It's Only Rock-n-Roll

2010-09-08T18:07:00.009-04:00

Five Decades, Five Hundred Albums

At long last, it's complete, as promised. From 1960 through 2009, I've done my best to include what I think were the best albums released over the last five decades. Every genre is included. While I do not necessarily own each and every one of these albums, I have listened to all of them.

A note here. Obviously there aren't nearly as many '60s albums, as there are '70s, '80s, '90s & '00s. In light of the fact that prior to 1967, the majority of LPs released were not up to par, I felt it only fair to include more entries from those four decades.

I make no apologies for the order of preference - you are free to disagree. Nor will I make any apologies for not including certain albums that heretofore have been considered "classics" within the rock critic community; i.e. "The White Album", "Physical Graffiti", and "Dark Side of the Moon." The reader will also realize pretty quickly my fondness for certain jazz artists that I feel have contributed in some small way to pop music. And while I do admire Blues as a genre, with the exception of Robert Cray, few artists released albums worthy of inclusion here.

Regarding the order, after you get passed the first 100 or so albums, most of the entries were very close in quality. Please don't feel offended if you see an album at, say, number 450, that you thought should've been, say, 250. Sometimes, a lot of this comes down luck of the draw. For instance, "Tapestry" was one of the better records of the '70s, but because its particular year was quite exceptional, it gets bumped down as far as it does.

And finally, if you don't like many of the entries, sue me. It's a free country!

1. The Rolling Stones: Exile on Main Street (1972)
2. The Indestructible Beat of Soweto (1986)
3. David Murray: Shakill's Warrior (1991)
4. The Grateful Dead: Live / Dead (1969)
5. Miles Davis: A Tribute to Jack Johnson (1971)
6. M.I.A.: Kala (2007)
7. The Clash: London Calling (1980)
8. The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)
9. Bruce Springsteen: Born in the U.S.A. (1984)
10. Derek & the Dominos: Layla (1970)
11. Bob Dylan/The Band: The Basement Tapes (1975)
12. Kanye West: Late Registration (2005)
13. Al Green: Call Me (1973)
14. Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road (1998)
15. Neil Young & Crazy Horse: Rust Never Sleeps (1979)
16. Freedy Johnston: Can You Fly (1992)
17. Bob Dylan: Blonde on Blonde (1966)
18. Moby: Play (1999)
19. Arcade Fire: Neon Bible (2007)
20. Lucinda Williams: Lucinda Williams (1988)
21. Iris DeMent: My Life (1994)
22. The Beatles: Rubber Soul (1965)
23. DeBarge: In a Special Way (1983)
24. Arto Lindsay: Mundo Civilizado (1997)
25. DJ Shadow: Endtroducing . . . DJ Shadow (1996)
26. Bob Dylan: “Love and Theft” (2001)
27. The Band: Music From Big Pink (1968)
28. Television: Marquee Moon (1977)
29. John Coltrane: A Love Supreme (1964)
30. The Mekons: Fear & Whiskey (1985)
31. Tricky: Maxinquaye (1995)
32. The Rolling Stones: Some Girls (1978)
33. Franco & Rochereau: Omona Wapi (1985)
34. X: Wild Gift (1981)
35. Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic (1974)
36. Ornette Coleman: Of Human Feelings (1982)
37. Prince: Sign 'O' the Times (1987)
38. Liz Phair: Exile in Guyville (1993)
39. Drive-By Truckers: Brighter Than Creation’s Dark (2008)
40. Eno: Another Green World (1976)
41. Wussy: Funeral Dress (2005)
42. Ray Charles: Modern Sounds in Country & Western Music (1962)
43. L.L. Cool J: Mama Said Knock You Out (1990)
44. The Mekons: The Mekons Rock 'n' Roll (1989)
45. Jimi Hendrix: Are You Experienced? (1967)
46. Fugees: The Score (1996)
47. Guitar Paradise of East Africa (1991)
48. Elvis Costello and the Attractions: Trust (1981)
49. Marshall Crenshaw: Field Day (1983)
50. Graham Parker & the Rumour: Squeezing Out Sparks (1979)
51. Nick Lowe: Pure Pop for Now People (1978)
52. Paul Simon: Paul Simon (1972)
53. Aretha Franklin: Lady Soul (1968)
54. Public Enemy: It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988)
55. Randy Newman: 12 Songs (1970)
56. The Robert Cray Band: Strong Persuader (1986)
57. The Moldy Peaches: The Moldy Peaches (2001)
58. Kanye West: The College Dropout (2004)
59. Nirvana: In Utero (1993)
60. Joe Cocker: Joe Cocker! (1969)
61. Neil Young: Tonight's the Night (1975)
62. Mzwakhe Mbuli: Resistance Is Defence (1992)
63. Luna: Penthouse (1995)
64. Latin Playboys: Latin Playboys (1994)
65. King Sunny Adé and His African Beats: Juju Music (1982)
66. Sly & the Family Stone: There's a Riot Goin' On (1971)
67. Sonic Youth: A Thousand Leaves (1998)
68. Brad Paisley: American Saturday Night (2009)
69. Jimmy Cliff et al.: The Harder They Come (1973)
70. Bob Dylan: Modern Times (2006)
71. Laurie Anderson: Strange Angels (1989)
72. Sonny Rollins: G-Man (1987)
73. Bob Dylan: Bringin' It All Back Home (1965)
74. Talking Heads: Remain in Light (1980)
75. The Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs (1999)
76. The New York Dolls: In Too Much Too Soon (1974)
77. Orchestra Baobab: Specialists in All Styles (2002)
78. The Beatles: Revolver (1966)
79. The Replacements: Let It Be (1984)
80. Amy Rigby: Diary of a Mod Housewife (1996)
81. P.J. Harvey: Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea (2000)
82. Aretha Franklin: Who's Zoomin' Who? (1985)
83. Beastie Boys: Licensed to Ill (1986)
84. Sex Pistols: Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex Pistols (1977)
85. Sleater-Kinney: Dig Me Out (1997)
86. The Mekons: OOOH! (2002)
87. The Wild Tchoupitoulas: The Wild Tchoupitoulas (1976)
88. Billy Bragg & Wilco: Mermaid Avenue (1998)
89. Liz Phair: Liz Phair (2003)
90. Fleetwood Mac: Rumours (1977)
91. John Prine: In Spite of Ourselves (1999)
92. Culture: Two Sevens Clash (1987)
93. Youssou N’Dour: Egypt (2004)
94. Aretha Franklin: I Never Loved A Man (1967)
95. Beck: Mellow Gold (1994)
96. Creedence Clearwater Revival: Willy and the Poor Boys (1969)
97. Bob Dylan: Highway '61 Revisited (1965)
98. Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane: At Carnegie Hall (2005)
98. English Beat: Wha'ppen? (1981)
99. Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band: Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band (1976)
100. DJ Shadow: The Private Press (2002)
101. Archers of Loaf: Vee Vee (1995)
102. Marshall Crenshaw: Marshall Crenshaw (1982)
103. The Rolling Stones: Out of Our Heads (1965)
104. Laurie Anderson: United States Live (1984)
105. Joni Mitchell: For the Roses (1972)
106. The Rolling Stones: Beggar's Banquet (1968)
107. James Blood Ulmer: Odyssey (1983)
108. Gogol Bordello: Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike (2005)
109. Tom Waits: Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards (2006)
110. Nirvana: Nevermind (1991)
111. Patti Smith: Horses (1975)
112. Rod Stewart: Every Picture Tells a Story (1971)
113. Sonic Youth: Daydream Nation (1988)
114. The Wailers: Burnin' (1974)
115. Van Morrison: Moondance (1970)
116. Yo La Tengo: I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One (1997)
117. The Go-Betweens: Oceans Apart (2005)
118. The Clash: The Clash (1979)
119. Talking Heads: More Songs About Buildings and Food (1978)
120. Leonard Cohen: Live in London (2009)
121. Prince: Dirty Mind (1980)
122. PJ Harvey: Rid of Me (1993)
123. The New York Dolls: The New York Dolls (1973)
124. Ghostface Killah: Fishscale (2006)
125. The Go-Betweens: The Friends of Rachel Worth (2000)
126. Neil Young: Freedom (1989)
127. L7: Bricks Are Heavy (1992)
128. Pixies: Bossanova (1990)
129. Bonnie Raitt: Give It Up (1972)
130. Todd Snider: East Nashville Skyline (2004)
131. Blondie: Parallel Lines (1978)
132. Cornershop: When I Was Born for the 7th Time (1997)
133. The Velvet Underground: The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)
134. De La Soul: Buhloone Mindstate (1993)
135. Rosanne Cash: Black Cadillac (2006)
136. Fluffy: Black Eye (1996)
137. Gram Parsons: Grievous Angel (1974)
138. OutKast: Stankonia (2000)
139. Kimya Dawson: I’m Sorry That Sometimes I’m Mean (2002)
140. Miles Davis: Bitches Brew (1969)
141. Hüsker Dü: Flip Your Wig (1985)
142. James Carter: The Real Quietstorm (1995)
143. Sleater-Kinney: The Woods (2005)
144. John Prine: Sweet Revenge (1973)
145. Cornershop: Handcream for a Generation (2002)
146. Buffalo Springfield: Buffalo Springfield (1966)
147. Kate & Anna McGarrigle: Dancer with Bruised Knees (1977)
148. George Clinton: Computer Games (1982)
149. Van Morrison: Astral Weeks (1968)
150. Rilo Kiley: More Adventurous (2004)
151. Loudon Wainwright III: Hide, Wide & Handsome: The Charlie Poole Project (2009)
152. Gang of Four: Solid Gold (1981)
153. Bonnie Raitt: Home Plate (1975)
154. Wussy: Left for Dead (2007)
155. Tricky: Blowback (2001)
156. Lauryn Hill: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (1998)
157. Lou Reed: New Sensations (1984)
158. Lucinda Williams: Sweet Old World (1992)
159. The Coup: Party Music (2001)
160. Todd Snider: The Devil You Know (2006)
161. Neil Young: After the Gold Rush (1970)
162. Old 97's: Fight Songs (1999)
163. Ornette Coleman: In All Languages (1987)
164. Buck 65: Talkin' Honky Blues (2003)
165. Otis Redding: Otis Blue (1965)
166. Linton Kwesi Johnson: Tings an' Times (1991)
167. Pere Ubu: Dub Housing (1979)
168. Orchestra Baobab: Made in Dakar (2008)
169. Ramones: Ramones (1976)
170. Remmy Ongala & Orchestre Super Matimila: Songs for the Poor Man (1989)
171. TV On The Radio: Dear Science (2008)
172. M.I.A.: Arular (2005)
173. Sonic Youth: Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star (1984)
174. The Blasters: Non Fiction (1983)
175. The Pogues: Rum Sodomy & the Lash (1986)
176. The Who: Who's Next (1971)
177. Aretha Franklin: Young, Gifted and Black (1972)
178. Bob Marley & the Wailers: Natty Dread (1975)
179. OutKast: Speakerboxx/The Love Below (2003)
180. Pere Ubu: The Tenement Year (1988)
181. The Beatles: Abbey Road (1969)
182. Old 97’s: Satellite Rides (2001)
183. The Rolling Stones: Flowers (1967)
184. Bob Dylan: Under the Red Sky (1990)
185. English Beat: Special Beat Service (1982)
186. Graham Parker: Howlin Wind (1976)
187. Youssou N’Dour: Nothing’s in Vain (2002)
188. Conor Oberst: Conor Oberst (2008)
189. James Brown: Sex Machine (1970)
190. Jimmie Dale Gilmore: Spinning Around the Sun (1993)
191. John Lennon: Imagine (1971)
192. Joni Mitchell: Court and Spark (1974)
193. Gogol Bordello: Super Taranta! (2007)
194. Liz Phair: Whitechocolatespaceegg (1998)
195. Los Lobos: How Will the Wolf Survive? (1984)
196. Jon Langford: All the Fame of Lofty Deeds (2004)
197. Jimi Hendrix: Electric Ladyland (1968)
198. Lou Reed: Legendary Hearts (1983)
199. Amy Rigby: Little Fugitives (2005)
200. The Klezmatics: Wonder Wheel: Lyrics by Woody Guthrie (2006)
201. Neil Young: Comes a Time (1978)
202. Paul Simon: Graceland (1986)
203. The Wrens: The Meadowlands (2003)
204. Pavement: Slanted and Enchanted (1992)
205. Nirvana: MTV Unplugged in New York (1994)
206. The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds (1966)
207. Pavement: Wowee Zowee (1995)
208. Lucinda Williams: World Without Tears (2003)
209. K’naan: The Dusty Foot Philosopher (2008)
210. Le Tigre: Le Tigre (1999)
211. Jungle Brothers: Done by the Forces of Nature (1989)
212. Pete Townshend: Empty Glass (1980)
213. Ramones: Rocket to Russia (1977)
214. Rosanne Cash: Interiors (1991)
215. Sonic Youth: Sister (1987)
216. The Apples in Stereo: New Magnetic Wonder (2007)
217. The Sonny Sharrock Band: Highlife (1991)
218. Stevie Wonder: Innervisions (1973)
219. The Hold Steady: Separation Sunday (2005)
220. The Beautiful South: Blue Is the Colour (1996)
221. The Clash: Sandinista! (1981)
222. The Replacements: Tim (1985)
223. The Mountain Goats: We Shall All Be Released (2004)
224. Les Amazones de Guinee: Wamato (2008)
225. Van Morrison: Into the Music (1979)
226. Beastie Boys: Paul's Boutique (1989)
227. Bob Dylan: Blood on the Tracks (1975)
228. The Flying Burrito Brothers: Gilded Palace of Sin (1969)
229. Fountains of Wayne: Traffic and Weather (2007)
230. The Notorious B.I.G.: Life After Death (1997)
231. Heartbeat of Soweto (1988)
232. Creedence Clearwater Revival: Cosmo's Factory (1970)
233. Nellie McKay: Normal as Blueberry Pie: A Tribute To Doris Day (2009)
234. Sonic Youth: Rather Ripped (2006)
235. Bob Dylan: John Wesley Harding (1968)
236. Elvis Costello and the Attractions: This Year’s Model (1978)
237. The Go-Betweens: Tallulah (1987)
238. Rilo Kiley: Under the Backlight (2007)
239. George Clinton: You Shouldn't-Nuf Bit Fish (1983)
240. Loudon Wainwright III: Career Moves (1993)
241. The Mountain Goats: Tallahassee (2002)
242. Raphael Saadiq: The Way I See It (2008)
243. Lynyrd Skynyrd: Pronounced Leh-nerd Skeh-nerd (1973)
244. Ike & Tina Turner: River Deep Mountain High (1966)
245. Madonna: I'm Breathless (1990)
246. Johnny Cash: American IV: The Man Comes Around (2002)
247. King Sunny Adé and His African Beats: Aura (1984)
248. The Beach Boys: Wild Honey (1967)
249. Hüsker Dü: Candy Apple Grey (1986)
250. Lily Allen: It’s Not Me, It’s You (2009)
251. Holy Modal Rounders: Too Much Fun (1999)
252. Manfred Mann's Earth Band: Manfred Mann's Earth Band (1972)
253. Nick Lowe: Labour of Lust (1979)
254. Ornette Coleman and Prime Time: Virgin Beauty (1988)
255. Parliament: Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome (1977)
256. Sonic Youth: NYC Ghosts and Flowers (2000)
257. Pavement: Brighten the Corners (1997)
258. Peter Stampfel: You Must Remember This . . . (1995)
259. Professor Longhair: Crawfish Fiesta (1980)
260. R.E.M.: Out of Time (1991)
261. Randy Newman: Good Old Boys (1974)
262. Maria Muldaur: Heart of Mine: Love Songs of Bob Dylan (2006)
263. Randy Newman: Harps and Angels (2008)
264. Richard & Linda Thompson: Shoot Out the Lights (1982)
265. The Rolling Stones: Tattoo You (1981)
266. Scritti Politti: Cupid & Psyche ’85 (1985)
267. Sleater-Kinney: Call the Doctor (1996)
268. Sonic Youth: Dirty (1992)
269. Stevie Wonder: Songs in the Key of Life (1976)
270. Sleater-Kinney: One Beat (2002)
271. The Coup: Steal This Album (1998)
272. Les Savy Fav: Let's Stay Friends (2007)
273. The Rolling Stones: Sticky Fingers (1971)
274. Ambitious Lovers: Greed (1988)
275. James Carter: Gardenias for Lady Day (2003)
276. OutKast: Idlewild (2006)
277. Pavement: Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (1994)
278. Aretha Franklin: Spirit in the Dark (1970)
279. Big Star: Radio City (1974)
280. Bonnie Raitt: Luck of the Draw (1991)
281. Amy Rigby: Til the Wheels Fall Off (2003)
282. Bruce Springsteen: Tunnel of Love (1987)
283. The Who: Tommy (1969)
284. Ray Charles: Genius Loves Company (2004)
285. De La Soul: 3 Feet High and Rising (1989)
286. Elvis Costello and the Attractions: Blood and Chocolate (1986)
287. Fleetwood Mac: Fleetwood Mac (1975)
288. Our New Orleans: A Benefit Album for the Gulf Coast (2005)
289. Dr. John: Right Place, Right Time (2006)
290. The Byrds: Sweetheart of the Rodeo (1968)
291. Funkadelic: One Nation Under a Groove (1978)
292. Hole: Live Through This (1994)
293. James Carter: Conversin' With the Elders (1996)
294. Warren Zevon: The Wind (2003)
295. Gang of Four: Entertainment! (1980)
296. John Prine: Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings (1995)
297. Joni Mitchell: Blue (1971)
298. Lynyrd Skynyrd: Street Survivors (1977)
299. Michael Jackson: Off the Wall (1979)
300. Miles Davis: Agharta (1976)
301. Balkan Beat Box: Nu Med (2007)
302. P.M. Dawn: The Bliss Album . . . ? (1993)
303. Prince and the Revolution: Purple Rain (1984)
304. R.E.M.: Murmur (1983)
305. Kid Creole and the Coconuts: Wise Guy (1982)
306. Lou Reed: Ecstasy (2000)
307. Ornette Coleman: Sound Grammar (2006)
308. Amadou & Mariam: Dimanche a Bamako (2005)
309. The Rolling Stones: Aftermath (1966)
310. Latin Playboys: Dose (1999)
311. PJ Harvey: Is This Desire? (1998)
312. Bright Eyes: Cassadaga (2007)
313. Psychedelic Furs: Talk Talk Talk (1981)
314. Talking Heads: Little Creatures (1985)
315. The White Stripes: White Blood Cells (2001)
316. The Roots: Rising Down (2008)
317. The Roches: A Dove (1992)
318. Alberta Hunter: Amtrak Blues (1980)
319. Andy Fairweather Low: Spider Jiving (1974)
320. Arthur Blythe: Lenox Avenue Breakdown (1979)
321. Black Uhuru: Anthem (1984)
322. Joanna Newsom: The Milk-Eyed Mender (2004)
323. The Rolling Stones: Let It Bleed (1969)
324. The Chills: Submarine Bells (1990)
325. The Songs of Jimmie Rodgers--A Tribute Album (1997)
326. The Wailers: Catch a Fire (1972)
327. David Bowie: Station to Station (1976)
328. Donald Fagen: The Nightfly (1982)
329. Elvis Costello: My Aim Is True (1977)
330. Feelies: Time for a Witness (1991)
331. Iris DeMent: The Way I Should (1996)
332. Lost in the Stars: The Music of Kurt Weill (1985)
333. Pink: Mizzundaztood (2001)
334. Black Uhuru: Red (1981)
335. John Lennon: Plastic Ono Band (1970)
336. Joy of Cooking: Joy of Cooking (1971)
337. Kid Creole and the Coconuts: Doppelganger (1983)
338. John Trudell: AKA Graffiti Man (1992)
339. Steve Earle: Jerusalem (2002)
340. M People: Elegant Slumming (1994)
341. Mary Lou Lord: Got No Shadow (1998)
342. PJ Harvey: To Bring You My Love (1965)
343. Johnny Cash: At Folsom Prison (1968)
344. Public Enemy: Fear of a Black Planet (1990)
345. Randy Newman: Bad Love (1999)
346. Steely Dan: Katy Lied (1975)
347. Amy Allison: No Frills Friend (2003)
348. The Waco Brothers: Electric Waco Chair (2000)
349. Steve Earle: Guitar Town (1986)
350. The Neville Brothers: Yellow Moon (1989)
351. Bruce Springsteen: Born to Run (1975)
352. Aretha Franklin: Soul '69 (1969)
353. Archers of Loaf: Icky Mettle (1993)
354. Wire: Pink Flag (1978)
355. Steely Dan: Can't Buy a Thrill (1972)
356. Sly & Robbie: Rhythm Killers (1987)
357. Caetano Velosa: A Foreign Sound (2004)
358. Al Green: Livin' for You (1973)
359. Mahlathini & Mahotella Queens: Paris-Soweto (1988)
360. Burning Spear: Marcus Garvey (1976)
361. Camper Van Beethoven: Camper Van Beethoven (1986)
362. Eric Clapton: 461 Ocean Boulevard (1974)
363. Folkways: A Vision Shared--A Tribute to Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly (1988)
364. Ice-T: O.G.: Original Gangster (1991)
365. John Lennon/Yoko Ono: Double Fantasy (1980)
366. Lou Reed: New York (1989)
367. Marvin Gaye: Midnight Love (1982)
368. Ornette Coleman: Dancing in Your Head (1977)
369. Mary J. Blige: Share My World (1997)
370. Pet Shop Boys: Very (1993)
371. Steely Dan: Countdown to Ecstasy (1973)
372. Linton Kwesi Johnson: Making History (1984)
373. Los Lobos: Colossal Head (1996)
374. P.M. Dawn: Dearest Christian, I'm So Very Sorry for Bringing You Here (1998)
375. Courtney Love: America’s Sweetheart (2004)
376. Stevie Wonder: Talking Book (1972)
377. Sugar: File Under: Easy Listening (1994)
378. The B-52's: The B-52's (1979)
379. The Strokes: Is This It? (2001)
380. Sonic Youth: Goo (1990)
381. The Jesus and Mary Chain: Psychocandy (1985)
382. Q-Tip: Amplified (1999)
383. The Mahavishnu Orchestra: The Inner Mounting Flame (1971)
384. ABC: The Lexicon of Love (1982)
385. Al Green: The Belle Album (1977)
386. Aretha Franklin: A Rose Is Still a Rose (1998)
387. Arto Lindsay/Ambitious Lovers: Envy (1984)
388. Bob Dylan / The Band: Before the Flood (1974)
389. Chic: Real People (1980)
390. The Grateful Dead: Aoxomoxoa (1969)
391. Digable Planets: Reachin' (A New Refutation of Time and Space) (1993)
392. The Libertines: Up the Bracket (2003)
393. Freedy Johnston: Never Home (1997)
394. Joe Ely: Honky Tonk Masquerade (1978)
395. The New Pornographers: Twin Cinema (2005)
396. Papa Wemba: Emotion (1995)
397. The Blasters: Hard Line (1985)
398. Michelle Shocked: Short Sharp Shocked (1988)
399. Cheb I Sabbah: La Kahena (2005)
400. The Sonny Sharrock Band: Seize the Rainbow (1987)
401. Tom Verlaine: Dreamtime (1981)
402. Beats International: Let Them Eat Bingo (1990)
403. Lily Allen: Alright, Still (2007)
404. Sufjan Stevens: Illinois (2005)
405. The Goats: Tricks of the Shade (1992)
406. Yo La Tengo: Electr-O-Pura (1995)
407. The Vibrators: Pure Mania (1978)
408. Willie Nelson & Asleep at the Wheel: Willie and the Wheel (2009)
409. The Velvet Underground: Loaded (1970)
410. Graham Parker: Heat Treatment (1976)
411. John Prine: John Prine (1971)
412. Ani DiFranco: Knuckle Down (2005)
413. The Streets: The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living (2006)
414. Mississippi John Hurt: Last Sessions (1972)
415. Jonathan Richman & the Modern Lovers: Jonathan Sings! (1983)
416. Pere Ubu: Cloudland (1989)
417. P.M. Dawn: Of the Heart, of the Soul and of the Cross: The Utopian Experience (1991)
418. The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy: Hypocrisy is the Greatest Luxury (1992)
419. The Grateful Dead: Workingman's Dead (1970)
420. The Housemartins: The People Who Grinned Themselves to Death (1987)
421. The Blasters: The Blasters (1981)
422. Frank London’s Klezmer Brass Allstars: Carnival Conspiracy (2006)
423. The Who: Quadrophenia (1973)
424. The White Stripes: Icky Thump (2007)
425. Toots & the Maytals: Funky Kingston (1975)
426. Victoria Williams: Loose (1994)
427. Willie Nelson: Spirit (1996)
428. Bill Withers: Still Bill (1972)
429. Bob Dylan: Time Out of Mind (1997)
430. Kate & Anna McGarrigle: The McGarrigle Hour (1998)
431. Minutemen: 3-Way Tie for Last (1985)
432. Muddy Waters: Hard Again (1977)
433. Roxy Music: Siren (1975)
434. The Allman Brothers: Brothers and Sisters (1973)
435. Tom Verlaine: Tom Verlaine (1979)
436. The Roches: The Roches (1979)
437. Buddy Guy: Sweet Tea (2001)
438. They Might Be Giants: They Might Be Giants (1986)
439. Tom Waits: Swordfishtrombones (1983)
440. Beck: Odelay (1996)
441. Bonnie Raitt: Bonnie Raitt (1971)
442. The Band: The Band (1969)
443. Kasey Chambers: Barricades and Brickwalls (2002)
444. Eno: Here Come the Warm Jets (1974)
445. Hurricane Zouk (1988)
446. John McLaughlin: Devotion (1970)
447. Keith Whitley: I Wonder Do You Think of Me (1989)
448. Kate and Anna McGarrigle: Kate and Anna McGarrigle (1976)
449. Mekons: Curse of the Mekons (1991)
450. Prince: 1999 (1982)
451. Lil Wayne: Da Drought 3 (2007)
452. Public Image Ltd.: Second Edition (1980)
453. Steve Earle and the Del McCoury Band: The Mountain (1999)
454. The Beautiful South: 0898 Beautiful South (1992)
455. Thomas Mapfumo: Ndangariro (1984)
456. Tom Verlaine: Flash Light (1987)
457. UB 40: Rat in the Kitchen (1986)
458. Warren Zevon: Excitable Boy (1978)
459. Al Green: Al Green Gets Next to You (1971)
460. X: More Fun in the New World (1983)
461. Belle and Sebastian: The Boy With the Arab Strap (1998)
462. John Prine: Common Sense (1975)
463. The Pretenders: The Pretenders (1979)
464. Jon Hassell/Brian Eno: Fourth World Vol. 1: Possible Musics (1980)
465. Kate & Anna McGarrigle: Love Over and Over (1983)
466. Drive-By Truckers: Decoration Day (2003)
467. Belle and Sebastian: The Life Pursuit (2006)
468. Mother Earth: Make a Joyful Noise (1969)
469. Living Colour: Time's Up (1990)
470. Lynyrd Skynyrd: Second Helping (1974)
471. Michael Jackson: Thriller (1982)
472. The Robert Cray Band: I Was Warned (1992)
473. Van Morrison: His Band & the Street Choir (1970)
474. Willie Nelson: Stardust (1978)
475. Ani DiFranco: Dilate (1996)
476. Pat Metheny/Ornette Coleman: Song X (1986)
477. Led Zeppelin: Led Zeppelin IV (1971)
478. Rank and File: Sundown (1982)
479. The Pretenders: Learning to Crawl (1984)
480. The Go-Betweens: 16 Lovers Lane (1988)
481. The Velvet Underground: The Velvet Underground (1969)
482. Robert Forster: The Evangelist (2008)
483. Talking Heads: Speaking in Tongues (1983)
484. The Modern Lovers: The Modern Lovers (1976)
485. The dB's: Like This (1984)
486. Pulp: Different Class (1996)
487. Patti Smith: Dream of Life (1988)
488. Pulnoc: City of Hysteria (1991)
489. Curtis Mayfield: Superfly (1972)
490. Richard Hell and the Voidoids: Blank Generation (1977)
491. The Housemartins: London 0, Hull 4 (1986)
492. The Insect Trust: Hoboken Saturday Night (1970)
493. Jimi Hendrix: The Cry of Love (1971)
494. Dusty Springfield: Dusty in Memphis (1969)
495. Tom Waits: Mule Variations (1999)
496. B.B. King: Live in Cook County Jail (1971)
497. Ramones: Too Tough to Die (1984)
498. Hayes Carll: Trouble in Mind (2008)
499. Carole King: Tapestry (1971)
500. Merle Haggard: If I Could Only Fly (2000)

And that's all folks...

2010-08-07T00:52:00.012-04:00

A Fond Farewell.

It was February 1983. I was working in lower Manhattan and it was a Friday – payday, my favorite day. As I was want to do, I cashed my check and headed down to J&R Music World to pick up a few records. On my way I stopped at a news stand and noticed the cover of The Village Voice. There was a feature titled, “Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome.” I picked it up, turned to the feature column, and that was the first time I had ever read anything by Robert Christgau.

It was the annual Pazz & Jop critics’ poll, and Christgau was the self-appointed “Dean” of the critics, writing about the past year in music. What I remember most about that column was how I couldn’t seem to put it down. The writing was mesmerizing. I had read other critics before – my current favorite had been Wayne Robbins of Newsday – but seldom had I seen such a socio-political take on what I had always perceived as basically an entertainment industry. Christgau wasn’t so much talking about the music as he was talking about what it meant socially and sometimes politically. He could see past the mere album tracks and get at the heart of what drove the music, and more importantly perhaps what the music might be driving back. In a sense he was more a music sociologist than a mere music critic.

I soon learned he wrote a monthly column called The Consumer Guide, in which he would write reviews of various records he had listened to. Each month I would pick up a copy of The Village Voice and read his reviews, each one entertaining and instructional at the same time. There were two themes that I came to accept about his writing that have been a constant: One, he considered all genres, with the exception of metal to be equally important and vital to pop music; and secondly, he could be brutally honest. If a record was bad, he had no qualms about saying so. He had always felt it his duty to speak his mind, regardless of whom it might upset.

