I’ve had a crack at a list of new albums and reissues, but not everything musical that moved me in the past year was in long playing form. So here’s 20 other things, in no particular order.
“The Seventh Seal” by Nicole Atkins
Atkins has featured on my last two year-end lists for her gorgeous voice, her skill as a songwriter, her flare for the dramatic in both melody and lyric and live presentation. We’re still waiting for a proper follow-up to her spectacular 2007 LP Neptune City, although while on tour with the Avett Brothers she has been road testing new stuff. Meanwhile, this song (inspired by Ingmar Bergman’s film of the same title) eschews cult singer Scott Walker’s grandiose orchestral treatment and instead energizes the original with propulsive fuzz bass (from Music Inspired By The Film 30 Century Man on Lakeshore Records)
Speaking of Scott Walker…
Scott Walker: 30 Century Man (documentary)
The dilemma faced by anyone hoping to document the life of a recluse is this: what are you going to show people? Scott Walker is a Garbo-like figure who for a brief time, as a member of The Walker Brothers, rivaled the Beatles and Rolling Stones within the British music scene. He recorded four eponymous records that, while scattered with some MOR, featured epic balladry with head-spinningly inventive arrangements, densely complex wordplay and Walker’s resonant, commanding voice. The combined effect is a bit like listening to Tom Jones produced by Brian Eno, while under the command of psilocybin. Although Walker hosted his own BBC show in the 60s, the tapes have all been wiped and only glimpses exist today. And although he agreed to sit for an interview for this film, Walker has led a hermetic life in recent decades. Director Stephen Kijak and cinematographer Grant Gee came up with an ingenious workaround for the absence of contemporaneous visuals to go with the music. They invited Walker’s collaborators, contemporaries (including David Bowie) and those who’ve been influenced by Walker (Radiohead, Damon Albarn, Johnny Marr, Sting) to listen to the music and then simply filmed their faces as the music sweeps over them. It’s a surprisingly powerful thing to watch someone listen. British singer Alison Goldfrapp recounts her first reaction to hearing Walker’s work, and it’s as good a review as any critic ever wrote: “This is proper music.” This is the best film about music this year (available on DVD)
Speaking of tributes to influential artists …
“Ben (a capella)” by Michael Jackson
There was plenty of sadness (and creepiness) surrounding the latter-day world of Michael Jackson. The saddest thing of all was that it stopped being about the music for him some time ago – whether by his own choice or a fickle world’s interest in celebrity supplanting art. I found this unlabeled voice-only version of Jackson’s 70s ballad, which was recorded for a horror film about a rat. Listening to it now, it is striking how the then young MJ sounds like he’s singing to his adult self (“Most people would turn you away/I don’t listen to a word they say”) and, shorn of the vocal mannerisms that overwhelmed his post-Thriller work, what an uncommonly gifted vocalist he was. (available on white label 12”)
Speaking of uncommonly gifted vocalists …
“Don’t Forget Me (iTunes Originals Version)” by Neko Case
On her LP Middle Cyclone, Case used a chorus of busted pianos to play Harry Nilsson’s skewed ballad. Here, she’s accompanied only by guitar and the harmony vocals of Kelly Hogan, to stunning effect. (available on iTunes)
Speaking of stripped-down treatments …
“I Wanna Be Adored (demo)” by Stone Roses
Hard to believe the self-titled debut album by Manchester’s Stone Roses is 20 years old. The record has aged better than many from the heady days of the Madchester scene (yes, I’m talking to you, Happy Mondays). This anniversary release (which comes with a DVD of a live performance by the Roses marred by poor lighting and singer Ian Brown’s ardent love of singing flat) also includes a CD of demos that sound thin when compared with producer John Leckie’s necromantic treatments on the finished album. But even in malnourished form, the melody and attitude evident in these demos still shines through. (from Stone Roses Legacy Edition: Silvertone/Sony Legacy)
Speaking of Stone Roses …
“Fool’s Gold” by Calvin Law
Twenty years ago, I was in London over the Christmas holidays and Stone Roses’ off-album single seemed to be pouring from every open doorway, every club, every PA. This thrilling cover takes an old-school funk take on the song. Without aping producer John Leckie’s original “Funky Drummer” trance beat, the Seattle-based artists assembled to back singer Calvin Law find new grooves to mine from this iconic British track. (from Kearny Barton: Wheedle’s Groove on Light In The Attic)
Speaking again of John Leckie …
“Vanishing Girl” by Dukes of Stratosphear
