wrote for that band is top notch. His father was a violinist and Michael often added string arrangements to his songs, lending the "baroque pop" moniker to the Left Banke.

Several years after leaving the band his father introduced him to Ian Lloyd, a singer who was the son of a colleague. They formed a band known as The Stories and released two albums of classical-tinged rock. Michael left the band just as their record company foisted upon them what would become their only radio hit, the despicable Brother Louie. The band soldiered on for one more LP without Mr. Brown, but without his keyboard magic they faded into oblivion.

Those first two albums have a high percentage of listenable Beatlesque pop-rock and some killer string arrangements. Here is Please Please from their second LP About Us. That heavily reverbed piano opening is just so lovely.