Salfino Top 10 Beatles Songs

Beatles

 

Unlike Pianow, I will not tip my hand by sharing my super-secret point allocation.

1. Hey Jude: Hypnotic, sweeping, majestic. So disciplined in its sonic momentum. And lyrically a tonic for a very turbulent time, evoking a shared spirituality that transcends labels and even religion itself.

2. I Am the Walrus: Only the Beatles could perform this song. Lennon’s lyrics are not merely trippy but completely unsettling. And it’s always on the verge of being torn apart by its ambition, yet somehow triumphs.

3. Here, There and Everywhere: The perfect song. A strong case can be made for it being No. 1 but unlike the top two it’s so modest in its performance, not letting anything get in the way of the pure poetry of McCartney’s finest lyric.

4. A Day in the Life: Hypnotic, sweeping, majestic. So disciplined in its sonic momentum. And lyrically a tonic for a very turbulent time, evoking a shared spirituality that transcends labels and even religion itself.

5. Here Comes the Sun: It’s perhaps ironic that Harrison, who spent so much songwriting energy on overt religiousity, would convey happiness and hope through such a simple metaphor with its spot-on musical accompaniment. Ringo somehow keeps seven-and-1/2 time.

6: Strawberry FieldsLennon one-upped McCartney in their nostalgic odes to Liverpool by cleverly not talking about a place really at all, but rather a state of mind. The song sounds like it’s coming from inside your head.

7. For No OneMcCartney really owns Revolver, quite a feat given how amazing Lennon’s songs are, too. Far more musically ambitious than Here, There and Everywhere. Delicate and poignant but also so self-possessed. And ultimately that’s what really gets you, its resignation.

8. Dear Prudence: Lennon is rarely so charming. The song also has one of the most thrilling finishing kicks in rock history, due mostly to McCartney’s incredible drumming filling in for the AWOL Ringo, whose misfortune is being a musical genius in a band with three bigger geniuses.

9. Happiness is a Warm Gun: One of rock’s great singers really belts it out without the voice alterations he often insisted upon. Both McCartney and Harrison have said this is their favorite song on The White Album. Seeming to thread together different songs, perhaps it planted the seed in McCartney for the Abbey Road medley.

10. Long, Long, Long: Ringo again is the hero and I love the mix with its almost whispering lyrics. The music is so good that it’s immediately clear you should be straining to listen. This is the moment, for me, when George’s became far more than some third wheel.

Salfino Top 10 Stones Songs

Rolling_Stones_1971

 

I found this much easier than the Beatles list. Not that it was easy though. Rather than link all the songs via YouTube, let’s try a Spotify playlist. 

1. Gimme Shelter: What is that opening guitar? A riff? A lead? Whatever it is, it’s unforgettable. Everything comes together almost magically; the backup singer woken up from sleep with no notice and too hoarse to sing somehow leads to rock’s greatest mistake.

2. Moonlight Mile: Jagger steps out of character and the result is a warm intimacy that feels perfect whether he’s coming down from a cocaine high or a long, cold and lonely night on the road.

3. Tumbling Dice: Odd that something so laid back and groovy could be the product of 150 takes. The way Richards and Mick Taylor play off each other just slays me. There’s a fever in the funk house, alright.

4. Sway: Like “Moonlight Mile,” rumored to be actually a Jagger-Taylor composition. Taylor’s guitars shine regardless. Has anyone ever played better than on Taylor’s solo outro? Doubtful. That’s the sex, but the intro riff is what first seduces.

5. Miss You: Maybe the most bad-ass thing the Stones ever did was record a “disco” song when their fans were busy rioting over its sudden prominence. Of course, Miss You isn’t a disco song at all, whatever that even is. But it’s damn fine on the dance floor.

6. No Expectations: Much of Beggar’s Banquet seems posey to me: satanic (Sympathy for the Devil), salacious (Stray Cat Blues), revolutionary (Street Fighting Man), Dylanesque (Jigsaw Puzzle), blue collar (Salt of the Earth). But this seems very real and a fitting, beautiful swang song for Brian Jones.

7. Under My Thumb: Sounds as cool as the narrarator suggests he is as the winner of this sexual power struggle, a hallmark of all post-adolescent relationships. Accusations of misogyny are just lazy. The marimba riff works. And Marc Bolan made a career out of mimicing Jagger’s use of his breath as an instrument.

8. Memory Motel: One of the few (only?) songs where Jagger and Richards alternate lead vocals. Love the piano and the sha-la-las. I like the songs where Jagger as principle lyricist seems like an actual person.

9. Let It Bleed: For all its tongue-in-cheek perversion, it’s really a song about needing someone and being willing and even eager to reciprocate in kind. In other words, nice. They backed into it.

10. Ventilator Blues: You feel like you’re doing something wrong when you listen to this song. It’s one of their nastier riffs, fittingly: Your woman’s cussing/you can hear her scream/You feel like murder/in the first degree….

