That question mark goes operative

There are three Mountain Goats shows here in SF next weekend, and they all sold out weeks ago. I haven't missed a Mountain Goats swing through town in a loooong time, and I've been thinking tonight about various strategies for showing up at the Sunday afternoon BBQ show and getting in. Leading plan so far involves bribing someone with vegan cupcakes. But in getting to that, I was thinking back to the last time I went over to a too-popular/too sold-out show at the same venue [Bottom Of The Hill] and stood in line until enough people left. Man Or Astro-Man? clone tour. In 1998 the band [MOAM?] sent not one, but three groups of stand-ins on tour, playing MOAM? sets, with some prerecorded dialogue bits explaining how the clones were remotely controlled by the actual band, blah blah further elaborating the sci-fi schtick. Arum can probably explain how this all got conceived (I can't), but whatever - Has there ever been a more brazen indie rock stunt? (Don't tell me) You've got three cover bands touring the country at the same time, handpicked by the actual band,and they're selling out shows while the actual band kicks back in their orbital platform and lights cigars with hundred dollar packets of astronaut ice cream candy. Supposedly clone group B was all female, and you'd think there would have been some Woman Or Astro-Woman? shirts, because why not, except to stick with the clone story. Chutzpah! Anyway, I was on a bus from Oregon to SF and I met these three German girls, and the most incredibly cute of them was so excited about the chance to see Man Or Astro-Man? the next night. Do I explain that it's not the real band she's crossing traveling paths with, and suck a little bit of magic out of her 2 days in SF? I do, because this is a ridiculous hoax, these are tourists on a budget, and I really thought Birdstuff was a better man. Astro-man. I'm smitten, I try to explain it sympathetically. But the whole clone concept doesn't translate at all. Her English is good, but not up to taking in improbable meta-schemes, and we all go to the show and stand in line and get in and she sits on the edge of the stage and loves it, and y'know, the clones are pretty good. I can't even remember if they did or didn't have a Tesla coil or if that was the show where Jello Biafra stepped up and sang improvised lyrics to "Destination Venus." It was a stunt, and I'm still impressed.
OK, if you can think of a comparable stunt, tell me.

State of the Union

In honor of G.W. Bush's final State opf the Union Address, please enjoy these songs.

President Gas, by The Psychedelic Furs

Here Comes President Kill Again, by XTC

The Changing Landscape of Music

My favourite musician, David Usher, recently posted this comment on his Facebook (yes, Facebook) page. On Christmas Day, he posted a free mp3 of his rendition of White Christmas. He has also posted songs in various stages of development (usually just a camcorder pointed at him while he tries out the song), then once finished, links these songs to iTunes for purchase. Times seem to be a-changing.

Anyway, here is the comment. I am most interested in what you have to say!

----------
what crazy possibilities the world gives us now. technological revolution, communications revolution, changes the way we can make art. changes who we are. that cycle of write, record, release still exists but so many of the old controls are gone. we get to explore this new space, the new world of music and art without the old walls. its like landing on the moon for the first time. are you going to stay in the ship because it feels safer, or go tearing around, exploring?
i think i like the moon…
----------

Cover Songs and Album Covers

Once upon a time, we had a brief volley of posts here waxing eloquent on our favorite cover songs. A week ro so ago, in passing, Arum mentioned he had further thoughts on the subject, but I'll beat him to the punch with this brief post to state my love of the previously mentioned cover of Townes Van Zandt by Robert Plant and Alison Krauss.

Here's Van Zandt's "Nothin'" as performed by Plant and Krauss.

And speaking of covers, here's a pretty genius collection of photos that brings both a literal and figuartive spin to the notion of "doing a cover." My faves are Jay-Z, Ted Nugent, and Johnny Mathis with a teddy bear.

Ike

You know the beginning of Proud Mary when Tina Turner is laying it down, just how it's going to be? Lord, I hate that musical moment. Maybe it's that the context gets lost as so many bar and wedding bands ape that intro when they do the song. There's a fair amount of that kind of grandstanding or pieces of the puzzle that just don't fit for me on a lot of Ike & Tina stuff (outside of Too Much Woman for a Hen Pecked Man, which I think is perfect).

