As you head out for New Year’s Eve festivities, here’s some music to consider from the year past. Caution, not everything on this list could be described with the adjective “twang,” but it is comprised of music that made an impact on me during the past 12 months and I hope, if you get a chance to hear, it might have the same effect on you. See you in 2011. Play safe out there …
1. “Stranger Here” by Cowboy Junkies — Among the most straightforward numbers from the boldly experimental new album Remnin Park. That record was inspired by guitarist/songwriter Michael Timmins’ stint in China, where he observed that country’s jolting synthesis of hermetic ancient ways and explosive economic awakening. In their time, the Junkies have made some timeless music, but they’ve never made a record so timely. The first in a series of thematically linked albums called the Nomad Series, which promises to be one musical gesture worth watching in 2011. (from Remnin Park)
Speaking of being a stranger in town …
2. “New In Town” by Gary Lewis — A bonus single added to the reissue of Jerry’s (real) kid’s accomplished pop long player. Where the Junkies’ sense of alienation has geopolitical ramifications, here it’s presented as a juvenile bummer. (from Listen!).
And on the subject of disappointment …
3. “Tragedy” by Peter Wolf and Shelby Lynne — The song and the album that spawned it were my principal pleasures in 2010, but I especially love this clip of Wolf and Lynne rehearsing the song backstage somewhere: Shelby is audibly nervous she will forget the words, Wolf is typically loosey goosey. They sound glorious together and it’s hard to believe the paying audience that night didn’t miss the real show offstage. The disappointment, by the way, is not just the song’s theme but the fact that the record did not receive the warm commercial reception it most certainly would have in, say, 1978. (from Midnight Souvenirs)
Speaking of great moments in Youtube …
4. “Tightrope” by Janelle Monae — I became aware of this thrilling TV debut when my morning email box held a half-dozen YouTube links to the Letterman show performance from the previous night, from newly converted friends. With her future shock hair, black tuxedo, a catalogue of James Brown dance moves and a band which seemed to share the singer’s commitment to seize the moment, it makes for a hell of an intro. Too bad she felt she had to sell the song for a car commercial. But that’s the biz in showbiz, I guess (from The ArchAndroid)
Speaking of making a televised impression …
5. “Hey Joe/Sunshine Of Your Love (live)” by Jimi Hendrix Experience — Captured live on the Lulu Show in 1969 at the BBC, the southpaw guitar icon first burns through “Voodoo Chile,” then disrupts the host’s breathless intro with a blast of feedback, then obliges with a a brief treatment of “Hey Joe” (which incorporates a snippet of The Beatles’ “I Feel Fine”) before launching off into an unscheduled tribute to the at-the-time newly disbanded Cream. The audio was included on 2010’s reissue of Hendrix’s BBC sessions, but for the full effect, check out the beautifully shot and edited black and white TV performance and see how rarely nowadays truly live music is seen on TV. (from The BBC Sessions)
Speaking of upsetting expectations …
6. “Valley Farm Song” by Marah — After the scorched-earth fallout from their 2008 LP Angels of Destruction, this group reinvented itself with a new lineup, relocated to rural Pennsylvania and made a shambling, bleak but ultimately galvanizing record. This pounding track sounds like Bo Diddley performing at a St. Patrick’s Day parade. Perhaps to signal how significantly the guard had been changed, the set was originally available only as an LP or cassette (that’s not a typo). (from Life Is A Problem)
And on the subject of thwarted expectations …
7. “Here Comes My Ship” by Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby — The one-time Stiff Records coulda-been-a-contender and his equally ill-starred partner collaborate on this low-fi (beat box, feedback guitar, tinny synth) ode to delayed rewards (from Born Stiff: The Stiff Records Collection)
Speaking of delayed rewards …
8. “I Need A Dollar” by Aloe Blacc — With its syncopated piano, bubbling bass and nifty “hey-hey” vocal hook, this bleak evocation of challenged economic times is camouflaged in buoyant pop soul (live studio performance here). An anthem for this age, unfortunately. (from Good Things)
Further to fiscal matters …
9. “Dream Time (demo version)” by The Jam — A guitar-and-voice bash at the Brit group’s anti-capitalist anthem. At the time of its writing, Paul Weller had been listening to The Beatles and The Kinks, but on this Spartan version, he sounds more like a rabid Billy Bragg: “My love comes in frozen packs bought in a supermarket” (from Sound Affects Deluxe Edition)
Proof Weller’s still got it …
