The Unpredictable Todd Rundgren, Live At B.B. King's: 11/3/14

The point of these live "unpredictable" shows is that Todd Rundgren and the band, and presumably those in attendance "have no idea what's coming next," except that he does, and so do many of the fans in attendance. Okay, I guess that's not completely true.

After opening the show with a cover of Cheap Trick's "Hello There," the band fell right into "Hello It's Me." I didn't know that would happen. But for the next 100 minutes, it was business as usual. This is not necessarily a bad thing.

At the completion of "Hello It's Me," a terrific solid version with Todd's voice as strong as ever...always a concern for me...he offered this, "We are playing the show in reverse order. You're all free to leave now. We've played the hit." Particularly snarky last night, even for Todd, Rundgren and his band, Kasim Sulton, Jesse Gress and Prairie Prince, were as good as I needed them to be. Again, Rundgren's voice was a powerhouse, sounding as good as ever, and once that has been established, I can breathe more easily and just enjoy the show.

As for the show itself...is it "unpredictable" that "Love Of The Common Man" was played or is it "ironic" to play "Love Of The Common Man" at an "unpredictable" show? Either way, as much as I love this song, it needs to be retired, as does the bossa nova version of "I Saw The Light." On the other hand, full band versions of "Cliche" and "It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference" are a rare treat, especially when they are as solid as they were last night. Some rocking Utopia staples also made the set, but I won't spoil too much of the set, for the few who might be reading and planning on attending.

But here's what made me angry.

When I saw the first "unpredictable" shows in 2011 or 2012, it was a thrill to hear some oddball covers, like Clarence Carter's "Patches" or "96 Tears," by ? & The Mysterians. They were played straight, or at least as straight as Todd can be. Last night, it wasn't one or two covers, it was seven! And all of them were novelties. Johnny Preston's "Running Bear," "Muskrat Love" and the horrific "In The Year 2525." (My friend went nuts for "In The Year 2525." I was happy to see her enjoying herself. Me, not so much.) But it wasn't that the performances of these songs were bad. On the other hand, they were as solid as anything else in the set. But I get the impression that Rundgren was taking the piss out of both the songs and the audience. Does he really like "Muskrat Love?" From the way he broke down the lyrics and pointed out that the songwriter "picked the wrong rodent to write about," I think not.

I became angrier with each cover, thinking about those precious minutes that could have been devoted to some of the man's great, rarely played tunes.

That being said, there was enough bookending the comedy (?) to make the show worth the time. So if you're a long time fan, or a fan who has strayed, I suggest not missing these shows, if only to witness the man singing like it was 1973 all over again.

At Long Last, Love. (In Mono, Of Course)

For a long time it was the initial pressing of "Runt," Todd Rundgren's debut which inadvertently left the pressing plant in small numbers with 3 additional tracks. There was only one way to know if you had stumbled across this vinyl gem, and it wasn't by just looking at the cover or the label. You needed to remove the LP from its sleeve and count the bands on each side to notice that it didn't match the amount of songs listed. I found one in 1979 at my long lamented home away from home, Zig Zag Records on Avenue U and East 23rd Street in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. $18, I believe, which was a good deal of money to spend on a record back then.

Then it was a mono copy of Pink Floyd's "Piper At The Gates Of Dawn." After that, it was a mono copy of Simon & Garfunkel's "Bookends," which has a story attached to it that is so unbelievable and disheartening, it'd be worth sharing if the acquisition of said record hadn't put those ill feelings to bed...for the time being. (Maybe I can be coerced for a future post.) Most recently, it was the elusive and super rare U.K. mono pressing of the Stones' "Let It Bleed" and the mono U.K. pressing of "The Who Sell Out." Both originally came with posters. These days, I could only afford one poster. So if you see the one pictured, give me a shout.

As an obsessive/lunatic/collector, there will always be something. This week, it's the mono pressing of The Zombies' "Odessey & Oracle." This one won't be easy, but it's worth the hunt. The catch is a different animal altogether.




All these years of buying and selling and listening and I have never owned a Beatles' Butcher Cover, probably the most famous collectible of all. I can't even recall holding someone else's copy. Someday, maybe.