Well, lately I've been listening to A Black Man's Soul, a collection of Ike Turner tracks collected from about 1969. It's a wonderful set of tunes, mostly instrumental, and has no nonsense in it for me.

What do I see in these recordings? Well, I love the way they're recorded. It's sloppily but well-documented, certainly not polished, the prominent horns with a real raw rip to them, and the drums existing in a space that's, well, perfect. You can hear the sound of the room in every beat (listen to the breaks in Funky Mule). There's occasional odd sounds coming in, too, not in a stoned out Funkadelic sort of way, but in a live way that reminds me of the Ex (listen to the clinkiness in Black Beauty).

This has been my driving music of late. It's been part of my daily life on and off for the past few weeks.

Funky Mule
Black Beauty

~Arum

Post-Holiday Music Post

I got my hands on a few records over the holidays that I've been enjoying, and I thought I'd share them with y'all. Many of these show up on a lot of critics "best of" lists that are so fashionable at the end of the year.

Jens Lekman / Night Falls over Kortedala
A few years ago, I opened a show for Jens Lekman, and wasn't terribly impressed with his stuff, though he was really nice guy. So when this album came out earlier this year, I didn't really pay it much mind. Then I started reading and hearing a number of positive reviews...finally, I broke down and bought the record. And I really like it. Jens Lekman is like the Swedish Morrissey. He croons, and his lyrics are often really funny in the way he sings with such earnestness about pedestrian moments.

For example, the song "Your Arms Around Me" opens with a celestial harp and violin line...very pretty, then come the drums and the guitar lick, all very earnest in a poppy love ballad kind of way. But the first lyric is "I was slicing up an avocado." It's the last lyric you would expect, and it totally works.

Another such moment is in the song "A Postcard to Nina." The song is about Jens Lekman posing as the boyfriend of his lesbian friend Nina to fool her father. He's got to get his story straight with what she's told her family, and he's having trouble: "Oh God, Jesus Christ! I try to focus on your eyes. We're having dinner with your family now, I keep a steady look at your left eyebrow. If it's raised it means yes, if it's not it means take a guess. Hey! You! Stop kicking my legs, I'm doing my best. Can you pass the figs?" I crack up every time he sings "Can you pass the figs."

Night Falls over Kortedala is a really fun and fresh pop record. Good arrangements, hummable melodies, and delightful and surprising lyrics that give you a sense of a real person singing the songs, some one you might like to hang out with, not an "important songwriter" with "important lyrics." And in the pedestrian moments, Lekman finds some authentic insights. Delightful is the bets word for this album. It is full of delights.

Robert Plant and Alison Krauss / Raising Sand

When I first heard about this record and mentioned it to some friends, they laughed and thought I was joking. But it's no joke. It's a terrific album, and the disconnect people seem to find in Plant and Krauss is really unfounded. Plant has always been a musical journeyman, venturing into different genres, playing with different musicians, and singing duets with beautifully voiced women. Perhaps you'll recall Sandy Denny's soaring vocal on "Battle of Evermore."

The first track I'd heard off the record was "Please Read the Letter" which was a track Plant and Jimmy Page recorded for their "Walking to Clarksdale" album. I think because I already knew the song form the lackluster Page/Plant effort, I wasn't that impressed with the Plant/Krauss version. Still, the glowing reviews kept piling up, and I really do love both Plant and Krauss, so I put it on my Christmas list and I'm glad I did. What a great album. And Plant/Krauss's version of "Please Read the Letter" has redeemed the song for me. It's wonderful.

T Bone Burnett produced it, and it bears his eerie mark, reminiscent of Lanois's production of Dylan on "Time Out of Mind" but more organic and warm. The ethereal production is the perfect compliment to Krauss's angelic voice, and Plant's superbly delicate delivery. Also in the mix is one of my favorite guitarists, Marc Ribot, who's distinctive style only adds to the otherworldly space the music creates. There are too many highlights to mention, but 2 songs that stand out for me as exemplary of the mood and sound of the record are "Polly Come Home" and "Nothin'".