10. “7&3 Is The Striker’s Name” by Paul Weller — After settling into status as the prime practitioner of analog dad-rock, the former Jam main-man reinvents himself with a very contemporary sounding record that employs a full arsenal of modern sounds to stoke his fire to new heights — none higher than this combustible shave-and-a-hair-cut rhythmic assault. (from Wake Up The Nation)
Speaking of everything old being new …
11. “Ain’t Good Enough For You” by Bruce Springsteen — It’s perfectly understandable that, from the myriad of possible albums scattered among the 70 or so songs recorded for his follow-up to Born To Run, Bruce settled on the darker, deeper tunes that constituted Darkness On The Edge of Town. It’s also perfectly understandable, but a shame too, that in keeping with that narrow thematic line, some fine lighter fare was jettisoned; none lighter than this ditty. Although it would later be cannibalized for Gary U.S. Bonds’ “This Little Girl Is Mine,” this version includes a hilarious tip of the ball cap to Springsteen engineer (and latter-day record mogul) Jimmy Iovine: “I tried to change, got a job in sales/Bought a shirt I found at Bloomingdales/I tried to make the latest scene/Hip and cool, just like Jim Iovine.” For added fun, check out the video clip on the deluxe box set, where Bruce breaks up the control room when he debuts that verse. (from The Promise)
Speaking of hip and cool …
12. “Shoeing The Bones” by Cate Le Bon — Straight outta Penboyr (Wales), this idiosyncratic singer-songwriter has a morbid streak in her lyrics, a stripped down presentation that calls to mind Syd Barrett and a voice that commands you to lean in. Her pal Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals described her sound as “Bobbie Gentry and Nico fight over a Casio keyboard; melody wins.” I can’t top that. (from Me Oh My)
Did someone drop a few 60s referents …
13. “Ragunboneman” by Fabienne Delsol — Wherein The Tornadoes’ 1965 Joe Meek-penned ditty is given … not so much an update or a remake, but a distaff restoration. Delsol’s girlish warble sits well among the shrill keyboard and rolling drum part. (from On My Mind)
Speaking of skewed revivalism …
14. “Tender Object (first version)” by Orange Juice — Edwyn Collins’ early 80s teenage Scottish outfit was an almost impossible and impossible-to-resist combination of interests — the Byrds, second wave punk rock, Chic — and a lack of technical know-how.; they were either too untutored or too cool to tune their guitars. The sound was lacking in just about every way except self-confidence, and as it turned out their self-belief and faith in the sources from which they plundered was enough to create some charming music. In this early demo, they seem to be attempting a kind of proto rap (or botched square dance calling?) over jangly guitars and relentless snare rolling. “I see my reflection in the window/And I feign affection for that window/I could be kidding …” Collins adenoidally sings. It’s a wonder he could annunciate at all with self-aware tongue so deep in his cheek. But that also doesn’t preclude the results from being the kind of thing that, say, over-earnest young men with large record collections found utterly compelling circa 1980. Smiths fans will recognize that Morrissey must have been among our fraternity, too (from Coals To Newcastle)
Speaking of meta-pop …
15. “Daddy’s Song (with slow verse)” by The Monkees — Like Orange Juice, The Monkees’ envelope of irony concealed some truly transcendent pop. If you don’t believe me, listen to the Pre-Fab Four’s Headquarters LP and enjoy an enduringly great pop-rock album with some stirring proto-alt-country flourishes. This track is taken from the soundtrack to their Jack Nicholson-penned celluloid suicide note, Head (also reissued on DVD by The Criterion Collection). It’s a film so weird, so eager to bite the showbusiness hand that had created the Monkees, there was obviously no prospect that the group would endure as a teen sensation. Which seems to have been their intention. Their musical choices, especially after they wrested more control from Don Kirshner, were often fearless. This Broadway-style production of Harry Nilsson’s ode to paternal abandonment is done up in the film as a song-and-dance number for Davy Jones and Toni Basil (yes, she of “Hey Mickey” fame) rendered in stroboscopically synched-up, cross-cut versions of white-on-black and black-on-white. Like, wow man. (from Head Deluxe Edition)
While we’re talking about the Pre-Fab-Four …
16. “Nineteen Hundred And Eighty Five (One Hand Clapping Version)” by Paul McCartney & Wings — For the first 2:06, this is a piano-only run through of a forgotten post-Beatles number and it’s novel enough to help rediscover a neglected track from a perhaps overly-regarded LP. After the two minute mark, however, it sounds like this bonus version hard-edits back into the original version. Why? (from Band On The Run deluxe edition)
Speaking of scraps from the Beatles’ table ..
