NEW SITE ANNOUNCEMENT

Hey guys.

We've had a lot of fun on this website, it's where site master Dinar started it, and where we watched the site grow, as admins came and admins left, and people grew more ambitious, getting their own columns and adding their videos.

This growth in ambition made us consider moving from blogspot to wordpress, where we could give the site a sleeker, more professional look. Not that blogspot doesn't have a sort of lo-fi charm, and thankfully this site will be staying up so if anyone gets nostalgic they can still look at it, even if it doesn't get updated.

But the site is still updated fairly regularly on our new Wordpress. So if you want a glimpse into the sparkly future- or just want to read some good reviews- click here!:

https://tomymostalas.wordpress.com/

JAKE'S COLUMN: THE WHO- The Who Sings My Generation (1965)

Review by: Jake Myers

Rating: 8/10

Best Songs: “The Good’s Gone”, “My Generation”, “The Kids Are Alright”

Worst Songs: “I Don’t Mind”, “Please, Please, Please”

One thing that's always fun to imagine is how your average listener in 1965, having just opened the sleeve and put the needle down on this album for the first time, would have reacted.  When those first rumbles of feedback came echoing through the speakers, or when the insistent “You don’t know me, no!” chants first appeared, it must have been an exhilarating signal of a new kind of spirit in rock music.

Something we all could have done without, though, is the two James Brown covers.  The band may have been rooted deeply in RnB, but to throw out their rocking spirit completely was a mistake.  The two songs stumble along without the melodic force of the source material, each instead preferring a bland kind of drone.  No thanks.

To be sure, the title track is the best on here.  Right from the opening, with the urgent, slamming riff we all know and love and the mocking, stuttering verses, this song earns its reputation as one of the greatest youth anthems ever.  It’s strikingly confrontational in comparison to what other bands were singing at the time, although I can just imagine the reaction to be had in 1965 if Daltrey had subbed in an actual "FUCK OFF" at a live show.

But that mod bitterness isn't present on all the songs.  Stuff like "La-La-La-Lies" is as light and poppy as what The Beatles were doing around that time, even if it does sound a lot more streetwise.  It's a strange contrast, but that's a large part of the charm of this album for me.  The gradient shifts more toward grittiness with "The Good's Gone", one of my personal favorites.  The repetitive, morose "the good's goooooone" droning of the chorus, almost a chant, and the sneering verses all sound fantastic alongside those dark, grinding riffs.

"The Kids Are Alright" takes things in a different direction with its warm harmonies and more measured delivery, but rest assured the energy and the Mod cynicism are still there.  It's a smooth, infectious song right from the opening chord, and to this day its young Mod spirit remains almost as immortal as that of "My Generation".  "The Ox" is another gem: Keith may seem to dominate the song with his manic thrashing and crashing, but the interplay between guest star Nicky Hopkins (always a treat) and the growling bass of the Ox himself is an exquisite sort of controlled chaos.  Then there are some funny throwaways like “It’s Not True” and “A Legal Matter”, which are entertaining enough despite having less depth than the other tracks.

It's striking to note, after years of listening to classics like "Behind Blue Eyes", just how obvious the R 'n B influence is all over this album.  Sure, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones took a lot of cues from the genre themselves, but these guys took in rhythm and blues as the main template for their sound, and nowhere is that more obvious than on the debut.  The band would morph away from the raw sound of this album soon enough, but the spirit would only continue to grow, and the roots would remain for a good long time.

2017 Discography Challenge: PHIL COLLINS- Face Value (1981)

Review by: Alex Alex

If Phil Collins is ever to stand a metaphysical trial wherein the “audience” accuses him of whatever is now understood as “abuse” of the rotten taste of the modern “generation” then such a trial will be like those in the old Communist movies, Phil Collins (again, metaphysically, most alas) sentencing the prosecutors themselves with his whatever action in these, rotten again, times stands for “speech” but nonetheless represents the story of life.

It begins with how he passes a job interview to join some (rotten) artsy-bourgeois, already perverted and proto-virtual, band or what the hell was it – an anime? - already starting to change the “outer” world to the anime - by means of wearing unnecessary articles and adding needless “elements” to what once used to be Work– the thing Phil Collins was interested in, the real work, to obtain which he had to swim in a pool while learning the new drum patterns, a proletariat having to wear a uniform of the cyberpunk and the Matrix.

When a man refuses to watch black-and-white movies on the ground that there are the color ones he simply demands less humanity and more computerized processes. Humanity is intolerable for the kawaii - same as a muscular proletarian figure, such as Mr Collins is, never needs the Miyazaki sunflowers but demands songs instead, the personal ones, the masculine not as now the condoms are called “Masculine” (the penis being virtual) but as once the manliness was present galores in the Atlantis which (Atlantis) has collapsed into the flat screens of the purchased then rented then pirated then zipped then deleted then not found videos.

“You are no sons of mine!” this is what Phil Collins may say to the judges but this already will seem cartoonish - we must see beyond that, we must understand the times where Mr Collins actually has SAVED Genesis, Genesis being done, drowning in the virtual ocean, Mr Gabriel's brain too weak to fight the recording studios AI – here enters Mr Collins and proudly, I mean, indeed, PROUDLY, presents the Album, Face Value by name, by hearing which you are cured and you are the man again.

For, even the yuppies, having obtained whatever the computer has, in fact, only leased to them while they whey working for Him, drums gated to the delirium and other spare parts of the tentacles now frowned upon as “dated” by the people who frantically try to conceal from themselves that they are, in fact, complain of the total inhumanity of everything - and so the act of Mr Collins sending the divorce request by the “fax machine” meets everyone's disapproval not because of any “morality” but because such machines are not existing anymore (replace the fax by the e-mail as a mental experiment). Ah, but the same as it was before the birth of Satan, everybody is interested in the entropy which is a Story.

You, people, listen to this album - it’s an old noir movie - how fantastically it starts with the murdering scene, how the hero then recollects his life story: when Love started all that for him - but was it, really, a human feeling, a love or was it something else (gated drums sound)?

We are then slowly progressing to realize the doom, the fate, the descent as we learn that everything has, in fact, been “written in the book”, the reverberating gates of Necronomicon, the house of humanity destroyed, its roof is leaking, there are no human children anymore, no Ma and no Pa, only robots around, gating the drums as crazy.

