Yo Adrian…this one’s for you
I used to work at a place where each morning I was typically the second person to arrive in my office pod; the first was a fellow who would greet me each day by asking enthusiastically if I had watched whatever TV program he had watched the night before.
He’d pepper me with this query during that early AM time when you are trying to get those little things done log onto your computer, check your e-mail before the first sip of caffeine has started to work its magic. Not a golden hour for small talk, and invariably because his taste ran to reality shows and sitcoms and I don’t watch much network TV at all I would have to confess to my colleague that, no, in fact, I had not watched whatever program he had taken in last night.
And invariably, he would tell me I was a fool to have missed last night’s Fear Factor or Survivor because it was the best episode ever. And then he would recite to me in minute detail everything I had missed. Somewhere around the 100th time I endured this ritual, I exploded at him that if I really cared about those shows, rather than undergo his amateur episode summaries, I would watch them myself. But I didn’t watch the shows and didn’t feel I was missing anything, notwithstanding his program advocacy. I knew my peevishness baffled and hurt him, but somehow we got over it and, mostly as a result of his forgiving nature, we continued to work side-by-side for several years.
As I was preparing my year-end list recently, I came across the posting of my best-of selections from 2007 on Facebook and noticed that this same former colleague had responded to my picks back then, telling me which ones he agreed with, which records and movies he liked. Stumbling upon this year-old post had a particular poignancy because the correspondent passed away this month, much too young. Adrian Bromley, metal enthusiast, writer and ardent lover of life, was 37.
I wish I had been more respectful of Adrian’s desire to share his enthusiasms with me. That may seem like a strange admission to come from someone who has spent a significant part of his professional life as a critic, but I’m grateful Adrian didn’t hold that lack of insight against me.
This year, I offer up some selections of stuff I liked in 2008. I offer it with humility and respect for anyone who takes the time to read it, and I dedicate it to Adrian Bromley (1971-2008). Rest in peace.
“Soldier” by Erykah Badu: My single favorite track of 2008. A deceptively simple ditty from Badu’s album New Amerykah Part One (4th World War) that starts off as a character sketch of…who? Perhaps the president-elect (“Wanna learn more and more ’cause his mama taught him good/He’s about to change the face of your ghetto neighborhood”). Then it gets panoramic, embracing the personal (“To my girls in therapy/I’m-a tell you this for free”) to the geopolitical (“You get a wake-up call when you saw the building’s fall”). It’s all set to a subtle, thumping track, and Badu even managed to predict Sarah Palin’s retro-folksiness, with a chorus that goes “If you agree/Say yessiree.”
“A Day In The Life” by Neil Young: On the heels of the humdrum Chrome Dreams II and some of the strongest live shows of Young’s career, the singer reached into his tickle trunk and proffered his third unreleased early-career live show (Sugar Mountain: Live At Canterbury House 1968). The fact that his decades-delayed Archives project is available for preorder on Amazon.com suggests the long-suffering Neil fan may be poised for sweet relief. Or not. Still, for sheer inscrutability, you can’t beat Young’s decision to encore at some of his recent live shows with the Beatles classic. And speaking of ’60s British rock revisited…
Live At Kilburn 1977 by the Who: This concert was filmed on glorious 35mm for the documentary film The Kids Are Alright, and then scrapped. The belated DVD release makes no secret why. Although they have their moments, clearly the band is struggling to find a groove. During “My Wife”, Pete Townsend gets so peeved, he takes a swipe at a roadie and dumps over a stack of amps, then dismisses the film crew (they kept filming) and snarls at the crowd.
(Trailer for Live At Kilburn 1977)
For an instructive comparison, the disc also includes a 1969 London concert, shot during the Tommy tour in much lower fidelity. The contrast is stark: Less than ten years before Kilburn, this group was a force of nature. The synch between Keith Moon and Townsend in particular is a thing to behold. Everything that seems so effortless and instinctive in ’69 seems a bit of a slog in ’77, albeit still entertaining. Moon himself would be dead within months of the Kilburn performance. Let me use this opportunity to hope Mike Myers has run out his option to star in Moon’s biopic. And speaking of running…
“Run”, iTunes Exclusive Live Session EP version, by Kathleen Edwards: This song kind of drifted by me on Edwards’ Asking For Flowers, but done in stark acoustic terms, it emerges as one of her strongest compositions and a haunting performance. And speaking of songs called “Run”…
“Run (I’m A Natural Disaster)”, iTunes Live From Soho EP version, by Gnarls Barkley: For their second tour, Gnarls banished the orchestrated soul of their debut jaunt in favor of a drum machine/keyboard/guitar format backing the church ecstasies of singer Cee-Lo. It was a ballsy move. They sound more like primal Echo & The Bunnymen. BTW, that’s a good thing. Speaking of the Bunnymen…
“Ocean Rain” (live at Radio City Music Hall) by Echo & the Bunnymen: Everybody has their roots and I’ve got mine. As a young man, I was admittedly obsessed with this Liverpool group, and I’ve followed them through ups and downs ever since. Singer Ian McCulloch has, in recent years, just about done in his once near-operatic voice with ciggie abuse, and it was a source of some anxiety as to whether he would be able to rise to the occasion of this climactic performance to commemorate the release of their album Ocean Rain. Supported by a lush string section and the lusher environs of Radio City, Mac scaled the song’s crescendo and hit those daunting final notes. He is still Pavarotti in an army coat. And again, speaking of the Bunnymen…
“Daddy’s Gone” by Glasvegas: Opening that Radio City Bunnymen show was this Scottish combo, which carves a narrow, deep furrow in Phil Spectorish pop fed through rumbling guitars, kind of like a slightly softer, gentler take on early Jesus & Mary Chain. More truly, it sounds like the Ronettes backed by White Light, White Heat-era Velvets.