Is there one thing...an LP...a 45...a recording...that you obsess over?

What's the story?

Is it finallly in your possession? Was it worth it?  Are you still on the hunt?

I'd love to hear these stories and see if any are as bizarre and unpleasant as some of the craziness I've experienced, simply for that jewel. (In mono, of course.)

"We'll Fix It In The Mix."

So I have this thing about Tony Visconti producing David Bowie. As much as I love Bowie's last few albums, my feeling is that I would have loved them more had the production had a little less of everything, especially 2003's "Reality," which features some of Bowie's best material but is so in your face sonically, you barely have time to breathe. Drums, guitars, effects, reverb...all...too...MUCH!

Same with 2002's "Heathen," which I have gone on record saying is in my Top 5 Bowie records of all-time. Brilliant, but busy. Check out the demo of The Pixies cover "Cactus" from that record before Visconti got a hold of it. Subtle difference, but there is a difference and to my ears, it feels better, almost "Low" era.





The new Aaron Neville record is released tomorrow. It's a collection of the old rock and roll and doo-wop tunes Neville was raised on. This could have easily ended up a glossy mishap. Instead, thanks to the co-production of Don Was and Keith Richards, it is not. It's a killer. The producers nailed it.


Is there one record where the production has plagued you for years? It could be a record you almost love or one you wanted to love, but just can't because of the sound.

The 2013 Grammy Awards, Or What I'd Like To Call....

 

 

 

Please finish the blog title sentence.

It seems futile to attempt any rational discussion about the Grammy Awards. But I think that as passion-filled music lovers, it must also be difficult for us to ignore.

 

The ceremony is about a month away, and I will watch. I always do. It's irresponsible of me, I know. Like a guy with an ulcer who continues to put hot sauce on his eggs.

 

I'll kickstart this conversation. Take a look at the four categories and nominees below. As usual, I am dumbfounded. Not necessarily in a "this music stinks" way. More in a "are academy members listening to anything other than pop music" way.  And by the way, Best New Artist nominee Fun has been around since 2008. Not so new.

 

I was a member for 8 years and voted. The opportunity exists for members to vote for almost all of those artists you always feel deserve to win over those that actually do.  Musicians you love and respect are included on the preliminary ballots. It's not as if there isn't a fighting chance. So how is it that never happens? How is it "Call Me Maybe" gets nominated for Best Song over anything off of the last John Hiatt record? This is more of a scam than the RRHOF.

 

There is no ultimate goal here. I am just offering you a space to vent.

 

 

 

 

Record Of The Year

• Lonely Boy - The Black Keys
• Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You) - Kelly Clarkson
• We Are Young - Fun. featuring Janelle Monáe
• Somebody That I Used to Know - Gotye Featuring Kimbra
• Thinkin Bout You - Frank Ocean
• We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - Taylor Swift

Album Of The Year

• El Camino - The Black Keys
• Some Nights - Fun.
• Babel - Mumford & Sons
• Channel Orange - Frank Ocean
• Blunderbuss - Jack White

Song Of The Year

• The A Team - Ed Sheeran, songwriter (Ed Sheeran)
• Adorn - Miguel Pimentel, songwriter (Miguel)
• Call Me Maybe - Tavish Crowe, Carly Rae Jepsen & Josh Ramsay, songwriters (Carly Rae Jepsen)
• Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You) - Jörgen Elofsson, David Gamson, Greg Kurstin & Ali Tamposi, songwriters (Kelly Clarkson)
• We Are Young - Jack Antonoff, Jeff Bhasker, Andrew Dost & Nate Ruess, songwriters (Fun. featuring Janelle Monáe)

Best New Artist

• Alabama Shakes
• Fun.
• Hunter Hayes
• The Lumineers
• Frank Ocean

Tracy's Face

One of my very favorite scenes in just about any movie comes at the end of Woody Allen's "Manhattan."  I'm sure you've seen it, but take a look anyway.






Prior to that scene, I had never heard "Potato Head Blues." So for that alone, I am grateful.