And make no mistake about it, Christgau pissed off a lot of artists. When he panned a Lou Reed album in the ‘70s, Reed went after him on one of his later songs. In typical Christgau fashion, he took it in stride, giving the record a C plus, which probably only pissed Reed off more. Ironically throughout the ‘80s, Reed released a number of albums that garnered considerable praise from Christgau, including The Blue Mask and Legendary Hearts, acknowledged by many critics to be among his finest recordings.

Month after month and year after year I religiously read Christgau, in the process expanding both my record collection and my understanding of popular music. Though formally a rock critic, he was the least complimentary of rock music, preferring genres such as funk, new wave, world music, reggae, alt-country, jazz and rap, which would later go on to be known as hip hop. I credit him for expanding my horizons beyond the typical middle-class white suburban humdrum lifestyle that many of my friends had found themselves trapped in. The ‘80s was a treasure trove of musical delights from the likes of Kid Creole & the Coconuts, George Clinton, Hüsker Dü, Prince, Grandmaster Flash, Tom Verlaine, Tom Waits, Ornette Coleman, James Blood Ulmer, Lucinda Williams, the Mekons, Bruce Springsteen, Michael Jackson, R.E.M., Black Uhuru, Laurie Anderson, Madonna, Public Enemy, Sonic Youth, John Prine and more. Eclectic would be a word in a half. It was controlled chaos and I was lapping it up like a starving puppy dog.

And throughout all the many months and years of writing reviews, which included three books on the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s, Christgau never wavered or lost his edge. Well into his 60s he remained the industry’s most authentic and consistent critic with no one fit to dust his record collection let alone hold a candle to him. Not even being fired from the Voice in 2006 deterred him. He continued to publish his work on MSN, Blender, Spin and Rolling Stone in the same manner with which he had become acclaimed at the Voice.

But as they say all good things must eventually come to an end. On July 1, 2010, Christgau announced in the introduction to his Consumer Guide column that the July 2010 installment would be his last on MSN.

“Barring miracles unlikely to ensue, this is the final edition of Christgau's Consumer Guide, which MSN has decided no longer suits its editorial purposes. The CG has generally required a seven-days-a-week time commitment over the 41 years I've written it, and I'm grateful to MSN for paying me what the work was worth over the three-and-a-half years I published it here. But though I always enjoyed the work, work it was, and I've long been aware there were other things I could be doing with my ears. So while I have every intention of keeping up with popular music as it evolves, being less encyclopedic about it will come as a relief as well as a loss.”

Whether this means that Christgau is hanging up his typewriter or just cutting back from his workload remains to be seen. Writing consistently honest and provocative music reviews for over four decades can take its toll on anybody, and if there was ever anyone who earned his retirement more it would be Christgau. He probably would think it overly sentimental to say this, but better to go out on top with one’s reputation unscathed than to trudge along, eking out a living and selling out to the very industry that gave you your start.

And that’s why I think we may have seen the last of Robert Christgau, at least so far as doing monthly reviews are concerned. Though he may occasionally reappear on NPR and do the odd review or two for Rolling Stone, this is likely to be the end of the line for this giant, and I for one will miss him greatly. At 68 he had reached the zenith of his profession and though he continued to piss off artists whose albums he found, shall we say, wanting, no one could doubt his integrity. If it’s true that you call ‘em as you see ‘em, than Robert Christgau was truly a diamond in the rough who had no peers.

There's no adequate way to express or calculate what impact the retirement of Robert Christgau will have on popular music. The industry has lost a legend, and I suspect we will not see his kind for a long time, if at all. In deed with the changes that are currently going on in the music industry – the rise of the MP3 player and iTunes – the CD itself may be all but instinct in a few years. The need for a critic to review an album at that point will most likely be moot.

There's a scene from the end of the movie Patton that seems a fitting analogy to what has transpired here. The general's own words sum it up best. “There’s only way for a professional soldier to die; that’s from the last bullet from the last gun from the last battle of the last war.” Robert Christgau has not died, but what he did for a living, whether any of us knew it or not, or even whether any of us liked it or not, was rapidly dying before him and us. Perhaps this was his way of bowing out gracefully while he still had some control of his destiny. We may never know.

What we do know is this: he left us a lifetime of reviews that will survive him and future generations of music fans. And I suspect that when we look back over the last four decades of rock and roll, we will be the wiser and richer for having known him and for allowing him, in some small capacity, to expand and enlarge our world and make it a bit less predicable. I will miss his wit, his humor (biting though it may have been), his thoroughness, his honesty, but most of all I will miss the diversity he brought to a craft that far too often settled for the familiar and safe, and which rarely, if ever, pushed the envelope passed the confines of the tried and tested. Christgau was nothing if unorthodox.

Over the many years, the artists may have changed, but Christgau was always there to catalogue it all for us. It's hard to imagine what this industry would've been like had he not been here, and now we get the chance to find out. You could say we took him for granted, but I suspect at the end of the day we will all miss him.

Farewell, Robert, and thank you.

2009-02-06T18:09:00.014-05:00

Four Decades, Four Hundred Albums

I've been thinking about this list now for quite some time. I compiled the list from top album lists I had compiled going back years. I have listened to all of these albums and own most of them in either record, CD or MP3 format.

When this decade is done in 11 months I will update it and rename it Five Decades, Five Hundred Albums.

The Rolling Stones: Exile on Main Street (1972)
The Indestructible Beat of Soweto (1986)
David Murray: Shakill's Warrior (1991)
The Grateful Dead: Live / Dead (1969)
Miles Davis: A Tribute to Jack Johnson (1971)
The Clash: London Calling (1980)
The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)
Bruce Springsteen: Born in the U.S.A. (1984)
Derek & the Dominos: Layla (1970)
Bob Dylan/The Band: The Basement Tapes (1975)
Al Green: Call Me (1973)
Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road (1998)
Neil Young & Crazy Horse: Rust Never Sleeps (1979)
Freedy Johnston: Can You Fly (1992)
Bob Dylan: Blonde on Blonde (1966)
Moby: Play (1999)
Lucinda Williams: Lucinda Williams (1988)
Iris DeMent: My Life (1994)
The Beatles: Rubber Soul (1965)
DeBarge: In a Special Way (1983)
Arto Lindsay: Mundo Civilizado (1997)
DJ Shadow: Endtroducing . . . DJ Shadow (1996)
The Band: Music From Big Pink (1968)
Television: Marquee Moon (1977)
John Coltrane: A Love Supreme (1964)
The Mekons: Fear & Whiskey (1985)
The Rolling Stones: Some Girls (1978)
Tricky: Maxinquaye (1995)
X: Wild Gift (1981)
Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic (1974)
Ornette Coleman: Of Human Feelings (1982)
Prince: Sign 'O' the Times (1987)
Liz Phair: Exile in Guyville (1993)
Eno: Another Green World (1976)
Ray Charles: Modern Sounds in Country & Western Music (1962)
L.L. Cool J: Mama Said Knock You Out (1990)
The Mekons: The Mekons Rock 'n' Roll (1989)
Franco & Rochereau: Omona Wapi (1985)
Jimi Hendrix: Are You Experienced? (1967)
Fugees: The Score (1996)
Guitar Paradise of East Africa (1991)
Elvis Costello and the Attractions: Trust (1981)
Marshall Crenshaw: Field Day (1983)
Graham Parker & the Rumour: Squeezing Out Sparks (1979)
Nick Lowe: Pure Pop for Now People (1978)
Paul Simon: Paul Simon (1972)
Aretha Franklin: Lady Soul (1968)
Public Enemy: It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988)
Randy Newman: 12 Songs (1970)
The Robert Cray Band: Strong Persuader (1986)
Nirvana: In Utero (1993)
Joe Cocker: Joe Cocker! (1969)
Neil Young: Tonight's the Night (1975)
Mzwakhe Mbuli: Resistance Is Defence (1992)
Luna: Penthouse (1995)
Latin Playboys: Latin Playboys (1994)
King Sunny Adé and His African Beats: Juju Music (1982)
Jimmy Cliff et al.: The Harder They Come (1973)
Laurie Anderson: Strange Angels (1989)
Red Hot and Blue (1990)
Sly & the Family Stone: There's a Riot Goin' On (1971)
Sonic Youth: A Thousand Leaves (1998)
Sonny Rollins: G-Man (1987)
Bob Dylan: Bringin' It All Back Home (1965)
Talking Heads: Remain in Light (1980)
The Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs (1999)
The New York Dolls: In Too Much Too Soon (1974)
The Beatles: Revolver (1966)
The Replacements: Let It Be (1984)
Amy Rigby: Diary of a Mod Housewife (1996)
Aretha Franklin: Who's Zoomin' Who? (1985)
Beastie Boys: Lisenced to Ill (1986)
Sex Pistols: Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex Pistols (1977)
Sleater-Kinney: Dig Me Out (1997)
The Wild Tchoupitoulas: The Wild Tchoupitoulas (1976)
Billy Bragg & Wilco: Mermaid Avenue (1998)
Fleetwood Mac: Rumours (1977)
John Prine: In Spite of Ourselves (1999)
Culture: Two Sevens Clash (1987)
Aretha Franklin: I Never Loved A Man (1967)
Beck: Mellow Gold (1994)
Creedence Clearwater Revival: Willy and the Poor Boys (1969)
Bob Dylan: Highway '61 Revisited (1966)
Archers of Loaf: Vee Vee (1995)
Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band: Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band (1976)
English Beat: Wha'ppen? (1981)
Marshall Crenshaw: Marshall Crenshaw (1982)
The Rolling Stones: Out of Our Heads (1965)
Laurie Anderson: United States Live (1984)
Joni Mitchell: For the Roses (1972)
The Rolling Stones: Beggar's Banquet (1968)
James Blood Ulmer: Odyssey (1983)
Nirvana: Nevermind (1991)
Patti Smith: Horses (1975)
Rod Stewart: Every Picture Tells a Story (1971)
Sonic Youth: Daydream Nation (1988)
The Wailers: Burnin' (1974)
Van Morrison: Moondance (1970)
Yo La Tengo: I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One (1997)
The Clash: The Clash (1979)
Talking Heads: More Songs About Buildings and Food (1978)
Prince: Dirty Mind (1980)
PJ Harvey: Rid of Me (1993)
The New York Dolls: The New York Dolls (1973)
Neil Young: Freedom (1989)
L7: Bricks Are Heavy (1992)
Pixies: Bossanova (1990)
Bonnie Raitt: Give It Up (1972)
Blondie: Parallel Lines (1978)
Cornershop: When I Was Born for the 7th Time (1997)
The Velvet Underground: The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)
De La Soul: Buhloone Mindstate (1993)
Fluffy: Black Eye (1996)
Gram Parsons: Grievous Angel (1974)
Miles Davis: Bitches Brew (1969)
Hüsker Dü: Flip Your Wig (1985)
James Carter: The Real Quietstorm (1995)
John Prine: Sweet Revenge (1973)
Buffalo Springfield: Buffalo Springfield (1966)
Kate & Anna McGarrigle: Dancer with Bruised Knees (1977)
George Clinton: Computer Games (1982)
Van Morrison: Astral Weeks (1968)
Gang of Four: Solid Gold (1981)
Bonnie Raitt: Home Plate (1975)
Lauryn Hill: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (1998)
Lou Reed: New Sensations (1984)
Lucinda Williams: Sweet Old World (1992)
Neil Young: After the Gold Rush (1970)
Old 97's: Fight Songs (1999)
Ornette Coleman: In All Languages (1987)
Otis Redding: Otis Blue (1965)
Linton Kwesi Johnson: Tings an' Times (1991)
Pere Ubu: Dub Housing (1979)
Ramones: Ramones (1976)
Remmy Ongala & Orchestre Super Matimila: Songs for the Poor Man (1989)
Sonic Youth: Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star (1984)
The Blasters: Non Fiction (1983)
The Pogues: Rum Sodomy & the Lash (1986)
The Who: Who's Next (1971)
Aretha Franklin: Young, Gifted and Black (1972)
Bob Marley & the Wailers: Natty Dread (1975)
Pere Ubu: The Tenement Year (1988)
The Beatles: Abbey Road (1969)
The Rolling Stones: Flowers (1967)
Tom Robinson: Sector 27 (1980)
Bob Dylan: Under the Red Sky (1990)
English Beat: Special Beat Service (1982)
Graham Parker: Howlin Wind (1976)
James Brown: Sex Machine (1970)
Jimmie Dale Gilmore: Spinning Around the Sun (1993)
John Lennon: Imagine (1971)
Joni Mitchell: Court and Spark (1974)
Liz Phair: Whitechocolatespaceegg (1998)
Los Lobos: How Will the Wolf Survive? (1984)
Jimi Hendrix: Electric Ladyland (1968)
Lou Reed: Legendary Hearts (1983)
Neil Young: Comes a Time (1978)
Paul Simon: Graceland (1986)
Pavement: Slanted and Enchanted (1992)
Nirvana: MTV Unplugged in New York (1994)
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds (1966)
Pavement: Wowee Zowee (1995)
Le Tigre: Le Tigre (1999)
Jungle Brothers: Done by the Forces of Nature (1989)
Pete Townshend: Empty Glass (1980)
Ramones: Rocket to Russia (1977)
Rosanne Cash: Interiors (1991)
Sonic Youth: Sister (1987)
The Sonny Sharrock Band: Highlife (1991)
Stevie Wonder: Innervisions (1973)
The Beautiful South: Blue Is the Colour (1996)
The Clash: Sandinista! (1981)
The Replacements: Tim (1985)
Van Morrison: Into the Music (1979)
Beastie Boys: Paul's Boutique (1989)
Bob Dylan: Blood on the Tracks (1975)
The Flying Burrito Brothers: Gilded Palace of Sin (1974)
The Notorious B.I.G.: Life After Death (1997)
Heartbeat of Soweto (1988)
Creedence Clearwater Revival: Cosmo's Factory (1970)
Bob Dylan: John Wesley Harding (1968)
Elvis Costello and the Attractions: This Year’s Model (1978)
The Go-Betweens: Tallulah (1987)
George Clinton: You Shouldn't-Nuf Bit Fish (1983)
Loudon Wainwright III: Career Moves (1993)
Lynyrd Skynyrd: Pronounced Leh-nerd Skeh-nerd (1973)
Ike & Tina Turner: River Deep Mountain High (1966)
Madonna: I'm Breathless (1990)
King Sunny Adé and His African Beats: Aura (1984)
The Beach Boys: Wild Honey (1967)
Hüsker Dü: Candy Apple Grey (1986)
Holy Modal Rounders: Too Much Fun (1999)
Manfred Mann's Earth Band: Manfred Mann's Earth Band (1972)
Nick Lowe: Labour of Lust (1979)
Ornette Coleman and Prime Time: Virgin Beauty (1988)
Parliament: Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome (1977)
Pavement: Brighten the Corners (1997)
Peter Stampfel: You Must Remember This . . . (1995)
Professor Longhair: Crawfish Fiesta (1980)
R.E.M.: Out of Time (1991)
Randy Newman: Good Old Boys (1974)
Richard & Linda Thompson: Shoot Out the Lights (1982)
The Rolling Stones: Tattoo You (1981)
Scritti Politti: Cupid & Psyche ’85 (1985)
Sleater-Kinney: Call the Doctor (1996)
Sonic Youth: Dirty (1992)
Stevie Wonder: Songs in the Key of Life (1976)
The Coup: Steal This Album (1998)
The Rolling Stones: Sticky Fingers (1971)
Ambitious Lovers: Greed (1998)
Pavement: Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (1994)
Aretha Franklin: Spirit in the Dark (1970)
Big Star: Radio City (1974)
Bonnie Raitt: Luck of the Draw (1991)
Bruce Springsteen: Tunnel of Love (1987)
The Who: Tommy (1969)
De La Soul: 3 Feet High and Rising (1989)
Elvis Costello and the Attractions: Blood and Chocolate (1986)
Fleetwood Mac: Fleetwood Mac (1975)
The Byrds: Sweetheart of the Rodeo (1968)
Funkadelic: One Nation Under a Groove (1978)
Hole: Live Through This (1994)
James Carter: Conversin' With the Elders (1996)
Gang of Four: Entertainment! (1980)
John Prine: Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings (1995)
Joni Mitchell: Blue (1971)
Lynyrd Skynyrd: Street Survivors (1977)
Michael Jackson: Off the Wall (1979)
Miles Davis: Agharta (1976)
P.M. Dawn: The Bliss Album . . . ? (1993)
Prince and the Revolution: Purple Rain (1984)
R.E.M.: Murmur (1983)
Kid Creole and the Coconuts: Wise Guy (1982)
The Rolling Stones: Aftermath (1966)
Latin Playboys: Dose (1999)
PJ Harvey: Is This Desire? (1998)
Psychedelic Furs: Talk Talk Talk (1981)
Neil Young: Time Fades Away (1973)
Talking Heads: Little Creatures (1985)
The Roches: A Dove (1992)
Alberta Hunter: Amtrak Blues (1980)
Andy Fairweather Low: Spider Jiving (1974)
Arthur Blythe: Lenox Avenue Breakdown (1979)
Black Uhuru: Anthem (1984)
The Rolling Stones: Let It Bleed (1969)
The Chills: Submarine Bells (1990)
The Songs of Jimmie Rodgers--A Tribute Album (1997)
The Wailers: Catch a Fire (1972)
David Bowie: Station to Station (1976)
Donald Fagen: The Nightfly (1982)
Elvis Costello: My Aim Is True (1977)
Feelies: The Time for a Witness (1991)
Iris DeMent: The Way I Should (1996)
Lost in the Stars: The Music of Kurt Weill (1985)
Black Uhuru: Red (1981)
John Lennon: Plastic Ono Band (1970)
Joy of Cooking: Joy of Cooking (1971)
Kid Creole and the Coconuts: Doppelganger (1983)
John Trudell: AKA Graffiti Man (1992)
M People: Elegant Slumming (1994)
Mary Lou Lord: Got No Shadow (1998)
PJ Harvey: To Bring You My Love (1965)
Johnny Cash: At Folsom Prison (1968)
Public Enemy: Fear of a Black Planet (1990)
Randy Newman: Bad Love (1999)
Steely Dan: Katy Lied (1975)
Steve Earle: Guitar Town (1986)
The Neville Brothers: Yellow Moon (1989)
Bruce Springsteen: Born to Run (1975)
Aretha Franklin: Soul '69 (1969)
Archers of Loaf: Icky Mettle (1993)
Wire: Pink Flag (1978)
Steely Dan: Can't Buy a Thrill (1972)
Sly & Robbie: Rhythm Killers (1987)
Al Green: Livin' for You (1973)
Mahlathini & Mahotella Queens: Paris-Soweto (1988)
Burning Spear: Marcus Garvey (1976)
Camper Van Beethoven: Camper Van Beethoven (1986)
Eric Clapton: 461 Ocean Boulevard (1974)
Folkways: A Vision Shared--A Tribute to Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly (1988)
Ice-T: O.G.: Original Gangster (1991)
John Lennon/Yoko Ono: Double Fantasy (1980)
Lou Reed: New York (1989)
Marvin Gaye: Midnight Love (1982)
Ornette Coleman: Dancing in Your Head (1977)
Mary J. Blige: Share My World (1997)
Pablo Moses: In the Future (1983)
Pet Shop Boys: Very (1993)
Steely Dan: Countdown to Ecstasy (1973)
Linton Kwesi Johnson: Making History (1984)
Los Lobos: Colossal Head (1996)
P.M. Dawn: Dearest Christian, I'm So Very Sorry for Bringing You Here (1998)
Stevie Wonder: Talking Book (1972)
Sugar: File Under: Easy Listening (1994)
The B-52's: The B-52's (1979)
The Kinks: The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society (1968)
Sonic Youth: Goo (1990)
The Jesus and Mary Chain: Psychocandy (1985)
Q-Tip: Amplified (1999)
The Mahavishnu Orchestra: The Inner Mounting Flame (1971)
ABC: The Lexicon of Love (1982)
Al Green: The Belle Album (1977)
Aretha Franklin: A Rose Is Still a Rose (1998)
Arto Lindsay/Ambitious Lovers: Envy (1984)
Bob Dylan / The Band: Before the Flood (1974)
Chic: Real People (1980)
The Grateful Dead: Aoxomoxoa (1969)
Digable Planets: Reachin' (A New Refutation of Time and Space) (1993)
Freedy Johnston: Never Home (1997)
Joe Ely: Honky Tonk Masquerade (1978)
Papa Wemba: Emotion (1995)
The Blasters: Hard Line (1985)
Michelle Shocked: Short Sharp Shocked (1988)
The Sonny Sharrock Band: Seize the Rainbow (1987)
Tom Verlaine: Dreamtime (1981)
Beats International: Let Them Eat Bingo (1990)
The Goats: Tricks of the Shade (1992)
Yo La Tengo: Electr-O-Pura (1995)
The Vibrators: Pure Mania (1978)
The Velvet Underground: Loaded (1970)
Graham Parker: Heat Treatment (1976)
John Prine: John Prine (1971)
Mississippi John Hurt: Last Sessions (1972)
Jonathan Richman & the Modern Lovers: Jonathan Sings! (1983)
Pere Ubu: Cloudland (1989)
P.M. Dawn: Of the Heart, of the Soul and of the Cross: The Utopian Experience (1991)
The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy: Hypocrisy is the Greatest Luxury (1992)
The Grateful Dead: Workingman's Dead (1970)
The Housemartins: The People Who Grinned Themselves to Death (1987)
The Blasters: The Blasters (1981)
The Who: Quadrophenia (1973)
Toots & the Maytals: Funky Kingston (1975)
Victoria Williams: Loose (1994)
Willie Nelson: Spirit (1996)
Bill Withers: Still Bill (1972)
Bob Dylan: Time Out of Mind (1997)
Kate & Anna McGarrigle: The McGarrigle Hour (1998)
Minutemen: 3-Way Tie for Last (1985)
Muddy Waters: Hard Again (1977)
Roxy Music: Siren (1975)
The Allman Brothers: Brothers and Sisters (1973)
Tom Verlaine: Tom Verlaine (1979)
The Roches: The Roches (1979)
They Might Be Giants: They Might Be Giants (1986)
Beck: Odelay (1996)
Bonnie Raitt: Bonnie Raitt (1971)
The Band: The Band (1969)
Eno: Here Come the Warm Jets (1974)
Hurricane Zouk (1988)
John McLaughlin: Devotion (1970)
Keith Whitley: I Wonder Do You Think of Me (1989)
Kate and Anna McGarrigle: Kate and Anna McGarrigle (1976)
Mekons: Curse of the Mekons (1991)
Prince: 1999 (1982)
Public Image Ltd.: Second Edition (1980)
Steve Earle and the Del McCoury Band: The Mountain (1999)
The Beautiful South: 0898 Beautiful South (1992)
Thomas Mapfumo: Ndangariro (1984)
Tom Verlaine: Flash Light (1987)
UB 40: Rat in the Kitchen (1986)
Warren Zevon: Excitable Boy (1978)
Al Green: Al Green Gets Next to You (1971)
X: More Fun in the New World (1983)
Belle and Sebastian: The Boy With the Arab Strap (1998)
John Prine: Common Sense (1975)
The Pretenders: The Pretenders (1979)
Jon Hassell/Brian Eno: Fourth World Vol. 1: Possible Musics (1980)
Kate & Anna McGarrigle: Love Over and Over (1983)
Mother Earth: Make a Joyful Noise (1969)
Living Colour: Time's Up (1990)
Lynyrd Skynyrd: Second Helping (1974)
Michael Jackson: Thriller (1982)
The Robert Cray Band: I Was Warned (1992)
Van Morrison: His Band & the Street Choir (1970)
Willie Nelson: Stardust (1978)
Ani DiFranco: Dilate (1996)
Pat Metheny/Ornette Coleman: Song X (1986)
Led Zeppelin: Led Zeppelin IV (1971)
Rank and File: Sundown (1982)
The Pretenders: Learning to Crawl (1984)
The Go-Betweens: 16 Lovers Lane (1988)
The Velvet Underground: The Velvet Underground (1969)
The Robert Cray Band: Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (1988)
Talking Heads: Speaking in Tongues (1983)
The Modern Lovers: The Modern Lovers (1976)
The dB's: Like This (1984)
Pulp: Different Class (1996)
Patti Smith: Dream of Life (1988)
Pulnoc: City of Hysteria (1991)
Curtis Mayfield: Superfly (1972)
Richard Hell and the Voidoids: Blank Generation (1977)
The Housemartins: London 0, Hull 4 (1986)
The Insect Trust: Hoboken Saturday Night (1970)
Jimi Hendrix: The Cry of Love (1971)
Dusty Springfield: Dusty in Memphis (1969)
Tom Waits: Swordfishtrombones (1983)
B.B. King: Live in Cook County Jail (1971)
Ramones: Too Tough to Die (1984)
Otis Redding: Love Man (1969)
Carole King: Tapestry (1971)

2009-02-03T22:17:00.006-05:00

The Day The Music Died

He was only 22 years old when he stepped onto a Beechcraft Bonanza airplane that was going to take him and his fellow performers, J.P. Richardson and Ritchie Valens, to Fargo, North Dakota, to play their next gig on the Winter Dance Party Tour of 1959. Despite reports of a snow storm, all believed that the flight would be uneventful. The flight took off at 12:05 A.M., February 3. Several hours later, the wreckage was discovered by the plane’s owner some eight miles from the airport. All on board had perished in the crash, including the 22 year old whose name was Charles Hardin Holley – AKA Buddy Holly.

While relatively short in its length – just under two years - the career of Buddy Holly was exceptional. He was among the most gifted and influential singer/songwriters, not only of the 1950s, but of all time. Between August 1957 and August 1958 Holly and his band the Crickets charted seven top 40 hits, including “That’ll Be The Day,” “Maybe Baby,” “Oh Boy,” and “Peggy Sue.”

Holly was an innovator who wrote his own material and was among the first to exploit such advanced studio techniques as double-tracking. He pioneered and popularized the now-standard rock-band lineup of two guitars, bass and drums. In his final months, he even began experimenting with orchestration. Though Holly lacked the animal attraction of Elvis Presley, he nonetheless was an engaging, charismatic figure with his trademark horn-rimmed glasses and vocal hiccup. His creative self-reliance and energetic, inspired craftsmanship predated the coming wave of rock and rollers in the '60s. Holly was a profound influence on the Beatles and Hollies (both of whom derived their names from his). Even the Rolling Stones had their first major British hit with Holly’s “Not Fade Away.” Had he lived, he would’ve been 72 years old, and undoubtedly would’ve been one of the few legends of the ‘50s who could’ve successfully transitioned into the ‘60s, perhaps even the ‘70s, such was the timeless nature of his music.

For my part what has impressed me most is how relevant Holly remains, even during periods and fads that pushed the musical envelope; i.e. the techno faze of the ‘80s. While so many of his contemporaries faded into the woodwork, Holly’s music endured, not because of its complexity and flamboyance; but because of its simplicity and unpretentiousness. It was vulnerable without being corny; catchy without being trendy; innocent without being naive. Check out Marshall Crenshaw, circa 1982 & ’83, for example. Few artists have survived so intact as Buddy Holly. Fifty years later, he sounds as fresh and as significant as he did the day he stepped onto that plane. That he was taken from us way too early was the ultimate injustice; that he would’ve made a significant contribution to rock and roll for years to come is obvious.

What he has left us with is an incredible, if somewhat short, catalogue of masterpieces; sadly, that will have to do. Rest in peace, Buddy!

2009-01-26T18:09:00.008-05:00

Top 100 Albums of the 20th Century

Well, the 20th century only if you conclude the first six decades didn't count. From an old list I had compiled about seven years ago. Enjoy!