“Paper Planes” by M.I.A.: This was a 2007 release, but the song was resurrected this year by virtue of its affiliation with two different movies. The track, which was a standout on M.I.A.’s world-music tour de force Arular, is built on a sample from the Clash’s “Straight To Hell” and lyrically pays tribute to anyone forced to hustle for a living on society’s margins. It appeared in the trailer for the stoner comedy Pineapple Express and, more appropriately, was featured prominently in Danny Boyle’s wonderful Slumdog Millionaire, a song for which it could have been specifically composed. The remix by DFA is also one of the year’s finest retools. And speaking of prominent sampling…
“Make The Road By Walking” by Menahan Street Band: You’d be forgiven for assuming, on first listen, that Jay Z’s track “Roc Boys” was built on a sultry funk sample uncovered in a dusty delete bin. In fact, the original track is a contemporary recording by Menahan, a kind of neo-funk supergroup including members of Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings, El Michaels Affair, Antibalas and the Budos Band. They made a swell opening act for Jones, too. Speaking of unheralded supporting players…
“61 Clay” by Ron Nagle: Among the middling folk-rock collected on Sing Me A Rainbow: A Trident Anthology 1965-1967, which celebrates the west coast label best known for We Five’s hit version of Ian & Sylvia’s “You Were On My Mind”, is this blast of garage-rock madness. Performed by the mastermind of Trident’s second-tier act the Mystery Trend, it’s a minute-and-a-half of unhinged, fuzzed-up ranting (and with no less than Ry Cooder on electric bottleneck guitar). All the more amazing because, according to the liner notes, it was intended to be a phone message promoting a ceramics show. Speaking of amazing artifacts…
“Reelin’ And Rockin’ (Takes 7 & 8) by Chuck Berry: The couple of takes captured on Johnny B. Goode: His Complete 50s Chess Recordings are fine, but I love this more for the dressing-down Berry gives his band: “I came in on time…you don’t believe it, we can play it back! I bet you five dollars I’m on time!” To quote the late, great Sam Phillips: “That’s a pop song, nearly ’bout!” Speaking of pop songs…
“Kids” by MGMT: I could pick “Time To Pretend” or “Electric Feel” it’s a three-way tie for the best pop song of the year, and they all come from Oracular Spectacular, the best pop album of 2008. The remix by Soulwax was a treat, too. And speaking of Soulwax…
“Push It Like A Dog” by Soulwax: This thrilling mixture of Salt N Pepa’s immortal early rap hit “Push It” with the Stooges’ “I Wanna Be Your Dog” has for a number of years circulated on the internet and on mixtapes by the remixers David and Stephen Dewaele known by many aliases, including 2 Many DJs and Soulwax (which also happens to be a rock band…it’s complicated). Mash-ups of this kind seemed to ebb in 2008, but mercifully someone compiled fourteen of the Dewaeles’ best in sterling sound quality this year on a set called The Mash-Up Machine, with a cover that bites Kraftwerk’s Die Mensch-Machine. Soulwax has just released a pummeling tour documentary titled Part Of The Weekend Never Dies. Speaking of tour docs about Francophone DJs…
Justice: A Cross The Universe: Who would have guessed? A pair of wan Frenchmen dressed in castoff Motorhead stage gear bob their heads behind a big wall of fake Marshall stacks to some pneumatic dance beats on a cross-continent tour and…it’s Beatlemania all over again? That’s the impression created by this grungy, mostly offstage documentary, which purports to tag along with the duo as they perform to adoring sweaty mobs, shag groupies, drink excessively, shop for guns and if we are to believe the climax isn’t staged fend off a crazed fan with a broken bottle and, as soon as they complete the gig, get promptly arrested. In 2008, that’s entertainment. As for entertainment from another era…
“Communication Breakdown” by Roy Orbison: The box set The Soul Of Rock And Roll did what retrospectives should do: get beyond the familiar material and draw attention to worthy but lesser-known stuff. Across these four discs, there’s a convincing case that Orbison’s catalogue holds many other delights that could have, should have, been hits. And speaking of songs called “Communication Breakdown”…
“Good Times, Bad Times/Communication Breakdown (Paris l’Olympia 1969)” by Led Zeppelin: I’m with the crowd that defied the hopes and dreams of Led Zep fans and believed Robert Plant made the right decision to forgo the bigger glory so he could tour with Allison Krauss. This opening salvo from a recently rediscovered broadcast recording (bootlegged under a variety of names), recorded almost 40 years ago, goes off like TNT. No other band, before or since, played this explosively. I include it as proof that Plant was right not to compete with his own history. Who would ever want to try to live up to this standard? And speaking of setting your own high standards…
“Pissing In A River (live at Austin City Limits festival)” by Nicole Atkins: I listed Atkins’ 2007 release Neptune City as one of last year’s very best, and time hasn’t diminished that affection. As Atkins preps for a follow-up, she put out a fine all-covers EP this year. But my favorite cover of hers was this dramatic version of Patti Smith’s song. (A 2007 performance in Copenhagen is here.) If she keeps at it at this pace, 2009 could be, should be, her year.
