Life & Depth

It's fair to say that the pages of Burning Wood aren't always kind to new artists. I try occasionally to get "with it," but the fact remains, I am rarely impressed with what is it out there. I don't feel any pressure to like what has been hyped. I do try, though.  I go in fresh and excited, but I usually come out nonplussed.

"Really? 4 STARS?"

Recent suggestions have been new records from Tame Impala & King Tuff, both of which sound like records with half-baked ideas, but lack depth and ultimately go nowhere, at least to these ears. I enjoyed both of these records until I didn't. I made it through almost all of Tame Impala, but gave up when King Tuff got under my skin about 4 songs in.

On the other hand, I've just discovered how wonderful Andy Fairweather Low's early records are, thanks to a suggestion by our friend BuzzBabyJesus. Yeah, "Spider Jiving" and "Le Booga Rooga"  are 30 years old, but they are new to me and both are solid displays of that loose and ramshackle style of rock and roll, when bands didn't take themselves too seriously and still managed to make serious music.

It starts with the song. Somewhere underneath the bells and whistles, low or hi fi, there has to be something to sink my teeth into. Unless of course, you have a whole package. The Ramones, immediately come to mind. Not exactly Rodgers & Hart, but man how it all worked!



So...that being said...

SUGGESTIONS FOR THE BEST NEWISH BAND

or, in the case of Andy Fairweather Low

SOMEONE YOU'VE BEEN LISTENING TO FOR YEARS THAT HAS REMAINED UNDER THE RADAR

David Bowie, Or How I Need To Be Careful What I Wish For

I have been thinking about David Bowie's latest stretch of inactivity, which is going on for about 7 years now. I am a fan, and at times have been fanatical, especially when defending his output since 1995, which I think is criminally underrated. I keep hoping I hear something other than the occasional Bowie "sighting" on the streets of New York, which is starting to become on par with the Yeti. I really do need some new music, and at least some positive news regarding his health, as this hiatus began soon after his heart attack and subsequent surgery.

I also never not think of my pal Steve Simels when thinking of David Bowie. For you regular readers of Steve's indispensible blog Power Pop, you will be familiar with his somewhat legendary disdain for The Thin White Duke.

So I had an idea.

Wanting to start a discussion about Bowie, with positive points being made about his ever-changing styles and fantastic records other than "Ziggy Stardust," I thought it'd be great to have a point/counterpoint intro, with me showing the love and Simels vehemently disagreeing, setting the stage for more thoughts and dialogue.

I asked and I received this, a gift from Steve, whose following words are just too marvelous.

Before you continue, I want to stress, I sincerely love what he wrote, even if I disagree with a lot of it. I've removed nothing.


Sal -- I should preface this by saying I've mellowed on the subject of the Thin White Duke, to the point I will even admit that there are occasional Bowie songs == Heroes, Golden Years, Rebel Rebel -- that, should they come on my radio unbidden, I wouldn't change the station. In any case, most of these opinions were formed during his 70s heyday; I was a self-righteous twenty something at the time, so such opinions were justifiable. Today, of course, less so.

That said here's a list.

1. The early records (post the Lower Third, but pre-Ziggy)

Impossible to distinguish from the work of noted rocker Anthony Newley, and if I wanted to listen to Anthony Newley, which I never have, I would listen to the real thing, not Bowie's thin gruel.

2. Ziggy Stardust

Or as we call it at Casa Simels -- "Flash Gordon and the Gay Guys From Outer Space." Possibly the most asinine concept in the history of rock concept albums, and with one or two exceptions -- possibly "Hang on to Yourself" and "Suffragette City" -- the songwriting is absymal.

3. The singing

If Bowie isn't the least soulful vocalist ever, I don't know who is; worse, that pre-rock crooning style of his has provided the template for generations of unlistenable singers on both side of the pond.

4. Pinups

One of the three worst covers albums ever made. The other two, of course are Bryan Ferry's "These Foolish Things" and

Duran Duran's 1995 Thank You.

The former, I think, is an utterly appaling concept record in which Ferry, nitwit that he is, advances the concept that Bob Dylan's "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall" has something in common artistically with Lesley Gore's "It's My Party" other than the fact that both were originally recorded by sentient mammals.

The latter, on the other hand, is merely a sloppy mess in which one of the world's most useless bands pays tribute to its non-roots and tries, unsuccessfully, to convince the world that Simon Le Bon has any business performing a Public Enemy song.