Plant sings lead on both of these tracks, and for me, he is really the glue of the record. Krauss has an amazing voice, no doubt about it. And she can use it. But anyone who thinks Robert Plant is just the guy who said "push push yeah" a lot in Led Zeppelin hasn't heard what this guy can do. When he sings lead on this record, it's delicate, reserved and incredibly emotive, while still leaving room for Krauss. When Krauss sings lead, Plant shows his range in his absolutely essential, but often nearly imperceptible supporting vocals. He's an exeptional singer, and he shines on this album. And Plant and Krauss sing absolutely beautifully together on the full fledged duets.

Finally there's Tinariwen. I'm sort of short on time at the moment, but briefly: Tinariwen is a Tuareg band from Mali, and the music is trancey and hypnotic and totally intoxicating. Amazing from start to finish.

LISTEN!

Jens Lekman / A Postcard to Nina
Robert Plant and Alison Krauss / Polly Come Home
Tinariwen / Matadjem Yinmixan

The kid comes around

I heard Kid Dakota years ago. They sent in a press kit and demo to a label I worked at that dropped a lotta names (in a way that makes you think, my, they are trying hard), and a demo of some songs that were, well, good, but nothing that would make you want to take them home, dub, or listen to in shipping while working all day.

My neighbor Dan lent me their follow-up CD The West Is The Future well over a year ago. It's a perfect record. It's recorded well. It says something. The varied vocals and lyrics both work. It comes in a gorgeous package. There's great flow song to song. There's incredible musicianship -- the drumming itself is beyond human. The sounds of the instruments and the sounds in the background cast settings they're so perfect. I think I'd quit my day job to be in an outfit this good.

The fellah that sings could have done an acoustic bit with these numbers. The lyrics hold up on themselves, and the subject matter, or perhaps locale -- South Dakota and Minnesota -- kinda lends itself to acoustic music. But fleshed out in this magical way, the songs are so much better. And that's quite an achievement.

The lyrics have a tone as consistent as a literary work would, a collection of related short stories, perhaps by someone like Sherwood Anderson.

duck huntin', ice fishin', Paul Bunyan, pilgrim, the thought of ten thousand lakes, at the Prairie Bowl, winterkill, be a better man, high on the horizon, the west is a promise, they're blood-related, drums in the distance, and there's unrest, and now the minister has come, tumbleweed at breakneck speed, this here county, in spite of the airplanes, bless you my beauty, the west is an old lie, bless you my little one, howdy there, pilgrim.

I've had this CD in my life since 2004. It's one to own, to cherish. It's held up as high art. I finally found a copy in Chicago last weekend. I forgot how much I liked the art ("by Will Schaff" it says). It's one to reflect on, because it's saying something. It's one to take apart musically, because this drummer Christopher McGuire, is downright incredible and original in a way that you know that mentally he has to be ordered unlike most humans, but has found a way to use that to his advantage, because the drumming seems inhuman, beyond human, yet at the very same time not too too showy.

My favorite three tracks are:

Pilgrim
Pine Ridge
Atomic Pilgrim

Making a List, Checking it Twice, Gonna Find Out if It's Lame or Zeitgeist

Antelope
Caribou
Unicorns
Deerhoof
Deerhunter
Grizzly Bear
Panda Bear
Lucinda Black Bear
Minus the Bear
Fruit Bats
Bats and Mice
Danger Mouse
Mouse on Mars
Modest Mouse
White Mice
Mice Parade
Wolf Parade
Sea Wolf
Guitar Wolf
Organ Wolf
Wolfmother
We Are Wolves
Wolf Colonel
Wolf Eyes
Frog Eyes
Bird Names
Bird Show
Box of Baby Birds
Birds and Batteries
Pelican

And the band who just cut to the fucking chase:
Animal Collective

OK. I know I've missed a few, so let's make use of the old hive mind and expand a bit on this.

Is this a drinking game yet?

Ike Turner, Dead at 76

He hit me, and it felt like a kiss.

