Phil Collins: In The Air Tonight
If Phil Collins had disappeared from the face of the earth at the end of 1981, this article would probably not be necessary. He would likely be remembered as a fine drummer who ably backed Peter Gabriel in Genesis, did a nice job succeeding Gabriel as a singer for a few solid albums, was an in-demand drummer for solo albums by other prog rockers, moonlighted in the fusion group Brand X and put out an excellent solo album, featuring one truly memorable track, featured above.
But Phil didn’t disappear, and after 1981, critical opinion of most of his work began to plummet in inverse proportion to his earnings, until he became sort of a punch line. And while it is hard to defend some of his more saccharine later efforts, on the whole, his entire body of work includes enough high points—including some after 1981—to support a claim for respect, not derision.
Collins joined Genesis in 1970, after the band had gone through a number of drummers. Unlike the other members of the band, who were from upper class families, Collins was a middle class kid, who had been a child actor and model (and an extra in A Hard Day’s Night.) After his first real band, Flaming Youth (in which he drummed, sang and played keyboards) broke up, Collins answered an ad, auditioned and joined Genesis, stabilizing the position as the band gained popularity. He quickly proved to be an excellent prog rock drummer, adept in both harder rocking styles and more atmospheric sounds, and able to handle unusual time signatures and patterns. I’ve previously written about “Supper’s Ready,” and you can go back and listen to it for Collins’ inventive drumming. Here’s a later song from the Gabriel era, “Cinema Show” that showcases his drumming (even if it is not quite as good as the Bill Bruford/Collins version from the Second’s Out album).
When Gabriel left, the band reportedly auditioned more than 400 wannabes before settling on Collins, and he proved to be a more than adequate replacement. Lacking Gabriel’s quirks and quirkiness, the Collins-fronted version of Genesis gradually simplified and poppified its sound until it reached massive popularity. Collins, however, was not the only one to “blame” for this change—his fellow band members, Mike Rutherford and Tony Banks also wrote the songs, and were completely on board with the turn toward the mainstream. It would not have been possible, though, without Collins’ pleasant vocals, but he didn’t stop being a top drummer. Here’s a post-Gabriel Genesis song that again features Collins’ superb drumming.
At the same time, Collins played (and occasionally sang) with the jazz-rock group Brand X, in which he displayed a slightly different side to his drumming. Here’s a clip of a bearded and hairy Collins being interviewed on English television in 1979 before joining Brand X for a live performance.
Collins also provided drums (and vocals) on Steve Hackett’s first solo album, played on former Yes guitarist Peter Banks’ early solo works, contributed drum parts to tracks on Brian Eno’s albums, including “Sky Saw” from the classic Another Green World, and played on Robert Fripp’s Exposure.
Then came the 1980s. Asked by Gabriel to play on his third (and arguably best) solo album (often referred to as Melt), Collins, abetted by producer Steve Lillywhite and engineer Hugh Padgham, used a booming drum effect, called the “gated drum” sound, which they may or may not have invented, on the song “Intruder.” It proved to be one of the defining sounds of 1980s rock. When Collins decided to record his first solo album, Face Value, he brought in Padgham as co-producer, and the gated drum sound was used to great effect in, particularly, “In the Air Tonight,” which still holds up as a great song. The rest of Face Value is also pretty good and quirky, and Collins makes good use of a horn section and some old school R&B arrangements.
Face Value was a critical and commercial success. Later in 1981, Genesis released probably its last good album, Abacab, which used both the gated drum sound and horns. And while there were the occasional good songs on later Genesis albums, and Collins solo albums, at this point, the dross began to outweigh the quality. Collins’ involvement with Brand X also ended at about this time, and, for all intents and purposes, Collins became a smooth pop musician, with most of the rough and interesting edges gone.
In an article in the New Musical Express a few years ago, prompted by Collins’ (now-rescinded) announcement of his retirement from music, titled “Is it Time We All Stopped Hating Phil Collins?” Tim Chester noted that while Collins is “responsible for some of the cheesiest music ever committed to acetate,” this "obscures some of his most genius contributions to music.”
So, go listen to the pre-1981 Collins (and the occasional bit of latter-day quality), and enjoy some excellent, interesting drumming, fine singing, and pretty good songwriting. And let the haters hate.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Buy! Anything. Other retailers are available
Accusations of April foolery around my last piece, within which I feinted off Chris de Burgh with damp praise. Heaven forfend! As if etc etc. By way of recompense let me now big up some true favourites of mine, the mighty Chumbawamba. Known best, clearly, for this , it is by no means the peak of their pedestal, although its classic quiet bit/shouty bit/chorus was always a recurrent theme in their repertoire, as this , from a decade before, demonstrates. This latter song had been part of the first time, of many, that I saw them, at the first Guildford festival, and I was converted in an instant of the trumpet's first parp, as much by the lively performance art of the show, as for the beats, choral harmonies and general who gives a demonstrated by all 8 of them.