“Guns Of Brixton (live at Shea Stadium)” by the Clash: When the Clash opened for the Who on this tour, I remember thinking they were already a spent force, two albums on from the epochal London Calling. I guess this recording proves I was wrong. They were on fire and still had plenty to offer before they flamed out. And speaking of “Guns of”…
“Guns Of Brooklyn” by Santogold (from Top Ranking mix CD): Santogold’s debut proper straddled some weird ground between primal rap and ’70s new wave, which not surprisingly deposits the results in the vicinity of the Clash’s Sandinista! So when it came time for a remix CD, it makes sense that she borrowed from the Clash in this dubbed-up tribute to the BK. From a stellar mix CD conjured by mixmaster Diplo. And speaking of Diplo…
“California Soul (Diplo Mix)” by Marlena Shaw: Detractors of DJ culture as somehow anti-musical miss an important point. It requires a deep love for some forgotten music, and however forward-thinking and modern DJ culture might seem, the best of it is steeped in appreciation of music history. In this track from Verve Remixed Vol. 4, Diplo doesn’t turn Shaw’s soul nugget into a big-beat stomper. He teases out the melody and portions out the original’s knee-buckling break beat, elongating the languor of the original’s love for west coast funk. It’s not a demolition of the original (which, despite covers by Marvin Gaye and Tammy Tyrell and the Fifth Dimension, remains the default rendition), but it is an extensive and tasteful renovation.
The Night James Brown Saved Boston: Although muzzy bootleg copies of this documentary have circulated for years, this definitive issue of Brown’s volcanic 1968 Beantown performance, undertaken in the ominous shadow of MLK’s assassination, puts it in proper perspective. Too bad this kind of credit didn’t come during the Godfather’s lifetime. Speaking of overdue acclaim…
“Hate Street Dialogue” by Rodriguez: Some records defy easy categorization, and that’s certainly true of Rodriguez’s Cold Fact, an outstanding artifact unearthed by the exemplary reissue label Light In The Attic. If Dylan jammed with Sly Stone in 1968, it might have sounded something like this. Speaking of hard-to-define artists…
“Bright And Shining” by Koushik: This enigmatic crate-digger and music-maker’s vision embraces butt-shaking rhythms, psychedelic treatments and blasts of sunshine pop (as evidenced by his Stones Throw label release Out My Window). He’s also one of the most intriguing DJs to see and hear in action. This is adventurous, visionary music. And now for something completely different…
“Islands In The Stream” by Constantines & Feist: The Constantines are an explosive live act, but here they team up with indie’s It Girl (and neo Sesame Street icon) Feist for a rendition of the Kenny Rogers/Dolly Parton schmaltz fest, delivered in such hushed fashion that they sound like they’re afraid to wake the kids. And, finally, looking ahead to 2009…
Natural Wonder by Wendy Bird: Dont bother searching for this one on Amazon.com just yet; this is something to anticipate in the coming year, assuming some astute label snaps it up. Gifted Vancouver singer Wendy Bird prepared this set of songs either written or co-written by Canadian singer-songwriter Jeffrey Hatcher, best known as a member of the Blue Shadows alongside the late Billy Cowsill. Bird, blessed with a resonant, confident voice, recorded these sides in just a couple of days, yet the results sound anything but hurried and harried. Its a lush countrypolitan gem, and it features a rare guitar-solo guest spot from Elvis Costello. (Also be on the lookout this spring for my extended profile of Hatcher in the next No Depression bookazine.)