The Rolling Stones: Exile on Main Street (Rolling Stones ‘72)
"The Indestructible Beat of Soweto" (Shanachie ‘86)
The Grateful Dead: Live/Dead (Warner Bros. '69)
David Murray Quartet: Shakill’s Warrior (DIW/Columbia ‘91)
Joe Cocker: Joe Cocker! (A&M ‘69)
Neil Young: Rust Never Sleeps (Reprise ‘79)
The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Capitol ‘67)
The Clash: London Calling (Epic ‘80)
Randy Newman: 12 Songs (Reprise ‘70)
"Lucinda Williams" (Rough Trade ‘88)
Bruce Springsteen: Born in the USA (Columbia ‘84)
Bob Dylan: Blonde on Blonde (Columbia ‘66)
Al Green: Call Me (Hi ‘73)
Fugees: The Score (Ruffhouse/Columbia ‘96)
Derek & The Dominos: Layla (Atco ‘70)
Miles Davis: A Tribute to Jack Johnson (Columbia ‘71)
Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road (Mercury ‘98)
Iris Dement: My Life (Warner Bros. ‘94)
Bob Dylan / The Band: The Basement Tapes (Columbia ‘75)
Sly & The Family Stone: There’s a Riot Goin’ On (Epic ‘71)
James Carter: The Real Quietstorm (Atlantic Jazz ‘95)
Jimi Hendrix: Are You Experienced? (Reprise ‘67)
Ornette Coleman: Of Human Feelings (Antilles ‘82)
Tricky: Maxinquaye (Island '95)
Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic (ABC ‘74)
Talking Heads: Remain in Light (Sire ‘80)
Television: Marquee Moon (Elektra '77)
DeBarge: In a Special Way (Gordy ‘83)
Rod Stewart: Every Picture Tells a Story (Mercury ‘71)
The Beatles: Abbey Road (Capitol ‘69)
Prince: Sign o’ the Times (Paisley Park ‘87)
The Sex Pistols: Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols! (Warner Bros. ‘77)
L.L. Cool J: Mama Said Knock You Out (Def Jam ‘90)
"Paul Simon" (Columbia ‘72)
Bob Marley & The Wailers: Natty Dread (Island ‘75)
The New York Dolls: In Too Much Too Soon (Mercury ‘74)
The Band: Music From Big Pink (Capitol ‘68)
Dusty Springfield: Dusty in Memphis (Atlantic ‘69)
Graham Parker & The Rumour: Squeezing Out Sparks (Arista ‘79)
Liz Phair: Exile in Guyville (Matador ‘93)
Beck: Mellow Gold (DGC ‘94)
Sonic Youth: Dirty (DGC ‘92)
Aretha Franklin: I Never Loved A Man (Atlantic ‘67)
Nick Lowe: Pure Pop for Now People (Columbia ‘78)
The English Beat: Special Beat Service (I.R.S. ‘82)
Sonny Rollins: G-Man (Milestone ‘87)
Creedence Clearwater Revival: Willy and the Poor Boys (Fantasy ‘69)
Randy Newman: Good Old Boys (Reprise '74)
The Robert Cray Band: Strong Persuader (Mercury ‘86)
The Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs (Merge '99)
Fleetwood Mac: Rumours (Warner Bros. ‘77)
Rosanne Cash: Interiors (Columbia ‘90)
Billy Bragg & Wilco: Mermaid Avenue (Elektra ‘98)
Kid Creole & The Coconuts: Wise Guy (Sire/ZE ‘82)
The Who: Who’s Next? (MCA ‘71)
The Roches: A Dove (MCA ‘92)
"Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band" (RCA Victor ‘76)
Stevie Wonder: Innervisions (Tamla ‘73)
Neil Young: After the Gold Rush (Reprise ‘70)
Joni Mitchell: Blue (Reprise ‘71)
P.J. Harvey: To Bring You My Love (Island ‘95)
David Bowie: Station To Station (RCA Victor ‘76)
John Prine: Sweet Revenge (Atlantic ‘73)
"The Wild Tchoupitoulas" (Island ‘76)
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds (Capitol ‘66)
P.M. Dawn: The Bliss Album ...? (Gee Street ‘93)
Joni Mitchell: Court and Spark (Asylum ‘74)
Public Enemy: It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (Def Jam ‘87)
Van Morrison: Moondance (Warner Bros. ‘70)
Nirvana: In Utero (DGC ‘93)
Ray Charles: Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music (Dunhill ‘62)
X: Wild Gift (Slash ‘81)
Amy Rigby: Diary of a Mod Housewife (Koch ‘96)
Bonnie Raitt: Give It Up (Warner Bros. ‘72)
Marshall Crenshaw: Field Day (Warner Bros. ‘83)
Elvis Costello: Trust (Columbia ‘81)
The Rolling Stones: Beggar's Banquet (London ‘68)
Pere Ubu: Dub Housing (Chrysalis ‘79)
Blondie: Parallel Lines (Chrysalis ‘78)
The Flying Burrito Brothers: Gilded Palace of Sin (A&M ‘69)
Lynyrd Skynyrd: Street Survivors (MCA ‘77)
The Mekons: Fear and Whiskey (Sin import ‘85)
Beastie Boys: Licensed to Ill (Def Jam ‘86)
Toots & The Maytals: Funky Kingston (Island ‘75)
Eno: Another Green World (Island ‘76)
Jimmy Cliff, et al: The Soundtrack to "The Harder They Come" (Mango ‘73)
Aretha Franklin: Who's Zoomin' Who? (Arista '85)
Arto Lindsay: Mundo Civilizado (Bar/None ‘97)
Bonnie Raitt: Luck of the Draw (Capitol ‘91)
The Pogues: Rum, Sodomy and the Lash (MCA ‘86)
Culture: Two Sevens Clash (Shanachie ‘87)
B.B. King: Live in Cook County Jail (MCA ‘71)
Lou Reed: New Sensations (RCA Victor ‘84)
The Neville Brothers: Yellow Moon (EMI-America ‘89)
Patti Smith: Horses (Arista ‘75)
The Blasters: Non Fiction (Slash ‘83)
M People: Elegant Slumming (Epic ‘94)
Black Uhuru: Anthem (Island ‘84)
The Ramones: Rocket to Russia (Sire ‘77)
Michael Jackson: Off the Wall (Epic '79)

Top 10 Albums of the ‘60s

The Grateful Dead: Live/Dead
Joe Cocker: Joe Cocker!
The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
Bob Dylan: Blonde on Blonde
Jimi Hendrix: Are You Experienced?
Aretha Franklin: I Never Loved a Man
The Band: Music From Big Pink
The Rolling Stones: Beggar’s Banquet
"The Velvet Underground & Nico"
Ray Charles: Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music

Top Artist(s) of the ‘60s
Ray Charles
Johnny Cash

Top 10 Albums of the ‘70s

The Rolling Stones: Exile on Main Street
Neil Young: Rust Never Sleeps
Randy Newman: 12 Songs
Al Green: Call Me
Derek & The Dominos: Layla
Miles Davis: A Tribute to Jack Johnson
Sly & The Family Stone: There’s a Riot Goin’ On
Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic
Rod Stewart: Every Picture Tells a Story
The Sex Pistols: Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols!

Top Artist(s) of the ‘70s
Linda Ronstadt
Elton John

Top 10 Albums of the ‘80s

"The Indestructible Beat of Soweto"
The Clash: London Calling
"Lucinda Williams"
Bruce Springsteen: Born in the USA
Ornette Coleman: Of Human Feelings
Talking Heads: Remain in Light
DeBarge: In a Special Way
Prince: Sign o’ the Times
Aretha Franklin: Who’s Zoomin’ Who?
The Mekons: Fear and Whiskey

Top Artist(s) of the ‘80s
Madonna
Prince

Top 10 Albums of the ‘90s

David Murray: Shakill’s Warrior
Fugees: The Score
Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road
Iris Dement: My Life
James Carter: The Real Quietstorm
Tricky: Maxinquaye
Liz Phair: Exile in Guyville
Bob Dylan: Time Out of Mind
P.J. Harvey: To Bring You My Love
P.M. Dawn: The Bliss Album ...?

Top Artist(s) of the 90's
P.M. Dawn
P.J. Harvey

2009-01-23T15:32:00.007-05:00

OK, as promised: 2007’s Top Albums

1. Arcade Fire: Neon Bible (Merge)
2. M.I.A.: Kala (Interscope)
3. Gogol Bordello: Super Taranta! (Side One Dummy)
4. The Apples in Stereo: New Magnetic Wonder (Yep Roc)
5. Lil Wayne: Da Drought 3 (Purloined Datadisc)
6. Fountains of Wayne: Traffic and Weather (Virgin)
7. Balkan Beat Box: Nu Med (JDub)
8. Les Savy Fav: Let's Stay Friends (Frenchkiss)
9. African Pearls 1: Rumba on the River (Syllart)
10. Authenticité: The Sylliphone Years (Stern's Africa)
11. Rilo Kiley: Under the Backlight (Warner Bros.)
12. Wussy: Left for Dead (Shake It)
13. Youssou N'Dour: Rokku Mi Rakka (Give and Take) (Nonesuch)
14. Lily Allen: Alright, Still (Capitol)
15. Los Campesinos!: Sticking Fingers Into Sockets (Arts & Crafts)
16. Modest Mouse: We Were Dead Before the Ship Ever Sank (Epic)
17. Bright Eyes: Cassadaga (Saddle Creek)
18. White Stripes: Icky Thump (Warner Bros.)
19. Miranda Lambert: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (Sony/BMG Nashville)
20. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah: Some Loud Thunder (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah)
21. Kanye West: Graduation (Roc-A-Fella)
22. Brakes: The Beatific Visions (Rough Trade)
23. Jill Scott: The Real Thing (Hidden Beach)
24. Lori McKenna: Unglamorous (Warner Bros.)
25. Nellie McKay: Obligatory Villagers (Hungry Mouse)

2009-01-22T22:24:00.008-05:00

2008’s Top Albums. Yes, I realize I never got around to fininshing 2007's list; I'll get to it some day. For now, call this the first of my very own Dean's Lists (as it were).

1. TV on the Radio: Dear Science (Interscope)
2. Orchestra Baobab: Made in Dakar (Nonesuch)
3. Drive-By Truckers: Brighter Than Creation’s Dark (New West)
4. Coner Oberst: Coner Oberst (Merge)
5. K’naan: The Dusty Foot Philosopher (iM Culture)
6. Les Amazones de Guinee: Wamato (Stern’s Africa)
7. The Roots: Rising Down (Def Jam)
8. Girl Talk: Feed the Animals (Illegal Art)
9. Robert Forster: The Evangelist (Yep Roc)
10. Raphael Saadiq: The Way I See It (Columbia)
11. Randy Newman: Harps and Angels (Nonesuch)
12. Los Campesinos!: Hold On Now, Youngster… (Arts & Crafts)
13. Hayes Carll: Trouble in Mind (Lost Highway)
14. The Magnetic Fields: Distortion (Nonesuch)
15. LiL Wayne: Tha Carter III (Cash Money)
16. Love Is All: A Hundred Things Keep Me Up At Night (What’s Your Rupture)
17. James McMurtry: Just Us Kids (Lightning Rod)
18. Santogold: Santogold (Downtown)
19. Kate Nash: Made of Bricks (Interscope)
20. Nas: Nas (Def Jam)
21. The Raveonettes: Lust Lust Lust (Vice)
22. Old 97’s: Blame It On Gravity (New West)
23. Jesus H. Christ and the Four Hornsmen of the Apocalypse: Happier Than Me (jesushchristrocks.com)
24. Taj Mahal: Maestro (Heads Up)
25. Vampire Weekend: Vampire Weekend (XL)

2008-02-12T20:17:00.000-05:00

Pick Ten! A Closer, more intimate, review of 2007.

Unlike past years, where I kept updating the "perfect" top 40, I thought I'd try a different tact. Pick 10 albums that did it for me and leave it at that. Of course, as always, feel free to disagree. In fact feel free to do anything damn thing you wish. It's a free country; unless that is the damn Republicans win the white house again.

1. Arcade Fire: Neon Bible (Merge). Whatever genre you may think their alt consciousness falls into, know this. These Canadians are the best damn thing to hit popular music since Johnny Rotten had a hard-on for the queen of England. And like the aforementioned icon, Win Butler doesn't hold anything back, nor betray any false pretenses. His fears and angst go hand in hand with his contempt, primarily for religion and police states - the stuff of most great works of art. While he may not have any answers to offer his minions, such shortcomings - if they be shortcomings at all - never diminish the music which rocks with endless abandon, nor lessen the warnings contained within the lyrcis. Only alt-grundge snobs would deny him his props. A plus.

2. M.I.A.: Kala (Interscope). While I agree on principle that comparing this album to her first - Arula - is like comparing Kanye West's first two albums - the first was for the critics; the latter for the fans - that would be a bit too simplistic. Truth be told, claims that this album is less political than her debut is like saying that Marx was an Hegelian with an over-developed sense of pragmatism. Her politics along with her sense of rhythm are inseparable. She briefly toyed with the idea of joining with Timbaland, then wisely thought better of it. The last thing this Sri Lanken needed was help in the beat department. Her strengths are her sarcasm and defiance, and if her left-leaning politics continue to keep her on the CIA watch list, thus barring her from entry into the U.S., my gut tells me that is perfectly OK with her. Come to think of it, it's perfectly OK with me too. A plus.

3. Gogol Bordello: Super Taranta! (Side One Dummy). While lines like "There were never any good old days/They are today, they are tomorrow/It's a stupid thing we say/Cursing tomorrow with sorrow" may never pass muster as a replacement for the famous "one day at a time" reference used at twelve-step meetings, it's about as clever a line as any body has managed to come up with in quite some time. That's mainly because Eugene Huntz isn't your typical sharp-witted punkrocker; he's a paragon of reason surrounded by a band of anarchists who are anything but typical in their own right. Picking up right where their debut left off, their brand of gypsy-fueled, eastern-European punk is as relentless as it is optimistic. That's where the paragon of reason comes in. If you don't get the irony of songs like "Your Country" and "American Wedding," you needn't worry. If Huntz' words don't grab you the music will, and, most assuredly, will never let go of you. Don't fight it, just go with it. A.

To be continued...

2007-07-12T16:39:00.000-04:00

IT’S ABOUT THE MUSIC, STUPID!

So CBS FM is back. After 25 months of being held in captivity by Jack, the station that played “the greatest hits of all time,” was set free Thursday, July 12. As Jack got the heave ho, in a mock Sopranos’ takeoff, Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” segued into Frank Sinatra’s “Summer Wind”, an obvious kiss up for the unseemly exit two years ago; and, after a montage of songs and moments going back to 1964, the first official song, the Beach Boys’ “Do It Again” was played at (now get the pun?) 1:01 P.M. From the minions of grateful oldies fans, a gigantic “Thank you, God” could be heard across the tri-state region. Jack had left the building; what was once new was now old again; the enemy had been vanquished and all was right with the world.

Perfect!

But hold onto your jukeboxes, sock hoppers. This isn’t your daddy’s CBS FM. For one thing, rock-n-roll seems to have begun in 1964, not 1955. I wonder what Bill Haley and Alan Freed would have to say about that. In fact, no mention of any pre-Beatle song is found anywhere on the updated WCBS website. The word oldie has been completely eliminated and replaced with hits. In deed, the theme throughout is the greatest hits of the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s. No Doo Wop, no Elvis, no nothing! And while it was nice that the Beach Boys got first dibs, the more sentimental favorite would’ve been “Hit The Road Jack” by Ray Charles. But, truth be told, the song never stood a chance of getting the green light, and for one very important reason: the suits at CBS still don’t believe that Jack failed. Deep down, the reason for the switch back to CBS FM was the feeling they simply didn’t handle the original transition well. In other words, it wasn’t the message, it was the messenger. In one respect, it was gratifying to learn that someone high up on the food chain had some degree of shame and regret over their conduct in ’05; credit Dan Mason, at the very least, for understanding that much. But that appears to be where the introspection has stopped. While Jack may have been officially relegated to the CBS HD2 channel, until yesterday reserved for the oldies format, the goal of corporate still has not changed: to move forward with the younger demographic. In other words Jack, plus ‘60s music, plus DJs equals compromise (i.e. truce) and, hopefully, ratings. The obvious intent is to get the original listeners, hence the advertisers, back in fold, keep a few of the Jack fans (those that didn’t go back to playing with their iPods), and in the end make everyone happy. Good luck!

Because, deep down, CBS still doesn’t get it. Whether or not you think that the oldies format has a future or is even relevant at all, know this: No other format has had the loyal following that this one has enjoyed. The moldy oldies, as they are jokingly referred to, are NOT your typical radio listener. Many of them grew up in the ‘50s, ‘60s or ‘70s, and had one, possibly two favorite stations that they would listen to. And heaven help anyone who tried to change the dial in the middle of a song. Further more the DJs on those stations were like icons; they were as big as the artists they were playing on the radio – sometimes bigger. Names like Bruce Morrow, Dan Ingram, Bob Shannon, Harry Harrison, Bill Brown, Don K. Reid and Jack Spector were, in their own way, as popular as the Beatles, the Temptations, Marvin Gaye, the Stones, the Beach Boys, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons and Aretha Franklin. You eagerly awaited the next song these guys would play, and far from an annoyance, their charm, wit and soothing voice, would be the perfect antidote for the hustle and bustle of the work week. You had coffee with Harry, joked with Dan and Bob, guessed which secret song Bill would play, sang along with Brucie, and reminisced with Don K and Jack. It wasn’t the dressing for the salad; it was the whole damn salad!

Compare and contrast that with the generation that grew up in the ‘80s and ‘90s – the age of the walkman and the personal computer. Before the ‘80s you didn’t even have presets on car stereos; by the ‘90s you had multiple bands for both FM and AM. With MP3 players and satellite radio in the mix, a typical terrestrial radio station would do well to score a 3.5 in the ratings, let alone a 4.0. And yet CBS FM, which was pulling in the mid threes for most of this decade and in the first three months of '05 was actually in 8th place according to Arbitron - this in spite of the stripped down format and reduced playlist - was scrapped for a format that for all intents and purposes never got off the ground, and as of the first quarter of '07 was mired in 16th place( a 2.0 as of sign off); a format that reached out to a demographic that can measure listener loyalty in the millisecond range. Even stranger, is that CBS chose this format in more than a dozen markets, and on stations that heretofore had been holding their own and for the most part were playing oldies. Go figure! Was it any wonder that more and more people were choosing to fork over $12.95 per month for Sirius and XM? Satellite radio, despite its reception problems, has now become the number one choice for music lovers. No matter what genre of music you prefer – rock, R&B, jazz, oldies, hip-hop, country – you can find a plethora of choices with a seemingly endless selection of songs. There are no restrictions. And the DJs know something about the music they're playing and aren’t afraid to offer valuable insight, something sadly lacking on most stations and completely devoid of at Jack.

But, I don’t want to sound too pessimistic. After all, I am grateful to have CBS FM back, even if only partly. Yes it was nice to hear Bob Shannon again. Two years was long enough. But, Broadway Bill Lee? Where hasn’t this guy worked? KTU, Hot 97, LTW, Fresh 102.7 and XM channels 5 and 8, all in the last eleven years! I’ve had less jobs than him. And can somebody please track down Bill Brown and see if he’s still alive? I miss my Brown Bag. CBS has talked about bringing back the Top-20 countdown, and doing other specials that have long been a staple of the station. If that happens, it will be good news. But I remain cautiously optimistic, in deed, somewhat skeptical over the motives for this return to the past. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being around senior management, it’s that they seldom get it. More often than not they repeat the same mistakes. If, in deed, this is more than just a PR move designed to placate disgruntled listeners, then here are some suggestions for the current CBS FM to incorporate into their fabric.

1. Play some ‘50s music. Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis, Sam Cooke, the Drifters, Frankie Lymon, the Everly Brothers and the Platters are not dinosaurs, nor are they dirty words. Without them, much of the music of the ‘60s would have been impossible.

2. Drop the playlists, or at least drop the restrictions. There are thousands of songs from the ‘50s, ‘60s, ‘70s and even the ‘80s. Play them; play them all. Don’t sell the audience short. Enough “playing what we want”; play what the listeners want. Trust me, they can keep up; and those who can’t still have their iPods.

3. Keep in touch with the past by resigning past DJs who have worked at the station and who still have a presence in this market. Perhaps someone at CBS could sit down with Scott Greenstein of Sirius and work out a deal where Cousin Brucie’s Saturday night oldies show could be simulcast? Talk about a coup.

If CBS FM is to survive, it will survive being what is has historically been: the city’s station, playing the songs that a generation of fans grew up listening to. It can’t afford the “luxury” of appealing to a demographic that never listened to it in the first place, and who could care less whether it is called CBS, Jack, Bob, Brenda or Exene.
In the meantime, just to keep our new good guys honest, below is a playlist of hour one of CBS FM, compared with Sirius, XM and True Oldies. To be fair, I will limit the satellite selections to their ‘60s and ‘70s channels. I have no control over what decade True Oldies plays from. And the hits just keep on coming!

CBS FM:
The Beach Boys – “Do It Again”; Frankie Valli – “Oh What A Night”; Aretha Franklin – “Respect”; Bruce Springsteen – “Glory Days”; Fleetwood Mac – “Don’t Stop”; Lovin’ Spoonful – “Summer in the City”; Maxine Nightingale – “Right Back Where We Started From”; The Rolling Stones – “Satisfaction”; Billy Joel – “Only the Good Die Young”; The Contours – “Do You Love Me”; John Mellencamp – “Jack and Diane”; The Beatles – “Twist and Shout”; The Bee Gees – “You Should Be Dancing”; Roy Orbison – “Pretty Woman”; Tommy James and the Shondells – “Mony, Mony”; Donna Summer – “Last Dance”; Sam the Sham – “Wooly Bully”; Bruce Springsteen – “Pink Cadillac”.

Sirius ‘60s Vibrations:
The Hombres – “Let It Out”; The Byrds – “Turn, Turn, Turn”; Bob Dylan – “Like a Rolling Stone”; The Beatles – “All My Loving”; Spencer Davis Group – “I’m A Man”; Stevie Wonder – “My Cherie Amour”; The Archies – “Sugar, Sugar”; The Doors – “Light My Fire”; Aaron Neville – “Tell It Like It Is”; Marvin Gaye & Kim Weston – “It Takes Two”; Lovin’ Spoonful – “Summer in the City”; Chad & Jeremy – “Yesterday’s Gone”; B.J. Thomas – “Hooked on a Feeling”; Gary Puckett & The Union Gap – “Over You”; Spanky & Our Gang – “Like To Get To Know You”; The Vogues – “Five O’Clock World”; Animals – “It’s My Life”; Lou Christie – “Lightning Strikes”; The Hollies – “Bus Stop”.

Sirius Totally ‘70s:
Lee Michaels – “Do You Know What I Mean”; Atlanta Rhythm Section – “Spooky”; Carole King – “I Feel the Earth Move”; Joe Walsh – “Life’s Been Good To Me”; Andrea True Connection – “More, More, More”; Curtis Mayfield – “Freddie’s Dead”; Jigsaw – “Sky High”; Al Green – “Look What You’ve Done For Me”; Lynyrd Skynyrd – “Sweet Home Alabama”; Paul Simon – “Me & Julio”; Cornelius Brothers – “Treat Her Like a Lady”; Sammy Johns – “Chevy Van”; Elton John – “Bennie & The Jets”; Samantha Sang – “Emotion”; War – “Low Rider”; Aerosmith – “Walk This Way”.

XM ‘60s:
The Beatles – “Birthday”; Percy Sledge – “Warm & Tender Love”; The Zombies – “Time of the Season”; Creedence Clearwater Revival – “Down on the Corner”; The Youngbloods – “Get Together”; Sandals – “Endless Summer”; Paul Revere – “Just Like Me”; Jan & Dean – “Honolulu Lulu”; Herman’s Hermits – “Leaning on a Lamp Post”; Rascals – “Beautiful Morning”; James Brown – “I Got the Feeling”; Sly & The Family Stone – “Dance To the Music”; Del Shannon – “Keep Searchin’”; Jimmy Glimmer – Daisy Petal Pickin’”; Mel Carter – “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me”; Jackie DeShannon – “What the World Needs Now is Love”; Bobby Lewis – “Tossin’ & Turnin’”; Elvis Presley – “Good Luck Charm”; The Beatles – “Love Me Do”.

XM ‘70s:
The Rolling Stones – “Brown Sugar”; Andy Gibb – “Everlasting Love”; Charlie Rich – “The Most Beautiful Girl”; Elton John – “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down”; Michael Jackson – “Don’t Stop ‘Till You Get Enough”; Eric Carmen – “Never Gonna Fall in Love”; The Chi-Lites – “Oh Girl”; Starbuck – “Moonlight Feels Right”; Jim Croce – “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown”; Hurricane Smith – “Oh Babe, What Would You Say”; John Travolta & Olivia Newton John – “Summer Nights”; Toby Beau – “My Angel Baby”; Dorothy Moore – “Misty Blue”; Eric Clapton – “Lay Down Sally”; Dr. Hook – “Sharing the Night Together”; Steve Miller Band – “Take the Money and Run”; England Dan & John Ford Coley – “We’ll Never Have To Say Goodbye Again”.

True Oldies Channel:
Herman’s Hermits – “Wonderful World”; The Spiral Staircase – “More Today Than Yesterday”; The Beatles – “I’m Looking Through You”; The Drifters – “On Broadway”; Roy Orbison – “Pretty Woman”; The Temptations – “Ain’t To Proud To Beg”; Swinging Blue Jeans – “Hippy, Hippy Shake”; The Hollies – “Long Cool Woman”; Dionne Warwick – “Walk on By”; The Box Tops – “Cry Like a Baby”; The Coasters – “Charlie Brown”; The Supremes – “Love Child”; Every Mother’s Son – “Come on Down To My Boat Baby”; The Rascals – “Good Lovin’”; The Beach Boys – “California Girls”; B.J. Thomas – “Rain Drops”; Blues Image – “Ride Captain, Ride”; Paul Revere – “Hungry”; Al Wilson – “Show & Tell”.

While all the stations faired well, including CBS, which was a pleasant surprise, the True Oldies Channel edged out Sirius’ ‘60s Vibrations for top prize, if for no other reason than they had a more diverse selection. Were it not for that, though, ‘60s Vibrations would have won hands down. Neither of the ‘70s stations distinguished themselves; either the decade is too eclectic for its own good, or neither can handle it properly. Kudos to the XM ‘60s station as the only one in the bunch to play an Elvis song, and two Beatles songs ALL IN THE SAME HOUR. Are you listening CBS FM? It can be done. And speaking of our dear lost station, the mix was about what it was before the initial switch over two years ago: nine songs from the '60s, six from the '70s and three from the '80s. Eighteen songs in all, with the clear winner, not surprisingly, the '60s. Perhaps I was a bit premature predicting a Jack Facsimile, afterall. Only time will tell. But if you still need a hint as to where this station's sympathies will most likely lean, look no further than the lyrics in the Fleetwood Mac song "Don't Stop." "Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone." It is in deed.

Well, I’ve written all I intend to on this. I’ll listen to CBS FM from time to time, but based on what I heard today, Bob Shannon’s emotional return notwithstanding, I will not be canceling my Sirius subscription any time soon. The lack of any serious pre-'64 content will, I fear, keep a lot of long-time listeners away, and the long-term prospects of increasing its demographic among a younger audience seems dubious at best. I wish them well, and sincerely hope they make it. Prior to this afternoon, there was only one FM station worth playing on the dial: WFUV. Now there are two, which if I’m not mistaken was how many there were on June 3, 2005 when all this mess started.

2007-07-08T12:37:00.000-04:00

HIT THE ROAD JACK!

Faced with ratings that continued to spiral downward and unable to defend a format that more closely resembled an iPod than a radio station, Infinity Broadcasting cries “uncle” and brings back the format that memories were made of.

It was Friday, June 3, 2005, 3:57 in the afternoon and long-time DJ Bill Brown was doing his usual sign off for WCBS FM, but something was missing. It was customary for the exiting DJ at CBS to announce the next DJ, in this case Bob Shannon. But Shannon never got a chance to sign on that afternoon. Instead he and the rest of the CBS crew were called into a conference room at 4:00 P.M. and told that they would no longer be employed at the station. WCBS owner Infinity Broadcasting had decided to change formats from oldies to “adult contemporary” and, under the new call letters JACK, would no longer need disc jockeys. At 4:30 that afternoon, while CBS was issuing its pink slips, Frank Sinatra’s “Summer Wind” was winding down. No one at the time thought it would be the last song heard at CBS. After 30 minutes of movie and song clips that seemed to make no sense at all, a voice came on to announce the new call letters. The next song heard was the Beastie Boys’ “You Gotta Fight For Your Right To Party,” and that, as they say in the biz, was that. As Don McLean would’ve said, it was a day the music died.

For almost 33 years, WCBS FM (the golden 101) faithfully played the songs of the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s, and, with some of the best talent on the radio, was recognized as the preeminent oldies station in America. But sagging ratings, and an increasing demographic shift towards a younger audience, spelled trouble for the iconic station. The first sign of clouds on the horizon occurred in the summer of 2002 when Don K. Reed's long-running Sunday night Doo-Wop Shop program was closed down. They also cut pre-1964 product down to once or twice per hour and began playing '70s music even more often, becoming focused on the years from 1964-79. At this point they were playing at least two ‘80s songs per hour. In a July 2005 keynote address to the Radio & Records Convention, musician/actor/DJ Steven Van Zandt labeled this switching out of 1950s music for 1970s music as the key death blow to WCBS-FM (and other oldies stations), not the later Jack takeover. [1]

The station canceled more specialty shows in 2003 such as the "Top 20 Oldies Countdown". In the summer of 2003, to appease some fans, they did bring a specialty 1955-64 oldies show called "Heart & Soul of Rock & Roll" with Norm N. Nite (another longtime air personality who had been with the station on and off since 1973). Still in that year Harry Harrison left mornings and Dan Ingram also left. In the spring of 2004, the station tightened its playlist even more, playing almost entirely songs from 1964 to 1979. They played one pre ‘64 song every other hour. They were down to about 30 pre '64 songs altogether. They played several ‘80s songs per day down to a couple dozen of those as well. The rest of the playlist was about 500 songs totally. Harrison still came back for Saturdays in that fall of 2004.

And then came “Black Friday,” as it has been called by both listeners and industry insiders. Never in the history of radio had such a move been made on such short notice. Not even the blood-letting at WNCN in December of 1993, when the station switch formats from classical music to rock and changed its call letters to WAXQ, could compare. In that scenario listeners had been told ahead of time that the switch was coming, and in any event, there was still another venue for classical music: WQXR. When CBS FM went off the air, suddenly and without warning, it meant the end of oldies music in New York.

Critics argued that the manner in which Infinity flipped formats angered long-time devotees of the station, calling it a slap in the face for the DJ’s they had grown up with. As if to add insult to injury, during its inaugural week, Jack poked fun at the CBS FM listeners, while at the same time having the audacity to “invite” them to visit an internet site that had been set up to play the songs of the old format. So not only did the station unceremoniously part ways with its past musically, it completely severed ties with virtually ALL of its listeners in the tri-state area. Jack was now in uncharted territory. Never before had a format change resulted in such a drastic demographic shift and a plunge in ratings, all at the same time. It would take months before the station was able to even approach the ratings CBS FM enjoyed for most of its tenure. To date, it has never equaled those pre-Jack ratings, a triumph of personality over attitude if ever there was one.

But there were other problems that plagued the new format, even worse than its lack of class. It was obvious that Infinity Broadcasting had seriously miscalculated the demand for a music format that more closely resembled an iPod than a radio station. What was billed as an eclectic mix of music representing all genres and all age groups proved to be nothing more than a very restricted playlist. Additionally, Infinity did not count on the fact that while the demographic for oldies music was shrinking due to the fact that some of the baby-boomers were dying off, they were among the most loyal listeners out there. Conversely, the market that Jack was courting was anything but loyal. Instead of enjoying a monopoly on a loyal, if shrinking, market, Jack was now competing within the adult contemporary market, which included the likes of WPLJ, Z100, WLTW and the new "Fresh 102.7" WWFS, formerly WNEW. Further exasperating an already dreary future was the fact that most of these listeners were not, contrary to the station’s promos, music lovers. They were more casual listeners, who owned maybe 100 or less CDs and were more interested in music for background enjoyment than for serious listening. Without quite realizing it, Jack had become for pop music what CD 101.9 had become for jazz. Failure was inevitable.