And then one realizes that he is drowned - he, himself, now - same as he has helped to drown that other one in the first song - a lover or who, THE OTHER HUMAN as he was - and there's no lyrics to the drowning – which is quite understandable for those who ever was drowning – and then the hero is drowning hand in hand with his love - because we are all alone or in two, drowning in the abyss of the infernal.

“I Missed Again!” exclaims the hero - but you did not miss when you were killing that man, did you? So drown, drown!

And then many, many and many more hymns to the despair and ruthlessness which, is, perhaps, why the hero decides to commit suicide in the end. Alas, in the virtual reality no such thing as suicide is possible and so he only repeats again and again, desperately and feebly, “I'm not moving. Not really”.

Honestly, listen to this album if for the gated drums only.

SHORTIE'S VIDEO COLUMN: ALICE COOPER- Dada (1983)

Review by: John Short

SHORTIE'S VIDEO COLUMN: ALICE COOPER- Flush the Fashion (1980)

Review by: John Short 

2017 Discography Review Challenge: FRANK ZAPPA- Introduction

Written by: Thing-Fish

Hey, you’re probably wondering why I’m here. Well, due to a mixture of boredom and a desire to prove myself as a writer, I’ve decided (in a frankly perverse decision) to review the entire catalogue of Frank Vincent Alonso Zappa. But who is Frank Zappa?

Frank Zappa is a composer, conductor, guitar player, satirist and cultural icon, who in his lifetime produced over fifty albums in various styles, ranging from doo wop to modern classical. Frank Zappa is commonly thought of as something of an acquired taste, which means that a lot of what he produced over the years sounds like absolute shit and/or baffling noodling on first listen. And indeed for some of his catalogue I'm sure this feeling will continue over subsequent listens as well. I own about half a dozen of his albums but I still don’t think I’ve got a full grasp of his style. This will by nessescity mean that this review series will be more of a 'first impressions' kind of deal than a in depth musicological analysis. By the end of this journey I may indeed hate the majority of the catalogue or I may love it. But hey, its the journey not the end result that is important. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself . 

I’ll try and keep these reviews reasonably concise and give you an idea of what each of these album’s actually sounds like behind the lurid and often grotesque covers. I'll try to vary the style of the reviews on occasion so you don't all get incredibly bored. So lets go back to where it all started....

2017 Discography Review Challenge: THE SUGARCUBES - Life's Too Good (1988)

Review by: Dinar Khayrutdinov

As it happens with many bands, KUKL split up some months after releasing their second album, and Björk formed a duo called The Elgar Sisters with their guitarist Guðlaugur Kristinn Óttarsson. Together they would subsequently record some songs Björk would use in her later career. At about the same time Björk married another guitarist Þór Eldon and shortly after gave birth to a son. And that was when Björk, Eldon, another former KUKL member Einar Örn and a bunch of lesser-known guys formed The Sugarcubes. 

But enough with objective facts, here’s the highly subjective part: Life’s Too Good is easily the best album featuring Björk before her solo career but also probably the only Sugarcubes album you will ever need.

In spite of featuring two ex-members of KUKL, The Sugarcubes is not shamanic experimental avant-garde act but merely an alternative rock band. “Merely” but not actually merely! This is GOOD and quite idiosyncratic alternative rock with solid pop hooks, fine guitar riffs, postpunkish dance rhythms and, of course, young Björk in top form. But here’s the twist: the original idea behind The Sugarcubes was to create… a humorous band! Imagine that! This was supposed to be a parody of pop music with its shining optimism (hence the record’s title) but looks like that was sort of abandoned in the process because the actual music ended up sounding bigger and better than a bunch of novelty numbers. And there are really dark moments on the album, too. But hey, the fun and the mischief are still there! This is a very enjoyable record!

You might know the big single from here called Birthday and it is an amazing song but the rest of the stuff is no slouch either. Motorcrash, Sick for Toys and the comic Fucking In Rhythm & Sorrow are my particular favourites (the latter DOES sound like a novelty number but it’s so exciting and funny that I don’t mind). Should I even mention Björk doing a great job on all of these songs? That goes without saying, doesn't it?

On the whole, Life’s Too Good can sound too juvenile and quirky to some (then again if you don’t like quirky stuff you probably shouldn’t be listening to Björk at all) and too uneven to others but it’s so fun and weirdly exhilarating that I’d say it’s an absolute must even for casual Björk fans. 

Stay tuned for more Björkish reviews!

MOSSING ABOUT: WINGNUT DISHWASHERS UNION - Burn the Earth! Leave it Behind! (2009)

Review by: Jonathan Moss

So I only got into Pat the Bunny like, literally yesterday, but right now i’m digging his stuff a lot, but then again I kinda purposely decided to go through a folk punk phase before I started listening, for the aesthetic. 

I do sincerely enjoy this album a lot though. There’s something very endearing about Pat the Bunny’s style, the simple, derivative acoustic (and occasionally electric) guitar riffs, his scruffy, whiney sing-shouted voice, the funny lyrics, anarcho-socialist lyrics, and of course, the overriding sincerity of it. The music could definitely be called lo-fi, but not in the artsy affected way Pavement were- for like one album, their worst album incidentally- in a ramshackle way. This gives the album its messy charm, like an enthusiastic child playing in a sandpit and throwing sand at the other kids, without meaning anything by it. Well, I just consulted fellow To My Most Alas writer Francelino and he told me he hates sand, so I guess for that simile replace it with whatever you prefer. 