They actually started life as the disparate inhabitants of a squat in the northen british city of Leeds. Ironically, despite or because of their strong political stance, they were from the start labelled as anarcho-punks. By the 1990s they had gouged out sufficient instrumental proficiency, which together with the absorbtion of techno and rave culture, gave then an unusual status, with glorious pop melodies hand by jowl with unisonic chanting, programming and some of the sweetest female singing outside a chamber choir. Add a who cares and liberal attitude to the use of sampling, and short snappy slogans, culled from and with diverse soundbites, used as quirky between song fodder, and you had their template. Their early recording history was scattered between various tiny indie labels, with cassette only product and records hastily withdrawn, for breach of copyright. 1994's Anarchy, with it's scarcely inviting cover of close up childbirth, was possibly the first breakthrough of sorts, and the first I bought, immediately after the show described earlier.
Time for another song, a 2nd one from Anarchy, being Homophobia, a strident condemnation of same. As well as the studio version, there was also a slightly different live version. See which you prefer.
Fast forward to 1997 and the Chumbas did the hitherto unthinkable and signed to a major label, EMI, taking no small amount of stick for this, perhaps having the last laugh as "Tubthumping became a massive world wide one hit wonder, with much of the profit being syphoned back to the agit-prop causes they had always supported. They had not finished, either, with controversy, with their infamous drenching of then british prime minister Tony Blairs deputy at a music awards jamboree, and suggesting their american fans could shoplift the LP if they couldn't afford it. 2 or 3 broadly similar LPs then appeared, with a gradual change becoming noticeable, and a conscious shift towards including traditional english folk motifs. Indeed, 2002s Readymades included songs built around the sampled voices of Dick Gaughan and Kate Rusby, amongst others, and archived material. See if you recognise where the guitar is lifted from.
In 2005 the band all but seemed to break up, or to, at least, stop, but within only a matter of months a small hardcore of the band was again heavily touring, this time as an all acoustic quartet, plus various others. For me this became my favourite incarnation, the old songs sitting perfectly in a now overtly folk setting, with folk clubs and folk festivals being their main stages. New songs aplenty poured forth also, taking full advantage of the consummate harmony vocals of their heavenly chorale, at odds, often with harsh lyrical barbs. My example here, maybe unwisely, is a cover Nonetheless, I'm hoping you will go seek out more, from my whirlwind taster. My recommendations would probably be WYSIWIG, from 2000, and A Singsong and a Scrap, from 5 years later. I would also direct you to an excellent (auto) bigraphical book, Footnote* by the everpresent Boff Whalley, guitar and choirboy vocals.
The acoustic band called it a day in 2102, closing down with this statement:
"We do, of course, reserve the right to re-emerge as Chumbawamba doing something else entirely (certainly not touring and putting out albums every 2 or 3 years). But frankly, that’s not very likely. Thirty years of being snotty, eclectic, funny, contrary and just plain weird. What a privilege, and what a good time we’ve had."
I for one look forward to that day, in the interim having to make do with this , paid for years in advance, in a duly delivered promise to release on the death of it's subject matter, Margaret Thatcher. Probably fair to say they hadn't been big fans...........
Monday, April 14, 2014
Zappa Play Zappa: Peaches En Regalia
[purchase FZ version]
She had that
Flamin' out along her head,
I mean her Mendocino bean-o
By where some bugs had made it red
She ruled the Toads
of the Short Forest
And every newt in Idaho
And every cricket who had chorused
By the bush in Buffalo
The Guess Who had two more big hits ,"Share the Land" (#10, 1970) and "Hand Me Down World" (#17, 1970). Then in 1971 they released The Best of the Guess Who ( containing a far out black light poster of the group!) and that's probably where most people stopped listening. It's definitely where most of the critics stopped paying attention.
Next to The Beach Boys output of the same period, no band deserves to have its albums re-appraised more than the Burton Cummings led Guess Who of the early 70's.
Consider "Albert Flasher", the single from So Long, Bannatyne , an album full of infectious tunes that made one Rolling Stone critic cite The Beatles Rubber Soul in a search of comparisons.
Next came one of the greatest live albums of all time, Live at the Paramount. This is the one that had Lester Bangs declare "The Guess Who is God!"