So now, having snatched defeat from the jaws of victory, Jack is poised to exit stage left and leave the building. If reports are accurate, WCBS FM will return this week to reclaim, and hopefully, recapture its rightful place as the best oldies station in the country. The move is said to be the decision of the new CBS Radio CEO Dan Mason, who returned to the company in March of this year after leaving it in 2002 to work as a consultant for the industry. Mason also recently restored 92.3 K-Rock to its alternative music roots when it became obvious no body was listening to the Free FM format either. But what about the on air personalities that helped shaped WCBS's identity? Certainly, some will return; but others like Bruce Morrow, who now calls Sirius his home, are likely lost forever. There is also the rumor that, in an attempt to attract a younger audience, the “new” CBS FM will play mostly music recorded between 1964 and 1979, and may even include some '80s hits, virtually ignoring all pre-Beatles music, and almost certainly annoying its most ardent listeners, without whom the station would never have made it to the ‘80s, much less 2005. But still, limitations and restrictions notwithstanding, it will be nice to hear the old call letters return to where they belong. Hopefully, the suits at Infinity have learned a valuable lesson from this debacle. Never underestimate the power of people who love music, and never overestimate the value of people who think mall music is where it’s at!

2007-07-06T22:58:00.000-04:00

Three Glasses: One half filled, one half empty, the other bone dry. Can anyone get me a drink of water, please?!

Patti Smith: Twelve (Sony, 2007).
What often gets ignored when talking about Smith’s career is that long before her ground-breaking debut, Horses, she was a rock critic at Creem, working alongside Lester Bangs and Robert Christgau. And, like so many critics, she developed her own biases and partialities – yes, folks we ain’t the altruistic bearers of wisdom and insight we think we are. And those subjective truths would come to permeate her music in the years and later decades to come. So it shouldn’t be a total surprise that in doing an album of purely covers that she would lean towards her contemporaries, like Young, the Stones, Beatles, Dylan, Simon and Hendrix, in her time legends all. What is a surprise, and a pleasant one at that, is how well done the album is. These aren’t just rehashes of some favorite song list she had stashed away. Smith makes each song her own. She manages to extract the original lyricism of the artist, adding her own sound in the process – that distinctive spoken / sung voice that has been her signature since 1975 – without doing violence to the song, something most cover artists, sadly, do on a fairly regular basis. Expecting a poet to be an interpreter is one thing; expecting an interpretation that enhances the song without reinventing it is a rare gift; one that even Kurt Cobain would heartily approve of. Not everyone who listens to this album will be enriched by its sound. You either like Smith and her voice or you don’t. And, to be honest, nothing here is groundbreaking. But on the whole I’m impressed enough to recommend it, and optimistic enough to think it will give you a fresh perspective on each song. The last time I checked, that was supposed to be the reason for a cover album in the first place. A minus

Paul McCartney: Memory Almost Full (Hear, 2007).
36 years of sub-par performances after an illustrious, if somewhat, brief – relatively speaking – stint as part of arguably the greatest rock-n-roll band of all time apparently have had no affect on his demeanor. So why should year 37 be any different. Because deep down all of us wonder what the hell happened to that wonderful, talented lad from Liverpool. John had his moments, George, too. Even Ringo turned some heads. So how come after all these years are we still anticipating that moment when Paul will thrill us with an effort worthy of his pedigree? Because deep down we want to believe he’s capable of it, and we don’t want to miss it. Fact is, with the exception of a couple of songs on Band on the Run and Venus and Mars, he has been what he always was: the silly romantic who loved love songs, who went for the hook no matter how corny because that’s where the bucks were. John brought balance to his romantic side, and together their genius soared. Apart, Paul foundered. It’s that simple. So, now he’s recording for Starbucks. More money, more airplay, and more anticipation that maybe this time, he’ll deliver on his promise. No such luck. Compared with the rest of his catalogue, Memory Almost Full might seem like a breath of fresh air, but therein lies the problem. His catalogue is so mediocre, almost anything would be an improvement. Not that any of this matters to Sir Paul. Airplay and apologists are what it's all about these days. If the man had cared at all, we wouldn’t be going on four decades waiting for a sign from the heavens. Personally, I stopped holding my breath years ago. As for the rest of you, if you’re still waiting for his masterpiece, I have some sobering news. Don’t hold your breath! B minus

Smithereens: Meet The Smithereens (Koch, 2007).
“The Beatles Tribute Album by America’s Phenomenal Pop Combo!” Seriously, that's what it says on the cover. Fortunately anyone who’s ever listened straight through to a Smithereens album knows this is at best hyperbole; at worst an oxymoron. The only thing vaguely resembling phenomenal in Pat DiNizio’s relatively innocuous career occurred in 1986 when, for a short time at least, he and his band mates enjoyed some fanfare off of a rather pedestrian debut effort, which garnered some airplay among the new-wave radio stations before it fell off the cliff into oblivion. That being said this attempt at covering a group that in its heyday would have run rings around the likes of the Smithereens just goes to show you that we are truly living in perilous times. C

2007-07-05T12:20:00.000-04:00

TURN UP YOUR STEREO, NOW!

The Apples in Stereo: New Magnetic Wonder (Yep Roc, 2007).
“Uh oh uh oh, uh oh uh oh, turn up your ster-e-o-o, uh oh uh oh, uh oh uh oh, I feel electric when the meter starts to glow,” Robert Schneider belts out in “Can You Feel It,” the opening track on this, his latest and best Beatles-like album. After a five-year layoff he’s finally nailed it. I disagree with the ELO connection though; I’m thinking more Housemartins minus the political overtones. I’ve always suspected Schneider for a Paul Heaton fan anyway. As for the rest of the album, the tone, as in earlier efforts, defies categorization. Not quite indie, but definitely not pop; I’d call them bubble gum punk, which I guess is as close as anyone is likely to come. Whatever your preference, there’s no denying the charm of the lyrics and the vocals, among the best of the year. The one sad note, the departure of Hilarie Sidney, who wrote and sang "Sunndal Song" and “Sunday Sounds,” two of the best songs on the album. Otherwise sit back in your way back chair, put up your feet, and “feel the magic when the speaker starts to blow.” A

Bright Eyes: Cassadaga (Saddle Creek, 2007).
Far from being the child prodigy rock crits hailed him as only five years ago – he did turn 27 on February 15! – Conor Oberst was more a spoiled brat who couldn’t stop whining long enough to allow himself a chance to transcend the pain that was in his soul. That was then, this is now. Following up on 2005’s pleasantly surprising I’m Wide Awake, And It’s Morning, Cassadaga is his best and most clearly defined effort to date. And if the album title’s reference to a spiritualist community in Florida has you concerned, don’t be. Really, did every one get Jim Morrison’s psychedelic rantings in the ‘60s? Unlike Morrison or Ryan Adams, who still hasn’t shit but refuses to get off the pot, Oberst at least goes somewhere with his self-indulgence. The promise everyone saw in 2002 finally gets delivered here. Gone is Emmylou Harris, replaced by an assortment of mostly anonymous harmony singers (the exception being Gillian Welch on “Classic Cars”), which is probably a good thing; Oberst never did like sharing the spotlight. He still isn’t Dyan incarnate, but, given the current crop of indie frontrunners, he does more with his talent than most. A minus

brakesbrakesbrakes: The Beatific Visions (Rough Trade, 2007).
The album title denotes innocence, which I suppose is their way of being ironic. Like most English auteurs who grew up on the British new wave explosion of the ‘80s, but who cut their teeth on the original British invasion of the ‘60s, Eamon Hamilton had some reconciling to do. So, with the assistance of Thomas and Alex Wright (of Electric Soft Parade) he cut one of the most eclectic albums of the year, spanning the gamut between post punk (“Porcupine or Pineapple” and "Hold Me in the River") to alt-country (“If I Should Die Tonight” and "On Your Side") to adult alternative ("Mobile Communication" and "Isabel"). Every song a winner, even the eight and a half minute ending, which needlessly has about a minute of dead air. I told you they were ironic. Bumper sticker of the decade: “Who Won The War? Was It Worth Fighting For?” They should get the grammy just for that! That being said, I’d settle for a couple of plays at WFUV. A minus

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah: Some Loud Thunder (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, 2007).
Having released the indie sensation of 2005, it stood to reason that Part Deux would be a disappointment, right? Wrong. Notwithstanding the annoying distortion that plagues the title track – no Robert it isn’t a cracked ceramic cartridge sound; more a saturated tape player sound, which, knowing their love affair with lo-fi, makes more sense – this actually is a more even album than version one. My favorite songs are “Satan Said Dance” and “Underwater (You and Me)”, the former proof that Alec Ounsworth really does have a sense of humor, the latter that he has the instinct and ear for the hit single that one of these days this band will score. Don’t believe the hype from the indie naysayers. Listen for yourself. A minus

2007-07-02T23:27:00.000-04:00

Get Your Country Comfort Where You Find It!

Two entries by two women steeped in country tradition; one very good and one encouraging, sort of.

Miranda Lambert: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (Sony/BMG Nashville, 2007).
My disdain for country music goes back almost twenty-five years, and with good reason. With the exception of Rosanne Cash, John Anderson, Willie Nelson and a couple of Rosie Flores albums, the genre simply hasn’t lived up to its historical traditions. Somewhere, I suspect, Hank Williams is turning over in his grave at what has happened to this once proud and rich music. While this latest entry by this self-proclaimed Garth Brooks fan is unlikely to repair the damage of the last three decades, it does, if nothing else, offer up an olive branch. Lambert is no stranger to success; her debut Kerosene made her the darling of the country charts in 2005. This album builds off of that and with an edge that is very reminiscent of Flores, circa 1992, which means it’s also part Dwight Yoakam, circa mid 1980s. In other words, Lambert leans more toward Honky Tonk than the traditional El Lay that passes for country these days, and at only a mere twenty-three – a babe even in country – she has more to say than women ten years her senior. While her writing has grown a notch since her debut, the real breakthrough here are the covers: “Dry Town” Gillian Welch, “Easy From Now On” Carlene Carter, and “Getting Ready” Patty Griffin. Not quite Lucinda Williams, but far enough from Brooks and Dunn to bring hope. Quite possibly the country album of the year! A-

Elizabeth Cook: Balls (31 Tigers, 2007).
The title track – actually it’s called “Sometimes It Takes Balls To Be A Woman” – will impress the boys at the bar, the Velvet Underground cover will have her contemporaries wondering if she has her priorities in order, and "Rest Your Weary Mind" is pure Alison Krauss and Union Station. But while everyone in Nashville seems convinced that she’s the next Loretta Lynn, I still have my doubts. True, Rodney Crowell’s production talents help a lot - the last time Crowell got this close to a country star he wrecked his marriage; the guess here is that Cook isn’t nearly that fragile. And, yes, I do like the songs, all of which she managed to write herself! Cook’s main problem is not her writing, tough though it may be. She’s a little too “cute” for my tastes. In other words she’s more Faith Hill than Shania Twain, which probably means she has a long way to go before she gets to Loretta Lynn. B+

2007-06-03T23:06:00.000-04:00

It Was 40 Years Ago Today: Rocks Seminal and Defining Moment Celebrates Another Anniversary.

The date was June 1, 1967, and it represented for rock fans what the birth of Christ represented for Christians: the demarcation point between what was and what would forever be. In all honesty, however, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was not the first of its kind; nor were the Beatles the first to cross over that threshold of what was to become known as album rock. Two years earlier, Bob Dylan had graced us with Bringin’ It All Back Home, followed closely by Highway ’61 Revisited. In December of that year the Beatles would release Rubber Soul; this was the album that Brian Wilson couldn’t get out of his head for six months. No, the birth of Christ would be an inaccurate analogy to the release of Sgt. Pepper's. A more appropriate comparison would be the Declaration of Independence. Any decent historian would tell you that by July 4, 1776, the Colonies were already at war with England – in deed the War had started in Boston Harbor a year earlier. The Declaration was more a formality, sort of an announcement to let the world know what had already begun. Sgt. Pepper, meet Thomas Jefferson!

Yes, far from being rock’s AD moment, the release of Sgt. Pepper’s, like that July Fourth signing, announced to the industry that the status quo had changed. For as critically acclaimed as those earlier albums had been, they were still considered the exceptions to the rule. Prior to 1967, the record industry still considered the LP to be an accessory to its bottom line. If an artist or group had more than two or three strong songs on an album it was considered a bonus; of more importance was how many hit singles the record company could cash in on. No matter how well received an album was, a dearth of hits meant trouble from the label. The Beach Boys found this out when they released Pet Sounds in 1966. Capitol thought they were getting Surfin’ Safari, Wilson gave them Revolver, Part Deux. The label felt betrayed, and though Wilson convinced them to let him release Wild Honey in 1967, Capitol never seriously promoted the album. Payback can be a bitch.

What the Beatles did was nothing short of revolutionary. Not even Dylan – who has always been thought of as a bit of an eccentric, even among his admirers – could’ve pulled this off. [In deed, one could argue that from a pop music standpoint, despite the critical acclaim he was receiving, Dylan was doing more for the careers of the Byrds and Peter, Paul and Mary than himself.] It was the Beatles who almost overnight not only convinced an industry to rethink how it viewed the record album, but single-handedly set the ground rules going forward. No more would artists or groups be permitted the luxury of getting by with a hit single or two. The goal now was to record a complete album of material. Filler, long the mainstay of the industry, would now be shunned. Those who couldn’t keep up were relegated to the auspices of what would soon be known as bubble gum music.

Consider the transformation. In 1967 alone, notwithstanding Sgt. Pepper’s, the top albums of the year included the following: Jimi Hendrix, Are You Experienced?; Aretha Franklin, I Never Loved a Man; Otis Redding, Love Man; The Beach Boys, Wild Honey; The Velvet Underground and Nico; Buffalo Springfield, Again; the Hollies, Evolution; and Stevie Wonder, I Was Made To Love Her. All of them A minus or better. Take away Dylan, the Beatles and the Beach Boys from 1965 and 1966 and you wouldn’t have gotten more than half a dozen good albums combined, and one of them, the Byrds’ Mr. Tambourine Man, owed as much to the brilliance of Dylan as to the genius of Roger McGuinn. By the end of the 1969, what started off as the decade of the 45 rpm, would end up being defined as the era of the album. In less than a couple of years the industry went from "I Want To Hold Your Hand" to "Hey Jude." Talk about a 180!

Not even the Stones, long the perennial kings of blue-collar, R&B rock and roll, could resist. Both Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed were testimonials to what Sgt. Pepper's had wrought. Ironically, though they often referred to themselves during the ‘60s as the greatest rock and roll band of all time - Jagger goes so far as to actually call them "the greatest fucking band of all time" on Hot Rocks - the Stones would actually wind up inheriting the mantle from the Beatles. They’ll deny it to their graves, but Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main Street owed more to Rubber Soul than to Out of Our Heads. The evolutionary process that began in 1965 as an experiment, by 1967 had become standard operating procedure. And all because of one album. Go Figure.

So the next time you play Sgt. Pepper’s consider, if you will, not just the brilliance of the album, but the significance of its arrival. 40 years is a long time in music and a lot has changed since then. Most of the genres that we listen to today owe their heritage to what four lads from Liverpool - John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr - brought about, and more to the point what they forced on a reluctant, but ultimately grateful industry.

2007-05-22T11:20:00.000-04:00

With The Village Voice having canned Robert Christgau, I thought I’d start my own little Consumer Guide. Each month I’ll do 8 to 10 reviews, split up into two entries. There will also be the odd feature or two as I feel the inspiration come over me.

Here goes nothing.

Lily Allen: Alright, Still (Capitol, 2007). It would be easy to dismiss this 21-year old child prodigy – she’s the daughter of prominent British actor Keith Allen – as just another privileged brat of excess. But you’d be wrong. In deed it is Allen’s upbringing – attending 13 schools in 12 years and being expelled from many of them, running away from a boarding school when she was 14, and various sundry relationships with folks obviously not of her class, that sets the theme for this album. The girl is pissed, and with a maturity that belies her age, she transcends her rage and rebellious past and comes up with an album that her contemporaries could only pray to deliver. She’s Ani DiFranco with a rhythm section, with one obvious exception. While DiFranco had a loathing for herself and a healthy contempt for anyone who was superficial, Allen seems to get off on her good looks. She really thinks she’s the shit, which probably means she is. A-

Chris Smither: Leave the Light On (Signature, 2006). Smither has been around so long – his first album I’m a Stranger Too was released in 1970 – only Dylan and, maybe, Newman have lasted as long, with only the former consistently turning out significant works. And while Smither’s voice is aging faster than the fingers that pick his legendary blue guitar, it’s his indelible spirit that remains ageless and timeless. While I still prefer 1991’s Another Way To Find You if for no other reason than the fact he’s always been at his best when he flew solo and live, there’s no denying this 60-plus year old troubadour his due. Gotta love his sense of humor too on the title track when he boasts he’ll live to be a hundred, “39 to go but I ain’t keepin’ score;” or on “Origin of the Species” the funniest knock on intelligent design ever set to music. But it’s on “Diplomacy” where Smither’s folkie roots come home to roost: “Peace is so peaceful, it ain’t a way to survive. When nobody hates you, nobody knows you’re alive.” Like so many philosophers before him he has the heart of a poet but with the moral high ground to make it sound sincere. I’m hoping he makes it to the century mark. A-

Modest Mouse: We Were Dead Before the Ship Ever Sank (Epic, 2007). Having long ago given up any hope he would one day wake up to find he was Stephen Malkmus, Isaac Brock was free to develop one of the country’s best indie-rock bands this side of Pavement; and unlike the former, Brock’s star is still ascending. Ever since 1996’s “This Is a Long Drive for Someone With Nothing To Think About” they have continued to evolve their sound, which I’ve always suspected owes much of its heritage to ‘80s bands like the Meat Puppets and Husker Du. Adding former Smiths’ guitarist Johnny Marr to the lineup cinches it for me. These guys are nostalgic, but in a good way. “Dashboard” proves they can reach for the stars while still reaching for the jugular, and with five albums already under their belt, this one is their finest. Among their contemporaries, only Sonic Youth has a longer and more substantial catalogue. A

Brandi Carlile: The Story (Columbia, 2007). Having survived the accolades of her self-titled debut in ’05, Carlile enlisted the help of T-Bone Burnett and with the help of some smart lyrics by Phil and Tim Hanseroth, comes up with a sophomore effort worthy of her P.R. While I generally eschew singer/songwriters who wax poetically, but who lack the depth to convey substance behind the style, there’s no denying the charm of this Washingtonian. Her songs are light, but hardly the stuff of the background music that finds its way to most “easy-listening” stations. And she never over-reaches, meaning she knows her limitations – a talent other supposedly “superior” artists seem to lack these days. A good one. A-

Wilco: Sky Blue Sky (Nonesuch, 2007). I used to think that Jeff Tweedy was this generation’s Mark Knopfler in that he seemed overly preoccupied with technique often at the expense of substance. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was a text-book case in point. I still don’t know what the thing is, but boy doesn’t it “sound” impressive? But now I think his real problem is that he suffers from Paul Simon syndrome: he’s too damn smart for his own britches. How else do you reconcile the brilliance of the Mermaid Avenue albums with the aforementioned effort? Clearly, Tweedy, like Simon, is far better off keeping it simple, which is why this album – his sixth in 12 years and the best since Being There (which I'll admit I may have initially overrated a bit) – is a classic example of the age old axiom, less is more. Here, Tweedy abandons his “technique” and instead opts for simplicity. The songs for once are engaging and inviting, rather than complex and obtuse. Consider these lyrics from the opening track, "Maybe the sun will shine today, the clouds will blow away / I will try to understand, everything has its plan." Tweedy’s real accomplishment is not trying to sound so profound that he misses the forest for the trees. Another welcome sign is his return to his alt-country roots, where I’ve always thought Tweedy belonged in the first place. Like so many bands before them – the Jayhawks come to mind here – Tweedy’s Wilco, and to a lesser extent Uncle Tupelo, overreached and thus lost touch with what made them truly successful. Unlike Mark Olsen, who fumbled the ball and never did recover, Tweedy has a chance to build off this if he wants it. For now, I’ll just say this is the Wilco album both fans and admirers alike will enjoy. A-

2007-05-18T10:52:00.000-04:00

2006 - A Final Look!

1. Bob Dylan: Modern Times (Columbia)
2. Ghostface Killah: Fishscale (Def Jam)
3. The Klezmatics: Wonder Wheel (JMG)
4. Tom Waits: Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards (Anti)
5. Rosanne Cash: Black Cadillac (Capitol)
6. Ornette Coleman: Sound Grammar (Sound Grammar)
7. The Streets: The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living (Vice/Atlantic)
8. Joanna Newsom: Ys (Drag City)
9. Outkast: Idlewild (LeFace)
10. Todd Snider: The Devil You Know (New Door)
11. Maria Muldaur: Heart of Mine: Love Songs of Bob Dylan (Telarc)
12. The Coup: Pick a Bigger Weapon (Epitaph)
13. Dr. John: Right Place, Right Time (Hyenna)
14. Wussy: Funeral Dress (Shake It)
15. Frank London’s Klezmer Brass Allstars: Carnival Conspiracy (Piranha)
16. The Gothic Archies: The Tragic Treasury: Songs From a Series of Unfortunate Events (Nonesuch)
17. Clipse: Hell Hath No Fury (Zomba/Star Trek/Re-Up Gang)
18. Jesus H. Christ and the Four Hornsmen of the Apocalypse (www.jesushchristrocks.com)
19. Arctic Monkeys: Whatever People Say I am, That’s What I’m Not (Domino)
20. Toumani Diabates Symmetric Orchestra: Boulevard de I’Independence (Nonesuch)
21. The Hold Steady: Boys and Girls in America (Vagrant)
22. Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins: Rabbit Fur Coat (Team Love)
23. Yo La Tengo: I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (Matador)
24. Rominca Puceanu & the Gore Brothers: Sounds From a Bygone Age, Vol 2 (Asphalt Tango)
25. Kimya Dawson: Remember That I Love You (K)
26. Rhett Miller: The Believer (Verve Forecast)
27. Chris Smither: Leave the Light On (Signature)
28. Beck: The Information (Interscope)
29. The Rapture: Pieces of the People We Love (Motown/Vertigo)
30. TV on the Radio: Return To Cookie Mountain (Interscope)
31. Belle & Sebastian: The Life Pursuit (Matador)
32. Sonic Youth: Rather Ripped (Geffen)
33. The Handsome Family: Last Days of Wonder (Carrot Top)
34. The Go-Betweens: That Striped Sunlight Sound (Yep Roc)
35. Grandaddy: Just Like the Fambly Cat (V2)
36. Sir Douglas Quintet: Live From Austin, Tx (New West)
37. Public Enemy: Rebirth of a Nation (Guerrilla Funk)
38. Tom Ze: Estudando O Pagode (Luka Bop)
39. Gnarls Barkley: St. Elsewhere (Downtown)
40. Thunderbirds Are Now!: Make History (Frenchkiss)

2007-04-15T18:27:00.000-04:00

DUMB AND DUMBER: How Corporate America takes out its garbage.

“What did you do on your vacation, Peter?”

“I went to sunny and warm Florida and got a chance to relax. How about you?

“I got a chance to see a radio icon commit suicide.”

“That’s the last time I take a vacation during sweeps!”

Yes, as hard as it may be to believe, legendary, hall of fame radio personality Don Imus threw himself on his sword as it were, quite possibly ending an otherwise prestigious, if tumultuous, 36 year career over his remarks towards the Rutgers’ women’s basketball team. The now infamous phrase “nappy-headed hos” will join ranks with other illustrious comments, like, “I did not have sex with that woman” and “I’m not a crook.”

What strikes me most about this spectacle is not the outlandishness of the remark; anyone paying attention over the last four decades probably had the “pleasure” of hearing worse language from him. Nor is it even the clamor from outraged minority groups, lead particularly by Al Sharpton whom Newsday’s Shawn Powell correctly referred to as a racial ambulance chaser. No, the remark was repugnant and the outrage justified. One could say that Imus finally got what he deserved. In an ironic twist of fate, after years of playing Russian roulette, critics argued he finally caught the bullet.

But did he deserve the bullet, and why, after all those tumultuous years of deriding and, in many cases, defaming people, did this political and emotional tidal wave finally take him out? Race is the ultimate four-letter word in American society; after three centuries, it is still a hot button for the body politic. While it is true that African Americans are treated far better now than they were, say, forty years ago – lynchings and cross burnings are virtually a thing of the past – critics say that America still has a considerable way to go to mend the damage of that legacy. So when anyone, especially someone in the position of Imus, cracks a remark that touches a nerve among such an historically discriminated group, there are consequences that must be doled out.

But did the consequences fit the crime? Certainly no one with half a brain could argue that Imus should get off scott free for his remarks, but shouldn’t the actions that both NBC and CBS took over the last two weeks bare an equal and complicit review? As Warner Wolf would say, “Let’s go to the video tape.”

Wednesday, April 4, Imus is in the middle of a comedy bit with Bernard McGuirk when he utters his now infamous comment. Both laugh heartily, not realizing the under-water sea quake that they just started.

Thursday, April 5, Imus tells listeners to get over it; that it was just street language. The tsunami begins headed for the shore.

Friday, April 6, with protests coming into both WFAN and MSNBC officials, Imus issues an apology for the remarks. The tsunami picks up momentum and speed.

Monday, April 9, five days after the original remarks, NBC and CBS, within hours of each other, as if trying to out do each other, finally issue statements condemning the remarks as “deplorable.” A giant “duh” is heard emanating from the African American community. Both networks agree to suspend him for two weeks, the suspension to begin the following week. The wave is within striking distance of the shoreline. Later that day Imus goes on Al Sharpton’s radio show and with already one foot squarely in his mouth, he inserts the other foot by referring to both Sharpton and a black congresswoman as “you people.” Turn over steak and apply seasoning!

Wednesday, April 11, one full week after the initial insulting remarks, MSNBC decides to drop the Imus in the Morning show from its simulcast, effective immediately. Water recedes from the shoreline as on lookers see a massive wave off in the distance headed straight for them.

Thursday, April 12, late in the afternoon, CBS radio follows MSNBC’s lead and fires Don Imus. A statement issued by CBS President and Chief Executive Officer Leslie Moonves, said, "From the outset, I believe all of us have been deeply upset and repulsed by the statements that were made on our air about the young women who represented Rutgers University in the NCAA Women's Basketball Championship with such class, energy and talent." The tidal wave finally sweeps ashore, taking out the man most thought to be impenetrable and indestructible.

While Moonves’ statement was accurate, if superficial, in its theme, why did it take over a week to issue? Was Don Imus any less insulting or repulsive last Wednesday when he made his comments? Of course not, but last Wednesday all he was was a loud-mouth shock jock who uttered another in a series of questionable remarks. No one at either network could have anticipated the groundswell of public outrage and furor that was to come. What is the most repulsive thing about this entire episode is not the fact that an aging white man uttered a phrase more commonly heard on a hip-hop album, but rather the conduct of both NBC and CBS. By waiting as long as they did to take action – five days! - they exacerbated an already tense situation, until, finally with sponsors bailing on them left and right, they had no choice but to remove Imus, just to stop the hemorrhaging. All the high-brow, altruistic comments made by both companies were nothing more than a feeble attempt to placate an outraged community who kept insisting on blood and the corporate sponsors, who were themselves concerned about their own image. Imus became the poster boy for all that was wrong with American race relations. Somebody please pass me the barf bag.

Ironically, the TRUE victims in this messy affair, the Rutgers’ Women’s Basketball Team, have proven themselves the only decent and courageous party. If anyone had a right to get on their high horse and scream for vengeance, it was those 10 young women and their coach. But instead of calling for Imus’ head, all of them wanted to meet the man who slandered them, and get to know him and hopefully give him a chance to know them. Their class and dignity, in an otherwise vulgar scenario, should have set an example for the country and laid the foundation for a true dialogue into the problems in our country. Instead the focus has been on Imus and his storied career.

In the end what got Imus canned was not so much his mouth, though it certainly played a role, but the underlying fear within corporate America that whatever rocks the boat and threatens the bottom line must be dealt with in the harshest of terms. In deed Imus’ greatest crime might have been that he bit the hand that fed him. The very same networks that financially benefited from his off-color humor and abrasive personality, when they saw their profits threatened, turned on him like a tiger eating its young. And like the tsunami that swept onto shore to devour the invincible, when it was finally done receded back into the ocean leaving in its wake the aftermath of its destruction.

Imus will be back, perhaps sooner than most expect. The backlash against his firing is already gaining its own sort of tsunami, though not nearly as big as the one that lead to his dismissal. And the reason he will be back is very basic and simple: he makes his employers money. You may call them shallow and transparent, but company executives know a cash cow when they see one. But when, and in what manner will he return? Will it be on terrestrial radio, or on satellite? Already there are rumors that Sirius may sign him. Sirius president Scott Greenstein was Imus’ old boss when the two worked at WNBC in the 1980s. It was Greenstein who signed Howard Stern to his multi-million dollar contract two years ago. Satellite radio might well prove the perfect venue for Imus to reconstitute his damaged reputation, and given what will prove to be a very rigid and carefully-watched landscape in both radio and television, might end up being the only outlet that will have him.

It has been said that politics make strange bedfellows. They got nothing on corporate America!

2007-02-20T22:33:00.000-05:00

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME!

Lucinda Williams: West (Lost Highway, 2007) B+

LIKE most major artists who have something relevant to say, Lucinda Williams has evolved over the years. In 1988, the shy, introspective 35 year old alt-country phenom from Lake Charles, Louisiana, arrived on the music scene and through sheer courage and strength of will propelled her self-titled debut into the best kept secret in pop music since Gram Parsons bumped Roger McGuinn from the Byrds, spawning in the process two of the best country hits never to hit number one in Nashville: "The Night's Too Long" and "Passionate Kisses."

Undaunted by the lack of airplay, she toured relentlessly over the next few years, and when she was finally ready, she released the beautiful, if dark, Sweet Old World. Williams’ perfectionism, her unwillingness to allow anything with her name on it to go out until she was completely satisfied, was a refreshing change of pace in an industry that spits out albums like bird seed in a pet store. Like the former album, once again airplay was sparse. But, over the years, Williams had developed a huge and loyal following of fans who came to admire and respect the principals she espoused in her songs. The nakedness of her singing, coupled with her ability to transcend pain into joy, to find something hopeful even when things don't often seem to be going your way may not have been what the record bizers wanted to hear, but the critics fell in love with her. Call her stubborn, but don't call her pretentious!

But it was 1998’s stunning Car Wheels on a Gravel Road that finally brought her the recognition she so richly deserved. She won the grammy for best contemporary folk album the following year, and almost overnight her fan base doubled then tripled. Like it or not, she was now following in the grand tradition of Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell, with all the baggage that went along with it. No longer the best-kept secret among the alt-country scene, she was now among the most recognizable faces, not only of her genre, but in pop music in general.

