Not all the neural paths fire in such obvious sequence. The first time I saw those sun-blasted palms backdropping the yellow International, I thought immediately of chase scenes in The Rockford Files ... The theme music, ongoing answering machine joke, Jim's put-upon wit, the way he ran like a stove-up ex-jock, I am fond of the whole package. But whenever he is in flight or in pursuit, my eye is drawn past the Pontiac Firebird into the background where California lies apparently lazy and hot beneath a sun whiter than the one we know here in Wisconsin, and beyond the set I see the new highways and the bare hillsides and I think of the subdivisions and teeming engines to come, and I become petulant over the fact that I can't wander in there. Never mind that the series was shot between 1974 and 1980 and we're hardly talking about garden of Hesperides. It's not about the preservation or the loss. It is that I have been cheated of that place in that moment. This is something beyond nostalgia and verging on saudade, a Portuguese word I first encountered in a Jim Harrison essay in which he spoke of obtuse sentimentality, childish melancholy, and a sense of life irretrievably lost.
Van Duren is pure power pop. He spent time in the Memphis trenches with the big boys (Big Star, Chris Bell, The Scruffs), and knows his way around a hook and a melody as well as any of his heroes from Todd Rundgren, Paul McCartney, Emitt Rhodes and on to Badfinger. He went to high school with Jody Stephens, auditioned for Big Star after Bell's departure, and was in the short-lived but legendary Baker Street Regulars with both those cats. If you think Big Star never got the props they deserved, well they're the Beatles compared to Mr. Duren. This is his debut album, originally released in 1977 on the Big Sound label, and he is no also ran, he is the real deal, power pop at its finest.
The Mummies are especially known for their matching, tattered mummy costumes they wore on stage and their impertinent and insulting attitude that they brought with them. They created and promoted the concept of 'Budget Rock', which rejected professionalism and star status in favor of a simplified do-it-yourself aesthetic. As part of this concept they performed and recorded only on outdated and often damaged equipment. For a tour vehicle they used a garishly painted 1965 Pontiac ambulance. As part of their lo-fi manifesto, they released their music only on vinyl for many years, allowing 'official' CD format releases only in the 2000's.I've mentioned these guys before, but this collection of singles is worth a listen. Thanks for the heads-up, Joe. Flagrant Taffy Pulling, gents.
An extract from an interesting editorial in Sunday's Washington Post:
As you may not have noticed, I have not been much of a bastard lately, due to far too much working like the wrong kind of bastard, and far too little time perusing the old internet tubes. Indeed, I just found out today that NFL apparently has merged with the USFL.
With the band in full artistic flower and Suzuki's sometimes moody, sometimes frenetic speak/sing/shrieking in full effect, Can released not merely one of the best Krautrock albums of all time, but one of the best albums ever, period. Tago Mago is that rarity of the early '70s, a double album without a wasted note, ranging from sweetly gentle float to full-on monster grooves. "Paperhouse" starts things brilliantly, beginning with a low-key chime and beat, before amping up into a rumbling roll in the midsection, then calming down again before one last blast. Both "Mushroom" and "Oh Yeah," the latter with Schmidt filling out the quicker pace with nicely spooky keyboards, continue the fine vibe. After that, though, come the huge highlights -- three long examples of Can at its absolute best. "Halleluwah" -- featuring the Liebezeit/Czukay rhythm section pounding out a monster trance/funk beat; Karoli's and Schmidt's always impressive fills and leads; and Suzuki's slow-building ranting above everything -- is 19 minutes of pure genius. The near-rhythmless flow of "Aumgn" is equally mind-blowing, with swaths of sound from all the members floating from speaker to speaker in an ever-evolving wash, leading up to a final jam. "Peking O" continues that same sort of feeling, but with a touch more focus, throwing in everything from Chinese-inspired melodies and jazzy piano breaks to cheap organ rhythm boxes and near babbling from Suzuki along the way. "Bring Me Coffee or Tea" wraps things up as a fine, fun little coda to a landmark record.Tago Mago has been cited as an influence by everybody from Radiohead to John Lydon to Primal Scream to the Jesus and Mary Chain to the Flaming Lips. (Spoon is even named after a Can song!) And according to the sometimes reliable Wikipedia, Tago Mago is included in a book called 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die.
Dave's iPod experiment has made me realize how much I owe you bastards for my musical development. I'm wondering how I ever found out about great music before I started lurking here, I have no clue! Sincerely, I owe you guys so much. Thanks for letting me join you!
I know you guys are too old for punk, but so is Pennywise. Lead vocalist/guitarist Jim Lindberg actually wrote a book about being a punk rock dad. And they've just released a new CD. Free Tunes, Punks!