Pin Ups, however, I think is exponentially worse. At the time it came out, somebody who hadn't yet heard it (Lester Bangs, actually, who quoted me without attribution in his subsequent review) asked what it sounded like and I replied "Like twelve versions of 'Let's Spend the Night Together' on Aladdin Sane." (At the time, of course, Bowie's "Let's Spend the Night Together" was generally conceded to be the single lamest version of a Stones song evah).

What I would have added, time permitting, is that the entire attitude that Pin Ups exudes (reeks of, might be a more accurate phrase) is a Look at Me I'm Wonderful contempt for the material. The album, IMHO, is the work of a guy who's convinced that these silly little songs and the people who recorded them are ever so trivial and ridiculous, so thank god that he -- The Greatest Star -- is deigning to give them a little undeserved, reflected, acclaim in his trademark bullshit campy ironic way.

Not to mention that the singing is flatout awful; the affectless, emotionless, pretentious pseudo-operatic bleating Bowie subjects the songs to is light years removed from the punkish snarl and passion that most of them (with the possible exception of The Mersey's "Sorrow") require.

Have I mentioned that I hate the goddamn album?

5. Young Americans and the fake soul period

Unlistenable on every level, and "Do you remember President Nixon" is so bogus and stupid I don't even know where to begin.


Ahem....

Soooo.....

It was "Aladdin Sane" and not "Ziggy Stardust" that first introduced me to David Bowie, and being a kid and a Rolling Stones fan, I went right for Side Two, Track Three. I was blown away. I heard punk rock even though it hadn't existed yet. I heard "Let's Spend The Night Together" like I had never heard it before. Fresh and exciting and insane and with great playing on top of it all. I still love it and I still don't understand the "lamest version of a Stones song evah" moniker.

I also love "Pin Ups," and I don't feel any of the words Steve used above to describe it. Bowie had been and still is friends with Ray Davies, Pete Townshend and David Gilmour, just some of the artists covered on "Pin Ups," so the feeling that Bowie regarded these songs and their creators as silly seems wrong. Are any of the covers on "Pin Ups" better than the originals? Maybe "Sorrow," but otherwise, no. But on its own, Bowie's collection is again fresh, if a bit bombastic.

Steve and I do agree to some extent on Bowie's soulless crooning, though I am obviously more forgiving. It's just one of his styles, just as Dylan had his "Nashville Skyline" voice and Ray Davies his "Arthur" voice. Bowie's crooning can be wonderfully affective, especially on his masterwork "Station To Station," which I am hoping is not included as part of the "fake soul period" Steve mentioned.

I've always thought Bowie was one step ahead of the game, even through the nadir of his existence, from 1984-1990. That period of releases, though mostly dreck, still had moments of originality. It saddens me to think that after such a fantastic string of releases starting with 1993's "Black Tie, White Noise" through what I feel his one of his very best pieces of work 2002's "Heathen," David Bowie has possibly hung it all up for good.


If I had to pick 5 --

1. Station To Station
2. Hunky Dory
3. Low
4. Aladdin Sane
5. Heathen

If I had to pick 5 more...

6. The Man Who Sold The World
7. Ziggy Stardust
8. Diamond Dogs
9. Black Tie, White Noise
10.Heroes

Clever Covers

Ah yes. The cover version. The world loves a cover version.

As much fun as they are, it is a rare occasion when the cover is superior to the original.  One example of that rarity is Deep Purple's cover of Joe South's "Hush."






What I am interested in is not necessarily a cover version that is superior to the original, though you are all welcome to suggest your favorites. I am looking for examples of a fresh take on an old song. Frank Lee Sprague's mash-up of Bad Company and James & Bobby Purify, which is featured over at Burning Wood, is knocking me out. It's brilliant. It isn't faithful. It's exciting. And most important, it isn't some phoned-in, acoustic, shoe-gazing, ironic twist of a song.


The first time I heard John Wesley Harding's acoustic reading of Madonna's mega dance hit, "Like A Prayer," I was gobsmacked. That practice got old very quickly, as it seemed everyone was slowing down and sweetening hard rock and heavy metal tunes. Big whoop!

I want something clever.

The Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame & The Inevitable Yearly Debate

It's that time of year again, when the great debates on the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame begin. These debates aren't always about who should or should not be inducted. Sometimes the talk is just plain trash. Not everyone, including some musicians, cares about this building or what it represents.