Here's the full AP piece:

Musician Ike Turner Dies at 76

By ELLIOT SPAGAT Associated Press Writer

Dec 12th, 2007 SAN DIEGO -- Ike Turner, whose role as one of rock's critical architects was overshadowed by his ogrelike image as the man who brutally abused former wife and icon Tina Turner, died Wednesday at his home in suburban San Diego. He was 76.

"He did pass away this morning" at his home in San Marcos, in northern San Diego County, said Scott M. Hanover of Thrill Entertainment Group, which managed Turner's musical career.
There was no immediate word on the cause of death, which was first reported by celebrity Web site TMZ.com.

Turner managed to rehabilitate his image somewhat in his later years, touring around the globe with his band the Kings of Rhythm and drawing critical acclaim for his work. He won a Grammy in 2007 in the traditional blues album category for "Risin' With the Blues."

But his image is forever identified as the drug-addicted, wife-abusing husband of Tina Turner. He was hauntingly portrayed by Laurence Fishburne in the movie "What's Love Got To Do With It," based on Tina Turner's autobiography.

In a 2001 interview with The Associated Press, Turner denied his ex-wife's claims of abuse and expressed frustration that he had been demonized in the media, adding that his historic role in rock's beginnings had been ignored.

"You can go ask Snoop Dogg or Eminem, you can ask the Rolling Stones or (Eric) Clapton, or you can ask anybody — anybody, they all know my contribution to music, but it hasn't been in print about what I've done or what I've contributed until now," he said.

Turner, a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, is credited by many rock historians with making the first rock 'n' roll record, "Rocket 88," in 1951. Produced by the legendary Sam Phillips, it was groundbreaking for its use of distorted electric guitar.

But as would be the case for most of his career, Turner, a prolific session guitarist and piano player, was not the star on the record — it was recorded with Turner's band but credited to singer Jackie Brenston.

And it would be another singer — a young woman named Anna Mae Bullock — who would bring Turner his greatest fame, and infamy.

Turner met the 18-year-old Bullock, whom he would later marry, in 1959 and quickly made the husky-voiced singer the lead singer of his group, refashioning her into the sexy Tina Turner. Her stage persona was highlighted by short skirts and stiletto heels that made her legs her most visible asset. But despite the glamorous image, she still sang with the grit and fervor of a rock singer with a twist of soul.

The pair would have two sons. They also produced a string of hits. The first, "A Fool In Love," was a top R&B song in 1959, and others followed, including "I Idolize You" and "It's Gonna Work Out Fine."

But over the years they're genre-defying sound would make them favorites on the rock 'n' roll scene, as they opened for acts like the Rolling Stones.

The densely layered hit "River Deep, Mountain High" was one of producer Phil Spector's proudest creations. A rousing version of "Proud Mary," a cover of the Creedence Clearwater Revival hit, became their signature song and won them a Grammy for best R&B vocal performance by a group.

Grizzly Bear

First of all, let me just say, I'm amused by the fact that we've got two posts of bands named after animals. Moving on...

In 1962 Phil Spector produced a song for the Crystals written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King. That song was "He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)." It seems Goffina nd King wrote the song as a kind of protest song after hearing a stroy from Little Eva about how her boyfriend's beating her was a sign of his love. Whoa.

At this point, you may know all of this because Brooklyn's Grizzly Bear has just released a cover of the song on their new EP, "Friend," and it seems everywhere I turn, I see a blog post about it, or hear it on a podcast. And with good reason. It's a creepy and powerful song, and Grizzly Bear's treatment is great. It might even be creepier than Spector's original recording of the Crystals. Have a listen and decide for yourself.

Grizzly Bear: He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)

The Crystals: He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)

Antelope Tourdates

We've mentioned the band Antelope in the blog a few times.

They just announced their tourdates behind their latest release Reflector.

I know. I got the listserv email. They're one of the few I subscribe to.

~Arum

Christmas ain't Christmas without Charlie Brown

Although the beginning of the Holiday season seems to begin ever earlier with each passing year, for me Thanksgiving still represents the true beginning of the season.