In his review, Bangs continues :
I saw the Guess Who do this version of “American Woman” live a year ago, and I have never been more offended by a concert. Just as he does on the record, Burton Cummings indulged himself in a long, extremely cranky rumination on Yankee Yin, in a sort of fallen-out Beat poetic style:
American beaver etc., etc., etc.
Wouldn’t you be offended by this Canuck creep coming down here taking all our money while running down our women? Sure you would! Until you realized, as I did, eventually, that that kind of stuff is exactly what makes the Guess Who great. They have absolutely no taste at all, they don’t even mind embarrassing everybody in the audience, they’re real punks without even working too hard at it.
At this point The Guess Who begin going through "revolving door syndrome" with Cummings the only constant. But he's on a roll.
For the follow-up , #10, he delivers "Glamour Boy", a tribute to the cross dressing antics of Bowie and Bolan ( "For $37,000 you can look like your sister tonight...). The band could still fill an auditorium but the album stalled at #155 in the charts
In 1975 Burton Cummings went solo and the group disbanded. But not before releasing a batch of Guess Who albums that deserve to be heard. Especially by fans of classic, catchy pop music and lyricists strange enough to write lines like "Well, have you ever seen a Madras monkey?/Have you seen an Orlon eel?"
Well, have you?
By the way Burton Cumming has been especially busy on Facebook these days, sharing tons of memories and pictures https://www.facebook.com/officialburtoncummings
Sunday, April 13, 2014
OK, bit of a high hurdle here. Who, many be be asking, necessitating in me biting down hard on my tongue, hissing out, you know, that Lady in Red song, between blood and teeth. I gather it got to number 3 in the US, as well as having a ghastly and lingering saccharine permanence in the UK. Anyhow, put that thought from your mind, if you can, and the tale of it being the song he sang to his daughters nanny. Before bedding her. Or something like that. I may have muddled some aspects of the detail, but he has developed a somewhat odious reputation on this side of the ocean. Apart from his legion of fans, to whom he is a straighter Barry Manilow. (I have to be very careful here, with Wiki telling me Mr DeB is a prodigious litigator against perceived slights.)
A Spaceman Came Travelling
This refers to a much more innocent time, when, newly married, I was compiling the first of many subsequent tapes, made to celebrate our first Christmas together. I was also a member of my local public library, which had the novelty of a record (that's vinyl!) section, the last centurys version of illegal downloading, and came across a Chris de Burgh compilation, from which I purloined my titular song*. And I won't hear a thing against it. I still think it stands up, both as a song and as part of the ""Was-God-an-Astronaut" school of divinity. The fact I was a hefty fan of Erich von Daniken in my teens may explain this lapse from likelihood.
So what of his later stuff? Largely unlistenable tosh, but I dare say other opinions are available.
*For the reassurances of this readership, not to say Mr DeB, for fear of seeming to promote such lawlessness, please be encouraged that I have now downloaded this song from the source quoted. Or have every good intention to.
Friday, April 11, 2014
World Party: Ship of Fools
The second Star Maker Machine theme was perversely, “My First,” and it was designed to have people post about the first 45, LP, cassette, CD and digital download they ever bought with their own money. After all these years, I can’t remember which was the first 45 or LP I used my own money for, and I have no recollection what my first download was, but for some reason, I do remember my first CD, World Party’s Private Revolution, which was released in 1987. I’m pretty sure that I didn’t even own a CD player at that point, but I knew that I was going to be getting one shortly. I saw it on sale, used, in a small record store on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and figured, why not—I knew it was good.
It was a big step for me. I had many, many records—more than is probably healthy, but I also saw that the music world was moving toward the digital, and I knew that I would be following. I’ve never been an audiophile, so I won’t weigh in on the “vinyl through a good system sounds better than CDs” debate, but I did appreciate that CDs didn’t scratch (as easily) as records.
World Party was really just a solo project from Karl Wallinger, who played most of the instruments (although a pre-fame Sinead O’Connor and Waterboy Anthony Thistlewaite contributed a little), and this album, his debut, had a nice pop feel to it, with clear Beatles/ELO and Prince influences. There also was a message of world improvement, and what can be bad about that? “Ship of Fools” was a minor hit in the U.S. and U.K. and a slightly bigger one in Australia. It took Wallinger a few years to release the more successful Goodbye Jumbo, and he spaced out 3 more albums, the last of which was released in 2000. Since then he has recovered from a brain aneurysm (!), worked on films and other musical projects, and toured.