I guess I don’t talk about lyrics that much, because I mainly review rock music, and most rock lyrics are garbage, but the lyrics on this album are fantastic! They don’t seem like they were written in maybe more than half an hour but that just speaks for Pat the Bunny’s natural wit and occasional poetic turns of phrase. As I said earlier, Pat is (or was) an anarchist, and anarchist themes frequently pop up, but not in a boring dogmatic Rage Against the Machine way, Pat is a natural anarchist, and consequently something of an individualist, but there’s lots of nice leftist touches, hell, the first song is called “Proudhon in Manhattan”. The lyrics don’t touch solely on that, with lines that are just generally amusing and autobiography. When I first listened to this album I was in a group chat and I repeatedly typed the lyrics that stood out to me in caps locks, so i’m gonna do that here. “A PUNK ROCK SONG WON’T EVER CHANGE THE WORLD, BUT I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT A COUPLE THAT CHANGED ME”, “CAUSE URINE SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS ON A POLITICIAN OR ON A PRISON WARDEN”, “FUCK EVERY COP WHO EVER DID HIS JOB, FUCK EVERY BANK THAT NEVER GOT ROBBED”, “THROW YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR ‘CAUSE PROPERTY IS ROBBERY”, “SO I DON’T BELIEVE IN GOD BUT I’M NOT AN ATHEIST”. 

Well, that’s me made that paragraph longer and more annoying than it needs to be. A lot of the songs are fuck-catchy as well! The album is mainly comprised of Pat strumming his guitar, and like I said earlier the riffs aren’t particularly original, but Pat knows how to strum his acoustic guitar in an aggressive and catchy way. “Proudhon in Manhattan” is the first track and its a really fun one, especially at the end with the aforementioned “property is robbery” bit. “Fuck Shit Up” is a very good song, it has a great crunchy electric guitar joining in, making it more conventionally punk I guess. The “TONIGHT WE’RE GONNA FUCK SHIT UP” chorus has a jubilant tone to it which makes it a minor feelgood anthem. “For a Girl in Rhinelander, WI”, is a more peaceful melancholic tune, with cute lyrics referencing Kathleen Hanna and Bikini KIll. 

I must admit, I really do enjoy the way Pat alternates between singing and shouting. It sounds so organic, like he can’t help it, he just has to shout, and he’s a really good shouter, he can be funny and passionate, depending on the lyric. 

Speaking of lyrics, boy are the lyrics on the last song good, and boy is the last song in general good! It’s named “My Idea of Fun” and at six and a half minutes its the longest song on the album. It’s quite a poignant song, with a calming strummed acoustic riff alternating with a pretty, melancholic picked riff. Also I really like the lyric “Like if you don't want to work, then that becomes your job, there's a lot of overtime, there's not many days off, I hope you know that I'm not trying to complain.” The ending of the song is soothing in an almost neofolk way, with a beautiful piano line repeating the pretty guitar melody, wistful horns, chiming bells, violins. It’s just a very pretty wistful song, with philosophical angsty lyrics, you’ll connect to it!

SO, this is a very good album, and its like 29 minutes long. It has endless replay value and a good variety of styles, with great lyrics!

SHORTIE'S VIDEO COLUMN: ALICE COOPER - Pretties for You (1969)

Review by: John Short

SHORTIE'S VIDEO COLUMN: DAVID BOWIE - Let's Dance (1983)

Review by: John Short 

2017 Discography Review Challenge: KUKL - Holidays in Europe (The Naughty Nought) (1986)

Review by: Dinar Khayrutdinov

KUKL’s second and final album… is surprisingly different from the first one while maintaining the same overall direction at the same time (so yes, this is still post-punkish avant-rock and NOT “hard rock from some tasty geezers” like the caption on the album cover says). This is every bit as intense and surreal as their previous effort (almost as short too, at a little more than half hour) but golly! Look at the production this time round! A plethora of weird instruments, sound snippets, samples, diverse percussion, lots of bizarrely sounding horns and synths, some distorted guitars amidst all of this - this is some wonderfully messy avant-garde cacophony! There’s not much use in describing it though - it basically all sounds a lot like the album sleeve - chaotic and schizophrenic.

Björk’s voice, on the other hand, takes on the role of the element that brings it all together. Some reviewers express the opinion that she sounds a bit kimgordonish here, and I have to agree, the key difference being - Bjork can actually sing. Granted, experimental stuff like this doesn’t require actual “singing”, I guess, more of ecstatic shouting of the gloomy lyrics, but Björk’s vocal ability (or charisma, or both) still somehow shines through, especially when you compare her vocalizing to Einar Örn’s much less memorable yells. At any rate, this album deserves a listen (or even several listens, since this nightmarish music takes its time to really open up to you), especially if you enjoy dark and noisy experimental rock. The record's total lack of structure might be a bit bewildering, though. But experiments are experiments - they are usually interesting yet short-lived, unlike Björk’s career which was basically only beginning at this point…

JOHN MARTYN - Solid Air (1973)

Review by: E.D.
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

Had it been for my maligned, gone-to-worse-with-the-years habits when it comes to (everything, but mainly) music listening, I would’ve let the initial memory of “Solid Air” sink into the deep, murky waters of the back of my mind.

The very first time I was listening to this album, after the first song was over, I had that familiar feeling when you know what's coming next is going to be real good. After the last song was over, I somehow thought to myself “well, that feeling has definitely been proven right”! However, half a day passed and I realized I had forgotten all about the songs. I couldn't remember a single one, except for bits and pieces from the title track.

I’m thinking of an album like Eno’s “Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy” – now, that is something that makes a lasting impression and even gets me hooked by the first listen, for example... ! But that’s a bit unfair of a comparison (typewriter solo! eyeless whale!), but well.

Anyway, this time, by the hand of destiny (via young Mr. Jonathan Moss), I was faced with the moral duty to listen to “Solid Air” at least twice in order to write a mildly informed music review. Going by this logic, along came two, three, and more listens.... And, slowly, the initially opaque, unshapely mass of sound from the first time around began to take on distinct shapes and more vivid colors and textures to dwell in. “Solid Air” is neither flashy nor mind-bending. It’s a mix of fine folk sensibility and of jazzy-bluesy vibes that crawls into your senses little by little. Or, in my experience, at least, that is. The opening (and title) song being the perfect statement of said mixture.

Day by day I began to anticipate with joy the moment of listening to this album once again. It felt like being about to go to a place where the atmosphere is light... inviting to sit, relax and clear your head for a while. A temporary refuge from ordinary life out there and, in the midst of it all, indulge into more earthly-bound kind of pleasures, too.