I don't know what it is about lists that we all find so fascinating. Top Tens. Best This. Worst That. They are obviously fun to compile. (And probably less fun to read.) But this list, Woody Allen's reasons why life is worth living is particularly wonderful, especially in the context of the film. It's just the right length, though I wouldn't have minded hearing a few more



I'm going to limit my choices to music and film, but if you'd like to share something else, you are welcome to. God knows I could do this all day and I just might continue to add as the week goes on.


Maybe we can all discover something.




The scene in "Rear Window" when Raymond Burr catches on to Grace Kelly, specifically what occurs below from 2:46 - 2:53.








Buddy Rich's drum solo in the "West Side Story" medley from Sinatra's "Concert For The Americas."










Todd Rundgren's "The Verb To Love."








The coda from "Layla."







Every second of Peter Lorre's screen time in "Casablanca."

(Sorry, couldn't find a clip.)






There...I've started it.

Musical Hopes & Fantasies For 2013

Billy Gibbons pre-ZZ Top psych band the Moving Sidewalks will be performing a handful of live dates next year. This excites me and it's something that I know I discussed over drinks about ten years ago. "You know, I'd love to see a Moving Sidewalks reunion." "Yeah, that'll never happen," one friend was quick to point out. And neither will a reunion of all four Young Rascals, right?

If I had my druthers:

A new David Bowie record will be released and it will not be produced by Tony Visconti.

Live music will become age appropriate. When Wilco comes to town, they play a seated venue with a proper start time and not some outdoor GA cornfield on a rainy day with a $60 rain or shine ducat. When Ty Segall performs, he can jam as many 20 year olds into a tiny club and hit the stage at 11:45 on a Tuesday, if he feels like it. And while we're at it, if Bruce Springsteen can keep his ticket prices under a $100, so can every one else. And while we're at it, I love you John Hiatt and Joan Osborne, but you guys are not $85 a ticket acts. Sorry guys.

The trend of artists performing full albums in concert will continue, but not at the expense of abandoning the rest of the back catalogue. Mix it up for the fans. Think about the fans. Learn your songs for the fans. 

The cost of new vinyl will drop to something a tad less odious than $26 a record.

Jazz artists will start swingin' again.  If I wanted to hear a piano trio cover Nirvana and Radiohead, I'd...well...nothing. I don't.


Todd Rundgren and Daryl Hall will turn their two brilliant episodes of "Live From Daryl House" into a record and tour.

Music journalists and critics will pull back on the hype reins just a bit and start telling like it is. Maybe a few less new Dylans and new Beatles in 2013 will help the jaded and the cranky appreciate the new guys a bit more.

Andy Partridge, Colin Moulding, and Dave Gregory will shake hands and release one more new record as XTC.

The following artists will release stripped-down-back-to-basics records:
Rolling Stones



So what are your musical wishes for 2013?

Burn Out, Fade Away, Or Be The Rolling Stones

This is something I posted as a comment on Burning Wood's "12-12-12 Recap":


When does it end? At what point do Rolling Stones fans, of which I am one, just admit that what they are playing...the music they are making... the sounds...just ain't cutting it?

I'm not looking to start an unnecessary firestorm with Stones diehards. I'm simply looking for an understanding as to why the handful of 50th Anniversary shows that have taken place thus far, with below standard and predictable set lists, with ticket prices close to $1000, with Mick Jagger's voice sounding more and more like Ian McKellen and with Keith Richards so obviously struggling with his axe, haven't frustrated more people. I love this band. I've defended this band right through 1989's "Steel Wheels," and even sang high-praise over their last tour. But something is just not right with these last few shows, and few but me, seem to see and hear it.

So is it me?

I went on to say this-

What is this loyalty? Is it just about longevity and nothing else? They don't even play for the fans anymore. Look at this current set list. I don't care how old they are, how long they've been around, how cool Keef is or how amazing "Sticky Fingers" is, this band is done. It's ok. Just say it.


