Saturday, August 8, 2009

Long Songs: Mortal City


Dar Williams: Mortal City

[purchase]

This song took a while to grow on me; for years, I skipped past it, looking the harder, more upbeat tracks which have made Dar Williams a force to be reckoned with in the contemporary world of radio-ready folkpop.

But sit in a lonely chair, perhaps with your eyes closed, locked away from the hustle of multitasking, and really listen, and the song unfolds gloriously, revealing itself as a gorgeous piece of quiet, still short fiction, a girl in an ice storm finding her center in a frozen eternity. Dar's broken, breathy octaves were never more appropriate.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Long Songs: Longing for More Edition



The Poozies: Ma Plaid/ Freya Dances

[purchase]

Ma Plaid is a traditional Scottish tune which, as recorded by The Poozies, comes in at about six minutes. But the group placed it in a medley with an original instrumental, Freya Dances, which brings the whole thing in at 7:07. It is a tribute to Mary MacMaster, who wrote Freya Dances, that it serves as the perfect coda to Ma Plaid; I cannot imagine hearing the one without the other. MacMaster and Patsy Seddon were the harp duo Sileas before joining The Poozies, and this one sounds very much like a fuller arrangement of their work in that earlier group. Kate Rusby and Karen Tweed complete the lineup.

Ma Plaid, on its surface, appears to be nothing more than a love song to a man who has departed for distant shores, and who the narrator hopes will return to marry her. She keeps the plaid that he gave her to remember him by. But there may be more going on than that. She starts by singing, “this is not ma plaid”, and proceeds to describe her plaid for the rest of the song. But whose is the plaid at the beginning? It is possible that the object of her love may be Bonnie Prince Charlie. He led an unsuccessful uprising against the British rule of Scotland in 1745, and many apparent love songs from Scotland from that period are veiled references to a yearning for Scottish independence. The matter is not certain, but Ma Plaid may be one of these songs. In that case, the plaid at the beginning would represent British rule. Following the 1745 uprising, Bonnie Prince Charlie was exiled, which would account for the departure of the lover in the song to distant shores.

Joni Mitchell: Song for Sharon

[purchase]

Joni Mitchell began her exploration of jazz with the album Court and Spark, and continued with The Hissing of Summer Lawns. Hejira was the next step in the journey. On this album, Mitchell stripped down the arrangements. Most songs feature just guitar, bass, and drums. About half of the songs anticipate Mitchell’s future explorations, and these feature her first work with bassist Jaco Pastorius. The remaining songs either use no bass at all, or feature Max Bennett, who had been with Mitchell since Court and Spark. These songs represent a consolidation, as Mitchell sums up where she has been. Musically, Song For Sharon is one these “consolidation” songs. It breaks no new ground for her, but is a solid addition to her catalog.

The song comes in at just over 8 minutes, mostly because there are a lot of words. In this way, jazz freed up Mitchell; she could write the song without worrying about length, and say all that she had to say. I read the words this way: on a ride back to Manhattan on the Staten Island ferry, Mitchell’s character thinks of Sharon, a friend from childhood. Mitchell’s character imagines a letter to Sharon, and her thoughts ramble through her day, life in New York City, and how different their lives turned out. The whole thing is a verbal improvisation, more jazz than the music that accompanies it. I am not sure the letter ever gets sent, or even written.

Traffic: The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys

[purchase]

The whole concept of jam bands tickles me. In the 1960s, every band I cared about jammed. It was a badge of honor, and essential to what performing live was all about. When I started hearing about bands who would try to recreate the sound of their albums in concert, I found the idea offensive. I still do. But The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys is something else. This is the purest attempt I know of by a band with roots in the sixties to recreate their live sound in a studio recording. Here are all the solos and mood changes one would expect in a live performance. The whole thing threatens to fall apart in several places, but never does. The result is a breathtaking listening experience.

So what is the song about? Well. Jim Capaldi of Traffic was in Morocco with actor Michael J Pollard, working on a movie that wound up never getting made. I’ll let Capaldi explain further:

“Pollard and I would sit around writing lyrics all day, talking about Bob Dylan and the Band, thinking up ridiculous plots for the movie. Before I left Morocco, Pollard wrote in my book 'The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys.' For me, it summed him up. He had this tremendous rebel attitude. He walked around in his cowboy boots, his leather jacket. At the time he was a heavy little dude. It seemed to sum up all the people of that generation who were just rebels. The 'Low Spark,' for me, was the spirit, high-spirited. You know, standing on a street corner. The low rider. The 'Low Spark' meaning that strong undercurrent at the street level.”

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Long Songs : Diaraby


Ali Farka Touré & Ry Cooder : Diaraby

[purchase]

I first thought of posting the great Ethiopian singer Mahmoud Ahmed, but then to my surprise I realized that his song "Era Mèla Mèla" was less than 7 minutes long, so I'll save it for another theme. I first heard him on a great German compilation called Desert Blues, along with a lot of artists that became favorites of mine.