Critics waited to see how she would handle it. They didn’t have to wait long. The next two albums, 2001’s Essence and 2003’s World Without Tears, saw an artist being pulled toward compromise but never consumed by it. Both albums were easily her most accessible since her debut, but neither pushed the envelope in the way Car Wheels had. She was still the best at her craft, the best at letting her audience in to see her world, but now the engine that propelled her music was taking a fast lane. As Robert Christgau succinctly pointed out, “Like Dylan before her, she discovers how hard it is to write the simple ones.” Success hadn’t spoiled her, nor dulled her pen, put it did put a crimp in her style, which was always far more private than any of her fans or peers could have realized. The sweet old world she loved so much had gotten considerably smaller and a bit tarnished.

No wonder she took the next three years off before heading back to the studio to cut her next and latest album. Let’s cut right to the chase; West is nothing like she has ever recorded. It’s as different from her last two albums as Car Wheels was from Sweet Old World. But then that has always been Williams’ modus operandi. Familiarity and continuity are qualities she has never aspired to. Rather than try and reinvent past successes, she opts instead to reinvent herself. She can’t help but veer off in new directions; you could say it’s what’s kept her from falling victim to the same disease that has plagued lesser artists.

In past albums, however, Williams’ music, and more to the point, her words always drew you in, no matter how rustic they sounded. There was an attractiveness and charm to her songs that carried the listener regardless of the subject matter. West is about as unattractive and charmless an album as she has ever attempted. Not that attractiveness and charm are necessary ingredients to artistic integrity. Some of the greatest artworks are ugly, when they’re not down-right offensive. Maybe that is the problem. The album is neither attractive nor ugly. Robert Christgau has called it dull; I disagree. But it is, to put it mildly, uninvolving, even distant. I have played it three times, and still don’t know quite what to make of it. And there in lies the problem. Nothing on West leaps out and grabs you. Sure she can still write better than just about anybody out there, with the exception of Dylan, and maybe Amy Rigby, but I find myself too often straining to find significance or meaning in her lyrical landscape. I find myself respecting the songs more than enjoying them. Sure “Are You Alright” is a great song – one of her best ever, but Williams can’t build off of it. She seems mired in technique rather than the gut instinct, which has historically served her so well.

On the whole, the album passes muster, but more on talent than on delivery. Lucinda Williams is still one of the finest singer/songwriters of hers or any generation. That West will not be included among her finest albums, probably says more about her past achievements and the subsequent expectations they set for us and for her, than for any specific short-comings the album itself may have. Bruce Springsteen had similar triumphs and disappointments. Between 1973 and 1987, he released his three best albums, one of which - Born in the USA - was among the finest rock albums ever. However, he also released Greetings From Asbury Park and Darkness on the Edge of Town, proof that even the great ones are capable of pedestrian efforts. If West turns out to be Williams' Darkness, well that's fine with me. Like Springsteen, it just proves she's only human after all.

2007-02-18T13:22:00.000-05:00

EVERY BASTARD HAS HIS DAY!

Tom Waits: Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards (Anti, 2006) A.

REMEMBER when you were in school, there was always that kid who sat in the corner of the room, who never seemed to belong, who never participated in any of the class functions, who seemed aloof – perhaps detached would be a better word. He looked weird, as though someone forget to dress him properly in the morning. His grades were good, his attendance record above average, but there was just something about the guy that prevented you from getting to know him. Even the bullies would keep their distance. Then someone would crack a joke and from the corner of the room you’d hear a snicker – a half-muted laugh - from the guy. He was paying attention after all, he heard every word that was being spoken; he just chose that precise moment to chime in with his own two cents.

For 33 years now Tom Waits has been that kid in the corner of the room. The weird outcast who just didn’t seem to belong. Ever since Closing Time critics have been trying to classify his music and have failed miserably. And like the snickering kid who got the joke, even when the rest of us didn’t, Waits just kept on recording music his way: weird, aloof, detached from any genre or sub-genre the biz could concoct.

Not that there haven’t been sign posts where his music veered off in new and divergent paths. Swordfishtrombones represented for two decades the demarcation point between his bohemian, gin-soaked jazz/blues days (OK, that’s as close as I can get to defining what it was!) and the eclectic troubadour artiste he has been morphing into ever since. Not unlike his early albums, the music and the singing were ugly, except now it all seemed to make sense. Like a glove the warped sense of humor his fans have always cherished most about him came together brilliantly. That it even came into existence in the first place was owed directly to the persistence of then girlfriend, now wife, Kathleen Brennan, who after Asylum rejected the record, and then subsequently dropped Waits, convinced Island Records to give it a shot. The rest as they say in the biz is history.

But, whatever one may think of that record’s virtues, and I for one thought it had many, success, even for a recluse can be a hard road to travel. Rain Dogs, the follow-up, began for Waits a vicious cycle of vying for either an identity beyond what he had created or a recapturing of the moment of his greatness. For once in his life, he was the one telling the joke not merely laughing at it. Almost over night he had gone from the guy bumming a cigarette off of a patron to being able to buy the whole house a round. You could say he didn’t care, but you’d be wrong. For the next dozen or so years, he struggled artistically, even as his film career soared. It wasn’t until Mule Variations, 16 years later, that he finally seemed to make peace with himself. Again Brennan’s hand was evident. While I generally loath direct comparisons the album is a cross between the melancholy of Closing Time and the hope-filled minimalism of Swordfishtrombones. Imagine, an album about romanticism that isn’t self-indulgent; what a concept!

What followed was, you guessed it, more vying. Blood Money, Alice, and Real Gone showed he was more the romantic of Closing Time than the hopeful troubadour of Swordfishtrombones. Of the three, Blood Money was my pick. I’ve always operated under the premise that when in doubt less is more. Waits, for me, has always been at his best when he has aimed low. Grandiosity has, more often than not, boomeranged on him. You could say it has been his ambition that has gotten the better of him. But give the man some credit; his refusal to give up on himself as been his greatest attribute. He is indelible, if nothing else.

Which of course brings us to the main event: a 3-CD, 54-song album that reeks of grandiosity if ever any album did. A good album? Well let’s just say I wasn’t holding my breath. Then I played the damn thing. It was as if 33 years of music suddenly coalesced in front of me. This is the album the man has had in him for four decades, and couldn’t – or wouldn’t – let out. I have always suspected Waits of having multiple personalities, musically at least. Well now there’s proof.

Whether you subscribe to the theory that he is a mad man with a sentimental side, or a romantic lush with a mean streak, Orphans is proof of that age-old story of the chicken and the egg. The simple truth was and is that Waits is both. That it took him 33 years to finally come up with it is yet one more example of his indelibility. True Orphans started as a collection of outtakes - only 30 of the 54 songs are new, with 14 of the remaining appearing on other albums - but it quickly developed beyond that. The result was as ambitious a project as Waits as ever undertaken.

Seldom have I heard lyrics that speak of anguish and redemption along side revenge and cruelty. It’s as if Waits is sorry for pulling that girl’s hair in class, while at the same time enjoying the pain of the moment. Listen to the man’s own words: “What’s Orphans? I don’t know. Orphans is a dead end kid driving a coffin with big tires across the Ohio River wearing welding goggles and a wife beater with a lit firecracker in his ear.” He has always been the smart ass who couldn’t let on that he was a smart ass. This is his coming out party, if you will.

Pick a song, and you’ll probably find something of yourself in it. Disc two, Bawlers, is my personal favorite, and not merely for the Johnny Cash song “Down There By The Train” which Waits finally reclaims as his own. No, what impresses me most is how completely naked and vulnerable Waits allows himself to be. However gifted his music may have been, Waits has always had a problem letting his hair down. He has been guarded when it came to his emotions. He didn’t mind laughing at someone else’s jokes, but he shied away from self-reflection. He could tell “Martha” how much he still loved her after “forty years or more”, but look in the mirror and ask the obvious question, “Dude, why are you still living in the past?” Never! I suspect the answer was that the engine behind Waits’ lyrics has always been the regret of what might have been. Pain was OK, so long as it was somebody else’s pain. On Swordfishtrombones, the girl he just couldn’t live without in “Johnsburg, Illinois” was as close as he’s ever gotten to letting us in. But just to make sure we didn’t think him a sap, the next song on that album was “16 Shells From a Thirty-Ought Six.” Waits could kill the ending to “Old Yeller” if you gave him half a chance.

Fortunately, on Orphans, his killer instinct, at least for now, has been shelved. The result is as secure and (gulp) mature an album as you will likely find. At 56, Waits has finally grown up. We finally get a chance to see him not as the recluse who didn’t fit in, but the scared kid that nobody bothered to get to know, who listened to everything everybody said, and who now has something relevant to say about his life that finally isn’t a punch line about somebody else’s. Like he says in the song, “I always take the long way home.” I’d say 33 years is long enough. Welcome home, Tom, stay a while.

2007-02-10T22:20:00.000-05:00

AT LAST, 2006 COMPLETE - FOR NOW!

WHERE IS THE PAZZ AND JOP SURVEY WHEN YOU NEED IT?

1. Bob Dylan: Modern Times (Columbia)
2. Ghostface Killah: Fishscale (Def Jam)
3. The Klezmatics: Wonder Wheel (JMG)
4. Tom Waits: Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards (Anti)
5. Rosanne Cash: Black Cadillac (Capitol)
6. Ornette Coleman: Sound Grammar (Sound Grammar)
7. The Streets: The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living (Vice/Atlantic)
8. Joanna Newsom: Ys (Drag City)
9. Outkast: Idlewild (LeFace)
10. Todd Snider: The Devil You Know (New Door)
11. Maria Muldaur: Heart of Mine: Love Songs of Bob Dylan (Telarc)
12. The Coup: Pick a Bigger Weapon (Epitaph)
13. Dr. John: Right Place, Right Time (Hyenna)
14. Wussy: Funeral Dress (Shake It)
15. Frank London’s Klezmer Brass Allstars: Carnival Conspiracy (Piranha)
16. The Gothic Archies: The Tragic Treasury: Songs From a Series of Unfortunate Events (Nonesuch)
17. Clipse: Hell Hath No Fury (Zomba/Star Trek/Re-Up Gang)
18. Jesus H. Christ and the Four Hornsmen of the Apocalypse (www.jesushchristrocks.com)
19. Arctic Monkeys: Whatever People Say I am, That’s What I’m Not (Domino)
20. Toumani Diabates Symmetric Orchestra: Boulevard de I’Independence (Nonesuch)
21. The Hold Steady: Boys and Girls in America (Vagrant)
22. Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins: Rabbit Fur Coat (Team Love)
23. Yo La Tengo: I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (Matador)
24. Belle & Sebastian: The Life Pursuit (Matador)
25. Kimya Dawson: Remember That I Love You (K)
26. Rhett Miller: The Believer (Verve Forecast)
27. Gnarls Barkley: St. Elsewhere (Downtown)
28. Beck: The Information (Interscope)
29. The Rapture: Pieces of the People We Love (Motown/Vertigo)
30.TV on the Radio: Return To Cookie Mountain (Interscope)
31. Rominca Puceanu & the Gore Brothers: Sounds From a Bygone Age, Vol 2 (Asphalt Tango)
32. Sonic Youth: Rather Ripped (Geffen)
33. The Handsome Family: Last Days of Wonder (Carrot Top)
34. The Go-Betweens: That Striped Sunlight Sound (Yep Roc)
35. Grandaddy: Just Like the Fambly Cat (V2)
36. Sir Douglas Quintet: Live From Austin, Tx (New West)
37. Public Enemy: Rebirth of a Nation (Guerrilla Funk)
38. Tom Ze: Estudando O Pagode (Luka Bop)
39. Pink: I'm Not Dead (LeFace/Zomba)
40. Thunderbirds Are Now!: Make History (Frenchkiss)

2007-01-06T11:06:00.000-05:00

Subjects for Further Research / Albums of Noteworthiness That Didn't Make the Grade / Oh Shit, Let's Call Them What They Are: DUDS!

JJ Cale and Eric Clapton: The Road To Escondido (Reprise/WEA, 2006). What made Layla so great was how effective Duane Allman was at forcing Eric out of his comfort zone, something he has had an aversion to most of his career. Since Cale is incapable of forcing even himself out of his own comfort zone, the results are two rather competent - but not passionate - musicians desperately trying to rekindle a flame that long ago was blown out. Terms like laid back and relaxed are disguises for going through the motions. And really, haven't we heard this shit from a dozen or so bar bands? Take away the artists from the cover, and what you have is a pretty pedestrian effort by two people who stopped carring a LONG time ago. C+

The Dixie Chicks: Taking the Long Way (Sony, 2006). I admire their political courage, and yes they have evolved beyond the cute babes they were originally marketed as, but with every lick of the guitar, every syllable that leaves their mouths, these "chicks" personify the worst of country. Neobluegrass, or whatever you prefer to call their style, it is pretentious and superfluous. They have a future in the Democratic party if they want, but musically, I'd vote them out of office! C

Sonya Kitchell: Words Came Back To Me (Velour, 2006). Trivia question: what do Corinne Bailey Rae, Ray LaMontagne, Madeleine Peyroux and KT Tunstall all have in common with Sonya Kitchell? Answer: they all hail from the Norah Jones' school of what I now call Light Adult-Contemporary music. Another word for this is Coffee-house Music. Their sound - hence Sonya's - never draws any ire, plays well in public places (Starbucks comes to mind) where conversation is casual and therefore isn't prone to interruption, and doesn't push any social buttons, i.e. never offends anyone's tastes. Add that she's only 17, and what you end up with is the darling of the year. I'm over reacting you say? The same thing happened to jazz over a decade ago, and now we have CD 101.9 to thank for the crap that passes for light jazz. If you can't handle Monk and Davis, or Dylan and Marley that's your problem, but don't call Kenny G jazz or Sonya Kitchell rock in front of me. Not unless you're looking for a beating! C

2006-12-31T17:08:00.000-05:00

As promised the album reviews of 2006, in no particular order.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The Hold Steady: Boys and Girls in America (Vagrant, 2006). “Stuck Between Stations” has the look and feel of a hit single, and knowing Craig Finn, he could care less. Hits are not what he’s about. Unlike so many other auteurs, whom emote about topics they’ve never even observed, much less experienced, Finn invites us into a world he knows first hand: a world where broken bottles and broken dreams are one in the same. His heroes – the kids, always the kids – struggle, fall and pick themselves up. Like the girl in “You Can Make Him Like You” who dumps her boyfriend when she finally gets tired of his drug use. Strangely depressing and uplifting at the same time, but what else could you expect from someone who stole the title of his album from a Jack Kerouac line? A-

The Gothic Archies: The Tragic Treasury: Songs From a Series of Unfortunate Events (Nonesuch, 2006). From the sublime to the ridiculous, Stephin Merritt has finally found someone more morbid than he. And the results speak for themselves. Merritt’s monotonous baritone complements the creepy writing of Lemony Snicket, who also plays accordion, brilliantly. 11 year olds may not be hip to the dreariness that lies within these songs, but my guess is most everybody else of consenting age will. Just check out some of the titles: “Scream and Runaway,” “The World is a Very Scary Place,” “Smile! No One Cares How You Feel,” and my personal favorite “Walking My Gargoyle.” Clearly, these “children’s” songs are not for the faint of heart, nor for anyone else who takes Merritt’s deadpan voice too seriously. Sweet dreams! A-

Maria Muldaur: Heart of Mine: Love Songs of Bob Dylan (Telarc, 2006). He’s been covered by The Byrds and gulp Olivia Newton John – quite a dichotomy! So, what’s so different and special about this effort? Well for one thing Muldaur isn’t trying to reinvent the songs; like the good interpreter she is, she allows the songs to come to her. What she does add to them is a mix of soul and blues to the world folk that Dylan invented. And because Dylan wasn’t merely a folkie his material is wide open for just about anyone with the heart and ear to grab it. In deed his greatest accomplishment was his ability to transcend the popular music scene altogether, and in so doing redefine for a whole generation what being an artist was truly about. Muldaur clearly gets it, too. Her love for the songs is surpassed only by her brilliant delivery of them. And you can tell she also loves the artist, too, a critical element to the success of any interpreter. A

2006-12-26T18:02:00.000-05:00

Top Albums of 2006 (1st go around)

Like I really need to say this. This list will be updated at some point during the next few weeks, as is my prerogative as a critic.
One change in format from last year: the A albums are in bold to separate them from the pack. As was the case last year I will follow with the long, overdue reviews of these albums over the next few weeks.

1. Bob Dylan: Modern Times (Columbia)
2. Ghostface Killah: Fishscale (Def Jam)
3. The Klezmatics: Wonder Wheel (JMG)
4. Tom Waits: Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards (Anti)
5. Rosanne Cash: Black Cadillac (Capitol)
6. The Streets: The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living (Vice/Atlantic)
7. Joanna Newsom: Ys (Drag City)
8. Outkast: Idlewild (LeFace)
9. Todd Snider: The Devil You Know (New Door)
10. Maria Muldaur: Heart of Mine: Love Songs of Bob Dylan (Telarc)
11. The Coup: Pick a Bigger Weapon (Epitaph)
12. Dr. John: Right Place, Right Time (Hyenna)
13. Wussy: Funeral Dress (Shake It)
14. Frank London’s Klezmer Brass Allstars: Carnival Conspiracy (Piranha)
15. The Gothic Archies: The Tragic Treasury: Songs From a Series of Unfortunate Events (Nonesuch)
16. Crunk Hits, Vol 2 (TVT)
17. Jesus H. Christ and the Four Hornsmen of the Apocalypse (www.jesushchristrocks.com)
18. Arctic Monkeys: Whatever People Say I am, That’s What I’m Not (Domino)
19. Toumani Diabates Symmetric Orchestra: Boulevard de I’Independence (Nonesuch)
20. The Hold Steady: Boys and Girls in America (Vagrant)
21. Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins: Rabbit Fur Coat (Team Love)
22. Yo La Tengo: I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (Matador)
23. Belle & Sebastian: The Life Pursuit (Matador)
24. Kimya Dawson: Remember That I Love You (K)
25. Rhett Miller: The Believer (Verve Forecast)
26. Gnarls Barkley: St. Elsewhere (Downtown)
27. Beck: The Information (Interscope)
28. The Rapture: Pieces of the People We Love (Motown/Vertigo)
29. Neko Case: Fox Confessor Brings the Flood (Anti)
30. Rominca Puceanu & the Gore Brothers: Sounds From a Bygone Age, Vol 2 (Asphalt Tango)
31. Sonic Youth: Rather Ripped (Geffen)
32. The Handsome Family: Last Days of Wonder (Carrot Top)
33. The Go-Betweens: That Striped Sunlight Sound (Yep Roc)
34. Grandaddy: Just Like the Fambly Cat (V2)
35. Sir Douglas Quintet: Live From Austin, Tx (New West)
36. Public Enemy: Rebirth of a Nation (Guerrilla Funk)
37. Tom Ze: Estudando O Pagode (Luka Bop)
38. The Strokes: First Impressions of Earth (RCA)
39. Pink: I'm Not Dead (LeFace/Zomba)
40. Thunderbirds Are Now!: Make History (Frenchkiss)

2006-09-10T15:17:00.000-04:00

DEVILS, BLOATS, OLD FARTS AND YIDDISH MARXISTS.

NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL ECLECTIC!

The following reviews are dedicated to Robert Christgau, who last week was “fired” by The Village Voice as part of a “restructuring.” For 37 years he inspired countless rock lovers and would-be critics with his wit and a painfully honest style of writing. Now he’s a free agent, a casualty of an industry that long ago stopped giving a shit about rock-n-roll.

Good luck, Robert. We will never forget your contributions, commitment or your passion.

Todd Snider: The Devil You Know (New Door, 2006). That Snider has become a troubadour of the underclass is a given; that he’s managed to develop into a substantial artist capable of transcending his art into a competent product and a vehicle that continues to draw new fans to him is the best damn news musically to hit the industry in years. What made East Nashville Skyline unique and great was Snider’s ability to be both funny and evoke rage at the same time. While it would be difficult for anyone to duplicate such an accomplishment, this comes damn close. My favorite song is “Looking For A Job,” about a worker who doesn’t take any shit. In the ‘70s John Prine tried his hand at this; but while Prine’s vision of Americana was definitely blue collar he never had the stomach or inclination to tackle politics. Snider could care less. He seems to revel in letting the world know where they can stick it. That the rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer irks him big time. He hates Bush, the religious right and any asshole who can’t see his logic. My kind of guy! A.

The Streets: The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living (Vice/Atlantic, 2006). An English hip-hop artist? Yeah, right. And then I listened carefully. Yeah, you’re damn right! Don’t let the accent fool you. Mike Skinner’s about as vacant and incorrigible as Kanye West. It’s about his women (how many he can get) and his drugs (how much he can buy). Check out “When You Wasn’t Famous,” in which he rhetorically asks, "How the hell am I supposed to be able to do a line in front of complete strangers when I know they've all got camera phones?" The lone exception to his debauchery is “Never Went To Church,” a tearful goodbye to his dad that evokes a rare glimpse into his softer side. Laugh at him if you must; deny him you can’t. A

Bob Dylan: Modern Times (Columbia, 2006). Even if you don’t buy the latter-day trilogy explanation – you know Time Out of Mind is Bringing It All Back Home; Love and Theft is Highway ’61 Revisited; and of course this is Blonde on Blonde – and I certainly don’t, there’s no escaping the fact that no other pop artist in the “modern” era has enjoyed such a reincarnation. To deny this, his latest masterpiece would be criminally stupid. Not only hasn’t he lost his ability to paint lyrical landscapes like no other poet of his time, if anything his pen has gotten sharper. There’s even a scant trace of his spiritual past in songs like “Spirit on the Water.” I always knew he would one day reconcile that period of his career. Since utopian optimism was never part of his meter, it is refreshing to hear him finally come to peace with his genius. Don’t make the mistake of comparing it to his earlier work; instead enjoy its country blues and rockabilly the way it was meant – on its own merits. A great album. A+

The Klezmatics: Wonder Wheel: Lyrics by Woody Guthrie (JMG, 2006). Like the Billy Bragg and Wilco compilations of a decade ago, these ageless poems, uncovered by Nora Guthrie, and put to music marvelously by Frank London reveal yet another chapter in the life of an iconic figure. Guthrie’s politics were legendary, but little was known of his spiritual roots until this act of love came along. Lorin Sklamberg’s vocals – among the finest ever, be they Yiddish or English – are the key here. Aided ably by Susan McKeown, the two feed off each other brilliantly. Though sung in English, the style is all klezmer; that is it lends itself to an Eastern European flavor steeped in the Yiddish folk tradition. A remarkable accomplishment that was seven years in the making. Clearly it was well worth the wait. A.

2006-07-09T21:40:00.000-04:00

AND THE TOP PICKS KEEP COMING!

The Go-Betweens: That Striped Sunlight Sound (Yep Roc, 2006). It portends Street Survivors if for no other reason than the timing (released four months prior to Grant’s passing). And like Lynyrd Skynyrd before them there is a cruel irony that gets played out here in that anyone who missed the boat the first time around now gets a chance to catch up and appreciate them for what they were: the wittiest and most prolific pair of popsters this side of Liverpool. The bonus DVD adds a special touch – check out the last interview with McLennan in which he comments on their future as a band. Their like will not soon be duplicated. A-

Jenny Lewis With the Watson Twins: Rabbit Fur Coat (Team Love, 2006). Fronting Rilo Kiley was easy for Lewis. She was the ultimate indie wet dream: hot, sexy, fearless, and with a tight band behind her. Flying solo is another thing. Her voice, not exactly her strongest asset, blossoms nicely here. It’s a cross between country-folk and R&B, and with Chandra and Leigh Watson helping out on harmonies, the result is an album that’s enjoyable and enchanting all at the same time. Yes, she still can’t resist telling us how bad she’s been “fucked up,” but I suspect her mourning days will soon be coming to an end. A-

2006-07-08T00:08:00.000-04:00

“It doesn't matter how far you come
You've always got further to go.”

- Grant McLennan

Some deaths are tragic: Buddy Holly, Otis Redding, Ronnie Van Zant, and Stevie Ray Vaughan. Some are inevitable: Frankie Lymon, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and, later, Kurt Cobain. Then, there are those deaths that seem strangely poetic in there happenstance, as though orchestrated by the gods, neither inevitable nor tragic, just matter of fact.

At the age of 48 Grant McLennan was seemingly at the apex of a career that had already once been reinvented. The six albums he and his partner Robert Forster had put out in the 1980s as the leaders of The Go-Betweens had done more than just deliver some of the wittiest and most mature songwriting of the decade; they single-handedly were responsible for creating a whole new genre of music that is now referred to as adult alternative. Groups like Belle and Sebastian, Luna, and even Yo La Tengo were quick to adopt elements of their style; a style that to this day still defies categorization. The band broke up in 1989 and both McLennan and Forster released notable, if somewhat, inconsistent albums throughout the 1990s.

In 2000 the band reformed, and it was during this period that McLennan’s song-craft soared to new heights. The two partners complemented each other as never before: Forster the more methodical and analytical paragon of reason, McLennan the hope-less but more often than not hope-filled romantic. It was a singer / songwriter partnership seldom seen in music – a latter day Lennon / McCartney, if you will. Somehow without Amanda Brown, whose backing vocals on Tallulah and 16 Lovers Lane – easily the Go-Betweens most commercially successful albums of the ‘80s - left an indelible if charming impact, the nakedness and vulnerability of the songs took on even greater prominence. 2005’s Oceans Apart was their crowning achievement as a tandem. In less than a year it had outsold all of their previous albums and had earned the band an Australian Grammy as best Adult Contemporary group.

Life could not have been more fulfilling for McLennan who was set to marry his girlfriend, Emma, and settle down in his native Brisbane, when on May 6th of this year he was struck down by a massive heart attack and pronounced dead.

Almost immediately the outcries began: “cruel, untimely, tragic.” But at the risk of sounding, well, sacrilegious, I’m not at all sure I concur with such outpourings, no matter how genuine the sentiment. Not that I’m not saddened by the loss of one of pop music’s most accomplished lyricists, I just choose to celebrate his genius. For it was Grant McLennan’s optimism, his profound sense of modesty, and his passion for life, all of which exuded throughout his music that made him the artist he was. And if that artist left us a bit earlier than he should have, in deed a good deal earlier than we would have preferred, well than at least he left us a whole lot richer for having been down the road.

In the end, I’m left not mourning his loss, but treasuring his accomplishments and contributions. If anything, the man I mourn for is his partner Robert Forster, who after 25 years will somehow have to reinvent a wheel none of us thought would need fixing for quite some time. Partners are hard to come by, especially partners as gifted as Grant McLennan.

2006-06-29T22:48:00.000-04:00

DON'T STOP ME NOW, I'M ON A ROLL!

Frank London's Klezmer Brass Allstars: Carnival Conspiracy (Piranha, 2006). The difference between your basic bar mitzvah band and the truly unique world-vision eastern-European Yiddish band the Klezmatics became famous for may be a fine line, but damn if London doesn't skirt it brilliantly. While I confess to being no expert on the history of the music, its Ukrainian folk roots aided by a mix of Brazilian rhythm put this album over the top for me. In deed, I'm thinking it's this years Gogol Bordello. A little less anarchic, but still steeped in the Gypsy tradition. A

Rhett Miller: The Believer (Verve Forecast, 2006). Like Paul Westerberg before him, he finds life in the solo lane to be both liberating and challenging at the same time. Unlike Westerberg, he's up for the challenge. While I still miss the Old 97's, if for no other reason that I still feel a good, tight band is both essential and rare these days, Miller's vocals can front better than most singers in the biz. And lyrically, he's matured quite nicely. In "Help Me, Suzanne" he laments, "I've been living on the memory of a dream I once had." And then he goes on to thank her for helping him find his way out of his despair. He's humble, if nothing else, another rare quality among otherwise talented singer/songwriters. A-

Arctic Monkees: Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (Domino, 2006). Musically, as well as lyrically, Alex Taylor reminds you of Kurt Cobain. There is a definite "Nevermind" connection here I can't quite get out of my head. And, like Nirvana before them, they have a penchant for the sardonic. Check out the lyrics in the "hit" track, "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor." "Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand." But my personal fave is "When the Sun Goes Down," if for no other reason than they poke fun of Sting: "And I've seen him with the girls of the night / and he told Roxanne to put on her red light." Anybody who can jump from Duran Duran to the Police, and who technically wasn't even born when those two groups were around is on to something I want to be a part of. A-

2006-06-17T14:54:00.000-04:00

IT'S ABOUT TIME!

Taking 4 months off from a hobby that at times seemed more work than delight, I thought it was time to come back and share some insight into some new releases this year. Even hobbyists have to show up for work sometimes!

Kimya Dawson: Remember That I Love You (K, 2006). Calling Dawson an acquired taste seems pointless at this stage. She is now one of the preeminent singer/songwriters of the decade. She's witty, sincere, and a champion of the minimalist school. She also has a way with words. Anyone who can put rhymes like adios, ghost, coast, host and toast in the same song and make them work has my heart. In deed she bares a strange resemblance to another square peg: Stephin Merritt. The cross she bares is the reason she's so beloved, and, while the human in me hopes she finally finds the peace that's been missing from her life, the critic is pulling for more of the same misery. Selfish perhaps, but then I also thought Amy Rigby was better when she was baring her soul from a bathroom stall. A-

Van Morrison: Pay the Devil (Lost Highway, 2006). It isn't that I don't think Van has it in him to go country; it's that he's taken the wrong cue from what country should be. Talk about missed opportunities. He'd have been better off if he had teamed up with Garth Brooks for a benefit album - "Hands Across Nashville" or something. Sure he covers Hank and George - who the hell doesn't these days. But for all his country boy / honky tonk mannerisms, Morrison never convinces you he's the genuine article. You can't talk about the glass unless you've drunk from it. Actually the problem here lies not in the material, but in the handling of it. So far as I know, only one artist in the modern era has successfully crossed over from pop to country and that was Ray Charles. Van, you ain't no Ray Charles! B-.