I do understand loyalty. So in retrospect, that shouldn't have been a point of discussion. Yet, I know people who were trashing The Who and their live performances as far back as 2002, when only Keith Moon was missing from the mix. Pete & Roger were all but laughed at for their Super Bowl performance. Why? Where was the loyalty there? What makes Mick & Keith immune to the critical bashing taken by other dinosaur acts? The Stones certainly aren't any more relevant. If anything, Jagger's attempts to stay relevant usually amount to some crappy new music with some hip producer, or the signing on of "relevant" artists like Lady Gaga and Christina Aguilera for guest spots, and yet the Stones roll on, sounding older and older, and raping the fans in every way possible.

One last thing I wrote in that comment--

Beatles fans never had any qualms at all trashing Paul McCartney's solo work, sometimes even before listening and this was when Macca was half the age of the Stones and putting out records that were at least as good as any of the Stones records since 1981. 

While we're at it, what about Bob Dylan? The guy gets abused at every turn. Again, I'm not looking for a discussion about who is better. The Beatles, McCartney, The Who, Dylan or the Stones.  I just want to know, are we truly enjoying the Rolling Stones these days, or are we watching them the way we'd watch our crazy Uncle Ed warble through "I'll Be Seeing You" at his 90th birthday party, with respect and pathos, while secretly wishing we could just have some cake and go home.

"Stop Children, What's That Sound?"

The Beatles and the Rolling Stones. You know'em. You love'em.

In two separate conversations this week, with two dear friends who also happen to be two wonderful bass players, the topic of who was better, The Beatles or the Stones, was discussed. One friend simply said, "Apples and oranges." The other? "It's not apples and oranges. They were two rock and roll bands who came out of England at the same. One was better. Simple."

My intention this week is not a Beatles VS. Stones debate, though feel free to weigh in, if that's what will float your boat.

Some friends and I were listening to "Kaleidoscope" by Siouxsie & The Banshees and we all offered a similar opinion. Few bands, if any, sounded like Siouxsie & The Banshees before Siouxsie, and though many "goth," "punk," and "new wave" bands tried after Siouxsie, it was the Banshees who created the sound. A sound we feel was propelled by the drumming of Budgie and delivered with the evil grace of Siouxsie Sioux. Very special, like it or not.

Two others bands, from two somewhat different genres, seemed to have cornered the market on that special sound. AC/DC and The Cars. There were hard rock bands before and aft, as well as new wave bands. But the sound of AC/DC and The Cars is distinctive. It's nothing to shake a stick at. It was their own.

Even The Beatles and the Stones had peers doing the same exact thing at the same time. Not as well, but they were there with the same sound. As years went on, bands from the 60s right up to the present, emulated the Beatles harmonies, chord changes and overall sound. With the Stones, it's only rock and roll, so that sound was hard to avoid.

So your headstart---Siouxsie, AC/DC, and The Cars-

What successful band truly had an original sound, a sound that seems to have been created with the release of their first LP?

Your Best Records Of 2012

It's that time of year, folks. Time for making lists. Best this. Worst that. Most whatever.

So how about you?

What are your favorite records of 2012?

I have 20 that I hope to post by Wednesday morning.

Feel like posting yours.  One, ten, or twenty.  Feel free!

(The photo has nothing at all really, to do with anything. Just records on my floor.)

Grrrrrrr!

 ----Intro: Sympathy For The Devil
01. I Wanna Be Your Man
02. Get Of Off My Cloud
03. It's All Over Now
04. Paint It Black
05. Gimme Shelter (with Mary J. Blige)
06. Wild Horses
07. All Down The Line
08. Going Down (with Jeff Beck)
09. Out Of Control
10. One More Shot
11. Doom And Gloom
12. It's Only Rock 'n' Roll (But I Like It) (with Bill Wyman)
13. Honky Tonk Woman (with Bill Wyman)
----Band Introductions
14. Before They Make Me Run
15. Happy
16. Midnight Rambler (with Mick Taylor)
17. Miss You
18. Start Me Up
19. Tumbling Dice
20. Brown Sugar
21. Sympathy For The Devil
----- Encores
22. You Can't Always Get what You Want (with full choir)
23. Jumpin' Jack Flash

 

Well, there it is. Last night's set list from the Rolling Stones first show of their 50th Anniversary Tour. 