But there are other great long tracks on these two CDs, and of course, this famous Ali Farka Touré/Ry Cooder duet. Ali Farka, when this record came out, was hastily advertised by marketing executives as "the source" of the blues, while the Malian griot himself claimed that one of his masters was … John Lee Hooker. The perfect "round trip" influence between the old and the new world.

Anyway, this music makes me long for the dusty and red roads of Mali and Burkina Faso, where I made wonderful trips and made many friends in 1996 and 1999. Now I'm older, I have young kids, and cannot travel so far for the moment. But just looking at a picture or listening to such a song takes me back there for a while.

now the question is : will this post recieve more than the "0 comments" I usually get when posting something that is a little bit too "foreign" or non folk or rock ? (please consider that as a friendly teasing and an invitation to comments)

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Long Songs: Marquee Moon


Television: Marquee Moon

[purchase]

Well it seems like a lot of the SMMers are on summer vacation, so here's another one from the new guy.

Television sprung from the same mid-'70s CBGB's scene that gave us Blondie and the Ramones, but they weren't really punk or new wave. While their peers were putting out two- and three-minute bursts of pop energy, Television were stretching out, jamming with a purpose. The interplay between guitarists Richard Lloyd and Tom Verlaine was the draw, and that was never more fully realized than on the nearly 11-minute title track off their debut album from 1977.

I didn't discover Television until their 1992 reunion album. And while that's an okay album, it wasn't until I went back to their first album that I discovered what all the fuss was about. After getting past Verlaine's adenoidal vocals, hearing this song was a revelation.

Long Songs: Deacon Blues



Steely Dan: Deacon Blues

[purchase]

Steely Dan, in their heyday, made a habit of being sneaky. They would use all these jazz harmonies in their music, and get people who “hated jazz” to love it. The album Aja was their commercial peak, and the sneakiness was here in full measure, if you knew what you were hearing. But with Aja, Steely Dan managed another bit of sneakiness: they took a long song to #19 on the pop chart. I know that Roundabout by Yes had charted even higher a few years earlier, but that was a 3:27 radio edit. Does anyone know if Deacon Blues was the longest song ever to reach the top 20 up to that point?

Another thing about Deacon Blues: I grew up in a non-sports household. About fifteen years after the release of Aja, I finally found out the meaning of the line, “They call Alabama the Crimson Tide...” But I loved the song anyway. There was one other sneaky thing about Steely Dan. When I asked my older brother to explain some of their lyrics, he would smile in an evil way, and say, “you’ll understand when you’re older.” Now I am, and I finally do.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Long Songs: Future Games


Fleetwood Mac: Future Games

[purchase]

I was extremely happy to see Boyhowdy post the original Fleetwood Mac version of "Black Magic Woman" last week. I'm a big fan of the Peter Green-era Mac. In fact, I almost posted their full version of "Oh Well" this week.

But I also have a soft spot for the Mac's Bob Welch years, too. In some ways, they are the lost years, when the band was searching for a new identity. They were well past their blues beginnings and their acid-rock adolescence, but had yet to mature into the LA hit machine they became when Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham came on board.

They released a lot of mediocre albums during this period (1971-74), but they contain a clutch of unique, atmospheric Bob Welch songs. My favorite is the title track to their first album with Welch, "Future Games". It clocks in at over eight minutes, but it never overstays its welcome. I really have no idea what Bob's singing about; I just love the way it sounds, floating out of the speakers.

Long Songs: Matty Groves



Fairport Convention: Matty Groves

[purchase]

My first thought when I learned of this week’s theme was, “There must be one of those English folk songs with tons of verses that would work this week.” And, of course, there is.

There was a time when most people in England, particularly the lower classes, were illiterate. Songs like Matty Groves served the same role that tabloid newspapers do now. And the juicier the story, the more details people wanted. And in this case, details are what they got.

As songs like this worked their way into the body of traditional material, they tended to acquire verses from other songs. So it is impossible to say what actually happened here. Enjoying songs like this is like enjoying the beauty of a patchwork quilt. And this musical quilt is a particularly fine example of the form.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Long Songs: Weird Al Edition

Weird Al Yankovic: Albuquerque






[purchase]

Recently, Weird Al Yankovic has taken to ending each of his albums with ridiculously long songs that are possibly even more absurd than his usual fare. If you have a half-hour or so to spare, I'd like to share those songs with you here.

The trend began with "Albuquerque" from 1999's Running with Scissors. The song is basically one large tangential rant involving rabid weasels, hermaphrodites, Leonard Nimoy's butt, and a lucky snorkel. All of these things are mentioned only to drive home the point that Al hates sauerkraut.