Dr. John: Right Place, Right Time (Hyena, 2006). Seldom does an album come along that just begs to be played non-stop, especially a live album. This 1989 gig recorded at New Orleans' Tipitina's during Mardi Gras is so unabashedly good, it makes me wish I'd been there to hear it live. My only complaint: it's too damn short. Pick a song, any song. It doesn't matter. The man is in his element - he should never be allowed back in a studio again! If and when New Orleans ever gets back up on its feet, we should all make it a point to here him live down in the Big Easy! A

Wussy: Funeral Dress (Shake It, 2006). If you think that just because Chuck Cleaver is imparting his remarkable falsetto voice that this is supposed to be another Ass Ponys' album, get real. Actually, about the only familiar thing here is Cleaver's voice, but that's where the comparison ends. Joined by Lisa Walker, who complements Cleaver brilliantly, this band is smart and clever the way good groups are supposed to be. Lyrically it's dark, but without getting too morbid, something the Ass Ponys dabbled a bit too much in for my taste. And musically, there's equal parts cowboy twang and bohemian hippy- sort of like the Flying Burrito Brothers meets the Velvet Underground. A near perfect album. A

2006-05-29T00:18:00.000-04:00

2005 AT LAST!

OK, so all it took was 5 months to finally come up with a top 40 for 2005.
You think this is easy? You try it!

1. Gogol Bordello: Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike (Side One Dummy).
2. The Rough Guide to the Music of the Sahara (World Music Network).
3. Thelonious Monk Quartet: Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall (Blue Note).
4. Our New Orleans: A Benefit Album for the Gulf Coast (Nonesuch).
5. The Go-Betweens: Oceans Apart (Yep Roc).
6. M.I.A.: Arular (Interscope).
7. Kanye West: Late Registration (Roc-A-Fella).
8. Sufjan Stevens: Illinois (Asthmatic Kitty).
9. The New Pornographers: Twin Cinema (Matador).
10. Ani DiFranco: Knuckle Down (Righteous Babe).
11. The Hold Steady: Separation Sunday (Frenchkiss)
12. The White Stripes: Get Behind Me, Satan (V2).
13. Amadou & Miriam: Dimanche a Bamako (Nonesuch).
14. Sleater-Kinney: The Woods (Sub Pop).
15. The Chemical Brothers: Push the Button (Astralwerks).
16. The Perceptionists: Black Dialogue (Def Jux).
17. Clem Snide: End of Love (Spin Art).
18. Lizz Wright: Dreaming Wide Awake (Verve).
19. Bright Eyes: I'm Wide Awake (Saddle Creek).
20. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah).
21. Spoon: Gimmie Fiction (Merge).
22. Amy Rigby: Little Fugitive (Signature Sounds).
23. Cheb I Sabbah: La Kahena (Six Degrees).
24. The Ponys: Celebration Castle (In the Red).
25. Missy Elliott: The Cookbook (Atlantic/Goldmind).
26. Stevie Wonder: A Time To Love (Motown).
27. Bruce Springsteen: Devils and Dust (Columbia).
28. Loudon Wainwright III: Here Come the Choppers (Sovereign Arts).
29. Daby Balde: Introducing Daby Balde (World Music Network).
30. Neil Young: Prairie Wind (Reprise).
31. Fiona Apple: Extraordinary Machine (Epic/Cleanslate).
32. Danger Doom: The Mouse and the Mask (Epitaph).
33. Franz Ferdinand: You Could Have It So Much Better (Domino).
34. James McMurtry: Childish Things (Compadre).
35. Art Brut: Bang Bang Rock & Roll (Banana Recordings).
36. 50 Cent: The Massacre (Shady/Aftermath/Interscope).
37. Wide Right: Sleeping on the Couch (Poptop).
38. Bell Orchestre: Recording a Tape the Colour of the Light (Rough Trade).
39. Four Tet: Everything Ecstatic (Domino).
40. My Morning Jacket: Z (ATO/RCA).

2006-02-15T21:49:00.000-05:00

In With the New.

Some new music for the new year.

Rosanne Cash: Black Cadillac (Capitol, 2006). With the loss of her step mother and both parents all within the space of two years, this is her loving memorial, if you will. In the title track she laments, "one of us gets to go to heaven, one has to stay here in hell." While in "I Was Watching You," she looks down from heaven at her parents wedding day and then watches their marriage fall apart knowing there's nothing she can do to stop it. As the sole matriarch of a family of tragedies and triumphs she finally comes to grips with her past, and accepts the truth that long after life there's still love; the love of her husband and kids; the love of her daddy who is still watching over her. Her grief is transcended finally by her father's faith. A faith that is now hers to bare. This is her finest album since Interiors, and its courage is as undeniable as it is redemptive. A

Belle & Sebastian: The Life Pursuit (Matador, 2006). The evolution of Stuart Murdoch continues. If their fans thought Dear Catastrophe Waitress was a betrayal of their '60s signature sound, then this year's edition will only rile them further. The departure of Isobel Campbell means it's truly Murdoch's band again, not that that was ever in doubt. While "Another Sunny Day" and "Dress Up In You" are the sentimental favorites here, what sets this album apart from the rest and, maybe, brings them the notoriety they've been looking for, are the risky tunes like "The Blues Are Still Blue" and "White Collar Boy," the former exhibiting traces of '70s glam rock, the latter reminiscent of the Pet Shop Boys. Equal parts diverse and divisive, they prove that those who live in the past die in the past. A-

The Strokes: First Impressions of Earth (RCA, 2006). "I've got nothing to say/I've got nothing to say/I've got nothing to say," Julian Casablancas moans over and over on "Ask Me Anything." But lyrics have never been this band's strong suit anyway; it's always been the hard-edged guitar playing that put them over. After three years they go for a slightly tighter, more rock, less grunge, sound. Contrary to the pundits who keep trying to link them with Franz Ferdinand - absurd if only because Alex Kapranos isn't the singer Casablancas is and the Strokes play harder and more consistent - this sounds strangely reminiscent of U2 circa 1984, only better. In deed on "On the Other Side," Casablancas seems determined to become a Bono clone, with the exception that unlike the former, Casablancas isn't nearly as optimistic about us humans, which means he isn't a utopian. Being the realist I am, I'll take the latter's word for it. A-

2006-02-13T20:37:00.000-05:00

REBELS WITH A CAUSE!

Steve Earle: Jerusalem (Artemis, 2002). Even in his earlier days, back when he courted the same audience that Dwight Yoakam and John Anderson used to own, Earle was sort of a rebel rouser. His class-consciousness earned him high praises from rock critics, but down in Nashville he was thought of as a light-weight Joe Ely. His addiction to heroine, combined with a propensity for shooting off his mouth, earned him a reputation as a radical. Jerusalem will certainly do nothing to quell his critics. If anything, with songs like "John Walker's Blues" and the title track, he's more likely to incite them. With a plethora of post 9/11 albums, all seeking to somehow make sense out of senseless violence, Earle's courage comes off as genuine. And even if it does cost him at the cash register - Wal-Mart has threatened not to carry the album - in the end history will be on his side. A.

Todd Snider: East Nashville Skyline (Oh Boy, 2004). America's favorite smart ass is back for more abuse. At 34 he dares call himself an old-timer, and you know what, with the personal battles he's had to endure, he probably is. Anyone who can flip off the moral majority "Conservative Christians" and cover a Guy Lombardo song "Enjoy Yourself" all in the same album is a dude on a serious mission. But what separates Snider from the rest of the pack is how he combines his humor with his anger. Like the troubadour he is, Snider brings his characters to life, and then reduces them to satirical rubble. If Loudon Wainwright came from the South, he might sound like Snider. Then again if Wainwright had hailed from the South, he might not have taken himself so seriously. Imagine, a hippie for the 21st century you can trust. A

2006-02-07T18:43:00.000-05:00

The Best of the 1970s: The dawning of the age of the Singer/Songwriter, as well as the rise and fall of Album-Oriented Rock and Disco.

This was the decade that ushered in and out three profound genres. Name me another decade that saw the likes of Led Zeppelin, Van Morrison, and the Bee Gees fight over who's stamp would define it better and I'll show you, well, you know what, forget it. There was no other decade like this.

And yet, in many respects, this was a terrible decade for creativity. Save for the Joni Mitchells, the John Prines and the Stevie Wonders, this was a very narrow-minded decade. Unlike, its predecessor (the '60s) and its benefactor (the '80s) the 1970s were as predictable as dirt. No sooner had AOR exploded on the scene in late '69 than it began to fizzle out within a few years; by 1975 it was in its death throws, replaced by the early new wave/punk movement. Disco, too, became of a victim of its own fame. By 1979, it had become the nation's number one trivia joke. And yet there were some marvelous moments in this decade that are as timeless as Richard Nixon sweating on the camera. Behold, I give you a top 40 look at the "Me" decade.

1. The Rolling Stones: Exile on Main Street (Rolling Stones, 1972).
2. Miles Davis: A Tribute to Jack Johnson (Columbia, 1971).
3. Derek and the Dominos: Layla (Atco, 1970).
4. Bob Dylan/The Band: The Basement Tapes(Columbia, 1975).
5. Al Green: Call Me (Hi, 1973).
6. Sly and the Family Stone: There's a Riot Goin' On (Epic, 1971).
7. Randy Newman: 12 Songs (Reprise, 1970).
8. Neil Young: Rust Never Sleeps (Reprise, 1979).
9. Paul Simon: Paul Simon (Columbia, 1972).
10. Television: Marque Moon (Elektra, 1977).
11. Eno: Another Green World (Island, 1976).
12. Joni Mitchell: For the Roses (Asylum, 1972).
13. Van Morrison: Moondance (Warner Bros., 1970)
14. Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic (MCA, 1974).
15. Nick Lowe: Pure Pop for Now People (Columbia, 1978).
16. The Wild Tchoupitoulas: The Wild Tchoupitoulas (Island, 1976).
17. New York Dolls: In Too Much Too Soon (Mercury, 1974).
18. Rod Stewart: Every Picture Tells a Story (Mercury, 1971).
19. Graham Parker and the Rumour Squeezing Out Sparks (Arista, 1979).
20. The Who: Who's Next (MCA, 1971).
21. Jimmy Cliff, et al: The Harder They Come (Mango, 1973).
22. Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band: Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band (RCA Victor, 1976).
23. Bonnie Raitt: Give It Up (Warner Bros., 1972).
24. John Prine: Sweet Revenge (Atlantic, 1973).
25. Stevie Wonder Innervisions (Tamla, 1973).
26. Bob Marley and the Wailers: Burnin' (Island, 1974).
27. Patti Smith: Horses (Arista, 1975).
28. Gram Parsons: Grievous Angel (Reprise, 1974).
29. Aretha Franklin: Young, Gifted and Black (Atlantic, 1972).
30. The Sex Pistols: Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols (Warner Bros., 1977).
31. James Brown: Sex Machine (King, 1970).
32. The Clash: The Clash (Epic, 1979).
33. Fleetwood Mac: Rumours (Reprise, 1977).
34. Talking Heads: More Songs About Buildings and Food (Sire, 1978).
35. Big Star: Radio City (Ardent, 1974).
36. Creedence Clearwater Revival: Cosmos Factory (Fantasy, 1970).
37. Michael Jackson: Off the Wall (Epic, 1979).
38. Bruce Springsteen: Born to Run (Columbia, 1975).
39. Blondie: Parallel Lines (Chrysalis, 1978).
40. John Lennon: Imagine (Apple, 1971).

2006-02-07T10:40:00.000-05:00

The Best of the 1980s: Indie Meets Major!

I don't know about you, but I found this to be, overall, the best decade in pop music. It was diverse, transitional, unconventional, and, at the same time, popular. Not since the 1960s has there been such an influx of divergent musical genres and styles. It was tough choosing only 40, but here goes.

1. The Indestructible Beat of Soweto (Shanachie, 1986).
2. The Clash: London Calling (Epic, 1980).
3. Bruce Springsteen: Born in the U.S.A. (Columbia, 1984).
4. DeBarge: In a Special Way (Gordy, 1983).
5. Ornette Coleman: Of Human Feelings (Antilles, 1982).
6. Mekons: Fear and Whiskey (Sin import, 1985).
7. Lucinda Williams: Lucinda Williams (Rough Trade, 1988).
8. Public Enemy: It Takes a Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back (Def Jam, 1988).
9. Prince: Sign O' the Times (Paisley Park, 1987).
10. X: Wild Gift (Slash, 1981).
11. Marshall Crenshaw: Field Day (Warner Bros., 1983).
12. James Blood Ulmer: Odyssey (Columbia, 1983).
13. Franco & Rochereau: Omona Wapi (Shanachie, 1985).
14. Laurie Anderson: Strange Angels (Warner Bros., 1989).
15. The Replacements: Let It Be (Twin/Tone, 1984).
16. Robert Cray Band: Strong Persuader (Mercury, 1986).
17. Talking Heads: Remain in Light (Sire, 1980).
18. King Sunny Ade & His African Beats: Juju Music (Mango, 1982).
19. Sonny Rollins: G-Man (Milestone, 1987).
20. Elvis Costello: Trust (Columbia, 1981).
21. Beastie Boys: Licensed To Ill (Def Jam, 1986).
22. Sonic Youth: Daydream Nation (Enigma/Blast First, 1988).
23. Aretha Franklin: Who's Zoomin' Who? (Arista, 1985).
24. The Blasters: Non Fiction (Slash, 1983).
25. The English Beat: Wha'ppen (Sire, 1981).
26. Neil Young: Freedom (Reprise, 1989).
27. George Clinton: Computer Games (Capitol, 1982).
28. Husker Du: Flip Your Wig (SST, 1985).
29. Paul Simon: Graceland (Warner Bros., 1986).
30. Remmy Ongala & Orchestre Super Matimila: Songs for the Poor Man (RealWorld, 1989).
31. De La Soul: Three Feet High and Rising (Tommy Boy, 1989).
32. Pere Ubu: The Tenament Year (Antone's, 1988).
33. Go-Betweens: Tallulah (Big Time, 1987).
34. Lou Reed: New Sensations (RCA Victor, 1984).
35. Richard and Linda Thompson: Shoot Out the Lights (Hannibal, 1982).
36. Gang of Four: Solid Gold (Warner Bros., 1981).
37. Professor Longhair: Crawfish Fiesta (Alligator, 1980).
38. Ambitious Lovers: Greed (Virgin, 1988).
39. Los Lobos: How Will the Wolf Survive? (Slash, 1984).
40. Michael Jackson: Thriller (Epic, 1982). *

* P.S. There could easily have been another 5 or 10 albums I could've put here, but in the end to have denied him his accomplishment would've been flat out wrong.

2006-02-04T22:41:00.000-05:00

2005's Honorable Mention

Picking only 30 albums was difficult. In light of that I thought it only fair to list the albums that would've made it had the list been a top 40.

Fiona Apple: Extraordinary Machine (Epic/Cleanslate).
Danger Doom: The Mouse and the Mask (Epitaph).
Franz Ferdinand: You Could Have It So Much Better (Domino).
James McMurtry: Childish Things (Compadre).
Art Brut: Bang Bang Rock & Roll (Banana Recordings).
The Perceptionists: Black Dialogue (Def Jux).
My Morning Jacket: Z (ATO/RCA).
Bell Orchestre: Recording a Tape the Colour of the Light (Rough Trade).
Wide Right: Sleeping on the Couch (Poptop).
Four Tet: Everything Ecstatic (Domino).

Life is cruel sometimes

2006-02-02T13:46:00.000-05:00

TWO-FERS:

Two albums each from various artists over the last three decades.

R.E.M.: Lifes Rich Pageant (I.R.S., 1986). Not content to leave his lyrics in the dominion of obscurity, Michael Stipe finally enunciates and the result is not only an album that’s covertly political (Murmur), but one that’s overtly political as well. At the same time it’s also their most popular effort. But for all the accolades “Fall on Me” earn them – and they certainly deserve it – it’s the more blunt songs like “These Days” and “The Flowers of Guatemala” that boil my juices. Their socialism is real, as is their ambition, and while this is not quite as potent as their debut, for staying power, it's right up there. A-

R.E.M.: Document (I.R.S., 1987). For the record “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” is the finest song they’ve done, but for most of this “major breakthrough” I find myself wondering what all the fuss is about. Sure “The One I Love” finally puts them on the charts like I’ve always suspected they’ve yearned to be, but too much of this album gets in its own way. I’m forced to admit, I liked them better when I couldn’t figure out what they were trying to say! B+

The Ponys: Laced With Romance (In the Red, 2004). I’ll admit “Let’s Kill Ourselves” is not the best way to start off an album, but if that’s your mantra then I say go for it. Jared Gummere is the most unassuming and, sadly, anemic lead singer in rock these days. But don’t let that distract you. As I recall Tom Verlaine didn’t have the best chops in his day and he did OK. The sound is reminiscent of The Jesus and Mary Chain, only somewhat less focused. As a pet owner, I’m taken by “Little Friends,” a song about their cats who can’t seem to find the litter box. And then there’s the lead in to “Fall In,” that’s lifted directly off the classic Crystal’s song “And Then He Kissed Me” that I hope doesn’t land them in copyright jail. A-

The Ponys: Celebration Castle (In the Red, 2005). Up and comers like Jared Gummere are always overcompensating for what they think others want; it’s the nature of the biz, even for indies. So if this follow-up doesn’t sound as firm / raw as their debut don’t fret. It wasn’t supposed to. They’re pioneers forging their own road. Don’t confuse their softness with a lack of spine. At heart they’re still the same garage band you fell in love with in album one. If anything I find this aims higher, which is fine by me. A-

Ani DiFranco: Not a Pretty Girl (Righteous Babe, 1995). Skirting the line between self-indulgent brat and ideological champion - whatever the hell that means these days – DiFranco has made a career out of deprecating on every part of her body from her face to her toes. But before you pronounce her the next Janis Ian, note that at least DiFranco goes somewhere with her pity. She spews, but she channels as well. Sure it may piss you off to no end that a 24 year old should be that concerned with appearance, but DiFranco is a product of her generation, as well as its spokesperson. Show me a 20 something woman who isn’t overly preoccupied with her looks and I’ll show you Tracy Chapman. A-

Ani DiFranco: Dilate (Righteous Babe, 1996). This is what Alanis Morissette could’ve been if she had stopped whining long enough. Sure, DiFranco is no stranger to pity either, but she transcends such indulgences better than her contemporaries. Here, she is finally comfortable in her own skin. At 25 she has eight albums to her credit and damned if this isn’t the signature breakthrough her fans have been swearing every album would be since she arrived on the scene. The highlights are a seemingly never-ending “Amazing Grace” and “Untouchable Face,” which sports the most cutting “fuck you” in all of popdum. She’s vulnerable and clever, and she has integrity, something a lot of singer/songwriters like her could use. A

Belle & Sebastian: The Boy With the Arab Strap (Matador, 1998). Like Dean Wareham before him, Stuart Murdoch's obsession with the Velvet Underground has earned him high praise from critics the world round. If nothing else, Murdoch sings better than Lou Reed ever did. And Isobel Campbell certainly holds her own against Nico. But its Murdoch's guile and cynicism that set him apart from his predecessors, not to mention his contemporaries. Few artists paint such intriguing, yet caustic, lyrical landscapes. "He had a stroke at the age of 24 / It could've been a brilliant career," is how the opening track starts. And his love affair with strings - "Dirty Dream Number Two" - proves it is possible to successfully merge the guitar with the cello, something the Moody Blues failed miserably at. Beautiful and mystical both at the same time. A

Belle & Sebastian: Dear Catastrophe Waitress (Sanctuary, 2003). The first pass over this album brought skepticism from my already skeptical heart. I smelled sellout, and for a group like this, that could mean the end of everything. After all these guys don't really have a plan B. But when I played it a couple more times, it started to creep up on me. The "lo-fi" sound that served them so well over their first three releases has been replaced with a more uptempo, livelier sound. The lone exception "Asleep on a Sunbeam" a pleasant retreat for old times sake. For those looking to categorize this entry call it The Velvet Underground meets The Left Banke. Original grade A. A-

Tom Waits: Alice (Anti, 2002). Ever since Closing Time, Waits has been trying to recapture the sentimentality he's always desired, while mixing in a bit of his naturally sardonic wit. He's nailed it once - 1983's Swordfishtrombones - and almost had it with 1999's Mule Variations. Trouble is, Waits doesn't pull off sentiment very well; he's about as genuine with a love song as Robert Plant is with a doo-wop tune. True, his wife and co-producer, Kathleen Brennan, whom Waits calls the love of his life, is as much responsible as anyone for his artistic success. Most, if not all, of these songs date back to 1992, the year he released Bone Machine, another aborted attempt to recapture a nostalgic past he can't seem to rid himself of. But that has always been Waits' problem and, when it works, his vehicle. He still loves that "Ol' '55" as much, if not more so, than that girl in "Johnsburg, Illinois." He just can't help himself. His fans may forgive him and allow him that retreat into nostalgia. Me, I like my love songs a little more current. B.

Tom Waits: Blood Money (Anti, 2002). When he isn't penning some of the corniest love songs known to human kind, Waits dabbles in another of his time-honored traditions: despair. The man knows how to crash a party better than anybody I know. Where Alice paints a hopeless romantic lost in a world he doesn't seem to have the courage to blow up, here his sights appear to be less grandiose. He seems so much more comfortable in his own skin with the knowledge that life sucks. And why shouldn't he? He's made a career out of it. No matter how many dedicated devotees swear that Alice is his great, long-awaited, masterpiece, pound for pound, this is a far more consistent album. I'll take his "Misery is the River of the World" any day over his "Poor Edward." A-.

2006-01-30T18:41:00.000-05:00

The Best of 2002

The year after 9/11. Yes, the world went on after all!

1. The Mekons: OOOH!
2. DJ Shadow: The Private Press
3. Kimya Dawson: I'm Sorry That Sometimes I'm Mean
4. Northern State: Dying in Stereo
5. Cornershop: Handcream for a Generation
6. Sleater-Kinney: One Beat
7. Orchestra Baobab: Specialist in All Styles
8. Kasey Chambers: Barricades & Brickwalls
9. Spoon: Kill the Moonlight
10. Youssou N'Dour: Nothing's in Vain (Coono du reer)
11. Rhett Miller: The Instigator
12. Johnny Cash: American IV: The Man Comes Around
13. Steve Earle: Jerusalem
14. The Mountain Goats: Tallahassee
15. Tom Waits: Blood Money
16. Mr. Lif: I Phantom
17. Will Rigby: Paradoxaholic
18. Pretty Girls Make Graves: Good Health
19. Luna: Close Cover Before Striking
20. The Bottle Rockets: Songs of Sahm
21. Pretenders: Loose Screw
22. The Reputation: The Reputation
23. The Go-Betweens: Spring Hill Fair
24. Ryan Adams: Demolition
25. The Handsome Family: Live at Schuba's Tavern

2006-01-27T20:10:00.000-05:00

An admirer - OK it's me - writes: "Your style is reminiscent of Robert Christgau of the Village Voice. You mentioned his influence early on in your blog. Were there any other critics who impacted your style? More to the point, why was it so necessary to "borrow" from them in the first place?"

Actually the first critic that I remember reading was Wayne Robbins in Newsday during the late '70s. For the first time I was introduced to music I had never heard before from artists such as Television, the Talking Heads, and Elvis Costello. I was fascinated that any one was actually writing about contemporary rock music in such an insightful way. I learned so much from reading these reviews that it made me hungry for more.

I stumbled on to Robert Christgau quite by accident. I picked up an issue of The Village Voice one day in February 1982, and read the annual "Pazz and Jop" critics poll. All of a sudden there were all these different types of music that I had never considered. I couldn't put it down; I easily devoured the whole issue. Later on that year I bought Christgau's book on '70s rock albums and the race was on. Between reading his reviews on '70s music and reading his monthly consumer guide, I dare say I ran through half my weekly paycheck just keeping up with buying records. I averaged about 90 plus LPs a year for the next 8 years.

Christgau was like no other critic in that he skirted the line between fan and objective observer better than any body out there. He was passionate about music but careful not to let it cloud his judgment, something that, sadly, most critics fail miserably at. In the 20 plus years that I have been reading him I have never found any one else who is as consistent, unbiased, and reliable as he is. If I approach 50% of what he has attained during the last 38 years, I will consider myself fortunate.

As for borrowing from him or others, I believe we all borrow from others to some extent. There has always been a love/hate relationship between Americans and critics. People love to read about their favorite movie or piece of music, until that is they find said movie or music has been panned. At that point they get all bent out of shape. But at heart we are all critics; each of us has an opinion and a mouth to share it. I think what pisses people off is that critics get paid to share their opinions and most of us don't.

Well, I thank me for sharing my question and sincerely hope that some one - any one - sends me another.

Until then, keep on listening!

2006-01-26T12:11:00.000-05:00

The Best of 2003.

Now that I'm on a roll here, why stop?

1. Liz Phair: Liz Phair (Capitol).
2. OutKast: Speakerboxx/The Love Below (Arista).
3. Buck 65: Talkin' Honky Blues (WEA).
4. Fountains of Wayne: Welcome Interstate Managers (S-Curve).
5. James Carter: Gardenias for Lady Day (Sony).
6. Lucinda Williams: World Without Tears (Lost Highway).
7. The Libertines: Up the Bracket (Rough Trade).
8. The Wrens: The Meadowlands (Absolutely Kosher).
9. Missy Elliott: This Is Not a Test (Elektra).
10. Amy Rigby: Til the Wheels Fall Off (Signature Sounds).
11. Amy Allison: No Frills Friend (Diesel Only).
12. Warren Zevon: The Wind (Artemis).
13. Pretty Girls Make Graves: The New Romance (Matador).
14. Yo La Tengo: Summer Sun (Matador).
15. The Shins: Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop).
16. Belle & Sebastian: Dear Catastrophe Waitress (Sanctuary).
17. Drive-By Truckers: Decoration Day (New West).
18. James Blood Ulmer: No Escape From the Blues (Hyena).
19. Lifesavas: Spirit in Stone (Quannum Projects).
20. The Strokes: Room on Fire (RCA).
21. Kimya Dawson: My Cute Friend Sweet Princess (Important).
22. Rancid: Indestructible (Hellcat).
23. The Bottle Rockets: Blue Sky (Sanctuary).
24. The Go-Betweens: Bright Yellow, Bright Orange (Jetset).
25. Jon Langford and His Sadies: Mayors of the Moon (Bloodshot).
26. Al Green: I Can't Stop (Blue Note).
27. Todd Snider: Todd Snider Live: Near Truths and Hotel Rooms (Oh Boy).
28. The Rapture: Echoes (Strummer/Universal).
29. Super Mama Djombo: Super Mama Djombo (Cobiana).
30. The Klezmatics: Rise Up/Shteyt Oyf (Rounder).

2006-01-26T09:49:00.000-05:00

The 1990s.

Lately I've been feeling like this is the most misunderstood decade in rock music. New wave, grunge, hip-hop, alternative, all these genres and more pervaded the decade. Unlike the '80s, it was not a very popular decade, and yet I found myself listening to more challenging and enriching music than at any time since I spun my first 45.

Here is a list of some of the best albums. Those that do not have reviews will receive them in due time.

1. David Murray: Shakill's Warrior (DIW/Columbia, 1991).
2. Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road (Mercury, 1998). See review, Sept. 2005.
3. Tricky: Maxinquaye (Island, 1995). See review, Sept. 2005.
4. Guitar Paradise of East Africa (Earthworks, 1991).
5. Iris DeMent: My Life (Warner Bros., 1994). See review, Sept. 2005.
6. DJ Shadow: Endtroducing . . . DJ Shadow (Mo Wax, 1996).
7. Freedy Johnston: Can You Fly (Bar/None, 1992). See review, Sept. 2005
8. Sonic Youth: A Thousand Leaves (Geffen, 1998).
9. Latin Playboys: Latin Playboys (Slash/Warner Bros., 1994).
10. Mzwakhe Mbuli: Resistance Is Defence (Earthworks, 1992).
11. Moby: Play (V2, 1999).
12. Arto Lindsay: Mundo Civilizado (Bar/None, 1997).
13. Fugees: The Score (Ruffhouse/Columbia, 1996). See review, Nov.2005
14. Luna: Penthouse (Elektra, 1995).
15. Sleater-Kinney: Dig Me Out (Kill Rock Stars, 1997).
16. Liz Phair: Exile in Guyville (Matador, 1993).
17. The Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs (Merge, 1999).
18. Billy Bragg & Wilco: Mermaid Avenue (Elektra, 1998).
19. Yo La Tengo: I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One (Matador, 1997).
20. Amy Rigby: Diary of a Mod Housewife (Koch, 1996). See review, Oct. 2005
21. L.L. Cool J: Mama Said Knock You Out (Def Jam, 1990).
22. Nirvana: In Utero (DGC, 1993).
23. Beck: Mellow Gold (Bong Load/DGC, 1994).
24. Pixies: Bossanova (4AD/Elektra, 1990).
25. PJ Harvey: Rid of Me (Indigo, 1993).
26. James Carter: The Real Quietstorm (Atlantic, 1995).
27. John Prine: In Spite of Ourselves (Oh Boy, 1999).
28. P.M. Dawn: The Bliss Album . . . ? (Gee Street, 1993). See review, Nov. 2005
29. Pavement: Slanted and Enchanted (Matador, 1992).
30. Rosanne Cash: Interiors (Columbia, 1990). See review, Oct. 2005
31. Linton Kwesi Johnson: Tings and Times (Shanachie, 1991).
32. L7: Bricks are Heavy (Slash, 1992).
33. Archers of Loaf: Vee Vee (Alias, 1995).
34. Cornershop: When I Was Born for the Seventh Time (Luka Bop, 1997).
35. Lauryn Hill: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (Ruffhouse, 1998).
36. Public Enemy: Fear of a Black Planet (Def Jam, 1990).
37. R.E.M.: Out of Time (Warner Bros., 1991).
38. Madonna: I'm Breathless (Sire/Warner Bros., 1990).
39. Old 97's: Fight Songs (Elektra, 1999).
40. Fluffy: Black Eye (Capitol, 1996).