With the exception of "I Wanna Be Your Man," and of course, the addition of Bill and Mick, what about this "special" set list is so special? Maybe it's the brass balls addition of "Out Of Control," a song from "Bridges To Babylon," or Mary J. Blige, the most overrated and inept R&B singer to ever fool the masses taking Merry Clayton's role in "Gimme Shelter?"  What I see here is one of the most standard set lists of the Stones' last 10 tours.

I think about the hype and of course, the exorbitant ticket prices---for the hell of it, I tried for a single at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, and pulled the very last section on the floor, about 150 yards away (probably smarter than sitting close enough to see Keith), all the way to the right for a grand total of $831---and it just gets my knickers all tangled. Is this truly the best Mick & Keith can offer on the last go around?

I won't begrudge the boys for playing both new songs from the new ripoff hits collection. That makes sense. But considering the depth of this band's material and the fact that they have always thrown no less than 5 nuggets into each tour, this set seems very pat to me.

Is it me? Am I just a cynical crank? Am I jaded? Please say no.

CAN YOU RECALL YOUR OWN PERSONAL "WORST BANG FOR YOUR BUCK" CONCERT EXPERIENCE?

 

 

Time It Was, It Was

A couple of years ago, my friend Jeff told me I should listen to The Galaxies, a power pop band that was really knocking him out. I did and I loved it. Great melodies, solid harmonies, and enough hooks to snag a flounder.  But one song in particular did something to me.

I had been riding a train home from Jersey, iPod on shuffle, and "An Ocean Between Us" started to play. By the end of the first chorus, I found myself blubbering. Second and third times through were no better. I had to slink down in my itchy seat, fearing an unnecessary concern from a conductor and worried I might have to explain. I didn't want to. I just wanted to listen to the song again, if you can believe it.

 



Might have been my frame of mind at the time, but I found that subsequent listens, while not as powerful, still left me weak. Time has passed and this song found its way to last week's "Weekend Mix." During playback of that set, it happened again. That song and that chorus triggered that ride, among other things inside of me. I guess that's the way it will forever be with "An Ocean Between Us."

I wrote to Jeff simply to thank him for suggesting The Galaxies and I told him what I just told you.

He replied:

"Great idea for Burning Love? Songs that really get to you in ways that are really wonderful or really awful."


Another one for me is Simon & Garfunkel's "Old Friends/Bookends," a masterpiece of music and storytelling if there ever was one.  Of course, the backstory of Paul & Art adds to the drama. Their happiness, their sorrow. Everyone can relate. But it's the strings that really say it all, beginning at the very end of "Old Friends" and continuing into "Bookends." That moment of chaos, the swelling of emotion that slowly and sadly winds down and resolves, is one of the most powerful stretches of pop music ever recorded. In less than a minute and without one word sung, we live a lifetime. It never fails to tear me up.

Any songs and stories you'd like to share on this subject? Wonderful or awful, feel free.

Who's Irreplaceable?

I am a little more than halfway through the recently released Pete Townshend memoir. Nothing too revelatory as of yet, but it has been very entertaining. One thing though that has been mentioned a number of times was Townshend's on again/off again affair with Keith Moon's playing. A recent documentary about the making of "Quadrophenia," which aired chopped to bits on VH-1 last week, shows Pete expressing the same feelings.

Basically, Roger loved Keith as a drummer and Pete thought he overplayed. While Pete was constantly hearing "boom BAP boom BAP," Keith was forever playing "boom da TING biddily BASH BOO BOOM, dugga-dugga-CRASH." (Actual Townshend quote, I swear.)

I've been on a Who kick for what seems like months now, playing everything from the early records to Roger Daltrey's lame solo work to bad sounding bootlegs. I also managed to find a soft-spot for some of the material on "It's Hard," particularly the Entwistle tracks. But, the difference between the band with Keith Moon and with Kenney Jones is like the difference between firing a bullet and throwing one, as the expression goes.

 (I do want to give props to Zak Starkey, who I think is closer in spirit to Keith Moon than Kenney Jones. I guess it helps when Keith Moon is your teacher.)