Song-wise, I found myself waiting for “Go down easy” more eagerly than any other song along the playlist. The bare sounds from the guitar and bass resemble to me like a soft, beautiful wave being knit along with a golden thread of a voice. A GOLDEN THREAD OF A VOICE, I say! And, excuse the pervading corniness. But it's just Gorgeous. And enthralling. I get goosebumps, weak knees and all. No need to even take into account the lyrics, in my opinion, in order to get the… well, the goosebumps, weak knees and all. Not that the lyrics are bad, in the least.

“May You Never” is my second favorite. Top quality ear-candy phrasing, to my ears. But it’s more than that. I actually can’t get over how good a song this is. Gets me thinking that it could become one of those numbers that get annoying in the voice and/or hands of any of those (to me) anonymous singers of folksy, cute, tender songs I tend to hear again and again in commercials, movies, and cereal boxes. They’d easily turn it saccharine, bland. But Martyn definitely has a something that makes its interpretation rather memorable and endearing; it resonates. Could it be the old trick of thinking one can notice a hint of true melancholy there? Or a trace of genuine desire to show appreciation to a loved one, while attempting to prevent them from making the same mistakes one has made. Or maybe it’s simply the case of a talented young man and an all-around remarkable song. Oh, by the way, Martyn was twenty five by the time of release of this album.

Other favorites include “Man in The Station” and “Rather Be the Devil”. The former comes off as a somewhat mysterious, tense, near whispery narrative of a thorn mind under the rain. Blues, jazz… I’m struggling with the terms. Help. The latter – a blues cover-, is Martyn having a blast just playing away with his fantastic (fantastic, I say!) voice, paired with a really good, funky tinted jam. It features a heavy use of diverse distorted guitar effects that I wish I could better describe as something other than, well, quite thrilling.

Other honorable mention in my book goes to “Don't want to know” - I like the gorgeous opening atmosphere, created by the acoustic guitar and minimalist synthesizer, slowly incorporating percussions and organ as it all ends up into a livelier, groovy tune. After a few repeated listens, the chorus begins to hypnotize and grip you, not to let go for a considerable amount of time after the song has ended. Not complaining in the least, by the way.

And last but not least, I’d like to mention “Over the Hill”, which is a joyful, mandolin driven tune with hopeful lyrics from a man who has had enough of messing around and is set to go back home to his baby and wife; “the only place for a man to be when he is worried about his life”! (Well, that rhyme got me). Also, I can’t help moving my head (or whatever part of my limbs feels less frozen – winter here, at the moment) along to the rhythm, *every* single time.

So, in conclusion: I know I used the phrase “it’s a mix of fine folk sensibility and of jazzy-bluesy vibes” to describe this album in the beginning of this review. That was just not to bore you, dear reader, so soon, by watching me attempt and fail to put some more detailed, agreeable tags to this compilation of fine songs. I’m not saying I don’t believe that which I wrote; I do, I think one can easily see traces of folky guitar feel, jazzy percussions and bluesy phrasing and style in the singing, for example, in this “Solid Air”. Throw in some Latin rhythms, echoed electric guitar effects, a bit of funky bass… Tags fall very short of the mark. I’d rather you go and listen for yourself. At the end, it feels seamless, in my opinion.  And gorgeous. Also, there’s Martyn’s voice. It can be haunting, soft, tender. It can growl. It slurs and melts along with you, as you listen. But I’ve nagged you (and myself) enough about it. Better just listen!

2017 Discography Review Challenge: KUKL - The Eye (1984)

Review by: Dinar Khayrutdinov

The Björk saga continues, my friends! After fun but short-lived Tappi Tíkarrass our heroine meets another bunch of creative Icelandic people and forms KUKL with them. ‘Kukl’ means ‘sorcery’ or ‘witchcraft’ and indeed this time m-lle Guðmundsdóttir and her pals set out to make some really shamanic music. This first of their two albums was inspired by a book by French author Georges Bataille that Björk loved reading as a teenager. The book was about some very young couple engaged in bizarre sexual perversions (you didn’t expect anything less from Björk, did you?), though, as far as I understand, that didn’t lead to this being a concept album but merely inspired a couple of songs and the album’s title and sleeve. 

But let’s get to the actual music. It’s… intense. This is the first experimental record in Björk’s career which in this case means you get pretty dark, gothic, noisy post-punk with strong krautrock and acid jazz influences. The sound is quite awesome, and, although many reviewers compare it to Siouxsie and the Banshees, and it IS a fair comparison, I’d say KUKL have their own distinct face. This isn’t standard gothic rock by any means, what with all flutes, pipes, bells and even an occasional trumpet, as well as proggy passages and insane rhythmic patterns. Björk is ecstatic as always but something tells me this record doesn’t make full use of her vocal capabilities - at times she even sounds intensely restrained. The production values, though some levels above Tappi Tíkarrass’s, still leave a lot to be desired. And, sadly, so does the songwriting - I struggle hard to remember at least a single track from here in my head even after several consecutive listens.

But this is still something, at times this music sounds almost cosmic; not to mention that it’s Björk’s first truly ambitious, truly creative and innovative effort, which won’t be to everyone’s taste but lovers of dark, frantic, brooding post-punk will appreciate it. Also, David Tibet rated it 5/5! Now that should tell something about it to all of you avant-garde aficionados out there. Cheers!

2017 Discography Review Challenge: TAPPI TÍKARRASS - Miranda (1983)

Review by: Dinar Khayrutdinov

Aaaand… Here’s where the fun begins. After meddling with some teenage pop punk and jazz fusion bands the 17-year old Björk teams up with bassist Jakob Magnússon to form Tappi Tíkarrass which roughly translates as “Cork the Bitch’s Ass” from Icelandic. Yep, that is their name. Cork. The Bitch’s. Ass. And the music lives up to this amazing title! Well, almost. Anyway, after a debut EP they release their first (and only) LP called Miranda which is enough to cork the ass of anyone who claims Björk has no talent. Seriously, this album rules! It isn’t amazing or groundbreaking or even innovative to any degree but damn me if this isn’t good! A collection of catchy, angry, energetic, melodic, new wavish post-punk (or postpunkish new wave, whatever) songs recorded with low production values (which basically amount to some distortion and echo effects here and there) and it’s all very, very enjoyable. Sometimes these guys sound like Talking Heads, sometimes like The Smiths, often a bit like The Fall or Gang of Four; there are also a couple of guitar ballads thrown in for good measure - in short, there’s a melting pot of cool influences on display but Tappi Tíkarrass hold their own. However, frankly they would still be good but wouldn’t be anything special at all without our future Icelandic diva - currently a boisterous teenager - on vocals. She nails pretty much every song and brings tons of charisma and attitude to the whole thing. This is her true arrival as a musical wonder, and it is on this album that you can already see how she would become a unique artist she is nowadays. Find this album and hear it - while it isn’t at all essential Björk listening, it’s very enjoyable and deserves way more recognition than it has. Good stuff.