Just in case you skipped the intro, you can listen to this album, of sorts, right here via Spotify.

 

 

Night Music: St. Paul & the Broken Bones, “I’ve Been Loving You (too Long to Stop Now)”

One thing about the core of us here at the Remnants is that we all became friends thanks to baseball: in particular fantasy baseball.

And, maybe there is something about how our respective and collective brains process, that makes it so that while we all do love baseball and games, there are a bunch of other things we all love, and are happy to discuss ad naseum.

Like music.

So, when our good buddy from Rotowire, Derek Van Riper, asked me if I was familiar with St. Paul & the Broken Bones, I had to plead ignorance, but that did not last too long.

I did a YouTube search, and found a song entitled Call Me, which was pretty good. It also reminded me so much of the late great wonderful Otis Redding, and his band the Barkays, who sadly died in a plane crash in December of 1967.

And, as I finished watching the Call Me video, what did I spot but a live cover of the band performing Redding’s wonderful I’ve Been Loving You (too Long to Stop Now).

Now, to be fair, my love of Redding and that song tracks back to a pair of vintage all time classic albums: Otis Redding Live in Europe, and Jimi Hendrix & Otis Redding Live at Monterey (which made my essential 50 albums list).

So, the fact that Paul Janeway (St. Paul) and his crew pretty deftly pull off their homage and sound is high praise. I mean, these guys really have the essence of the Stax/Volt sound down.

Here is the band covering Otis:

And, as a means of comparison, here is Otis and the Barkays at the peak of their form at the Monterey International Pop Music Festival, just about six months before they perished.

Otis is so good and cool, and his band is so tight that it is hard to imagine anyone even trying what St. Paul and mates did. They certainly get props from me. Thanks DVR!

 

 

 

Night Music: Bob Dylan, “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again.”

Bob_Dylan_-_Blonde_on_BlondeBob Dylan has been mentioned all over the place on the site since we started waxing quasi poetic about what music means to us. And, Dylan’s phenomenal Blonde on Blonde made the group’s consensus Top 50.

But, I cannot remember a Dylan song actually being singled out in the same way all the other stuff works its way to the top of our collective creative urges.

Blonde on Blonde is my favorite Dylan album by a long shot, and that actually says a lot.

But, my  love for it traces back to around April, 1967, when my parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary. For that year, in honor of the occasion, my father bought my mother–and I suppose the family–a big Magnavox stereo in a big piece of mahogany furniture.

That was ok, but what it really meant was that I could lay claim to the family’s portable Admiral phonograph, which I then stashed in my bedroom.

I had pretty much stopped buying singles by that time anyway, so every night, before free-form FM worked its way to the Sacramento airwaves to which I would be stuck for a few more years before I could return to my beloved bay area for good, I would drop a stack of albums on the spindle to lull me to sleep.

The Beach Boys All Summer Long and Surfin’ USA were staples in those days, along with early Beatles and Stones. But, since albums cost a lot–$4 in those days, which was a lot–I did not purchase too many, too often. Meaning like when I first was buying 45’s, five years earlier, I would listen to both sides of everything simply because the song was there and I could.

So, every night side two of disc one, which feature I Want You, Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat, Just Like a Woman, and the clip link linked below, of Blonde on Blonde hit the changer as well.

With Al Kooper on keys, and Robbie Robertson on guitar, along with Rick Danko and Joe South among others, Blonde on Blonde was recorded both in Nashville, then New York.

And, well, spending the past few days in New York, in anticipation of Tout Wars, I thought a number of times about early Dylan while enjoying walking up and the streets, cos New York is such a great walking city. But I also thought of the man, and just what a great artist, singer, songwriter, and generally pretty good guy he has been, and is.

Further, I would like to think that his deconstruction of his own catalogue over the years has been brilliant, keeping him and his songs fresh and valid in a way the audience might not appreciated, but that I hope I do.

In fact this version of Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again is quite different from the one I fell in love with as I went to sleep in the later 60’s, but it is just as great and fun.

Love ya Bob. Always will!

http://youtu.be/_hKSEIAXzCU

 

 

 

Steveslist: My Top Five Favorite Live Songs

In honor of my mate Steve, who is in Phoenix as I write, getting ready to draft in the NL LABR auction Sunday, I conjured this list. For, tis Steve who started this little subset off.

I am listing my very five favorite live tunes. I am sure we all have favorites, and I tried to find the vinyl/CD version of each, which is where I first found them. The odd song out is Richard Thompson’s Shoot Out the Lights, from the album of the same name, and which is a great album cut, and even better live one.

Anyway, here we go, starting with my all-time favorite live Hendrix song, which is also my favorite Hendrix song period. Recorded with Band of Gypsys (featuring Buddy Miles on drums and Billy Cox on bass) who recorded one album–a live one–performed and recorded December 31, 1970, at the Fillmore East.