Did I mention that these songs might be a bit absurd?

Al followed that exercise with "Genius in France" from 2003's Poodle Hat. This time Al pays tribute to the late Frank Zappa with a track that jumps around from style to style with tons of dynamic shifts to an intentionally unsettling effect. Frank's son Dweezil Zappa plays the guitar intro to the song.

Finally... from 2006's Straight Outta Lynnwood... comes "Trapped in the Drive-Thru." If you've ever seen any of R. Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet" videos, then this one needs no further explanation.

Kudos to any of you who can make it through all three of these.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Long Songs: Rose Rouge


St. Germain: Rose Rouge

[purchase]

My first trip to Amsterdam was as an adult, in March of 2000; my wife had just miscarried after several years of earnest attempts at bearing a first child, and although the doctor advised against flying, we really needed to get away from it all. I have fond if somewhat inevitably hazy memories of a week museum-hopping and roaming the castles and small rustic villages of the countryside, sitting by the side of canals eating bread, cheese, and salami -- about all we could afford on my teacher's salary.

But my strongest memories from that week are of St. Germain's Tourist, an album whose jazz-informed rhythms, jazz-club instrumentation, and long, trance-inducing tracks emanated from what seemed at the time like every coffeeshop and bar, providing the perfect atmospheric soundtrack to what otherwise could have fast become an insular and morose period in our lives. I bought the disc at overseas prices -- a comparative fortune, back then -- and have kept it with me ever since. Rose Rouge is one of the shorter pieces on the album, but it really blows away the blues, even now.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Black and White: White Room


Cream: White Room

[purchase]

I'm still in overwhelmed/numb/mourning/introspective mode... and this song certainly fits the bill - "lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves" indeed...

From last.fm:

After bassist Jack Bruce wrote the guitar pieces, Cream’s lyricist, poet Pete Brown, grouped colorful four-syllable phrases, loosely organized around images of waiting in an English railway station influenced by the drugs he was taking. “White Room” is further noted for its unusual time signature of 5/4 in the introduction and bridge, with triplets played on toms by Ginger Baker, his thunderous bass drum part also lacing the verses. Finally, “White Room” is notable for showcasing guitarist Eric Clapton’s best known use of the Vox Clyde McCoy Picture Wah (a device used to turn off bass and treble as the pedal is rocked) in the bridge and extended solo.

Along with “Sunshine of Your Love” and “Crossroads”, White Room is one of Cream’s most notable songs, reaching number 6 on the U.S. pop charts.


A most vivid memory of my childhood is when the History of Eric Clapton album came out in March 1972 (my senior year of high school) and, since I didn't yet have my driver's license (long story there), I pitched a total tantrum until my dad gave in and took me up to the mall where I could purchase it on the release date - I still have the 2-LP set... and every snap, crackle and pop is accounted for from endless rotations in the white room of my angst-ridden teen years (is that a redundancy?)...

P.S. In researching this album to post for the purchase link, I note that White Room isn't even on it - I'd have bet money that it was...

Black and White: Black Magic Woman


Fleetwood Mac: Black Magic Woman

[purchase]

As I noted in back in February over at the coverblog, most folks have no idea that Santana signature tune Black Magic Woman is a cover song. But the 1968 original, which peaked at #37 on the UK Singles chart, is worth celebrating, too, and it's nothing like the smooth radiopop which most modern listeners associate with the classic literock radio era of Fleetwood Mac.

Instead, prepare yourself for a perfectly smooth, slightly trippy sixties sound straight out of a Vietnam-era documentary soundtrack, guitar-driven and full of funky feeling, that falls somewhere between the best of Cream and the Zombies. Note the sparse high production, which allows the listener to experience each instrument distinctly. And don't forget to stick around for the blues coda.

Black and White: My White Bicycle



Tomorrow: My White Bicycle

[purchase]

In 1966 the Dutch countercultural group Provo came up with a radical idea of scattering bicycles throughout Amsterdam for city residents to use whenever they needed. To make them easy to identify (and to prevent people from keeping them), they were painted white.

Tomorrow's "My White Bicycle" was apparently inspired by that program, but given the year (1967) and the genre (psychedelic pop), I'm betting that the title of the song is also a sly reference to LSD inventor Albert Hofmann's famous bicycle ride home from work after becoming the first person to ingest the psychedelic drug in 1943.

Tomorrow give the song an appropriately dizzy production, with backwards instruments, droning bass, sound effects, heavy panning, etc.

At the time, they were seen as psychedelic innovators. But they only managed to release one album, and now they are a a rock history footnote, known mostly for guitarist Steve Howe, who went on to make his name as a member of progressive rock band Yes.

Friday, July 31, 2009

Black and White: White Thread


Breedlove: White Thread

[purchase: warning, collector's prices only!]