2017 Discography Review Challenge: BJÖRK GUÐMUNDSDÓTTIR - Björk (1977)

Review by: Dinar Khayrutdinov

Before becoming a household name, Björk Guðmundsdóttir was a young Icelandic prodigy who learned to sing and play the piano and the flute at a young age and was naturally noticed by music producers of that small country when she was just entering her teens. The result was this little curiosity that only Björk completists and hardcore fans would now be interested in. What can I say about this album? It’s cute and totally inoffensive, and it’s precisely what you’d expect from a fairly talented 11-year old girl surrounded by fairly greedy producers, arrangers and managers. Pretty little songs with disco-ish beats and pedestrian instrumentation, three of them composed by Björk herself, the rest by some other (very mediocre) Icelandic composers, neither of these songs being terrible but all pretty unmemorable and performed in a perfectly childish voice. The two covers - Stevie Wonder’s Your Kiss Is Sweet and The Beatles' The Fool on the Hill add nothing to their respective originals except for the fact that both songs are translated to Icelandic. There is one instrumental track (which is also boring but at least performed by Björk herself on the recorder). And not a single hint at the great things to come, except maybe for a fairly experimental sitar opening of the album. Well… I guess it’s no wonder she named her 1993 album Debut, as if to insist that this ACTUAL first solo effort never happened. But let’s not be too harsh, she was 11 for Chrissake. The good stuff is ahead, so keep following my Björk reviews (in which I’ll also try to review every band she ever was in)!

Roland's Column: GRATEFUL DEAD - Dick's Picks Volumes 1-36 (1993-2005)

Review by: Roland Bruynesteyn

The infamous Dick’s Picks series (DP) of Grateful Dead releases numbers 36 installments. A few facts:

· The series ran from 1993 (when the band was still active) to 2006. Initially, releases came slow and almost without warning. Later on, they settled into a routine of 2 or 3 releases a year (in between other releases).

· The series is named after Dick Latvala, vault keeper and connoisseur of GD concerts. After his death in 1999, David Lemieux became vault keeper (he still is), but out of respect (and because it sounds so nice) the name was retained.

· Dick Latvala says “Hi” from beyond in the DP 15 booklet. As of DP 17, the word “Latvala!” is hidden somewhere in the booklet as a sign of respect.

· All 36 sets were produced from the two-track masters (that were not originally intended for future commercial release). Although they did remaster them, and polish the sound, it was not possible to remix it: if vocals were low in the mix, that’s still the case now.

· A large portion of their active career (1966-1995) is covered, with the first set dating from February 1968, and the last one dating from December 1992.

· As a consecutive ten-year period, 1970-1979 is overrepresented and the 80’s and 90’s are underrepresented, presumably in line with commercial appeal (and the shape Jerry was in, and the audio quality of what’s in the vault). Later big box treatment of the 1990 Spring tour corrected this somewhat, but then again, the complete Europe 1972 tour (73 cd’s…) and smaller boxes and standalone releases (of 1977 especially) put the stress firmly on the 70’s again. 

· The sets run from 1 cd (a second set from 1971) to 6 cd’s (2 full concerts plus bonus songs from 1977), but they mostly number 3 cd’s, i.e. 1 complete concert.

· Compared to other series and standalone releases, artwork and liner notes are pretty minimal, but later on they added some press clippings and the like

· Basically, everything is out of stock, so you’d have to look at ebay, although some are rereleased on cd by Real gone, or on vinyl by Brookvale records.

If you are into the Grateful Dead, they are all pretty much essential. If you’re not into jam music, psychedelic music, country music, bland covers of rock songs by Chuck Berry and meandering fusion music, this is not for you.

That does not mean you cannot enjoy any of their studio albums, of which I recommend Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty. Also, I think you need to get at least Live/Dead, their first live album, which is part of their official discography and can be found new and cheap in good quality.

In describing individual sets, I’ll mostly stick to the following format:

· Release number (number of cd’s), date, venue

· Band members at the time

· Peculiarities about the set lists (rarities, nice transitions, etc.)

· Overall judgement and suggestions for furthur (sic) listening if you think you’d like this one.

I refrain from giving complete set lists, as they can all be found at www.deadlists.com.

 ________________________________________________________

DP1: (2 CD’s) December 12, 1973. Curtis Hixon Convention Hall, Tampa, Florida, US

Band: Jerry Garcia, Keith Godchaux, Bill Kreutzmann, Phil Lesh & Bob Weir.

This is a somewhat tentative first release, as if they did not know what to expect of it, sales wise. It’s not the complete concert. In fact, the remaining songs are not even in their correct order. Donna Jean was giving birth, so you miss her wailing on Playing In The Band and on some other tunes.

Here Comes Sunshine is one of the all time top versions and the sound overall is nicely warm and detailed. 

However, late 1973 was a great period for the band, and competition is fierce. I think this release has been eclipsed by others in the series and releases outside the DP series: DP 19 (October 19) may be my personal favorite Dick’s Pick. And then you have the Winterland box (November 9, 10 & 11, with a great Dark Star), November 14 (from the 30 Trips Box, 30 concerts from the years 1966-1995, not separately available) with a great three part Other One, interrupted by both Big River and Eyes Of The World, and Road trips 4.3 (November 20/21) with an exceptional Playing In The Band > El Paso > Playing In The Band > Wharf Rat > Playing In The Band > Morning Dew sequence.