17. “Sour Milk Sea” by Jackie Lomax — Ringo on drums, George Harrison producing, Eric Clapton on lead guitar and underrated white blues shouter Lomax on vocals, performing this outtake from The White Album era Beatles. One of the highlights of the Apple Records long-overdue reissue campaign. For any bands searching for cool cover material, this is ripe for the picking. (from Is This What You Want)
From the fringe of the British Invasion file …
18. “You Really Got Me (demo)” by Sly & The Family Stone — Wherein Sly glares into the Davies Brothers’ timeless skronk and extracts the funk. It sounds like a studio goof-off session, but in the hands of a master, even a goof can be memorable. (from Listen To The Voices: Sly Stone In The Studio 1965-1970 )
Did someone say funk …
19. “Curse Upon The World” by Apple & Three Oranges — Maybe it’s the way the singer pronounces it “COISE!” and the group answers back “…upon the whirl …” Maybe it’s the free associating, testifying lead vocal. Nah, it’s the drumming. Try to sit still. (from California Funk: Rare 45s From The Golden State)
Did someone say drums …
20. “You Been Cheatin’ On Me Honey” by Riley — Funky drumming, anthemic southern rock guitars and twin harmonies about cheating women and revenge, from this long-lost country rock hidden treasure. A groove so greasy, you may require Clearasil treatments after one listen. (from Grandma’s Roadhouse)
Speaking of Grandma …
21. “Grandma’s Hands” by Merry Clayton — Although best known as the siren counterpoint to Mick Jagger on the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter” (a song she also covered solo), this take on Bill Withers’ song shows Clayton’s range and subtlety. (from the reissue of Merry Clayton)
And while we’re talking about the Stones …
22. “Plundered My Soul” by The Rolling Stones — Although I had issues with the inclusion on the Exile On Main Street reissue, of this — essentially a new track built on some barebones Exile leftovers — that doesn’t change the fact that the result is the best Stones single in … what, 20 years? (from reissue of Exile On Main Street)
And further to the Stones …
23. “No Sense Of Crime” by Iggy Pop & James Williamson — After the Stooges went kerblooey, these sessions saw Ig and Williamson collaborating on music that could have positioned him as heir to the Let It Bleed electrified country blues crown. It didn’t happen, but we can dream. (from reissue of Kill City)
And other things that “never happened …”
24. “Ooo La La” by News — Bless the independent reissue label compilers, who excavate the vinyl graveyard to reveal gems like this 1974 country-rock nugget. Tight harmonies accented by stealthy steel guitar, housed in a perfectly gaudy cardboard sleeve reproduction of the original LP cover, which did little to buoy the commercial fortunes of the fine music within. (from Hot Off The Press)
Speaking of commercial fortunes …
25. “Judge GTO Breakaway” by Paul Revere & The Raiders — Wherein the garage pop-rock titans applied their fuzzed out guitars to the creation of a jingle for the titular car. Product placement at your next frat party. (from Complete Columbia Singles)
Before we leave the garage …
26. “I Live In The Springtime (early version)” by The Lemon Drops — Like many music fans, I first became acquainted with this track by its inclusion on Rhino’s Nuggets box set, where it was presented as a drumless, droning, defiant invocation of the warm seasons built on desperately strummed guitars and keening harmonies. According to this reisssue of the band’s complete recorded oeuvre, the Rhino version was, in fact, an error — a flawed tape accidentally dropped out the drums. Here it is presented in original form and, in fact, multiple versions. Personally, the drums don’t add much, and if anything take away from the otherworldly feel of the song. But I’ll take this extended version. (from Sunshower Flower Power)
Turning to thoughts of warmer seasons …
27. “Yellow Days” by Gordon Downie — Over a hypnotic groove, the Tragically Hip’s singer conjures the desperate yearning for summer romance and formative experience “I swear I will take morphine and swim, if you take one more look at him,” Downie sings with a palpable desperation. And you have to love a song that rhymes “Johnny Cash” with “hotknife to the hash.” (from The Grand Bounce)
More Canadian nostalgia …