The entire album is great, but Hendrix’ playing on Message of Love–his ridiculous mixing of rock and blues and jazz chords and progressions–along with playing that sounds so casual and relaxed, and yet is so visceral with every note just perfect.

Tell me if you have ever heard a more beautiful and riveting live guitar performance, and I will be happy to listen.

Going next to the Fillmore West, Combination of the Two  kicks off Big Brother and the Holding Company’s phenomenal Cheap Thrills album. Killer James Gurley guitar, great percussion, and of course the great Janis Joplin. This song is different for a rocker, but it is so very right.

Maybe the best duel lead guitars trading licks on any song ever. Dickie Betts and Duane Allman cutting notes with razor blades, along with Berry Oakley bass that digs down into the earth’s magma. That song would be One Way Out.

This was tough, because I had to try and choose from Sweet Jane and Rock and Roll from Reed’s great Rock’n’Roll Animal album, and I guess just because the latter cranks through so perfectly–to me anyway–I picked it.

If you have never seen Richard Thompson play guitar live, you are missing out one of the great performers and players on earth. One of the wittiest songwriters, too. I have seen Thompson live nine times, and he always plays this song, sometimes with guests (I have seen him play it twice with Henry Kaiser). My fave part is his playing with his tuners with his fret hand, while crunching royal with his pick hand.

 

 

8:30 PM Music

My big Amazon order from Santa started trickling in today, beginning with The Clash first album (original UK version – of course, although I should eventually get both), Willie Nelson – Red-Headed Stranger and the Bad Brains’ first. Of course, the Bad Brains CD got cracked first.

ETHNIC!
PUNK!
with ATTITUDE!

No accordians, please.

Quick Circle Jerks Primer And Story

Circle Jerks were a pioneering LA hardcore band fronted by former Black Flagger and now legendary Off! (who sound a lot like the Circle Jerks) singer Keith Morris.

A couple friends of mine and me went to see the Circle Jerks in Philly back in the day and we had gone to a bar down the street from the show to have a few pre-show drinks. We’re walking back to the show and a van pulls up and a guy says, “Do you know where Love Hall is?” We tried to describe it, but the driver eventually told us to hop in since we were both going to the same place.

There were a bunch of guys in the van and one of us said, “So, you’re going to the Circle Jerks show. . .” One of the guys answered, “We are the Circle Jerks.” I don’t remember saying much else to them being that the ride lasted probably a grand total of five minutes. But it’s a cool memory anyway.

Here’s my personal favorite Circle Jerks tune:

Album Cover Album: A Tribute to a Tribute

Back when I was in college, someone–a relative, I don’t remember which one–gave me a book called Album Cover Album for Christmas. I was a record-shop hound and loved album art, but at first didn’t really see the appeal of a book of album covers. I mean, sure, nice, but I’d rather have music. Plus this was put together by the guy who did those fairly hideous covers for Yes. Which is a roundabout way of saying that I didn’t get it at first.

But as I returned to Album Cover Album its influence began to grab hold of me. The odd juxtapositions, the albums (usually old) I’d never seen before, the paintings of Mati Klarwein, which I loved, and a myriad of other delights offered me a chance to browse the record store from the comfort of my own bed. Not better than music, perhaps, but in the end a gift fully appreciated.

In today’s New York Times the music critic Ben Ratliff writes about his youthful encounter with Album Cover Album, in a warm appreciation that also provokes him to say: “Over the next 15 years or so I made my way toward most of the records in the book, consciously or not. As I started to learn something about what a Cecil Taylor record sounded like, as opposed to, say, a Ted Nugent record or a Michael Nyman record, the spaghetti of musical style represented on each page would accelerate my blood, as if each grouping represented a question you had to answer within yourself: What do these different entities have in common? How can you hear them all and think all of this has something to do with you?

“I distrust lists of records you ought to hear, even though making them is part of my job. When you see them, you’re usually reading someone with a well-meaning desire to protect and restrict the understanding of music; you’re reading a subtext of fear and anxiety as much as one of pleasure.”

Which seems to get up into the throat of our arguments about the Remnants’ Essential Albums list.

Album Cover Album, Ratliff concludes, “had no fear or anxiety.”

Essential Remnants: #1! Elvis Costello, This Year’s Model

The lyrics sneer right along with the music. For forlorned teen lovers forever and always. (MS) One of the all-time openers: “No Action.” (GM) The first five Costello albums are uniformly brilliant. No bad songs. This one is the first that is all Attractions, and it kills. (PK) Oh, Elvis was still angry, but he channeled it all here, and began to show how much more he was than just mad. (LM)

Essential Remnants: #3. The Beatles, Revolver

Kids: Don’t do drugs unless you’re the Beatles. Paul dominates here. (MS) Yesterday or Today was the elpee where I discovered the Beatles were more than just popular, but Revolver is stonger still. (PK) I wouldn’t argue if you call this their best, but I hear the seeds of them starting to take themselves very seriously, with lesser results. (GM)