I discovered the shortlived Austin-based jamband Breedlove through this song, a freebie on a mid-nineties H.O.R.D.E. festival second stage sampler; turns out it's the lead track from their only album, so I suppose they never made much of a splash. Today, lead guitarist and songwriter David Dyer enjoys a solid solo career, albeit not one successful enough to merit a Wikipedia entry.

Still, despite its somewhat unpolished arrangement, White Thread has a certain je ne sais quoi, enough to live on in my summer "funky backyard jam" playlist no matter how many times I update the damn thing.

Black and White: The White Tent The Raft



Jane Siberry: The White Tent The Raft

[purchase]

So far this week, my fellow Star Makers and I have done a good job of covering the black part of our theme. The white songs that have appeared so far have been linked to black musical counterparts. But there are many fine songs with white titles, that are not linked to anything. The White Tent The Raft is one of these.

You could be forgiven for thinking that Jane Siberry’s songs are always straightforward and sweet, based on what I’ve posted of hers before. But I usually think of her songs as being rushes of surreal imagery, with shifting musical settings under the words. It’s like being woken suddenly from a dream. You are left with a jumble of pictures and feelings that almost make sense. There are repeating motifs, whose meaning is just beyond your grasp. You want to go back to sleep, and reenter the dream, in hopes that it will sort itself out. And every time I listen to Jane Siberry’s best songs, I have that sense of reentering a dream. The White Tent The Raft is a fine example of what I mean.

Black and white : Black girl


Leadbelly : Black Girl (Where Did You Sleep Last Night ?)



[
purchase]

Leadbelly is one of my personal heroes. He was a fantastic performer, and played these simple folk songs with a rare and infectious enthusiasm that is not so common nowadays.

The story of his life reads like a novel (one that I'd love to write), with murders, brothels, prisons, escapes, a pardon from a governor and finally the protection that the Lomax family provided him.

This country boy from Shreveport ended up playing for an audience of New York liberal intellectuals and scholars. Strange destiny.

How this ex-con and criminal spoke with a gentle and almost feminine voice in the interludes between his songs, and how he was said to be kind to children, has never ceased to surprise me.

This song, an adaptation of the folk number "In the Pines", is as dark and threatening as a night in the piney woods of West Louisiana and East Texas where Lead spent the beginning of his life.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Black and White: X Edition



X: Under The Big Black Sun

[purchase]

X: White Girl

[purchase]

I have to take advantage of this week's topic to feature one of my all-time favorite bands, X. Considering how good they are, I can't believe they aren't more popular and acclaimed. So it goes.

But don't take it from me. Listen to the tunes, man.

Black and White: 1952 Vincent Black Lightning



Richard Thompson: 1952 Vincent Black Lightning

[purchase]

We finally have a theme that allows me to post this.

There is, perhaps, no hoarier cliche in all of pop music than the tale of the “good” girl who falls for the “bad” boy on a motorcycle. The girl’s disapproving parents lurk in the background. And she is punished by the tragedy that ends these songs. Presumably, she learns her lesson. The classic example of this is Leader of the Pack. Here is teenaged angst, distilled for the edification of the masses.

But Richard Thompson takes this cliche and transforms it by the simple expedient of taking his characters seriously. These characters are a little older, and on their own, so the parents are not involved. So, the overblown emotions are gone, as is the morality tale. Instead, Thompson gives us a man and a woman who love their personal freedom. The romance of the story is real and heartfelt. James, the “bad boy”, has a noble spirit, and Thompson has us rooting for him. And, in Red Molly, James finds a worthy successor.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Black And White: Black And White



























Time to claim some bonus points again, while simultaneously showcasing this gorgeous powerpop song by the underrated dB´s. Which stands for decibels of course.

Black and white : The Graham Parker 1976 edition


Graham Parker and the Rumour : White Honey

[purchase]

Graham Parker and the Rumour : Black Honey

[purchase]

This is the second contribution by an Acclaimed music forum member.
So, thanks to Harold Wexler for his great idea. Harold also provided the following comment :

Parker put these songs with diametrically opposed titles on each of his first two albums (which were both released in 1976). "White Honey" is the exuberant, soul-tinged lead track on Howlin' Wind ("White honey, get it from the candy man/White honey-EE, any time I think I can"); "Black Honey" is a downbeat, mostly acoustic, gypsy-flavored ballad from Heat Treatment ("Oh, black honey's in my soul").

Black and White: Paint It Black



The Rolling Stones: Paint It Black

[purchase]

Grieving takes you through a range of emotions. The one that most people don’t like to talk about is rage. But, really, it makes sense. Why wouldn’t you be angry that a loved one was taken from you? Still, just as we do not speak of it, I do not know of many songs that describe the anger of loss. That could be because it’s such a difficult subject. Or it could be because The Rolling Stones nailed it more than forty years ago, and there’s just nothing more to say.