Growing up, it was on the Friday after Thanksgiving that my family would get in the car and go off in search of a Christmas tree. Living out east, in Boston, getting a tree meant driving for an hour or so to a tree farm to search out that perfect tree and cut it down ourselves, haul it back to the car, lash it to the roof, and drive home. It is one of my most cherished memories, and a tradition that I really do miss terribly.

As everyone knows, the day after Thanksgiving has now become a holiday in and of itself celebrating the almighty dollar and the peculiar American grotesque of a day of national consumption (and then for some of us, it's Buy Nothing Day, but then, given my bank account, many days are Buy Nothing Days). But all it takes to transport me back into the back seat of the family car, swimming in my oversized coat, my puffy mittens and moon boots, the bite of a cold New England November in the air, the delcious warmth of fresh, hot apple cider waiting at home to nurse me back from the cold...all it takes is Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Not only is this album a potent mnemonic for some of my most cherished memories of the season, but it is also just a fantastic record. Period.

Happy Holidays, everyone. Put this Vince Guaraldi on your iPod, seek a tree, put some apple cider on the stove and savor a few peaceful moments in an unpeaceful world.

Vince Guaraldi's A Charlie Brown Christmas just for you. Highlights for me are "My Little Drum" and the classic "Skating."

Voot Warnings

I have a Robbie Fulks T-shirt I found in Indiana at a thrift store near The Swan's parents' river cabin. It has a line drawing of a face and says COUNTRY IS NOT PRETTY. Well, if ever there was a Voot Warnings T-shirt in my drawer, I'd want it to say VOOT WARNINGS IS NOT UGLY. Because the fellah is about as ugly in drag as a man-woman can get, and yet he's so charming, likable, attractive for one's attention.

Voot Warnings played often in Riverwest in Milwaukee in the early 90's before I left for Chicago, usually at tiny bars, and he was already a bit crusty scene veteran. Voot's music has the punk spirit, but it's not punk. It's bar band. It's rock. I'm not sure. There's not much exceptional about the music or the song structures but Voot's character is so strong it carries & captivates.

When I think of Voot, I think of him as the master in his own context, a bar like the Uptowner in Milwaukee, small, wooden, beaten, friendly and intimate. You can take Couch Flambeau out of the scene they thrive in here and they're still great rock and still funny as hell. I'm not sure I'd go out of my way to see Voot play at a bigger club, and I don't think I've recommend ed his music to my friends often, if at all. But I cherish him as part of the Milwaukee I love.

In 1995 Voot Warnings released Platinum, and two of my favorite songs if his are on it, "One Hundred Pennies" (about taking the bus when you're broke) and "Jesus Christ Is My Wife" an old staple of his, written back in 1975. The lyrics still crack me up: "the virgin Mary gave birth to a fairy / he's so blonde he's golden / what do you do when your saviour's a lush / and he won't die for your sins? / ... Jesus Christ / is my wife"

His most famous song, which leads off Platinum, is Dance Motherfucker Dance (cowritten with Glen and John from Milwaukee's Plasticland). The Swan may remember me wanting to play that in Forty One Rivers as a cover -- until I read the liner notes and found out the Violent Femmes often covered it live, and eventually released it as a single in Australia. That tidbit might have let me down, but this paragraph written by Dave Luhrssen got my attention:

"Coming of age in Milwaukee in the years preceding punk rock, Warnings had few forums for his music. Instead of forming a band, he joined Barnum & Bailey Circus and toured the country as a prop boy. He was discharged from the US Navy after a short stint. He hitchhiked to the West Coast carrying only his acoustic guitar and a knapsack, and played his decidedly non-folky songs in Minneapolis and Seattle coffeehouses long before either town became known as a music city."

Platinum was produced by John Frankovic from Plasticland.

One Hundred Pennies
Jesus Christ Is My Wife

~Arum

Wire article on DRM-less music.

DRM-free music and where to buy it. Discussion, ratings, insights.

21 good albums that could have been great EPs

From the Onion, 21 good albums that could have been great EPs.

Great concept. I'd say most merely good albums could have been great EPs.

Graveyard Smash

I can admit it, The Monster Mash is seriously one of my favorite songs. Ever. Otherwise, it's been a pretty sad Halloween here in San Francisco.