This is not to say Kenney isn't a fine drummer. Just listen to the Small Faces and the Faces. Stellar. But the two records with Jones, "Face Dances" and "It's Hard," the former released just a little over two years after Moon's death, have a vibe-change that is hard to ignore. Can one man make that much of a difference?


Are there other bands you consider completely different animals after replacing just one member?

Lead vocalists should not be considered, or bands like Foreigner, a band touring with NO original members.

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.

Bob & Paul & Neil & Paul

Here's Jeff K.:

Reading David Carr's excellent profile of Neil Young in the Times prompted me to spend a good part of Sunday morning listening to a series of Neil Young bootlegs, highlighting his live performances and best recordings from 1966 to last year. More than forty years after they were recorded, his early songs still seem fresh and interesting to me and I can still feed off the energy of a live performance of "Sea of Madness" from 1970. Yes, as Carr and everyone else points out, Young isn't the most consistent writer, but his highs easily set standards that have rarely been matched or surpassed, and he is a true artist, willing to put himself out there on a limb and fail, if it means being true to himself. 

Earlier this week, Soundsource sent this to me:  

His longtime manager and friend Elliot Roberts describes Young as “always willing to roll the dice and lose” and says: “He has no problem with failure as long as he is doing work he is happy with. Whether it ends up as a win or loss on a consumer level is not as much of an interest to him as one might think.”

Back to Jeff K.:

That raises a really interesting question to me. Of Neil, Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and Paul McCartney, who to me remain the best living musician/songwriters to come out of the 1960s, who is the greater artist? Can you pick one?


I need some time to weigh in. I'll be back. In the meantime....

One More Cup Of Coffee Before We Go

We sure love lists, don't we?

I want to take one more Dylan poll.

Last week saw a splendid return on your Bob Dylan faves. Of course, the obvious follow-up would be "Worst Dylan Songs," right? Not gonna do it. I'm not opening the flood gates for the unanimous denouncement of "Wiggle Wiggle." Too easy, and I really don't mind that song.

I think this is more interesting.

Pick one Bob Dylan song...just one...that you detest.

Now you may hate "Wiggle Wiggle" so much, that it has to be your answer. That's fine, if that's what it is. But I'm thinking more along the lines of a song that isn't normally cited as Zimmy's nadir, but a song that just does not work for you.

For years, I could not listen to "Get Back" by The Beatles. I hated everything about it, from Paul's nasally vocals to Ringo's galloping snare drum. I've since come around. I don't love it now, but I won't turn it off.

On the other hand, I WILL turn off "Honest With Me" from "Love & Theft." The slide guitar riff is relentlessly annoying and enough to send me running the second I hear it.

Let's see what you've got.

Remember....JUST ONE.

Your Favorite Bob Dylan

The premise seems simple, but the task may prove otherwise.

What are your 10 favorite Dylan tunes?

I know some of you will find it hard to come up with ten and I can't help but say, I just can't wrap my head around that.

Many things amaze me about this man, not the least of which is how 40 years after his first recording, he managed to write my single favorite Dylan tune.

I occasionally obsess over Bob Dylan, so much so that, the last time I saw him live, I could not take my eyes off of him. Even as he stood aside and drank some water while Charlie Sexton took a solo, I was riveted. There were also moments where he just stood still as the band played, and I focused on his inactivity. Just standing. It was that interesting to me.

So, the 10...

Note I said "favorite" and not "best." 


I only ask that #1 needs to be #1. 2-9 can be in any order you'd like.  Feel free to expound on your choices. Or just offer your choices. It's up to you.


MINE

#1- Mississippi
(Any version. I don't care. They all work wonders.)

2-9 (Alphabetically)

Abandoned Love
Every Grain Of Sand
Hurricane
Idiot Wind
Like A Rolling Stone
Mama You Been On My Mind
Positively 4th Street
Sweetheart Like You
You're A Big Girl, Now

(This wasn't easy.)

I'd also like to mention "Percy's Song," but it has to be the Fairport Convention version.

Remember, #1 needs to be #1.