28. “What The Hell I Got” by The Blue Shadows — If you were near a radio in Canada in the mid-70s and you had genuine love for pop music, then you lit up whenever a Michel Pagliaro track came on the air. Although he had a decent career as a French-language artist in his native Quebec, somehow he converted into both Lennon and McCartney when he switched to English. In the early ‘90s, the stellar Canadian roots rock group The Blue Shadows tipped their cap to Pagliaro with this cover. Like Pag, the Shadows could mix up country, Mersey pop and gutbucket rock n roll. And like Pag, they were criminally ignored by the wider world. Don’t take my word for it (I wrote the liner notes for this reissue). Just get the record (from On The Floor of Heaven: Deluxe Edition)
Speaking of which …
29. “In My Hour of Darkness” by Hatcher-Briggs — One of the principals of the above-mentioned Blue Shadows was Jeffrey Hatcher. Prior to forming the Shadows, Hatcher had played with his siblings and friend David Briggs in Canada under various aliases (The Fuse, The Six, Jeffrey Hatcher & The Big Beat) with varying degrees of recognition. The reunited group has lately released a brand new album of bracing roots rock. One of the highlights is this swaggering treatment of the Gram Parsons’ nugget. Next time someone says they don’t make ‘em like this anymore, respond by spinning this (from Getting There From Here)
And further to family affairs …
30. “Little Miss Sunshine” by Harlan Pepper — Straight out of Hamilton, Ontario, the Peppers make music that sounds awfully timeless for such a young bunch. In this breathlessly delivered ode, voices emerge from the mix and trade off parts in a manner that is similar in strategy, if not result, to their Southern Ontario forefathers The Band. And it can’t hurt that bassist Thompson Wilson is the progeny of Lee Harvey Osmond/Blackie & The Rodeo Kings’ Tom Wilson. What’s bred in the bone … (from Young & Old)
On the subject of mentoring …
31. “I Don’t Want To Live Like This” by Kirsten Jones — When an artist raises money for their independent record by soliciting donations online, and ends up attracting production from Jayhawks’ Gary Louris by a Hail Mary unsolicited demo, the term chutzpah comes to mind. All would be for naught, though, if Jones squandered that self-created opportunity on a compromised record. Luckily, the results are as strong as this — a duet with collaborator Louris (from The Mad Mile)
Speaking of potentially squandered opportunities …
32. “Girl You’re Blowing My Mind” by Jan & Dean — Yes, I know. Surf rock also-rans. But the Rhino Handmade resurrection of their unreleased opus Carnival of Sound shows that — aside from some pointless oldies covers — J&D were halfway to making a rival to the ambitious walls of sound erected in Los Angeles during the 60s. If it ain’t exactly Smile, at its best it rivals Smiley Smile. (from Carnival of Sound)
Speaking of ambitious Golden State music …
33. “So Many People (demo)” by Paul Williams — Before he became known as the pen behind MOR for The Carpenters and Barbra Streisand and then settled into the talk-show circuit, Williams took a shot at his own career as a big voice fronting elaborately orchestrated pop in the Jimmy Webb mode. This demo denudes the ambitious orchestrations of the original to guitar, bass and Williams’ idiosyncratic voice. He’s an artist due for reappraisal. (from Someday Man: Deluxe Expanded Edition)
Speaking of big noise …
34. “Anything And All” by Jim Bryson/The Weakerthans — How better to wrap up 2010 than with a song seemingly inspired by a cold walk at the conclusion of 2009? As hushed and intimate as is the opening scene setting, presumably standing in the frigid cold outside a gathering NYE bash (“I could say anything and all outside these frost covered windows, while folks disappear and arrive at the same moment in time …”) the song then explodes into a small hurricane of noise. Is the sonic hurlyburly evoking the uncertainty of the coming 12 months? The frustration of promises undelivered in the now-completed year? Or the sound of people unleashing all that tension at an unhinged party? Vote for all of the above. (from The Falcon Lake Incident)
… and finally a song for midnight
35. “John Coltrane Stereo Blues (live)” by The Dream Syndicate –Although the reissue of the original LP Medicine Show was most welcome, the addition of contemporaneous live tracks like this one shows how much of the group’s berserk energy was checked at the studio door. Nine minutes of relentless brain warping guitars. Happy New Year (from Medicine Show)
