Football is a debased game. But I’m up late editing the Fantasy Football Guide (available on newsstands and online at the end of June), and all I can hear is the Pixies. In other words, I’m glad to have Hanley Ramirez tonight in the two leagues in which I can own National Leaguers. Sweet, but, not enough.
And I’m glad I don’t have a kid who wants to play football. That would be debasing. Hmm, that is enough. Thanks.
This one came out 20 years ago last week. Like all alt-rock bands, an anniversary is the spur to getting back together, playing some shows and recording a couple of songs to make it all seem fresh. The funny thing is that the old stuff still sounds pretty fresh.
All the Japanese pop some forced this song into my head, and, to quote Lucinda Williams, I Can’t Let Go.
Not that I wish I could.
Kyu Sakamoto was sort of the Masanori Marukami of pop: Sakamoto the only Asian to log a #1 hit in Billboard history, and well, this is it. And, though he was a one-hit wonder here, though “Mashi” (the Giants nickname for Marukami, the first Japanese born in the Major Leagues) was kind of like that too, they at least both paved the way.
I guess it is pleasant enough, and when the song came out in 1963 it was indeed a huge hit (sold 13 million units overall). But, this song is certainly not pop as I think of it, and it is as far removed from rock and roll as Percy Faith and Mitch Miller and even Pat Boone’s obnoxious cover of Tutti Fruiti.
Not sure why it was such a big hit, though? Sort of muzak with words none of us knows, and as I thought about it, I thought about compiling a Steveslist of the six songs not sung in English to hit #1 on the Billboard chart.
But, as I looked at them, they were all really so awful–and I get they may evoke fond memories in some–that I just couldn’t do it.
However, they are:
I just don’t get any of these songs, save La Bamba, which is really a treatment of a Mexican folk song, being hits at all. Not that I am trying to be xenophobic, but in general the music is cheesy and most really cannot understand the words. Meaning if we were on Bandstand, and doing “Rate a Record,” we couldn’t say, “I give it a 73, Dick. It had a nice beat and I liked the lyrics.”
OTOH, I don’t get I’ve Never Been to Me or Abba songs (maybe tuneful, but so what?) or even Snoopy Versus the Red Baron (which I hated at the time as much as I hated Incense and Peppermints and In the Year 2525.)
BTW, this video of Sukiyaki is the official publicity one Sakamoto released. And, sadly, in another shot at fame, Sakamoto was killed as one of the fatalities resulting from the JAL air crash August 12, 1985 the worst air disaster in history.
So, on that sobering note, enjoy if you can. If you dare.
IGNORED OBSCURED RESTORED
One of my favorite albums of 2014 (so far) is Atlas by Real Estate. The 5 piece band was formed in New Jersey in 2008, but is now based in the latest hipster, indie rock mecca, Brooklyn.
The first single from the album was “Talking Backwards” but today’s SotW is the record’s opener – “Had to Hear.”
The most prominent feature of the song, obvious right out of the gate in its intro, is the jangly guitar strumming of vocalist/songwriter Martin Courtney and the simple, shimmering lead fills by Matt Mondanile. REM took it from the Byrds into the 80s and Real Estate has nudged it a little farther into the 21st century.
This music evokes a rural southern longing (though the band doesn’t have southern roots). It ambles along — steady rhythm, precisely arranged and played with mellow, intimate, softly sung vocals. If you like The Shins you’ll probably like Real Estate.
I had to hear you just to feel near you
I don’t need the horizon to tell me where the sky ends
It’s a subtle landscape where I come from
Courtney seems to be using the metaphor of physical distance to deny the need to hear his lover’s voice.
This is a lovely album of Americana. Other songs worth hearing are “Past Lives”, “The Bend”, “Crime”, “Horizon” and the instrumental “April’s Song” (which sounds a little to me like Human Sexual Response’s “Andy Fell”). Check out the whole record on Spotify. You won’t be disappointed.
Enjoy… until next week.
After his three-album foray into born-againedness, Dylan eventually decided to make a rock record. He looked for a rock star producer, talked to David Bowie, Frank Zappa and Elvis Costello, but was turned down, and ended up with Mark Knopfler. The result was something of a comeback album called Infidels.
I’m a big fan of the first of Dylan’s Christian albums, Slow Train Coming, but I lost interest in the others, and don’t think I’d ever listened to Infidels until today. I needed something in the background while editing football profiles, if you know what I mean, something to fill the space without making too much noise or too much singing along.
The first song on Infidels is a typical long story song called Jokerman. It’s pretty good, with some cool syncopated drums and a prominent bass line, and some understated slide guitar. You can hear it here.
It turns out that Dylan hired Sly and Robbie as his rhythm section for these sessions, explaining the distinctive bottom. It also turns out that he conceived this record after befriending Mick Taylor, the former Stones’ guitarist, with whom he intended to collaborate. Taylor, Sly and Robbie play a huge part on this album, which after Jokerman loses much of its sense of melody and turns into a series of vamps, with Dylan bleating on top. Well, not really on top, since his voice is mixed behind the music, kind of in the distance.
It turns out that Knopfler had to go on tour before the album was mixed, and Columbia pressed Dylan to turn the sides in in order to make the Christmas season release date. Dylan turned them over to the engineer, who did the final mixes. Knopfler wasn’t pleased. But it isn’t the sound of the album that irks as much as the lack of melody. Good for editing, bad for paying attention to, apart from Jokerman, which is of a little interest musically.
Some months later, Dylan made his first public appearance in a good while, on Late Night with David Letterman. He performed three songs with a band of new wave kids, who chunked up Jokerman, so it was less island and a little more Sunset Strip.
Thanks mostly to Wikipedia for these facts, if they are straight, and this good story otherwise.
1) Shared a lot of this with Lawr privately already, inspiring this post.
2) Peter’s derisive (found that on thesaurus.com) comments about Fu Manchu have inspired a Fu-fest for me.
3) Ran some errands on a beautiful Friday late afternoon/evening yesterday and was cranking King Of The Road loud. (In my 2009 Nissan Cube.)
4) For a rock ‘n’ roll site (well, supposedly anyway), the term “riff” is not used nearly enough.
5) Beach Boys be damned.
She’s one of the greatest of gospel voices, and this band slow burns, careful to let Shirley deliver.
I initially titled this post More Japanese Group Sounds of the Sixties, but these bands were not Group Sounds bands. Too weird, too individual for that.
You have to think the Mops have heard the Monkees.
Yuya Uchida & The Flowers moved toward the psychedelic and darkness. Uchida was friends with John Lennon.
Boogie on, from the Apryl Fool.
Stumbled on this stuff this morning, via this site.
Not surprising, there was a vibrant Japanese beat music scene in the 1960s, called Group Sounds, which borrowed from the harmonies and sounds of the British Invasion and psychedelica and turned them into something else.
Too soon to curate, too good to wait.
Lind and the Linders
The Toys
The Jacks