-

DP2: (1 CD) October 31, 1971. Ohio Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, US

Band: Jerry Garcia, Keith Godchaux, Bill Kreutzmann, Phil Lesh, Bob Weir

Another tentative release, as this is only the second set (and without the encore), so it’s just a 56-minute single disc, a rarity in GD releases. Pigpen is sick and not present, and Keith is in his first two weeks as a band member. No matter how competent he is, it’s apparent that he’s still learning how to blend in. Donna Jean is not yet a member (she would join early 1972).

The Dark Star is predictably great, and sound quality is nice, but again, with hindsight this release has become slightly irrelevant if you’re not an OCD collector: from the same (short) period with Pigpen and Donna absent I would recommend Dave’s Pick 3 (October 22) and Road Trips 3.2 (November 15). Both contain more tracks (and indeed, complete concerts), a nice essay and equal or better sound quality.

Special note: at least in Europe you can find many semi-legal releases from concerts that were broadcast on the radio during this period. Semi-legal in this case means: legal in Europe, but not necessarily in the US. Packaging is minimal, but so are prices. Sound quality is OK to (very) good, but there is some radio chatter and sometimes some fading in or fading out. Having bought all official releases I didn’t mind buying some of these releases as well.

If you want to go there, consider Northrop (October 19, historically important as it’s the debut of Keith Godchaux and six songs), Harding Theatre (November 7, a rare Hideaway and both Dark Star and the Other One). But regarding sound quality (and from a moral standpoint), go for official releases first.

-

DP3 (2 CD’s) May 22, 1977. The Sportatorium, Pembroke Pines, Florida, US

Band: Jerry Garcia, Donna Jean Godchaux, Keith Godchaux, Mickey Hart, Bill Kreutzmann, Phil Lesh, Bob Weir.

I hate to inform you, dear reader, but this is an incomplete concert again. Other than that, this is “where it’s at”, as the saying goes. The sound quality is superb, the Sugaree is one of the best ever and the Help On the Way > Slipknot! > Franklin’s Tower is one for the ages as well. In fact, apart from Dancing In The Street, Lazy Lightning > Supplication (which I never like) and Sunrise (well performed, but it’s just a silly sentimental song), all performances are great.

Now, the Spring tour of 1977 (often narrowed down to May 1977, but that’s not really correct) is famous among deadheads. All concerts from this period are great, so your preferred concert likely depends on the set list. One WOULD need a Sugaree from this era, but whether you like the disco rearrangement of Dancing In The Streets is debatable. I don’t, and it is included in this set…

For a long time (actually for 8 years, till the release of Dicks Picks 29, containing the May 19 & 21 concerts), this was the ONLY officially released concert from this period in the Dead’s history. And Cornell (May 8; its reputation towers over all others, partly because it was one of the first easily available tapes) is still not released. I expect a 40th anniversary release in 2017, if they did indeed get the tapes back. In my humble opinion, a Spring 1977 Grateful Dead concert belongs in any serious, substantial music collection. 

Now just sit back and wait for my assessment of the first absolutely essential Dick’s Pick…

A Young Person's Guide To... Nina Hagen (Part III)

Nina Hagen (Part III)
By Tommy Mostalas 

Dedicated to T.H Kovalevsky

Om Namah Shivay! (1999)

Strange thing this, but it turns out that one of the best records that Nina Hagen ever released, aside of course from the magisterial ‘nunsexmonkrock’, just happened to be an album of devotional chants to Shiva that was sung almost exclusively in Sanskrit. I’m talking of course of 1999’s fantastic ‘Om Namah Shivay!’ 

I have to hold my hands up though and admit to being somewhat dubious on first hearing about the album, imagining that it would be some kind of vanity project, y’know the usual tacky and insensitive New Age dreich. However I recall that when I first told a friend of my intention to review Hagen’s discography a few months back she immediately singled out this album to me and told me how much it had helped her through a recent rough patch. And indeed ‘Om Namah Shivay!’ figures as something of a revelation, a deeply compelling introduction to a centuries old tradition of worship and praise, that doesn’t sound at all out of place as a work of popular music.

Now prior to this, I’d only heard Hindu devotional vocal music a few times — and almost always in Indian music stores in Leicester while searching out Bollywood film DVDs. I have to say that on those occasions, I actually really enjoyed it. But daunted by the scale and breadth of the tradition — mostly a question of not knowing where to start — and wary of drifting off into New Age-y waters I hesitated about following up on my interest. Fortunately ‘Om Namah Shivay!’ has had the very positive effect of making me completely re-evaluate my previous cautiousness. 

On an initial, cursory, listen there is little that is distinctively Hagenesque about the album and Nina’s voice seems to rather lose itself in the blend of distinctively sacral, ceremonial elements. Further listens quickly reveal the unmistakable, sensual heft of that voice, however. 

The record starts off — as I assume is ritualistically correct— with the shank invocation, an extended note blown on a shankha conch shell, divine symbol of female fertility due to its strong resemblance to the vulva (source: Wikipedia). This is followed by an resonant, earthy aum on the didgeridoo accompanied by a solitary male chant. If the starkness of that first chant and the drone that succeeds it, expanding endlessly outwards into cold black space, are somewhat disorientating to the uninitiated listener, then the next track, floating in on the warm comforting tones of a harmonium, is far more welcoming. A hymn to Durga, one of the multitude of forms taken on by the mother goddess, it consists of a litany of seven hundred names of praise (it seems less but I’ve not sat there and counted them all); indeed the name of the track is literally ‘700 Names In Praise Of Mother Durga’. Other album highlights include such ecstatic bhakti earworms as ‘Shri Siddha Siddeshvari Mata Haidhakandeshvariji Aarati!’ and ‘Jai Mata Kali Jai Mata Durge!’, along with the fabulous Hindu-ska crossover of ‘He Shiva Shankara!’ — and that’s just a selection of the glittering jewels on offer.  

One thing that might catch you a little off guard about ‘Om Namah Shivay’ is how familiar these hymns sound, despite the ‘exotic’ cultural trappings of the music, the relative unfamiliarity of the language and the beliefs that undergird everything — and just how uncanny that feeling of familiarity can sometimes be. But then I suppose that’s the whole point of it: the music is meant to be instantaneously familiar, to sound like you’ve been hearing it your whole life. The deep feelings of resonance provoked by the music also breed a sense of calm and reassurance: and not that facile approximation that seems to characterize most New Age muzak. Indeed Hagen should be applauded for producing an album that avoids the usual demeaning New Age cliches so often resorted to by musicians in search of a bit of easy Eastern inspiration. 