The members of XTC readily credit the production of Leckie (whose resume includes both Pink Floyd and Cowboy Junkies!) for the sterling authenticity of the group’s two-volume love letter to UK psychedelic music created under the Dukes’ alias. Everything from the shimmering guitar figure to the melodic bass counterpoint to the dry rasp of the snare to the immaculate Hollies-like harmonies on this clever evocation of love betrayed (“People gossip on the door step, they think they know the score/’She’s giving him the runaround, the man from #4’”), this goes eons beyond tribute and becomes a chip off the original chocolate fireball of 60s classic pop. For added fun, this reissue includes a fine demo for the tune. (from reissue of Psonic Psunspots: Ape Records)
Speaking of pop classicism …
“Soft Drink Commercial” by We Five
Although mostly known for their cover of Ian & Sylvia Tyson’s “You Were On My Mind,” there’s evidence that We Five had a good sideline going as pitchmen for Coca Cola. Tucked away near the end of this comprehensive career overview is almost eight minutes of various attempts to record a Coke jingle. (from There Stands The Door: Best of We Five on Big Beat/Trident)
Speaking of unorthodox means of sharing your music …
“Put ‘Em In The Graveyard” by Marah
They’ve spent much of the last year doing the old “getting it together in the country” thing. After a tumultuous 2008, Dave Bielanko and company have been holed up in rural Pennsylvania recording a new album. This first sampler was made available on Halloween as a pay-per-download, or free to fans who recommended the song to five friends. The sound is ramshackle, but like most things this group has done in recent years, there’s indelible passion and a fearless love of making music at the core. (get it at www.marah-usa.com)
Speaking of groups traveling a rocky road …
“You Get What You Deserve (acoustic demo)” by Big Star
Alex Chilton’s solo treatment of this Big Star classic is even more venomous than the full-band original. Although largely ignored in their day, the heaps of posthumous praise and attention focused on the group now is entirely deserved and their greatness is not overstated. Even the cast-offs assembled for the definitive box set released this year are pungent with greatness. (from Keep An Eye On The Sky on Rhino Records)
Speaking of belated recognition of artists …
“Chords of Fame (live)” by Phil Ochs
Whatever his career failings, nobody can question the integrity of Ochs’ life’s work. He’s a giant, and the next time you see someone refer to an artist as a hero, measure them against Phil Ochs and I wager they will come out far short. Originally recorded as a Buck Owens’-style foot-stomper, the despair at this song’s heart about the poisoning of artistic achievement is even more depressing in this solo performance (from Amchitka: The 1970 Concert That Launched Greenpeace).
Speaking of singing, songwriting titans …
“See The Sky About To Rain (live at The Cellar Door, Washington)” by Neil Young
For all the vaunted achievement of Neil Young’s Blu-Ray retrospective Archives Vol. 1, the marvel is the manner in which the simplest things are brought into focus by the technology. In stunning 24/192 resolution audio, this small club solo performance – just Neil at the piano before a rapt crowd performing this number (unreleased at the time, later to surface via On The Beach) — goes beyond merely capturing the intimacy of the original performance to deliver something that seems almost voyeuristic. Sure, Archives does a raging job of conveying the studio-bound thunder of early Crazy Horse sessions, but it’s the quieter stuff that keeps drawing me back. (from Archives Vol. 1 on Reprise)
Speaking of the interface between technology and music …
“What You Do To Me” by Blakroc
There was some animated discussion on the ND site over the inclusion of Radiohead in the readers’ top 10 for the decade. But what to make of this, a collaboration between blues-steeped rockers The Black Keys and a coterie of rappers? The music is roadhouse gritty, but hip hoppers Billy Danze, Jim Jones and siren Nicole Wray sound right at home rhyming and singing over top of the Keys’ dirty groove. Given that so much of hip-hop is reverent of older music (evident through sampling especially), it makes a convincing case that you can give props to your predecessors and be the new, too. (from Blakroc on Blakroc Project)
Speaking of hip-hop …
“Savior Beans” by Madvillain
Something to look forward to in the coming year. The collaboration between Stones Throw label tyro Madlib and the masterful lyricist and meta-rapper MF Doom – under the name Madvillain — remains a watershed achievement. Madlib, the hyper productive producer and Doom, the metal masked rapper whose every release is both a sharp critique of hip-hop gangsta clichés and a clinic on mystifying rhyme confabulation, seem to bring out the best in each other. And now, via a leak during a BBC spinning session by DJ J Rocc, we get the first taste (and tasty it is!) from the new Madvillain set in the works. Sample lyric? “Spread it, take credit like Bernie/Madoff with more shares than smears on a gurney/Emergency/Have a peaceful journey/A legal attorney …”
Speaking further of hip-hop …
“Empire State of Mind” by Jay Z and Alicia Keys
I spent election night 2008 in New York City, watching that city revel in Obama’s victory. Almost exactly a year later, I was back there and in Madison Square Gardens to watch the Knicks pull out all the stops (off court, at least) to convince Lebron James that his future free-agency should bring him to Gotham. Courtside that night was most of the World Series-winning Yankees — the tickertape from that afternoon’s victory parade still swirling in the air — Chris Rock, hip-hop pioneer Grandmaster Flash spinning tracks during play breaks, a host of Knicks alumni and Jay Z; the unspoken message to Lebron being “this doesn’t happen in Cleveland, baby.” And yes, Lebron made Jigga’s lyrics come true – after schooling Knicks’ defense with a sweet fadeaway, he ran back up court, stuck out his hand and did a no-look high-five with the rapper. This track was playing everywhere on the island and inside the Garden. Aside from being a great triumphal hook courtesy of Keys, the song seems to suggest the one thing that might humble Jay’s pride in having conquered Manhattan is his reverence for the city itself. (from The Blue Print III)
Speaking of New York art …
The Velvet Underground: New York Art book edited by Johan Kugelberg
Normally, I’d be the first to say that everything you need to know about great music ought to be evident within the music, period. But this coffee table book challenges that assumption. Although it includes nice appreciations from Vaclev Havel and critic Jon Savage and commentary from members Lou Reed and Moe Tucker, New York Art is, at its essence, a collection of artifacts related to the group – photos, articles, posters, hand scrawled notes, lyrics, scans of acetates and tapes. As much new information may be gleaned from this meticulously and comprehensively curated collection, the mystery and accomplishment of VU is only deepened by familiarity. The year’s best music book.
Speaking of buried musical treasure …
Love Lost by Love
It’s been more than three years since Arthur Lee left us, tragically just as he was finding his form with a reconfigured version of his band, Love. Although the group hit its peak – heck, I’d argue it was the zenith of 60s music, period – with 1967’s Forever Changes, I was skeptical when I heard rumors of a previously unheard 1971 album being readied for release. While it consists of acoustic demos and alternate versions of tracks that would later surface on Lee’s 1972 solo debut Vindicator, Love Lost hangs together surprisingly well as an album. While it contains none of the orchestral grandeur of Forever Changes, it also scales back and focuses the heaviness of Vindicator. It is a worthy footnote to Lee’s saga. (available from Sundazed).
Speaking of worthy footnotes …
“Jesus, Etc (live)” by Norah Jones
Jones musical reorientation on The Fall is the main story, but this cover of the Wilco song, included on a bonus live EP with some versions of the LP, milks the song for something sweet and absent from Wilco’s latter-day neo-soul treatment. Whether she intended it or not, I’ll take this as Jones’ tribute to the song’s co-author, Jay Bennett, who left us far too soon and far too sadly this year.
Speaking of being gone, albeit in a very different sense …
“If You Loved Me At All (live studio version)” by Julian Cope
Nowadays, former Teardrop Explodes honcho Cope is a curious figure – a serious student of ancient ruins, a scholar of musical subcultures and sometime indie music maker. The year 2010 will mark two decades since the recording of Cope’s ecological magnum opus, Peggy Suicide. This track starts off as a fairly straightforward treatment of the album’s groovy original. But this being Cope, it spins quickly off into a free-form improv that gathers intensity and reaches a frightening climax, the singer shrieking “WHEN YOU’RE WAKING UP INSIDE, THERE ARE PHENOMENAL DOUBTS YOU CANNOT HIDE!” In the intervening years, Cope has awakened to those doubts and his wayward musical course has fearlessly mapped that terrain. (from Peggy Suicide: Deluxe Edition)
Speaking of notable independent spirits …
“Wherever You Are” by Megan Hamilton
Formerly of Toronto, now of Kingston, Hamilton’s 2009 release is one of those unclassifiable gems that tends to show up the lack of originality among her peers. “Wherever You Are” gives voice to a specific kind of melancholic wistfulness I associate with reconciling with regret (from See Your Midnight Breath In The Shipyard, available here)