For our purposes here, I'd like to focus on this year's nominees.

Here they are:

Of the 15 nominees, who does not belong?

The three that jump out at me on first glance would be Heart, N.W.A., and Paul Butterfield Blues Band.

I've loved Heart since day one. The great powerhouse that is Ann Wilson remains one of the best voices in rock and roll. But there needs to be something more than just the novelty of being a successful band fronted by sisters. Early records sounded like Led Zeppelin and the later, more successful records were badly produced, rock-radio schlock. Since then, not much. They haven't really had a hit in 22 years.

While I hope Public Enemy gets in on their first try, I just don't see N.W.A. as a worthy addition. I won't take away the fact that they pioneered gangsta rap, but there needs to be a bit more substance and not just controversy. Public Enemy has depth. N.W.A.? Well, I'm not feeling it. 3 officially released records is just not enough.

I'll admit I've never been a fan of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, and that has a lot to do with my skepticism regarding their nomination. And again, just not enough music there. Are two "classic" records enough?


Of the remaining dozen, I'm only really on the fence about The Marvelettes. Great music, as always, from Motown, but unlike The Temps or the Four Tops, or The Supremes, or Marvin, The Marvelettes lack the star power, and quite frankly the amount of hits.

Who am I most happy about?

The Meters and Deep Purple, the latter getting a push over on Burning Wood.

Thoughts?

Discussion?

The Poisoned Well: Your Most Disappointing Favorite Artist

I saw Prince play live for the first time in 1981 at a small club in NYC called The Ritz. It was soon after I discovered what is still my favorite of his records, "Dirty Mind," and only a short time before I saw him again at Radio City Music Hall touring behind his first real success, 1983's "1999."
Then came "Purple Rain," and the rest, as they say, is history.

Between 1984 and 1997, Prince Rogers Nelson became a personal obsession. Some of it had to do with the quality and diversity of his output, obviously. During that time, Prince was convincingly covering genres from dirty funk, psychedelic pop, jazz fusion, heavy metal, electronica and rhythm and blues. But it was the bottomless pit of unreleased music that sealed the deal for me. It was an endless supply of more of the same, and so much of it was good. In many cases, it was better than what was commercially available.

I couldn't get enough.

Here was an artist, arguably the only artist, who could sing freely about sex, and somehow still please the masses. Prince held nothing back. He'd perform in a jockstrap and grind on a stage prop bed. He'd use words like motherf**ker and p*ssy liberally.  No one seemed to mind. We were captured by the sounds, the whole package probably. There was no time to be shocked or offended by a few nasty words.

Plus, this little motherf**ker could play the guitar.
 
But then, between 1989 and 1997, the road got a bit rocky.

Batman. Jehovah. The name change to a symbol. Larry Graham. A wedding. Lawsuits. Jehovah.

 There is still a wealth of fantastic music to be found during those years, and as a matter of fact, "Graffiti Bridge," "The Gold Experience" and "Emancipation" remain favorites, if a bit dated. But something happened inside the man that no jockstrap or James Brown groove could fix.

It began to fall apart.

The music Prince has released since 1999...the year, not the album... is some of the most tossed off and soulless music of not only his career, but in the history of music.

"New Power Soul"
"Rave Un2 The Joy Fantastic"
"The Rainbow Children" (THE RAINBOW CHILDREN!!)
"N.E.W.S"
"Musicology"
"3121"
"Planet Earth"
"LotusFlow3r"
"MPLSound"
"20Ten"

What the hell happened? That is one impressive line of crap.

Here's his new track.



Meh.

The streak of unlistenable Prince music has gone on for so long, it has made me less of a fan of all the music I had once loved.

The well has officially been poisoned.

So, all that said--

Who is the one artist who you once loved but now can no longer tolerate? The one artist who has poisoned your well.

I only ask that you follow one guideline.

This artist must be someone you've consistently given the benefit of the doubt. In other words, if you loved Joe Jackson's first three records and then were appalled by his forays into latin pop and jazz and haven't listened to a record since 1982's "Night & Day," Joe is not who I am looking for. It must be someone who you've welcomed into your musical life through thick and thin, and then finally woke up and smelled nothing but the thin. Someone you still listen to, though you know the bloom was off the rose many albums ago.