2006-01-23T17:43:00.000-05:00

THE REST OF THE BEST

Stevie Wonder: A Time To Love (Motown, 2005). By the time he was 27, yes 29 years ago, he had managed to grip the music industry by the short hairs. Few of his contemporaries could even dream of such accomplishments, yet alone live them out. Among the singer/ songwriter crowd only Dylan surpasses him. But as quickly as his star rose, his decline came just as quickly. 1979's Hotter Than July and 87's Characters were the highlights of a dwindling career that had even his most ardent of admirers wondering if the boy Wonder had packed it in. Like Springsteen before him, this album was his catharsis; a journey out of the past and into a relevant present. The melodies, always his strength, don't disappoint. And his politics, never fearful, are biting. On "If Your Love Cannot Be Moved" his words are a haunting warning: "You can't free the slaves to enslave them differently / You can't see the right only from your sight / You can't see the wrong and just go along." From lesser men the words would come off as disingenuous; with Stevie you "wonder" what took him so long. A-

Lizz Wright: Dreaming Wide Awake (Verve, 2005). At first this had the look and feel of a Cassandra Wilson album - all jazz and no soul. Then I played it again, and that was where I found the beauty of the record. Wright's voice, rough yet gentle, is the stuff singers sell their eye teeth for. Relieved from needing to sound cute, she emotes freely and sincerely. And she's also pretty damn good at covering / interpreting tunes, too. She even manages to do something with a Youngblood's song. This is what Norah Jones could be if she took the risk of not sounding "pretty." I never had the chance to hear Wright's debut, Salt, an oversight on my part that I hope to correct soon. For now buy this album. A-

Missy Elliott: The Cookbook (Atlantic/Goldmind, 2005). Like Liz Phair, Elliott not only doesn't know her "rightful" place in the scheme of things, but seems to relish the attention her defiance causes. This is one hip-hop diva who could out "fuck" any of her contemporaries and still crave more. And while she's busy satisfying her cravings she warns all the "Mr. Rights" that so long as they don't cheat or sleep around they can work that "magic stick" for her any time. This is one woman with a sweet tooth. Just don't ask her to go into the kitchen and cook for you; it might just be you in that pot. A-

2006-01-20T22:31:00.000-05:00

IT'S YOUR TURN!

Now that the site has been up and running for four months now, I thought I'd give those of you at home a chance to chime in with your questions about rock-n-roll, assuming, that is, that there's any body out there reading my stuff!

Just place your question in the comments section, or if you prefer you can email me at feego1@optonline.net. I'll do my best to answer every question that comes my way. And while I don't profess to be an expert on any particular genre, as you can plainly see, I am opinionated. My opinions come from listening to loads of music since my childhood.

Anxiously awaiting contact!

2006-01-16T19:35:00.000-05:00

THE BEST OF 2004.

Nothing like burning the candle at both ends, I say.
While I'm not bailing on the completion of 2005's reviews, I thought I'd take a ride through the "Wayback Machine" and see what albums did it for me the year Bush did it to the country!

1. Kanye West: The College Dropout (Roc-A-Fella).
2. The Roots of Rock 'n' Roll 1946 - 1954 (Hip-O).
3. Jon Langford: All the Fame of Lofty Deeds (Bloodshot).
4. Todd Snider: East Nashville Skyline (Oh Boy).
5. Madvillian Madvilliany (Stones Throw).
6. The Mountain Goats: We Shall All Be Healed (4AD).
7. Ray Charles: Genius Loves Company (Concord/Hear Music).
8. Nellie McKay: Get Away From Me (Columbia).
9. The Reputation: To Force a Fate (Lookout).
10. The Arcade Fire: Funeral (Merge).
11. Rilo Kiley: More Adventurous (Brute/Beaute).
12. Thelonoius Monster: California Clam Chowder (Lakeshore).
13. Automato: Automato (Coup de Grace).
14. Northern State: All City (Columbia).
15. The Libertines: The Libertines (Rough Trade).
16. Arto Lindsay: Salt (Righteous Babe).
17. The Mekons: Punk Rock (Quarterstick).
18. Sonic Youth: Sonic Nurse (DGC).
19. Caetano Velosa: A Foreign Sound (Nonesuch).
20. Courtney Love: America's Sweetheart (Virgin).
21. The Beastie Boys: To the Five Boroughs (Capitol).
22. Joanna Newsom: The Milk-Eyed Mender (Drag City).
23. Eddie Palmieri: Ritmo Caliente (Concord).
24. Hound Dog Taylor: Release the Hound (Alligator).
25. Freedy Johnston: The Way I Were (Bar/None).
26. Drive-By Truckers: The Dirty South (New West).
27. The Ponys: Laced With Romance (In the Red).
28. Kimya Dawson: Hidden Vagenda (K).
29. Jill Scott: Beautifully Human (Hidden Beach).
30. The Rough Guide to the Music of Kenya (World Music Network).

2006-01-15T18:36:00.000-05:00

IT’S INDEPENDENTS DAY!

Three indie albums by three independent bands; who did it all by their lonesome, without the help of big brother to guide them. Let the bloodletting begin.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, 2005). Now let me see if I get this straight. I clap my hands and say, what? Wise ass comments aside, to call this Brooklyn’s answer to the Feelies would be too simple, though the first 20 seconds of “Is This Love” is a dead ringer for the lead in on The Good Earth’s “The High Road.” Actually the number one indie-alternative, MP3 blogger’s choice for statement of the year actually owes its sound to any number of influences from early Talking Heads to Yo La Tengo to Television. In fact singer Alec Ounsworth could pass for Tom Verlaine in my book any day. On “The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth” the “trebly” guitar is pure Marquee Moon. But while I don’t want to rain on their parade of accolades, these guys have a way to go before they equal, if not surpass, any of the aforementioned bands. Still, this is an impressive debut, made all the more impressive by the fact that they did it all on their own without the help of a major distributor. Pitchfork reviewer Brian Howe, whose review helped jumpstart the album’s success, commented, “Damn, maybe this is how it’s supposed to work.” Memo to Brian, it hasn’t worked that way since Buddy Holly left west Texas. A-

Franz Ferdinand: You Could Have It So Much Better (Domino, 2005). “I’m evil and a heathen,” Alex Kapranos defiantly declares in track 5, and you can believe him. Like the Smiths before them, these guys don’t hide their contempt for the straight and narrow. Like Morrissey before him, Kapranos has the voice to articulate that disdain. Check out “This Boy” and compare it to “This Charming Man,” and decide for yourself. So what if it took them two tries to get it off their chest, not to mention right. They’re gay; deal with it. Now if only someone could come up with an explanation for why “Eleanor, Put Your Boots On,” is supposed to be a love song to Eleanor Freidberger of the Fiery Furnaces. Sure it is. A-

Bright Eyes: I’m Wide Awake (Saddle Creek, 2005). Even if you don’t buy into Conor Oberst as the second coming of Dylan, and I don’t, you have to admit he does more with his talent than most prodigies these days. Just ask Ryan Adams. And while he does tend to get a little too morbid for comfort, as “We Are Nowhere, and It’s Now” will attest, give him points for at least being concerned that he’s so morbid. After all, most 20 somethings haven’t lived long enough to get that depressed, not without becoming Jackson Browne, which he definitely isn’t. A-

2006-01-13T22:46:00.000-05:00

AN ACCIDENT AND A DISASTER MAKE FOR TWO REMARKABLE RECORDINGS AND TWO LATE PICKS FOR 2005.

Thelonious Monk Quartet: Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall (Blue Note, 2005). Discovered accidentally in an unmarked box by a Library of Congress engineer and beautifully restored, this 1957 performance of these two legends is what the term classic was intended for. Both men were at their peak that night and it is nothing short of astonishing to note that prior to this recording being unearthed, there were only THREE studio tracks of these two genius’s playing together. Though it’s primarily Monk’s album, Coltrane’s playing portends bigger things to come for him. Like his recordings with Miles Davis, most notably Kind of Blue, he was the perfect accompanist. This is music that demands and rewards repeated listening. A+

Our New Orleans: A Benefit Album for the Gulf Coast (Nonesuch, 2005). Loath though I am to buy into the whole benefit album concept – the last such album of this kind to be worthy of merit was the Sun City tribute, Artists United Against Apartheid – these post Katrina songs converted me in a hurry. From Dr. John’s “World I Never Made” to Irma Thomas’ “Back Water Blues” to Randy Newman’s old classic “Louisiana 1927,” these songs take on new and, in the case of Newman, frighteningly prophetic meaning. Conspicuous by her absence, Lucinda Williams, who grew up in Lake Charles. Otherwise, this is one tribute I dare say all of us wish never had to be made. A

2006-01-13T21:51:00.000-05:00

ALL THE WORLD MUSIC'S A STAGE!

A play on words, perhaps, but 2005 was the finest year for world music in over a decade.

Enjoy. I know I did!

The Rough Guide to the Music of the Sahara (World Music Network, 2005). Did you know that the Sahara by itself is bigger than all of Europe? Neither did I. Encompassing countries like Mauritania, Algeria, Libya and Mali, this compilation pays tribute to the diversity of the region's musical culture. Far from being the typical "sampler" so many lesser albums would've settled for, Andy Morgan insisted on getting it right. While I certainly can't claim any profound understanding of the area's musical heritage, there's no denying the brilliance of the music - a cross between blues and funk, the likes of which haven't hit these shores in quite some time. And then there are the haunting chants, mostly by women, which in this culture is still thought of as risqué. A wonderful album! A+

M.I.A.: Arular (Interscope, 2005). Maya Arul is not just any hip-hop diva. Combining elements of world music with R&B she comes off as sounding like Neneh Cherry gone Soweto, or was that Kingston? My favorite song is “Bucky Done Gun,” where she states her peace: “Can I get control / Do you like me vulnerable / I’m armed and I’m equal / More fun for the people.” Raw, violent, but, strangely, non-malevolent, Arul is acutely aware of her surrounds, but refuses to lower herself to its level. In so doing she overcomes the sadistic nature of the genre’s main appeal to most of its fans and becomes a siren, if you will, for a generation that’s about as disillusioned as any in history. This is about as anti-Kanye as you’ll likely to find. Here’s hoping she doesn’t turn bitter. A

Amadou & Mariam: Dimanche a Bamako (Nonesuch, 2005). Married for 30 years, these blind and remarkably talented artists have been the best-kept secret of West Africa. With a handful of Afro-rock albums, issued on small, independent labels to their credit, call this their coming out party. Their music is one part African, one part Latin, one part reggae, with a touch of American R&B and English blues-rock thrown in for good measure, the latter no doubt a by-product of listening to BBC broadcasts in their homeland. Strangely seductive, the texture of the rhythms pulls you in like few albums can. Produced by Manu Chao, himself a well-known member of the Parisian alternative music scene, this is about as global a record as you’ll likely find these days. A

Cheb I Sabbah: La Kahena (Six Degrees, 2005). Algerian by birth, and now San Francisco-based DJ, Sabbah and Bill Laswell, content here to merely play bass, undertake a project of love. In this post-9/11 world, albums that celebrate Islamic traditions are rare in deed. Even more rare, all the singers are female, including Michal Cohen, a Jewish singer of Yemenite descent, who’s song “Im Ninalou” is based on a poem by Shalom Shabazi, a 16^th century Yemenite Jewish mystic. But the real triumph here lies in how Sabbah mixes Sufi, Jewish, Berber and Muslim values into one remarkable record that is as ancient as it is contemporary. A-

Daby Balde: Introducing Daby Balde (World Music Network, 2005). Hailing from Senegal, Balde has a long and celebrated history at home, and thanks to World Music Network will hopefully establish himself abroad. Classically trained and combining West African grooves with a European/Spannish pop flavor, his rich and beautiful melodies will seduce you like few singers can. A genuine find. A-

2006-01-05T15:25:00.000-05:00

2005 list Revised.

As stated previously, changes with any critic are inevitable. However, I believe this is finally it.
P.S.: the deletions of Danger Doom and Franz Ferdinand do not represent a change in status; both remain A- albums. It's just that I wanted to keep the number at a respectable 30 to make things simple.

1. Gogol Bordello: Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike (Side One Dummy).
2. The Rough Guide to the Music of the Sahara (World Music Network).
3. Thelonious Monk Quartet: Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall (Blue Note).
4. Our New Orleans: A Benefit Album for the Gulf Coast (Nonesuch).
5. The Go-Betweens: Oceans Apart (Yep Roc).
6. M.I.A.: Arular (Interscope).
7. Kanye West: Late Registration (Roc-A-Fella).
8. Sufjan Stevens: Illinois (Asthmatic Kitty).
9. The New Pornographers: Twin Cinema (Matador).
10. Ani DiFranco: Knuckle Down (Righteous Babe).
11. The Hold Steady: Separation Sunday (Frenchkiss)
12. The White Stripes: Get Behind Me, Satan (V2)
13. Amadou & Miriam: Dimanche a Bamako (Nonesuch).
14. Sleater-Kinney: The Woods (Sub Pop).
15. The Chemical Brothers: Push the Button (Astralwerks).
16. 50 Cent: The Massacre (Shady/Aftermath/Interscope).
17. Clem Snide: End of Love (Spin Art).
18. Lizz Wright: Dreaming Wide Awake (Verve).
19. Bright Eyes: I'm Wide Awake (Saddle Creek).
20. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah).
21. Spoon: Gimmie Fiction (Merge).
22. Amy Rigby: Little Fugitive (Signature Sounds).
23. Cheb I Sabbah: La Kahena (Six Degrees).
24. The Ponys: Celebration Castle (In the Red).
25. Missy Elliott: The Cookbook (Atlantic/Goldmind).
26. Stevie Wonder: A Time To Love (Motown).
27. Bruce Springsteen: Devils and Dust (Columbia).
28. Loudon Wainwright III: Here Come the Choppers (Sovereign Arts).
29. Daby Balde: Introducing Daby Balde (World Music Network).
30. Neil Young: Prairie Wind (Reprise).

2006-01-02T16:40:00.000-05:00

I know what you're saying. Peter, how can you have a top albums list when you haven't reviewed all of them in print? Hold your horses. All good reviews come to those who wait. I promise all 30 will be out by EOM.

Kanye West: Late Registration (Roc-A-Fella, 2005). While no one reasonably expected a repeat of last year's brilliance, with even some predicting a sophomore jinx, there's no denying his greatness on effort two. Call this his Sticky Fingers to last year's Exile on Main Street. Where with the former one had to play through several times to immerse one's self in the underlying rage and his conceptualizing lyrics, here, simplicity rules the day. He's going straight for the hook and the mob. I particularly like the song where he pays tribute to his mom; nice to know he has some of his priorities straight. And then there's "Gold Digger," one of the top songs of the year. Unlike College Dropout, this is a record everyone will want to buy and play. It might even get airplay, too. After all, complexity may be good for the soul, but it don't pay the rent, or for the bitches out on the street. A

Sleater-Kinney: The Woods (Sub Pop, 2005). A Sleater-Kinney rock album? What is the world coming to? Actually, after a three-year absence they come up with an album so unexpectedly straight forward, Kurt Cobain would've been proud to rock with them. The credit goes to producer David Fridmann for convincing them to tinker with success. Tight, yet still retaining their signature raucousness, the results speak for themselves. Imagine what Zeppelin IV and Never Mind the Bollocks would sound like if they were to merge. Now just sit back and watch your ears bleed. A

Neil Young: Prairie Wind (Reprise, 2005). Coming on the heals of Greendale, just about anything would've sounded good. But give the man some credit. He not only manages to come up with his third incarnation of Harvest (Comes A Time and Harvest Moon make up the other two), he manages not to allow his politics - always left-leaning, but never more so than lately - to decimate the music; something that kept getting in his way on Greendale. While I prefer the beauty of Comes A Time, still among my favorites, there's no denying this is his best album in over a decade. In fact, not since '94s Sleeps With Angels has he recorded with such passion. Check out "When God Made Me," a blast at the religious right that's as good as it gets. Maybe Bush should look into possibly running for a third term? A-

Spoon: Gimmie Fiction (Merge, 2005). While I admit this is not the breakthrough masterpiece Kill the Moonlight was, it's hardly chopped liver, either. Truth is, it would've been a mistake for them to think they could've duplicated it. Here they trade the punk rock aesthetic for more conventional rock and roll grooves. They also do a pretty damn good job at borrowing (stealing?) from their contemporaries. From the opening track The Beast and Dragon, Adored, pure John Lennon from his Beatle days; to I Turn My Camera On, a Prince-like song if ever there was one; to Sister Jack, a flashback to the Who's Happy Jack, this is an album that's hard to resist. To those who might be disappointed it's not as pioneering as it's predecessor, get over yourselves. A-

Sufjan Stevens: Illinois (Asthmatic Kitty, 2005). Christians! All of a sudden the world is full of Christians. May be it's a sign of the times, or the inevitability of it all; after all T-Bone Burnette recorded his best music during the Reagan years! But before you paint Stevens as another profit bent on twisting your ear, know this: this is one believer who doesn't require his audience to follow him in order to consider himself successful. In deed, this album's inspiration lies in what it leaves out. It's inviting, never preachy. In "John Wayne Gacy, Jr.", Stevens' real talent - namely his empathy and compassion - emerges. Any one who can muster up sympathy for a serial killer and convince his listeners to join him, gets high marks from me. Then there's "Casimir Pulaski Day," a song about the death of his girlfriend from bone cancer that ends up becoming a test of his faith. Beautiful and poignant. And check out the title of track two: "The Black Hawk War, or, How To Demolish an Entire Civilization and Still Feel Good About Yourself in the Morning, or, We Apologize for the Inconvenience but You're Going To Have To Leave Now, or, I Have Fought the Big Knives and Will Continue To Fight. . ." Any man this anal is a man after my own heart. A

2006-01-01T20:06:00.000-05:00

A BLAST FROM MY PAST:

The following are some reviews I'd written and published on Amazon a while back.

Paul Simon: Graceland (Warner Bros., 1986). I've gone both ways with Simon. Too often his efforts are at best sophomoric (see Hearts and Bones) and unworthy of his talent. Then there are times when his reach equals his grasp - Paul Simon. This is hardly the world music album his fans think it is, but it does, nonetheless, appropriate superbly those things world music albums are supposed to have, namely a great R&B band. He is what he is, a profound pop artist, who knows a thing or two about making hits, as You Can Call Me Al, will surely attest. Not even Sun City scab Linda Ronstadt can dampen the moment. A

Bruce Springsteen: Born to Run (Columbia, 1975). Springsteen is that rarest of characters. He's scared but hopeful, indignant but steadfast. How else to explain contradictions like "maybe we ain't that young anymore" with "we gotta get out while we're young" or "you ain't a beauty but hey you're alright." He can't reconcile these contradictions, but in the grand tradition of rock-n-roll that doesn't stop him from trying. And it is the trying that we see the angst of his soul. From the title track to Jungle Land the album reeks of a confused man in search of answers, who can't stand still long enough to find them. Like most rebels with a cause, his mission is righteous. Here's hoping when he solves the riddles he still has something significant to say. A

Aerosmith: Rocks (Columbia, 1976). In a genre that now boasts as its mainstays the likes of Boston, Styx, and Blue Oyster Cult, and with the Stones apparently taking some time off for bad behavior, this psuedo gem leaps off the page and begs attention. Where Toys in the Attic made use of the every predictable rock riff possible, this album is tighter, more sparse, more rock-n-roll. Listen to Back in the Saddle and compare it to, say Sweet Emotion and decide for yourself. While the fact that they are now the defacto premier American rock band of the '70s is more an indictment of the industry in general than a recommendation of talent, disqualifying them would be equally unjust. I say sit back and enjoy the show. A-

Elvis Costello: Blood and Chocolate (Columbia, 1986). Never one to shy away from his emotions - particularly those devoted to anger - Elvis the C. comes up with what is easily his most raucous and consistent effort since This Year's Model. His flirtation with ballads and blues on King of America - a poor man's Trust - notwithstanding, and with three failed attempts before that staring back at him from the abyss, he finally decides to do what all great artists do: he wings it. Credit Nick Lowe who channels Costello's rage into a controlled implosion. Tokyo Storm Warning and Uncomplicated are the best six-plus minute songs since Hey Jude hit the charts. And if I Hope You're Happy Now still reminds you of the sniveling runt he's always sounded like, then at least on I Want You, he finally gets up the nerve to give his girl a piece of his mind. Maybe he is Woody Allen after all. A

2005-12-30T21:23:00.000-05:00

THE A's HAVE IT!

Here it is, my first annual best of list. Every one of these collections of ditties gets at least an A-, and, naturally of course, every one should be considered essential for your CD collection. As befits a critic, though, I reserve the right to change my mind and add or delete to said list as I wish. For now, we'll leave it at this.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

1. Gogol Bordello: Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike (Side One Dummy).
2. The Rough Guide to the Sahara (World Music Network).
3. Sufjan Stevens: Illinois (Asthmatic Kitty).
4. The New Pornographers: Twin Cinema (Matador).
5. The Go-Betweens: Oceans Apart (Yep Roc).
6. M.I.A.: Arular (Interscope).
7. Kanye West: Late Registration (Roc-A-Fella).
8. Ani DiFranco: Knuckle Down (Righteous Babe).
9. The Hold Steady: Separation Sunday (Frenchkiss)
10. The White Stripes: Get Behind Me, Satan (V2)
11. Amadou & Miriam: Dimanche a Bamako (Nonesuch).
12. Sleater-Kinney: The Woods (Sub Pop).
13. The Chemical Brothers: Push the Button (Astralwerks).
14. 50 Cent: The Massacre (Shady/Aftermath/Interscope).
15. Clem Snide: End of Love (Spin Art).
16. Lizz Wright: Dreaming Wide Awake (Verve).
17. Bright Eyes: I'm Wide Awake (Saddle Creek).
18. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah).
19. Spoon: Gimmie Fiction (Merge).
20. Amy Rigby: Little Fugitive (Signature Sounds).
21. Cheb I Sabbah: La Kahena (Six Degrees).
22. The Ponys: Celebration Castle (In the Red).
23. Missy Elliott: The Cookbook (Atlantic/Goldmind).
24. Stevie Wonder: A Time To Love (Motown).
25. Bruce Springsteen: Devils and Dust (Columbia).
26. Loudon Wainwright III: Here Come the Choppers (Sovereign Arts).
27. Franz Ferdinand: You Could Have It So Much Better (Domino).
28. Daby Balde: Introducing Daby Balde (World Music Network).
29. Danger Doom: The Mouse and the Mask (Epitaph).
30. Neil Young: Prairie Wind (Reprise).

2005-12-26T18:10:00.001-05:00

It's The End of The World As We Know It, and I Feel Fine!

Four entries: one from a born again Christian, one from a Jew for Jesus, a third from a gangsta who's probably going to meet the big guy in the sky any day now, and the last from a group ready to "push the button." And surprise, all four will make 2005's list for best albums of the year.

Saints Preserve Us!

The Hold Steady: Separation Sunday (Frenchkiss, 2005). Speaking strictly as an ex-Catholic, Craig Finn is a born again after my own heart. He knows the depths of sin better than any Sunday school teacher, and he knows more about compassion and mercy than all the TV evangelists put together. Far from being holier than thou, Finn’s characters – the self-mutilators, abused lovers, and deluded youth - are just like you and me; they’ve been through the mud enough times to know it ain’t easy in this world. Temptation tugs on us all, and falling is as easy as getting out of bed in the morning. But redemption awaits all who seek it, and damned if Finn isn’t going to shout it out to the world. My favorite song is Cattle and the Creeping Things, where Finn offers up his own explanation of original sin: “the dude blamed the chick, the chick blamed the snake” and of course they were both naked when they got busted. A

Clem Slide: End of Love (Spin Art, 2005). “No one will survive the end of love,” Eaf Barzalay announces on the opening track. And things only get better from there. On Jews for Jesus Blues he laments, “Now that I’m found, I miss being lost.” An Israeli in Nashville is about as fish out of water as you’re likely to get. But Barzalay overcomes his deficiency, as it were. Like most people, he’s worried about the world we live in; unlike most people he’s preoccupied with how God feels about how we’ve treated this world we live in. The old testament in him torments his soul as the track God Answers Back shows, a song in which the Almighty quips, "If you get everything you hope for/Then I will have to punish you." Here’s hoping he finds comfort in the new testament. A-

50 Cent: The Massacre (Shady/Aftermath/Interscope, 2005). The no good, the ugly and the bad, that’s what this is. Following on the heals of fellow gangstas Biggie Smalls and Tupac, this is about as low as low gets. The usual formula gets played out, too: the degradation of woman and, oh yes, guns, guns, guns. But, try as he does to drive all but hardcore devotees away, his style is irresistible. On this, his latest and best effort, he finds his funny bone. The result is an album that gets more to the point than Get Rich or Die Tryin’; in other words it’s more about sex and killing, and less about conditions in the ‘hood. All you need to know about his mind-set is to listen to the line from In My Hood. “You can be a victim or you can lock and load.” Guess which one 50 is? A-

The Chemical Brothers: Push the Button (Astralwerks, 2005). Like the Pet Shop Boys before them Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons get a lot of mileage out of a genre that was supposedly dead years ago. From start to finish this latest entry (their sixth) is a tour de force. Forget the detractors who still don't get it. Innovation isn't limited to merely those who forge new paths in the wilderness of music; sometimes the real test is how fresh you can sound driving down the same road (see Sleater-Kinney). Q-Tip sets the tone early with Galvanize; from there the party never seems to end. Overall, their best effort. A

2005-12-22T22:01:00.000-05:00

R.I.P.:

I recently saw the Johnny Cash movie Walk The Line and started thinking not only about Cash, but Ray Charles and Warren Zevon. The parallels between the three are quite striking. All three had serious dependence issues with at least one drug; all three damn near killed themselves as a result before they finally sobered up; and all three came up with career defining albums just before they died.

They are reviewed here in order of when they were released only, but really all three are quite indespensable.

Johnny Cash: American IV: The Man Comes Around (American, 2002). If ever there was a major artist so poorly served by his record company - and who equally served it poorly back - it was Cash. Only The Sun Years on Rhino and the Folsom Prison/San Quentin live albums do him proper justice. Call this redemption, if you will. The man knows his time his short and credit Rick Rubin for realizing what he had to work with and making the most of it. And while the title track sums up, if you will, his faith, a faith that was road tested long ago, the track that seals it for me is Hurt, a song so painful and gut wrenching it might just as well have been extracted from his liver. Note the lyrics: "What Have I become, my sweetest friend / Everyone I know goes away in the end." His anguish is as genuine as his redemption. For a man who couldn't kill his demons fast enough with pills, and who in the end had only his memories to taunt him, this is about as fitting an album as he could've expected. A

Warren Zevon: The Wind (Artimis, 2003). That our hero knew he was dying is not really germane to our story. In fact, Zevon seemed to relish the idea of exiting stage left. How else to describe his decision to forgo chemo? In the end he challenged death the same way he challenged life, by running right at it at full speed. Songs like Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door and Keep Me In Your Heart seem more satirical than autobiographical now that he’s gone. While the cynic in me is suspicious of this effort, the fan in me treasures it and can’t help but reflect on a career that ended a bit too short; but knowing how hard he lived probably lasted a bit longer than it should have. Original grade A-. A

Ray Charles: Genius Loves Company (Concord/Hear Music, 2004). Forget the fact that most of these "guests" couldn't play their way out of a paper bag, this is about as genuine a love statement as a major artist has had in quite some time. Co-producers John Burk and Phil Ramone manage to bring out Charles' indelible spirit and love for the material, while at the same time not allowing said material to overwhelm his sometimes frail voice. No small feat. And, as for the material, like his career, it spans the gamut of pop music. No other artist could've pulled this off so masterfully. Not even Michael McDonald can ruin things here. A

2005-12-02T21:07:00.000-05:00

2005 albums, continued

The New Pornographers: Twin Cinema (Matador, 2005). Here’s where all the supergroup comparisons come home to roost. Like Led Zeppelin before them they lay claim to their rightful place as the preeminent rock band of this century. But where the former used blues as their main drive engine, A.C. Newman and company rely on ‘60s power pop formula. Call them the Shins, but with extra octane, the album is relentless in its energy from start to finish. And everyone gets to play this time, which is nice. Neko Case is joined by newcomer Nora O’Connor on vocals. Even Newman’s niece gets to play the keybs. Staying power will be their biggest test; after all we all know what happened to Zeppelin after IV, and this is their third album. A

Ani DiFranco: Knuckle Down (Righteous Babe, 2005). Maturity has not dulled her gifting. With 15 years and 17 albums behind her, the not pretty enough little girl who lashed out brilliantly at the world for all her troubles has grown into a fairly even-tempered young woman. She still has a chip on her shoulder, and good for her. But, unlike her earlier efforts, here she focuses her anger and her pen too. The result is as well rounded an album as she as ever recorded. Lyrics like “But a lesson must be lived / in order to be learned / and the clarity to see and stop this now / that is what I’ve earned,” reveal an artist wise beyond her 34 years of life, and far more accomplished than most women ten years her senior. A

The White Stripes: Get Behind Me Satan (V2, 2005). Sure My Doorbell signals a desire on the part of Jack White to go pop as it were. So what? Since when has commercial success been a crime? Not even Meg's rather average drum playing can hide the fact that despite all the hoopla over their supposed ground-breaking, indie cult following, what they really are is a pretty damn good rock and roll band. And Jack, for all his rather predictable emoting (do I hear a trace of Robert Plant?) is following in a grand tradition of rock stars that went before him. Did I also forget to mention he writes good lyrics? A

Loudon Wainwright III: Here Come the Choppers (Sovereign Arts, 2005). Never one to mince words or cover up the fact that he’s been a pretty deplorable father (Hello Martha, Hello Rufus), Loudon this time goes macro. His angst over Bush is genuine as is his mourning over 9/11 (No Sure Way). If he sounds less, well, funnier than usual, maybe it’s because at this stage of his life the jokes don’t come as frequently as they used to. Or maybe it’s because he’s stopped running long enough to know that humor was always his number one narcotic. A-

2005-11-23T21:52:00.000-05:00

TURKEY SHOOT, continued.

JUST A FEW OF THE CLASSICS FOR YOUR THANKSGIVING ENJOYMENT! EAT UP!

Dar Williams: End of the Summer (Razor and Tie, 1997). The worst case of oversignificance to hit an artist since Suzanne Vega, Williams could turn a sunny day into midnight just by opening her mouth. The darling of the FUV jetset crowd, calling her pretentious would do a disservice to pretentiousness. And this is her best effort! C.

John Fogerty: Centerfield (Warner Brothers, 1985). With each passing year my contempt for this half-hearted, half-assed effort grows. Sure, it's competently played, and therein lies the problem. Fogerty could always out play his contemporaries. The trick is to bring something unique to the table. If we are to believe that Rock-n-roll Girls is the next Lookin' Out My Backdoor then we'd be believing in a lie. Truth is this was lame then and it's lamer now. B-.