"When Pigs Fly"

This is almost a perfect follow-up to that last post.

I must admit I find it really hard to read long blog entries or articles on the web without printing them out, but my friend Al sent me this post on DemonBaby about the death of the music industry and I think it's a frickin' awesome summation.

When Pigs Fly: The Death of Oink, the Birth of Dissent, and a Brief History of Record Industry Suicide.

A couple notes.

I never used Oink, but his description of it makes it indeed sound like an outstanding music distribution system.

He's pretty offbase when he starts to talk about newspapers, and I have first hand knowledge of that. The big newspaper chains are dinosaurs and just as manipulative as major labels, and they hardly have evolved quickly. They've resisted change to preserve the fat profit margin of their classifieds pages, when something like Craigslist points the way that Oink does for music. So ignore his paragraph on newspapers and he'll seem 15% smarter.

This paragraph? It made me smile widely:

"For the major labels, it's over. It's fucking over. You're going to burn to the fucking ground, and we're all going to dance around the fire. And it's your own fault. Surely, somewhere deep inside, you had to know this day was coming, right? Your very industry is founded on an unfair business model of owning art you didn't create in exchange for the services you provide. It's rigged so that you win every time - even if the artist does well, you do ten times better. It was able to exist because you controlled the distribution, but now that's back in the hands of the people, and you let the ball drop when you could have evolved."

~Arum
listening to "Supermarket Sweep" by Sol Seppy

"Vinyl May Be Final Nail in CD's Coffin"

Pretty smart article in Wired: "Vinyl May Be Final Nail in CD's Coffin"

If/when I start a band I'm not sure what I'll do about releasing material. I've thought about it a bit, and arrived at the conclusion that there's not much satisfaction in making CDs anymore.

I think I'll use a graphical flowchart based color-coded web page that meets Edward Tufte specs to create a visual tree representing song generation and song cycles, the passage of time, and how songs fit together.

I like the idea of then, almost in near-time retrospect, making an LP that's almost like a best of or a thematic collection, and benefiting from perspective.

~Arum
Listening to Bonnie Prince Billy 'God's Small Song'

Diamanda Galas

Long, long ago, in high school, I was record shopping and came across a cassette called “The Litanies of Satan and Wild Women With Steak Knives (A Homocidal Love Song for Solo Scream).” With a title like that, how could I NOT buy it? It was, of course, a record by Diamanda Galas.

For those who don’t know her, here’s a Wikipedia entry to get you up to speed.

After buying that one cassette, I was hooked. It was so strange and disturbing and fascinating. I continued collecting her albums, and with few exceptions, they are amazing pieces of work.

Recently a friend of mine reinstituted an old tradition of a Sunday “Listening Party” wherein a group of people gather to do some collective intentional listening. She asked me to bring a piece to share, and because I’d just happened to have pulled my collection of Diamanda Galas off the shelf for encoding, and was subsequently on a Diamanda kick (not to mention, it seemed seasonally relevent--Halloween is nearly upon us), I elected to bring a Diamanda piece called “Cris D’Aveugle.”

“Cris D’Aveugle” followed a Balinese gamelan piece called, "Hudjan Mas (Golden Rain)," and was itself followed by a Dock Boggs song (the title of which I can’t recall). In any case, it was an eclectic night, and really cool to sit down with a group of people, many who were strangers, and listen together.

Here’s three Diamanda Galas pieces from her Masque of the Red Death trilogy.

Cris D'Aveugle

Double-Barrel Prayer

Malediction

This Is Why Al Gore Invented The Internet

I can't tell you how much this video of Santana blows my mind. I know what you're thinking: Santana? He can't be serious. But yes. I am. This may rank in the top 5 most fantastic things I've ever seen. Ever.



And this Clapton video is almost just as incredible.



And finally, more amazing than all of the above, is this video of the Reunited Van Halen performing JUMP in Greensboro. Don't cheat yourself...watch the whole thing. trust me...it's worth it.



The thing about the Van Halen video above that is most satisfying is that it is almost indistinguishable from this: