Half as Much to Halleluhwah

"Half As Much"  Patsy Cline  The Legendary Patsy Cline
"Half Asleep (alternate version)"  School of Seven Bells  Dream Pop [Mojo]
"Half Forgotten Daydreams"  John Cameron  The Sound Gallery, Vol. 1
"Half Jack"  The Dresden Dolls  Dresden Dolls
"Half Light I"  Arcade Fire  The Suburbs
"Half Light II (No Celebration)"  Arcade Fire  The Suburbs
"Half of You"  Cat Power  You Are Free
"Halfway Home"  TV On The Radio  Dear Science
"Halfway to Heaven"  Candi Staton  The Best of Candi Staton
"Halleluhwah"  Can  The Roots of the Sex Pistols [Mojo]

I am trying to get back to a more regular posting routine.  I worry too much about what I am going to say (especially in light of what the final product ultimately turns out to be).  It is also seems that doing this is a learned skill, not just the writing, which improves with practice, but the mechanical acts involved in this - budgeting the time to listen to the songs, scanning youtube/vimeo/megacafe for video links, reading about the various artists - it all takes time that requires accommodation.  Moving around my established pattern of not doing much at all has proven more difficult than one would expect.  Just as I think I am getting back into a routine of blogging here, I discover it has been 10 days since my last post . . . ugh.

There was a period, just after I got Dear Science when, every time it would come on, regardless of what song it was, my older son would ask, "who is this?"  That question is always the first clue that he is enjoying the song.  It is always kind of satisfying when I can get his attention enough, and overcome his inherent (and completely accurate) belief that he is cooler than me, that he wants to know more about something I am listening to.  (of course in this case that satisfaction is completely stolen, since Charles got me Dear Science as a Christmas present - that, For Emma, and Hercules & Love Affair - it was a good holiday).

That was my experience for most of these 10 songs.  I found myself saying "Who is this? Oh, I need to listen to more of this . . ."  Which probably means Mojo is doing its job - the tracks from School of Seven Bells and Can are intriguing and I will be pursuing more music from both groups.  Although I do not expect Charles to be tolerating 18-minute Krautrock workouts all that often.

I am fascinated that Can just pulled Damo Suzuki literally off the street one day, and he was their lead singer in concert that evening.  This does not happen in my current profession - no one is coming by my office saying, "you know, I really like your style . . . we have this case going on at the court of appeals next week, why don't you come brief for us?  Swing by the office, we'll research together."

Gabriel Intro to Garageland

"Gabriel Intro"  Tim Barry  28th & Stonewall
"The Game Gets Old"  Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings  I Learned The Hard Way
"Game Is My Middle Name"  Betty Davis  Betty Davis
"Games Without Frontiers"  Peter Gabriel  Peter Gabriel (melting face)
"Ganges Delta Blues"  Ry Cooder & V.M. Bhatt  A Meeting By The River
"Gangsta Sh*t"  Outkast  Stankonia
"Gangster Of Love"  Jimmy Norman  What It Is! Funky Soul and Rare Grooves
"Gangsters"  Neville Staple  The Dawning of a New Era [Mojo disc]
"Gannet"  Tommy Smith  Beasts of Scotland
"Garageland"  The Clash  The Clash

Whitney died this past weekend. This has absolutely no impact on me except as another aspect of my continual aging.  As with the Super Bowl, now the performers of my youth are dying and it is not heartrendingly tragic, but pathetically predictable.  Do not get me wrong.  At 48, she was too young to die.  She was ubiquitous in my youth, and it is sad that she was destroyed by drugs and it is sad that she is dead.  But it is sad Joe Strummer died at 50. It is sad that Jerry died (53), and it is sad that Zappa died (52), and it is sad that George Harrison (58) and John Entwistle (57) died too.  At this point, Whitney (and I) was much  closer to those guys than to Kurt or Jimi.  Like those other artists, Whitney had ceased to be a contributing artist (at least in the genre they had become famous or with the intensity of their youth), and was largely a dominant personality from her audience's past.

Charles and I were having this discussion the other day.  By any reasonable measure, it is horrible that Kurt died as young as he did.  But by dying young, his legend is forever intact.   If Whitney had died 20 years ago, there would be no "Being Bobby Brown."  If Michael had died after Bad, there would be no plastic surgery, no implications, no trial, and he would be remembered without adulteration for an immortal album bracketed by two great ones.  (which, frankly is how I think of Bob Stinson - Hootenany, Let It Be, Tim - as great a three album run as any - and yes, the Replacements are great because of Bob . . . but I digress.)  Charles disagrees.  Her exact words: "Kurt should be here getting fat and old with the rest of us."

Of course, maybe the legend is all that survives anyway.  If Michael & Whitney are remembered at all, it will be because of the music, not because of what happened to them in their forties. People already want to forget and forgive.  Whitney's songs have spiked to number one on iTunes since her death, and that can't all just be nostalgic 40 year olds.  The same thing happened to Michael.

Some thoughts from the set:

• After Joe became a millionaire off his songs of class warfare, did he still sit in his garage with his bullshit detector?
• The video for "Gangsters" is just joyous.  Everyone in that bar knows every single word.  Neville Staple can (and does) just stop singing and let the audience keep it going for him.
• While there was an official video for "Games Without Frontiers" the link above is so much greater - it addresses the question "What the hell are Segways good for?" with the ridiculous answer, "They let aging prog-rockers roll around on stage, complete with dramatic synchronized lurching!"
• That melting face album was seminal.  The hollow percussion in the songs was distinctive and I was exactly the right age for the politics of "Biko" & "Games Without Frontiers." I still think (with no substantial basis whatsoever) that without this album, Paul Simon never makes Graceland (you can decide for yourself whether to call that credit or blame).
• It may be that you are sometimes just swayed by what you encounter first.  Charles is much more partial to the waxed car album.  We have the same discussion over X (me - More Fun, her - Big Black Sun).

F***ing In Rhythm & Sorrow to Fairchild

"F***ing In Rhythm & Sorrow"  The Sugarcubes  Life's Too Good
"Facing East"  Thievery Corporation  The Richest Man In Babylon
"Faculty of Fears"  Lightspeed Champion  Life Is Sweet! Nice To Meet You
"Fade Away and Radiate"  Blondie  Parallel Lines
"Fade Together"  Franz Ferdinand  You Could Have It So Much Better
"Faded Love"  Patsy Cline  The Legendary Patsy Cline
"Fader Rules"  Superchunk  Lounge Ax Defense & Relocation Compact Disc
"Failures"  Joy Division  Substance
"Fainting Spells"  Crystal Castles  Crystal Castles (II)
"Fairchild"  Porter Wagoner  Rubber Room: The Haunting Poetic Songs of Porter Wagoner 1966-1977


So the Super Bowl happened this past weekend.  Last year, Christina fucked up the national anthem and I spent some time discussing the performers for that song at super bowls through the ages.  My comments about the halftime show extended to "I don't know if they have ever gotten it right."  This still holds, but at least this year was largely innocuous, which might be the best you can hope for.  (Well, what I was really hoping for was for Madonna to come out in a Denver Broncos jersey and sing "Like A Virgin" before going into a Tim Tebow kneel, because that would have been awesome and offensive in a way that the FCC could not fine her for.  Instead, we got M.I.A. being offensive in a way she will get fined for, and I have to admit it probably was the best part of the bland new song she was helping Madge get through.  On the up-side this was not the nightmare shit-show that the Black-Eyed Peas gave us (It was Up With Electronic People and Will.I.Am stole Gary Oldman's hair from the Fifth Element).

I admit to being stressed that the artists of my teens are now playing the super bowl - we have moved past Stevie Wonder and the Rolling Stones and now it is Madonna and Prince.  The Sugarcubes had a reunion tour, and Disney briefly tried selling a Joy Division t-shirt - that is how hold I am now.