After buying Private Revolution, and an actual CD player, my CD buying ramped up and my LP buying decreased. At some point, I started to replace LPs with CD’s often used from eBay. At a certain point, I stopped replacing the needle on my turntable, and following a renovation of our house, which eliminated the shelves where I had stored my albums, they have remained in boxes in my basement waiting, for, I don’t know what. Getting rid of them seems complicated, because I suspect that most of the collection is worthless for various reasons, and I know that I have a certain sentimental hesitancy to part with a collection that I spent time, money and effort amassing through my youth.
I now find myself buying more digital downloads than CDs, so that collection, which supplanted the vinyl, and is currently bursting out of its shelf space is growing much more slowly. (And the digital collection is pushing the limits of my iPod Classic).
Although as I mentioned, I cannot recall the first song I ever downloaded digitally, because I admittedly partook of the early smorgasbord of Napster and similar questionable services, I do know that the first song I downloaded from eMusic was a song called “AYSO” by #Poundsign#, a tune about the soccer organization to which I have devoted an incredible amount of time over the past nearly two decades, and which I continue to serve, even though my kids have long since stopped playing.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Click the pic above (or the link at the bottom/below) for the music
[Purchase song @ amazon: El Rayo X]
Monday, March 31, 2014
Blimey, fab historical bio below, enjoyed that. Me, too, I 'm a newbie of not even 12 months standing, tho' my anniversary must be coming up soon. I remember well what first attracted my attention, nearly three and a half years ago, and why. I had been tasked with researching a Christmas playlist, and, rather than the usual Now That's What I call Xmas fare from all the usual usual, or even just good old Phil Spector, I took the job way too seriously, spending hours and days, scouring the interweb, scooting from blog to blog, hoovering up tracks. Of course, the fact that you could, in those innocent days, download directly, was a distinct bonus, even if you had to delete responsibly after a research and review single listen. (Yeah, right) Christmas 2010 was a riot, tho' my family and guests were exhausted after 6 full days of continuous listening.(Did you know quite how many versions of Daddy, Please Don't Get Drunk This Christmas there are?). This was my first foray to this site, although I then had to plough back through as far as I could muster my strength for, whether Xmas or not, being ecumenically scruple free. (Took bloody ages, to say nothing of the blogs of the associated and kin, listed alongside, some of which continue, many of which don't. Somehow I feel some advertorial coming on coming on for Boy Howdy, nominally still in our band of sixsongs merry pranksters, tho' increasingly quiet, a dude who has introduced me to more music than perhaps anyone I can think of. Thanks, BH. Will we be seeing you at this party?)
So, 22/12/2010, Vince Guaraldi Trio. What more can I tell you? Precious little in fact. I don't even believe I
DLed, but the other song is accessible here. (With baited breath I found the original page and tried to DL from there, but the wretched mediafire blurb about why, blah, blah, blah came up on trying.) Is it a good song? I suppose it depends on your mindset. Rock and roll, it ain't, in lyric or melody, but I have increasingly become a sucker for Mrs Costello and her ilk, exemplary female crooning, with a sympatico piano. Humbug, say you? Fie on you. Christmas ain't Christmas unless it got cheese, preferably a good stilton. Even at the end of March.
I'm supposed to be digging deeper into the artist or the song, and, to be fair, I'm struggling. Anyone can look up wiki and I have little to add to their versions of the truth. So I'm instead going to return to my earlier mention of the drunken daddy. This song was written by a Bill Danoff and a Taffy Nivert , no, me neither, and seems to have first appeared on a John Denver 1975 xmas album, Farewell, Andromeda, and was also the 3rd of 3 singles therefrom, reaching 69 in both the popular music and the country chart. Here's his version, which fails to cut any mustard for me, being an entirely straight (faced) rendition. Better by far, IMHO, is this one, performed by Colin Meloy and his estimable Decemberists. At face value it is every bit as straitlaced, yet somehow has me imagining tongues firmly in cheeks, albeit with reverence. This band, from Portland, have been slowly cranking up a fanbase over 14 or so years, pulling the wool between diverse folky-country powerpop and ballads, with Mr Meloys marmite voice holding it together, often ably abetted by female guest voices, including Laura Veirs, Petra Haden and Sara Watkins, amongst others, not forgetting Gillian Welch. The setting is often staunchly traditional, with string and bellows evident as much as electricity.
I'm uncertain if they have featured before, but, maybe in 8 years time, when someone retrospectivises this day.
Buy it (Denver)
Buy it (Decemberists)
Until then, SMM, many happy returns. And thanks for having me!