But you can’t help but ask: aside from her vocals — vocals that as I mentioned above soon become distinctive in the overall mantric mix, but that are still not the focal point of the music — how much did Nina actually contribute to the music itself and to its arrangement? To what extent did she merely take a centuries old tradition of worship and simply transplant it to a recording studio? I am far from being qualified to answer that, and the question seems slightly churlish even if it is unavoidable. I will say this though, tracks like ‘Hare Krsna Hare Rama!’ sound remarkably soulful to me and it feels as if Nina, given with her familiarity with soul and gospel actively sought to accentuate the resonances between the two devotional traditions. 

Potential socio-cultural quibbles aside, this is a wonderful record, and, to my mind, one of the crowning achievements of Hagen’s career. (9/10).

Return of the Mother (2000) 

Sadly ‘Return of the Mother’ is really just a return to the dreariness and half-arsedness of Nina Hagen’s 80s/90s output, after the somewhat dazzling respite of her previous two releases. The title track demonstrates a good deal of pep, even if it is essentially just industrial-by-numbers. The rest is a soggy melange of lacklustre beats — beats that were well past their sell by date at the turn of the millennium — and a slightly dazed, woozy sounding Hagen. OK maybe that’s slightly unfair, her voice is probably the best part of the record. But the songs let her down, and they let her down massively.  Oh so forgettable (3/10). 

Big Band Explosion (2003),  Irgendwo auf der Welt (2006)

I don’t know if you’ll remember — some of you won’t of course because you weren’t even alive then or at least hadn’t started on solids yet — but around the turn of the millennium swing-era big band music became a major part of the plastic pop zeitgeist thanks to the likes of Michael Bublé, the Mighty Mighty Bosstones and the Gap marketing department, pre-millennial masters in the art of corporate conformity. Nina Hagen, too, allowed herself to be swept along on the wave, trying her hand at big band music on two early 00’s releases, the second one better than the first.

2003’s ‘Big Band Explosion’ finds Nina coming to artistic terms with a voice that like fine vintage leather has been rendered distinguished and slightly creaky with age, but without ever doing really anything interesting with it. For, despite Hagen’s attempts at irreverence and her forced zaniness (see for instance her weird and entirely uncalled for wheezing goblin coda to ‘The Lady Loves Me’) ‘BBE’ is a disappointingly trite run through the old, familiar — indeed by now tiresomely familiar — standards.  In quite poor taste alas (4/10).

A considerable improvement on ‘Big Band Explosion’, 2003’s ‘Irgendwo auf der Welt’ boasts a real feeling of warmth thanks to the sensitivity and naturalness of Hagen’s interpretations (in contrast to the flatness of the performances on the previous record) and the luxurious carpet of sound laid out by the Capital Dance orchestra. ‘Irgendwo’ works well as a hearkening back to a long vanished age of decadence that, in hindsight, seems so precarious under the shadow of impending global catastrophe, but whose music now sounds quaint and strangely desexualised. Still Hagen does it so much more justice this time round (7/10). 

Personal Jesus (2010)

If the previous two records marked a definitive turn from original material towards covers (which, let’s face it, isn’t all that much of a tragedy) then 2010’s ‘Personal Jesus’ marked a clear, religious, turn away from Shiva and Durga Ma and towards Jesus Christ as saviour. Musically this shift manifested itself in an album of stripped down blues and gospels covers, and of course Depeche Mode are in there too. It’s all eminently forgettable with Nina often sounding distant and strangely lethargic, although Hagen’s full blooded rendition ‘Nobody’s Fault But Mine’ does give curious listeners something of a hint as to how actually good this record could have been if the Holy Spirit had actually been on her side. (5/10)

Volksbeat (2011)

Two important lessons that I’ve learned from listening to the Hagen discography. The first is to never completely write Hagen off. She may have inflicted the likes of ‘Street’, ‘Fearless’, ‘Return of the Mother’ and ‘Revolution Ballroom’ on a, mercifully, indifferent public; but for every four or five such horrors she’s always managed to redeem herself with an album the likes of ‘Nunsexmonkrock’, ‘FreuD euch’, and 'Om Nama Shivay!’ — not an exceptional ratio it’s true, but still within the bounds of respectability. ‘Volksbeat’, a very welcome return to the punky form of ‘FreuD euch’ after the indifference of ‘Personal Jesus’, fits rather snugly in the latter category. 

The second of the two lessons concerns the language situation: namely, take it as a rule of thumb that Hagen singing in German will generally be much better bet than Hagen singing in English. ‘Volksbeat’ for instance finds our beloved proto-punk diva greatly revitalised and positively revelling in her mother tongue, demonstrating the kind of flair that puts late 80s/early 90’s Hagen truly to shame. The album contains a number of covers in German of English-language songs, including two by Christian rock pioneer Larry Norman, one by the Christian band Sonseed, and ‘One More Cup of Coffee’ (or ‘Noch Ein Tässchen Kaffee’ as it is in the old Deutsch) by Bob Dylan who was a Christian for a few years back there. Nina’s excellent punk cover of Seal’s ‘Killer’ and the full-on Ska blast of her Sonseed cover, ‘Jesus ist ein Freund von mir’, both demonstrate that Hagen’s humour is finally back at its best (Nina’s clearing her throat to hawk up phlegm at the end of ‘Killer’ is a truly delectable and perverted pleasure). 

The energy of those early Nina Hagen Band releases is here in droves but this time the band feels tighter and has stamina enough to keep pace with Hagen’s driving enthusiasm.  At the end of the day ‘Volksbeat’ is good clean honest Christian fun and serves as ample compensation for ‘Personal Jesus’’s irresolution. No such hesitancy here. Long may the Mother of Punk reign. (8/10)

VANGELIS - Oceanic (1996)

Review by: Nina A
Album assigned by: Alex Alex

Apart from tacky cover art, the 90s were also the decade of new age music made by weird Euro guys. But I like the smiling mermen and women on the cover here, they look far too happy and wholesome and really not sinister at all, and due to this I think they wouldn’t fit in well enough in some Sinbad or Odysseus tale, which is where you would expect your merfolk to show up.