There is a lot of hate for Thievery Corporation among internet wonks - "inoffensive" and "bland" are tossed about.  I think that is what I like about them.  Sometimes I want to be able to put something on that is just there and doesn't stomp on my ability to talk/drink/dance with my friends.  It is sort of the opposite of Boxcutter - music I like that I can never seem to find a time to play.  I can usually find a place for this music, but largely because I don't have to concentrate on it.  I actually do mean all of that in a good way.

E.T. (Extraterrestrial) to East St. Louis Toodle-Oo

"E.T. (Extraterrestrial)"  Outkast  ATLiens
"Early In The Morning"  The Bottle Rockets  Bottle Rockets
"Early In The Morning"  Harry Nilsson  Nilsson Schmilsson
"Early To Bed"  Morphine  Like Swimming
"The Earthmen"  Paddy Kingsland  The Sound Gallery Vol. 1
"Earthquake"  Deerhunter  Halcyon Digest
"Ease Jimi"  Nightmares On Wax  Carboot Soul
"Easin' In (From Hell Up To Harlem)"  Edwin Starr  Can You Dig It?  Music and Politics of Black Action Films: 1968-1975
"East of Eden"  Lone Justice  Lone Justice
"East St. Louis Toodle-Oo"  Duke Ellington  Rhapsodies In Black: Music and Words From The Harlem Renaissance

I love that Maria McKee was a raging maniac who sabotaged any hope the huge main-stream career her voice offered her by having a tendency, as a younger woman, to bark like a seal onstage.

It has been a while since I posted last, and in that time Etta James, Johnny Otis, and Don Cornelius have all died.  What I know about Johnny Otis is just what I have learned in the past few weeks - he discovered Etta James (in fact was the person who chose that stage name for her).  He co-wrote and produced, "Roll With Me, Henry" which is one of my favorite Etta James songs.  He wrote "Hound Dog" for Big Mama Thornton, and seems like the kind of person who should get more credit than he did.  Also - "Willie & The Hand Jive" (The ladies in the front are Marie Adams & The Three Tons of Joy, and there is a little Lionel Hampton at the end.)

So I have mentioned my dad's record collection, and in particular his number of early Chess/Checker recordings.  A few years back, when Cadillac Records came out, he saw the movie, bought the soundtrack, and roundly criticized everyone's performance in the movie as not being as good as the original (my dad's full response to this movie was more nuanced than mere criticism - it validated his musical taste, and launched him into a fit of self-aggrandizement where he believed he was one of the few white people in the world to appreciate Little Walter).  Except for Beyonce, who did a great job as Etta James in his opinion.  The reason for this is that my father had no historical reference for Etta James.  While he could tell himself that he understood Howlin' Wolf & Muddy Waters (and especially Chuck Berry - I am probably going to start praising Mos Def's performance just to see how agitated he will get), as a woman, Etta James has no place in my dad's musical world. He could not claim credit for her, so there was no reason to criticize Beyonce's portrayal.  In fact, since the movie introduced her to my dad, I expect his understanding of Etta James is roughly "she looks and sounds just like Beyonce (whoever she is)."

My first knowledge of Don Cornelius was as one of the two men who would tell us that Saturday cartoons were over (Dick Clark was the other).  I liked Soul Train better than Bandstand because it had an animated train at the beginning - I could believe cartoons were continuing for just that much longer.  This kind of sucks now - the music on that show has become an integral part of my music library, and it would be nice to be able to say that my 6-year old self was that aware of it all, but I can't claim there was even a passing knowledge of the show beyond its opening and the deep-voiced host whose appearance meant it was time to find something else to do.  A quick romp through you-tube demonstrates what Don Cornelius gave the world.  Soul Train provided an alternate platform for artists that most folks were ignoring (not just kids looking for the Mystery Machine).  Given the chance I would go back and make my child-self watch these shows for the James Brown appearances alone (See here when JB tells Don he is quitting music to tour HBCUs and figure out how to make them better).  Peace, Love, and Soul.