Norah Jones: Feels Like Home (Blue Note, 2004). "What's not to like?" Robert Christgau once queried rhetorically. Plenty. Oh, I'm sure she's genuine when she emotes, and she comes from good stock, don't you know. If her Grammy sweeping Come Away With Me didn't convince you then perhaps nothing will. Sophisticated, easy to digest, harmless, but with just enough - shall we say - pizzazz to keep the multitudes in step. And you know she isn't some tramp or hip-hop chick, don't you know. No Eminem or Missy Elliott, here. Just the sweet girl next door who happens to play her own instrument; even writes a few of her own songs. Yes, talented she is, but with every note she exemplifies what's wrong with the biz. Jones is that perfect product ideally suited for that adult-contemporary crowd you thought didn't matter. Remember Roberta Flack in the '70s? Even if you like her personally, and by all accounts she is very likable, this is the ultimate sell job, by an industry adept at creating gods. Beware strange men bearing gifts too good to be true. B-.

Ben Folds Five: Whatever and Ever Amen (550 Music, 1997). Boy does this guy need a life. I've haven't heard such a pity pot since Billy Joel. Never trust a piano man who can't get laid. C+

Beth Orton: Trailer Park (Heavenly, 1997). I confess I find myself enjoying She Cries Your Name in my more morbid moments, but aside from that this is just one more example of a folkie way too in love with her misery. B-

Steve Winwood: Chronicles (Island, 1987). Like Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront, Steve "coulda been a contenda." Instead this overwrought and overbearing hack gets the award for doing less with more talent than any other artist in the last twenty years. Even Clapton had Layla. Banal, when it isn't nauseating. C

Sarah McLachlan: Afterglow (Arista, 2003). McLachlan is one of the guilty pleasures I allow myself. Her voice, seductive even when it's soulless, draws you into her world. With 1993's Fumbling Towards Ecstasy (still her finest effort) and the Lilith Fair concerts in the late '90s in her resume, she's hard to resist. But for all the seduction and pseudo mature themes her lyrics portend, this is one woman who still can't escape her insipid melancholy. She's as predictable as a broken country record without the twang. Actually, this is New-Age music without the mysticism. C-

The Mavericks: Trampoline (MCA Nashville, 1998). Country music with horns? Who cares. No matter how authentic their ethnicity might seem these guys are pure El Lay. Another Nashville express out to the masses. If you're looking for some good country music with a latin flavor, try Rank and File for starters. These guys couldn't tune their guitars. C+

Indigo Girls: Indigo Girls (Epic, 1989). Closer To Fine headlines this tripe and nonsensical effort. Tracy Chapman is Dylan next to these two wonderkinds. This is the worst kind of folk: deep but with no meaning. How else to explain lyrics like "In the ink of an eye I saw you bleed." They are intense, they are in need, they are in pain, and, of course, they're in love. Oh, come on, get over yourselves, girls. Your demons are in your music. C-

2005-11-03T07:50:00.000-05:00

RAP IT UP!

I've been remiss in my picks for top rap/hip-hop albums. So as not to suggest unwarranted bias, here are some of the better efforts out there.

Kanye West: The College Dropout (Roc-A-Fella, 2004). Like Ice-T before him he has no fear of breaking taboos and telling the world where to stick it. But whereas the former turned to unenlightened sociologist/philosopher, and saw a duty to rat out even his own kind, West really does see himself as the savior of hip-hop. His arrogance is not in a critique of what ails the world, but in how he can exploit it for his own good. But, like Mick Jaggar, his ego doesn't detract from his talent; it only enhances it. This is the best damn album in a genre that has seen more violence and insanity than any since rock music got started five decades ago. Yes, I know it's dangerous; quite frankly what he advocates will somehow come back to haunt him in his later years, assuming he lives that long. But deny him, you can't. A+

The Fugees: The Score (Ruffhouse/Columbia, 1996). Alternative rap is a sub-genre you don't hear much about, and for good reason. These guys just invented it. They balance gangsta rap with a world-vision humanitarianism. This is poetry with an attitude. Killing Me Softly and No Woman, No Cry aren't just covers, they're reinventions the likes of which the original artists would have been proud of, and in the case of the former, impossible for Flack to even create. In a genre that sings praises to the dopest of the flyist and more often than not ignores underlying root causes of the plight that besets its own artists, their triumph is considerable. That they managed to pull it off is a credit to their vision and courage. A

P.M. Dawn: The Bliss Album . . . ? (Gee Street, 1993). Is this rap light or light rap? Following up on the heals of their very fine Of the Heart, Of the Soul, and of the Cross, this album takes their caramel flavored rhythms and soul-searching lyrics to the next level. Its simplicity and, yes, sincerity, hook you in like no other music of its kind. Prince Be is one part Lionel Richie, one part Otis Redding, one part Brian Wilson. In other words he croons, but with soul and pop smarts. I'd Die Without You is a classic that lesser men would fall flat on their pretensions trying to copy. Dismiss them and you'll regret it. They're good for you. A

Ice-T: O.G. Original Gangster (Sire/Warner Bros., 1991). Gangster my ass. This guy's about as dangerous as the weather man telling you there's a hurricane coming. His humor - and by humor I mean sick humor - is matched only by his ability to play it hard and mean. He knows where he comes from, and his dislike for the hypocrites who preach the golden rule is genuine. When he scoffs "Imagine that, me working at Mickey Dee's," he's reading the riot act to any and all who still don't get it that down by his neck of the woods a "nigga" can make more in an hour selling than working all week at a straight job. And for those who would just like him to go away, his self prophetic line from the song New Jack Hustler is haunting: "They'll be another one after me." A

Notorious B.I.G.: Life After Death (Bad Boy, 1997). In the end he got what was coming to him. Songs like Somebody's Gotta Die and You're Nobody ('Til Somebody Kills You) proved to be more than just portending doom becoming reality; for him it was a way of life that he could never escape. But there was so much more to Biggie Smalls than mere death. For in his brief life the hope this ex-dope dealer had, first for his kids, then perhaps for us all, survived him. He was, if nothing else, warm and funny. He could laugh at himself, too, something most of his contemporaries could learn a thing or two about. He could've been a legend, instead of a footnote. The shame is we'll never know. A

Digable Planets: Rachin' (A New Refutation of Time and Space) (Pendulum, 1993). Eschewing the hardness of hip-hop for the lighter side, this reads like P.M. Dawn with a social conscious. They like their sex, but are respectful of their partner's needs. These rappers turned bohemians dig the spiritual realm like nobody else. And the music, it borrows as much from jazz as it does from R&B. Sort of Charles Mingus meets Curtis Mayfield. They are to hip-hop what The Buffalo Springfield was to rock. A

2005-10-18T21:02:00.000-04:00

CURRENT ENTRIES

Some of the latest crop of albums I've had the pleasure of playing.

Gogol Bordello: Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strikes (Side One Dummy, 2005). Eugene Hutz is a punk in the mold of Bob Mould. Unlike Mould, though, Hutz at least has a sense of humor. Backed by Yuri Lemeshev on accordian and Sergey Ryabtzev on violin, these former Eastern European refugees (Hutz is actually a DJ at a Bulgarian bar in New York) have been the best thing to hit my CD player in months. This wild and eclectic mix is one part gypsy dance music and one part punk - hence the title! But while its style may owe itself to those categories, such as they are, there's so much more to these guys. Ultimately they defy categorization. If you've never heard anything like them before, it's because you haven't. Sort of a Lawrence Welk meets Sid Vicious variety show. Now categorize that! A+

The Go-Betweens: Oceans Apart (Yep Roc, 2005). Calling Robert Forster and Grant McLennan mature singer-songwriters is redundant. They've been maturing for over twenty years. Let's just call this they're most complete and assured album ever. The tandem has grown so much since Tallulah and 16 Lovers Lane it's almost unfair to call them the same band. Every song here has its own unique story to tell. And the songs grow on you with each listen. "To know yourself is to be yourself / keeps you walking through these tears," is about as "mature" a lyric as you'll likely find. Charming, yet elusive, they're just troubadours on the road to musical nirvana. What else can they do but follow they're calling? A

John Prine: Fair and Square (Oh Boy, 2005). Some Humans Ain't Human isn't just about the President (yes, John, we know he's an idiot!), it's about a lot of people out there just like you and me. But while many of these songs endear themselves to your heart, including My Darlin' Hometown, and She Is My Everything, the latter proof that there are still guys out there that can write good love songs, the simple fact is he's done better than this. Where is the Lake Marie or Sam Stone? Truth is, a lot of this material seems borrowed from past efforts, which doesn't make this album bad, just not as rewarding as it could've been. B+

Bruce Springsteen: Devils and Dust (Columbia, 2005). If ever there was a case of a major artist in need of a major breakthrough it was our underclass hero. The guy you always rooted for and wondered what happened to finally releases an album worthy of his rep. Not since Tunnel of Love has he enjoyed such heights. Where The Rising saw him mired in his subject, here the songs come to him and the result is a man who's finally comfortable is his own skin again. He's got something to say and a voice to say it. A-

Amy Rigby: Little Fugitive (Signature Sounds, 2005). Nine years, a failed marriage and a new husband haven't dampened her spirits one bit. In fact, she's just as cynical as ever, even when there's nothing to be cynical about - The Trouble With Jeanie. She's still that mod housewife, desperately trying to hold onto a youth that long ago would've alluded lesser and, yes, younger women. Like Rasputin might as well be her theme song. Just when you think she's done, she gets back up off the mat. She's not so much worried about looking old as acting old. Here's hoping she never grows up. A-

2005-10-17T09:42:00.000-04:00

COUNTRY COMFORT

Alt-country, that is country that has some blues and or rock-n-roll in it, has always captured my fancy. In light of what passes for country music these days, I thought I'd come up with a list of some of my favorite albums, again in no particular order.

Lucinda Williams: Sweet Old World (Chameleon, 1992). In spite of her pleas to the contrary this is in deed a dark album, full of regrets, violent death and fear of insecurity. But locked within all of those troublesome moments she finds the hope to go on. On Memphis Pearl mom promises her little baby it won't always be like this, even when deep down she knows it will; on He Never Got Enough Love Williams knows what the absence of a loving mother and the presence of an abusive father will do to any child; and on the title track, even in the face of a suicide we can only surmise is someone close to her, she still has the composure to know what was truly lost: "the breath from your own lips, a sweet and tender kiss, the sound of a midnight train, wearing someone's ring, dancing with no shoes, the beat, the rhythm, the blues." Williams gift is that she take us to the edge of despair and bring us back safely. She knows that despite its imperfections this truly is a sweet old world. The fact that we can't always see that is our regret; the fact that she can is her virtue. A

Joe Ely: Honky Tonk Masquerade (MCA, 1978). Like most Texas artists, Ely is pigeonholed. He's too country for rock and too rock for country. With fellow ex-Flatlander Butch Hancock doing the co-writing this is the finest country-rock album since Gilded Palace of Sin. Really, any one interested in what gets played deep in the heart of Texas, would do well to check out not only this entry but his self-titled debut. Ely's music is more Memphis than Nashville, and the result is an album that's more hard-edged and direct than the usual melodic twang that passes for country. With the exception of Willie Nelson no one even comes close. A.

Gram Parsons: Grievous Angel (Reprise, 1974). In which the inventor of alternative country brings it all home, as they say. On GP Parsons' love for country music dulled the delivery. Here, all the walls come down. With Emmylou Harris backing up on vocal, he allows himself the freedom to develop his soulful rock. On Return of the Grievous Angel and Hearts on Fire Parsons and Harris outdo the Parsons/Hillman duo of Christine's Tune and Sin City - no small feat. And if In My Hour of Darkness isn't self prophetic than Love Hurts underscores his worst fears and insecurities. A pity he never lived long enough to appreciate the gift he gave the world; a shame the world still doesn't get it! A

Rosie Flores: After the Farm (Hightone, 1992). Of all the alt-country singers out there, Flores is the closest to pure country there is. Pure country like Loretta Lynne and Merle Haggard, though, which is a comfort here. But Flores borrows as much from Dwight Yoakam and Steve Earle, as any of the aforementioned greats. And like her 1987 self-titled debut her husky voice is just what the country doctor ordered. Blue Highway is the best damn non-hit song to come out in decades, while West Texas Plains is pure Nashville, replete with drinking and relationship breakups, everything but the dog dying. Perhaps album three? A-

The Jayhawks: Blue Earth (Twin/Tone, 1989). Calling Mark Olsen and Gary Louris a poor man's Gram Parsons and Chris Hillman is moot at best. Truth is this is best Flying Burritos album since Burrito Deluxe; in fact I'll take this over the former any day for sheer delivery. Since Olsen isn't quite the writer Parsons was, his aim is lower, which is OK by me. This album flows and rocks in a way Hillman used to fight Parsons over way back when. And I prefer Olsen's Baltimore Sun to Parsons' Streets of Baltimore anyway. Not a great album, just a damn good one. A-

John Prine: Sweet Revenge (Atlantic, 1973). Three of the first four songs on this wonderful album are some sort of joke Prine appears to be playing on himself, with Dear Abby the punch line. The odd man out is Christmas in Prison, this year's Sam Stone, about the tortured soul of a prisoner who has all eternity to morn the loss of the woman he loves. "We're rolling, my sweetheart, we're flowing, by God," is about as bleak and gut wrenching as rock-n-roll has ever gotten. And that's Prine's gift, or curse if you will. He is able to empathize with those the rest of us would rather not associate with. In so doing he becomes both the convict and the poor schmuck who gets caught with his girl friend's pants down to her knees all at the same time. Life doesn't get much more surreal than that. A

2005-10-14T16:02:00.000-04:00

THE GREATEST OF THE GREATEST

Throughout the last forty years or so a number of fine albums have been released that are excellent best ofs. While some of these artists/bands have been prolific album producers in their own right, others have been merely content to be singles artists. We won't distinguish here; in fact our hats go off to all of these albums and the artists/bands that produced them.

From earliest to most recent:

Sly & The Family Stone: Greatest Hits (Epic, 1970). From the sublime Dance to the Music to the politically-charged Stand this band had the greatest run of hits over a 24-month period than any band since the Beatles. The rhythms are contagious, as are the lyrics. But what made all of this possible was Sly Stone's vision and commitment to the music. The first truly integrated rock band to front a number one hit in the country, that alone would be history enough. But more than thirty years later they still sound fresh and relevant, well, now, that's just awesome. A+

Al Green: Greatest Hits (Hi, 1975). With the exception of Stevie Wonder and Aretha Franklin, no other African American artist has been able to successfully produce both hit singles and worthwhile albums. Call Me in '73 was one of the decade's best LPs. And while any one serious about getting into him would do well to start there, there is no resisting this collection. It shows Green on top of his game. The man didn't simply rule the R&B airwaves, he destroyed them. And he didn't do too shoddy on top-40 either. He had the soul of Otis Redding, but the savvy of, say, James Brown. That is to say he knew how to take his music out to the masses. And the masses drank up ever last drop. A+

Dolly Parton: The Best of Dolly Parton (RCA Victor,1975). The second Best of in her RCA catalogue, this one captures her at her finest. Porter Wagoner's production is second to none, but the triumph here is both Parton's writing (she writes all but two of the titles) and her singing, which is nothing sort of angelic. Jolene is about the insecurities of a woman who knows she is losing her man and there is nothing she can do to stop it; Coat of many Colors her story of personal poverty transcended into riches; and When I Sing for Him her testimony of a faith that has carried her throughout the years. Country music has never been this good. A+

Creedence Clearwater Revival: Chronicle (Fantasy, 1976). 15 of the 20 songs here went top ten, with five reaching number one. Like the Beatles before them, they not only ruled the top-40 format, but consistently turned out quality albums: Willy and the Poor Boys and Cosmos Factory to name their two finest. John Fogerty's genius is that he managed all of this over a three and half year period. It took the Fab Four six years to do the same. Pound for pound, the greatest American rock and roll band ever. A

Neil Young: Decade (Reprise, 1978). This triple LP (2 CDs) captures a career that remarkably was still developing. At 32 his catalogue was considerable. And while nothing here would make one want to skip over the original albums - start with After the Gold Rush and Tonight's the Night - it's enough evidence of his greatness to give it its due. And as Robert Christgau correctly points out "I'd rather here Ohio, Soldier, Helpless and Long May You Run in this context than in any other." A

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Gold and Platinum (MCA, 1979). The shame here is that in death they became bigger than life. With all but two of their albums essentials, particularly their last, the temptation here is to call this a sampler. But it's much more than that. Like John Fogerty before him, Ronnie Van Zant knew a thing or two about how to make a tuneful record. And while hits weren't their purpose in life, they were, nonetheless, an important part of their success. And unlike the Allmans, they went somewhere with their southern boogie. A

Donna Summer: On the Radio: Greatest Hits Volumes I & II (Casablanca, 1979). In her own way she was as significant to black music as Aretha Franklin. In-deed, her style borrows more from '60s Motown than, say, Atlantic. Nor can she be merely stereotyped as another disco diva. Maybe that's why out of a genre that included the likes of Gloria Gaynor, Vicki Sue Robinson, and Thelma Houston, Summer's hits have endured the test of time. Check out Bad Girls and compare it to a contemporary song from, say, Toni Braxton or Alicia Keys. A

Bob Marley and the Wailers: Legend (Island, 1984). Anyone who doubted Marley's abilities as a songwriter should know this. With the exception of Stevie Wonder, nobody wrote better, catchier songs in the '70s. From politics to sex to just plain old down home melodies, Marley's range was undeniable. Natty Dread and Burnin' are absolute most owns, but after that this tribute covers all the bases. A

Madonna: The Immaculate Collection (Sire, 1990). Sure, go on, deny that she made a difference. Pretend that she didn't own a decade that was about as diverse, if not more so, than the '60s. Pretend, too, that you weren't listening to that disco mix of Into The Groove or that you weren't watching her videos - especially Papa Don't Preach - and then try and deny that you weren't mesmerized by the woman's sex appeal. Phony, you say? All style and no substance? Give me a break. Sure, she's about as genuine as a two dollar bill. Equally true, take her out of the decade and it collapses in on itself. But that's OK. You can still lie to yourself and say she didn't matter. After all what harm would it do? A+

John Prine: Great Days: The John Prine Anthology (Rhino, 1993). The agony here is that 41 songs and they still haven't nailed it. John Prine, Diamond in the Rough, Sweet Revenge, Common Sense and Storm Windows catalogue a prolific career most songwriters would give their eye teeth to approach. Yet Prine makes it seem so easy. Wise beyond his years and yet never smug about it, his humanity and his humility go hand in hand. Like Dylan, a genius; unlike Dylan, a whole lot friendlier. A

Garth Brooks: The Hits (Liberty, 1994). OK, so he's the Billy Joel of country, so what? Only a cynic would deny him his props. And for sheer enjoyment, I'll take Friends in Low Places over Only the Good Die Young any day. At least Brooks seems like he's enjoying his own show; Joel comes off as way too serious for someone with such limited talent. Though I'd much prefer George Strait or John Anderson on sheer principle alone, there isn't anyone out there with as much charisma as this guy. Yes, he's full of himself. So was Little Richard! A

Marshall Crenshaw: This Is Easy: The Best of Marshall Crenshaw (Rhino, 2000). Between 1982 and 1991 Crenshaw was easily the most honest, talented and underappreciated rock-n-roller of his time. Not since Buddy Holly has the world heard such basic, simple and unrelenting music. That he never got a hit single once - especially out of the first two albums - is one of the great injustices of the business that defies all logic. This act of love by a record company known for it's risk-taking is an attempt to set the record straight and maybe right some wrongs in the process. A

De La Soul: Timeless: The Singles Collection (Tommy Boy/Rhino, 2003). If three incredible and two pretty damn good albums haven't provided enough proof that their rap was, well, timeless, nothing will. So what if the choice "single" cuts sound more fulfilling in their original album versions. That's why it's called a singles collection, right? Solution, buy the albums anyway, especially 3 Feet High and Rising. But, if you're like me, this "collection" will serve to illustrate that they are the best hip hop band this side of the Beasties. A+

2005-10-09T17:33:00.000-04:00

GOT GUM IF YOU WANT IT!

It was early 1967. Don Kirshner, producer of the Monkees, was on his way to a meeting with his band to address concerns they had over the release of the single A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You. The band, led by Michael Nesmith, had long desired artistic control over the content of their songs - in deed Kirshner had allowed Nesmith to co-produce some of his own songs and even allowed Peter Tork to play guitar on a couple more.

Kirshner had been in the business for years and was accustomed to dealing with strife. Besides, he was extremely excited over a new song that he had recently gotten a hold of that he believed would be the best Monkee song ever. And that was saying something given the success of Daydream Believer and I'm a Believer. But when Kirshner arrived for his meeting he soon discovered it was an ambush. The meeting lasted less than an hour, and when it was over, Kirshner was canned.

Undaunted, Kirshner put the song on a shelf until such time as he felt he could release it. That time occured in 1969. Kirshner had been asked to produce an annimated TV series for CBS consisting of the fictional Archie Comics. The cast of characters included Archie Andrews, Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, Reggie Mantle and Jughead Jones. Kirshner needed a song that would be the theme for the group, but he also needed a band to perform it. Remembering what happened with the Monkees, Kirshner decided he would create the band out of session players and keep their identities secret. That way they could not rebel and demand creative control. He hired Ron Dante and Toni Wine to do all the vocals. Dante was lead singer for the Cufflinks who had a single of their own that year called Tracy. Wine, no stranger to the business herself, co-wrote the smash hit A Groovy Kind of Love for the Mindbenders in 1965.

In the spring of 1969 the session musicians and Dante and Wine entered a studio to record the song written by Jeff Barry and Andy Kim and shelved for almost two years by Kirshner. The song took less than a day to record and was released later that year. It went on to become the best selling hit single of the year, spending four weeks at number one.

The song was Sugar, Sugar.

What Kirshner was able to accomplish was nothing short of ground-breaking. He had single-handedly created a fictional band based on a comic strip, hired non-entities to perform a song that was written by somebody else, and with a minimal amount of effort went on to create a blockbuster hit single that took the country by storm. The record industry, never one to deny a success, or pass up an opportunity to make a buck, took notes. Within a year of it's release, Sugar, Sugar was garnering copycats. Other groups like White Plains and Vanity Fare began emerging and scoring top forty hits of their own. Soon an entire genre had been born. Bubble gum, once thought to be the purview of lesser talent, was now in full vogue, and everyone wanted a piece of the action.

Here is a list of some of my favorite bubble gum songs of the '70s along with some relevent comments.

1. Norman Greenbaum: Spirit in the Sky (1970). The only song in the list written by the artist himself, Greenbaum was the only artist to make both God and dying cool at the same time. Try that sometime. Even Billy Graham would give it it's do.
2. Edison Lighthouse: Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) (1970). The lead singer, Tony Burrows, who also sang lead on My Baby Loves Lovin' (see #3) and United We Stand (#10), was the ultimate bubblegum session singer. While Ron Dante holds the mantle as the voice of history, Burrows' contribution is insurmountable. Three top 20 hit singles in three months. Only the Beatles had managed to accomplish that feat.
3. White Plains: My Baby Loves Lovin' (1970). This song used to get me in trouble with mom every time I sang it. Oh, and by the way, I sang it quite often!
4. Alive & Kicking: Tighter, Tighter (1970). Co-produced by Tommy James, this was my favorite summer hit of that year. Whenever it came on the radio I immediately stopped what ever I was doing and turned up the volume, much to my parents chagrin.
5. Mark Lindsay: Arizona (1970). While most prefer 1971's Indian Reservation, this is my pick for his best song of the decade.
6. Steam: Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye (1969). Released late in '69 this rather obscure song wound up going all the way to number one. To this day it gets sung in more arenas and ball parks than even Queen's Another One Bites The Dust.
7. Vanity Fare: Hitchin' a Ride (1970). Unlike most of these artists, this group actually had a hit earlier in the year with Early in the Morning. But this would be their moniker.
8. Daddy Dewdrop: Chick-a-Boom (Don't Ya Jes' Love It) (1971). A song about a guy going after a naked girl. Now that's rock-n-roll.
9. Gallery: Nice To Be With You (1972). There are few songs that hold so much personal joy for me as a kid as this song. I couldn't stop playing it.
10. The Brotherhood of Man: United We Stand (1970). Even as a 9-year old I dug the meaning of this song. Though written as a love song, it could just as well have been about mankind.

Well that's my top 10. Perhaps later I'll put up another ten songs.

Bye, for now.

2005-10-06T16:30:00.000-04:00

Turkey Shoot

I know it's a little early for Thanksgiving, but here are some turkeys fit for the oven.

U2: How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb (Interscope, 2004). Having proven he's the Bob Geldof of the '90s, Bono now sets his sights on another over the top icon - Sting: another entity who hasn't had anything relevant to say in over a decade. I know rock bands can get carried away with themselves, but these guys haven't made any waves since Rattle and Hum and that was a live performance! C+

Neil Young and Crazy Horse: Greendale (Reprise, 2003). I saw Young perform this claptrap at Jones Beach. Dull, long, and insipid are words you usually don't associate with him, until, that is, you have to endure this. C-

Ryan Adams: Gold (Lost Highway, 2001). I was betting that New York, New York was his 9/11 tribute until I learned it was recorded before the event. No matter how many Gram Parsons and Bob Dylan comparisons I keep hearing about this guy, all I keep coming back to is Jackson Browne in the early '70s: boring and full of himself. Play Highway '61 Revisited or Grievous Angel and you tell me. Significance that's mass produced for consumption always spells the same: pretentious. C-

Bruce Springsteen: The Rising (Columbia, 2002). It's hard not to like this guy; his heart is in the right place. And unlike so many of his modern-day contemporaries in their 40s or 50s (Sting, for example) you actually want the guy to succeed. But like so many do-gooders, Springsteen gets lost in his subject. Into the Fire is predictable. The heroes of 9/11 (the cops, the firemen) are suppose to give us faith and hope for a better tomorrow. Truthful? Maybe. Good art? Not really. C

The Mountain Goats: The Sunset Tree (4AD, 2005). After two fairly impressive albums, John Darnielle was due for a let down, but I never suspected a melt down. It's not like he's the first artist to use music as therapy - indeed most great art delves into pain - but Darnielle doesn't go anywhere with it. He's trapped in his pain and no matter how defiant words like "I will make it through this year if it kills me" may sound, you're just not sold. This is one patient who should've sued his therapist. B-

Shelby Lynne: Love, Shelby (Island, 2001). Great looks, great tits and great legs can take you so far, the rest is up to talent. C-

Brian Wilson: Smile (Nonesuch, 2004). This isn't nearly bad enough to merit mention in a turkey shoot, but with all the hoopla surrounding it - not to mention the 37-year wait we've had to endure while Wilson fiddled with it just getting it right - it deserves mention as the single most overdone and under-delivered album of the last few years. None of these songs - most of which have sounded better in earlier renditions - improve with age in spite of Wilson's dickering. His voice, long ago lost into the void, seems overmatched for the material any way. And no matter how many '60s gurus insist that this is the great lost Beach Boys album, I'll pass. B

2005-10-04T21:47:00.000-04:00

DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES

Amy Rigby: Diary of a Mod Housewife (Koch, 1996). Rigby isn't merely some 37 year old retread with an ax to grind over a husband who doesn't appreciate her. She's a brilliantly honest 37 year old retread with an ax to grind over a husband who doesn't appreciate her. She's got balls, too, and the wisdom to use them. When she asks old hubby those 20 Questions, she's already got the answers. But lest you think her ax is tilted only toward her partner, I've got news for you, it's not. Time For Me To Come Down and Sad Tale show at least a capacity for introspection lesser artists would frown upon. And when she's not too busy trying to save her marriage, Knapsack becomes her ticket to a fantasy world where the guy in the bookstore notices her and she notices back. A

Rosanne Cash: Interiors (Columbia, 1990). I've been a fan of Cash ever since 1985's Rhythm and Romance. Here she fires producer-husband Rodney Crowell and flies solo. Even writes all her own material. The result is an album that exceeds the sum of its parts. She's her daddy's girl and like dear old dad she enunciates the pain in her soul like few artists can. On the Surface documents a troubled marriage that within a year would be over, while Dance With The Tiger deals with her own demons. Bittersweet, but still hopeful. A

2005-09-23T19:44:00.000-04:00

EXIT STAGE LEFT

Here are some incredible, yet politically left-leaning, albums of note worthiness.

Husker Du: Flip Your Wig (SST, 1985). Calling Bob Mould angry is like calling the ocean damp. In fact, he's mad as hell. Divide and Conquer might just be the best rock anthem since Won't Get Fooled Again. Together with partner Grant Hart, they write songs that are terse -though not nearly as much as Zen Arcade - and at the same time sonically challenging to the senses. But they've got a softer side. Green Eyes might be the weirdest, sincerest love song of the age. A

Mekons: OOOH! (Quarterstick, 2002). If this isn't the anti 9/11 tribute record then Karl Marx was a Republican. It's also their darkest album since Fear and Whiskey. They also haven't lost any of their country influences, though here that's hardly relevant. They are as obsessed with the treachery of the government and society's old ills as ever. Thee Olde Trip To Jerusalem is another reminder that they ain't buying the SOP that seems to serve the common folk so well. This Way Through the Fire is their warning. They're not hungry, thirsty, weary or alone. They're just aging missionaries looking for a safe shore to land on. Going on 25 years and they still have more to say than any one else still standing. A+

The Housemartins: London 0, Hull 4 (Elektra, 1986). When Paul Heaton says, "Don't shoot someone tomorrow that you can shoot today," he's not just whistlin' Dixie, or Piccadilly Square for that matter. These guys take their Marxist Christianity (or whatever else you care to call it) seriously. From the Queen to fence sitters, they pull no punches and hide no contempt. Call them the Left's version of the Beatles. Power pop for the masses. Original grade A- A.

The Minutemen: 3-Way Tie (for Last) (SST, 1985). Like Lynyrd Skynyrd before them, their best was, well, their last. D. Boon never sounded so good, or so well defined. Yes, they were a little too utopian at times as The Price of Paradise and The Big Stick attest, but theirs was a just world, where might was right, er, left and people everywhere lived together in harmony. You wanted to believe Boon when he said that if war isn't what we were all about then someone would eventually "get the peace train back on its track." Naive, yes, but still words to live by. A