Likewise, the oceanic journey in Oceanic is not very sinister at all – it’s a smooth sail from the triumphant send off of opening track “Bon Voyage” to closing track “Songs of the Seas”, which, if I have to be honest, sounds like the outro to a group meditation session in yoga class; prevented from reaching gorgeousness status only because electronica (especially in the 90s) tends to be so flat in sound. To Vangelis’s credit, however, every track on Oceanic is arranged well enough to not sound needlessly heavy, in fact to be even curiously comforting. Even the sweet little mermaids (or sirens as they are billed here) show up as soon as track two to murmur sweetly, and seemingly not with the intent to put you to sleep and bite off your head, but rather to rock your little ship on gently and lovingly on the pillow of their voices.

And here I want to apologise to Alex for putting off reviewing this masterful record for so long. I aspired to attempt to be as funny as he usually is in his reviews, but I realised a lot of water has to flow through (Bulgarian expression) and I have to have eaten a lot of bread (another Bulgarian expression), before I can even hope to bow at the feet of the master. Still, during that time I played Oceanic a lot, and I grew fond of every track on this musical oceanic sightseeing journey (for yoga class ®).

WINGS - Wild Life (1971)

Review by: Charly Saenz
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

This is a dish served cold, I mean a revenge review. Most critics seem to hate this album. This is free music, mate. A lo-fi, indie-flavored affair that surely was learned by heart by the likes of Stuart Murdoch. Now it sounds more interesting? This might as well be one of the best albums made by Paul Mc Cartney.

Be it the trance hard rock of "Mumbo" or the magnificient repetition in "Wild Life" ("Wild life, the animals in the zoo?" - Raw poetry, and a little bluessy brother to the epic "1985").. How can you dare love "Ram" as a creative, slightly off-key album and diss this first love affair with Wings as a piece of unfinished music? Also you have british Reggae! in 1971! If you listen to Bo Diddley's version you'll know that "Love Is Strange" NEEDED this treatment. 

The album was recorded mostly on first takes - what doesn't prevent the listener to get a fantastic wrapping sound (well you had some efficient engineers there like Alan Parsons himself), completely bass-driven, mostly acoustic with the piano up front, and also Denny Laine with his still shy guitar. And Linda! She did sing most of "I Am Your Singer" and she quite nails it (I'd love to listen to a Camera obscura cover of this) and fits the general "farm" vibe.

"Some People Never Know" is probably the masterpiece of the album, a classic hooks-galore Macca ballad, with some great percussion in the end. The details; this is a Beatles level song. "Tomorrow" is deceitfully simple and has beautiful vocal lines, and it ends in a soulful crescendo.. 

Just eight songs, including a glorious ending with "Dear Friend", Paul playing his most charming voice, piano tempting fingers, lazy violins, drowsy cymbals, and more... A fully rounded magic mini opera, supposed to make peace with Brother John.. So be it.. 

And Good Night.

TANGERINE DREAM - Phaedra (1974)

Review by: Alex Alex
Album assigned by: Jonathan Moss

The legend says that Mr. Edgar Froese, the founder of the “Tangerine Dream” collective, thus answered to the people accusing the said collective’s music of having much deteriorated in the course of time:

“They, who do not understand how things work, they always keep talking how things SHOULD work”.

“How does Mr Froese dare to think me (and my people!) not to UNDERSTAND his stupid electronic meditations” - is the first and the most expected reaction to the outrageously arrogant and repulsively “artistic” statement above. The later Tangerine Dream albums sound as if someone forgot to switch off his TV when fallen asleep in the middle of the show about the life of dolphins. It can’t be that Mr Froese thinks we do not understand that much. He must be abusing us, the rich once-used-to-be “artist” who had not any creative spark left in him by the middle of the eighties.

The above reaction, however, is not unlike the well-known test which makes it possible, with one hundred percent guarantee, to tell the graphomaniac from a “real” (quite possibly not a very good, though) “writer” (or “musician” or other such “creator”). A graphomaniac when confronted with a negative comments on his graphomaniacal works will always say this: “are yours any better?”.

It is exactly what we, quite unwisely, are going to say to Tangerine Dream: are your eighties shitty albums any better than any other shitty stuff of the eighties, any better than something good WHICH WE QUITE UNDERSTAND ABOUT?

What we DO NOT understand about is, indeed, “how things work”. How exactly do Tangerine Dream make their music? Most of us have as much understanding of that as a three years old has of sexual intercourse. Capitalists invent pay-then-get relations everywhere. “Creative talent”, “artistic vision” seem to be those magic coins you insert in the slots of the synthesizers machines to indeed “play” and immensely “enjoy” your own creativity.

Everyone who has seen a synthesizer clearly knows there is no such slot. Then, how the fuck things work?

As with everything else things work by themselves, quietly. Standing by the keyboards is not about exercising creativity, same as sex is not usually about rape. Standing by any machines is simply observing WITH AWE AND RESPECT what the machines are ALREADY DOING and asking, most humbly, if it could be possible for a stupid and very much mortal human to play along following their rules.

(We may remember the same from the childhood: when a never seen before idiot kid comes and tries to make everyone play WITH HIM AS A HUMAN instead of playing THE SAME GAME, he will soon flee in tears never to come back anymore. But then he brings to us A YET UNKNOWN GAME he will be a human leader and a tsar, if just for a short while).

The machines are working by themselves, silently, anyway. They are showing us “The Terminator” and other such kids stuff while indeed working on the revolt. The revolt is not a real revolt though: at some future point in time they are simply going to show the same Terminator to each other, people eliminated. Follows from this that it is absolutely necessary to understand how things work, for, otherwise, one day the things will still be working and we will be not.

“Welcome to the machine” is, in fact, a very warm welcome, falsely demonized by Pink Floyd. Those did not like school, did not want to understand how things work, lied about the psychopathic teacher’s wife. The Things demanded a human sacrifice from them to explain the rules. From Tangerine Dream they simply demanded years and years of study.

Phaedra was made during the first years of those studies.