Keyboard player, and long-time collaborator
with Pat Metheny, Lyle Mays died on February 10th.
Although I never saw the Pat Metheny
Group, of which Mays was a key player, I did see Mays, Metheny, Jaco Pastorius and
Michael Brecker in Providence, RI on August 27, 1979, as members of Joni Mitchell’s
touring band on the Shadows and Light tour.
I bought the first Pat Metheny Group album, As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls, an album that featured songs that were all co-written by Mays and Metheny. The first SotW is “Ozark” from that 1981 album.
I selected this track because it features
Mays unique keyboard style.
In 1985, Mays and Metheny worked with David Bowie to write “This Is Not America” for the soundtrack to The Falcon and the Snowman
That song is based on a Pat Metheny
Group instrumental called “Chris” (also included on the soundtrack) for which
Bowie wrote lyrics. The song reached the
Top 40 on the Billboard charts.
Mays won 11 Grammys and received 23
nominations in his professional career that ended in 2011, when he pivoted to a
career as a software consultant.
Back in 2011, Gotye had a surprise, viral hit with “Somebody That I Used to Know.” In fact, it went on to win a Grammy for Record of the Year.
One
of the features of the song that made it so appealing was the conversational
nature of the lyrics.
He
said:
Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could
die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it’s an ache I still
remember
She
said:
Now and then I think of all the times you
screwed me over
But had me believing it was always something that I’d done
But I don’t wanna live that way
Reading into every word you say
You said that you could let it go
And I wouldn’t catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know
This brought to mind another song that is structured around a dialog between two lovers – “Don’t You Want Me,” by Human League.
He
said:
You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar
When I met you
I picked you out, I shook you up
And turned you around
Turned you into someone new
Now five years later on you’ve got the world at your feet
Success has been so easy for you
But don’t forget it’s me who put you where you are now
And I can put you back down too.
She
said:
I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar
That much is true
But even then I knew I’d find a much better place
Either with or without you
The five years we have had have been such good at times
I still love you
But now I think it’s time I live my life on my own
I guess it’s just what I must do
The more I thought about this format, the more similarly arranged songs came to mind. One of my long time favorites is the Tom Waits/Bette Midler duet, “I Never Talk to Strangers.” This one takes place in a dive bar.
He
said:
Stop me if you’ve heard this one
But I feel as though we’ve met before
Perhaps I am mistaken
She
said:
But it’s just that I remind you of
Someone you used to care about
Oh, but that was long ago
Now tell me, do you really think I’d fall for that old line
I was not born just yesterday
Besides, I never talk to strangers anyway
Another, more obscure track that uses this ploy is “You Don’t Know Me” by Ben Folds and Regina Spektor.
This
one is a little different. Ben carries
the dialog with Regina just making side comments.
He
said (she said):
So, what I’m trying to say is
What (What?)
I’m trying to tell you
It’s not gonna come out like I wanna say it cause I know you’ll only change it.
(Say it.)
You don’t know me at all
(You don’t know me)
You don’t know me at all (at all)
This design was built to last. The most recent song that fits this lyrical device is the late summer 2019 release, “July,” by Noah Cyrus (Miley’s sister) remixed into a duet with Leon Bridges.
She
said:
I’ve been holding my breath
I’ve been counting to ten
Over something you said
I’ve been holding back tears
While you’re throwing back beers
I’m alone in bed
He
said:
Feels like a lifetime
Just tryna get by
While we’re dying inside
I’ve done a lot of things wrong
Loving you being one
But I can’t move on
There
are surely many more songs in this “genre” – “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” (Petty/Nicks)
comes to mind. What can you come up
with?
So
that’s my opposite Valentine! It’s the
best I could do.
I’ve been listening to the Holy Modal Rounders, a band that is known for first using the word psychedelic in a song (!) and then became a big part of the Fugs for a while. So, the Rounders, East Village folkies with political and bluegrass roots, with a yen for spiritual awakening on many levels, and an antic sense of humor. A droll one, too. Also a love for songwriting and old timey music and new timey takes on old timey ways.
Which doesn’t describe Boobs A Lot, a novelty song they wrote for the Fugs. The Fugs version is fun, a call and response thing. The Rounders version came out on their fifth album, Good Taste is Timeless, in 1971. As a college boy in Southern California in the mid 70s I discovered it as a staple on the Dr. Demento radio show on Sunday nights.
What I remembered of the song was its delightful glee, but what I heard tonight was some pretty cool rocking, growing a solid Bo Diddley riff in a pretty clever way. A novelty song, sure, but a fun listen to for the music, too. At the end of the day, a rock song with novelty lyrics.
So, to make this a shaggy dog story, when the Rounders album finished (I was making dinner), I for some reason thought about the Pink Faeries, a band I learned about five years ago. They were British psychedelic rockers from the early 70s, they grew out of a band called the Deviants that I haven’t looked up, but they then made some records that are uniformly excellent. Not because they’re polished, but because whether they’re covering Chuck Berry tunes or offering their originals, they have an inexhaustible drive (two drummers) and weaving guitars (two lead guitars) and the chops to make propulsive memorable rock.
This is rock that managed in its time to bridge the Allman Brothers and the punk scene that was soon to come. Check out my previous posts for Pink Fairies (that was my spelling then) for some choice cuts, but today let’s admire Uncle Harry’s Last Freakout, from 1971 as well, which is a heavy metal tune that morphs into an exemplary jam band tune without apology. Before heavy metal and jam bands were a thing. And back again on this live track from the John Peel show.
For me a big question is how much had Pink Fairies heard the Allman Brothers at this point. The Allmans were first. Part of this song leans heavily toward Morning Dew and Elizabeth Reed. And the double drummers compound the point. None of which is a bad thing, no matter who came first.
This weekend marks the 12th
anniversary of the Song of the Week.
Thank you for all of your encouragement and support over the years.
Andy Gill, guitarist and vocalist for
the post-punk band Gang of Four, died on February 1st, exactly one month
past his 64th birthday.
In his book ranters & crowd
pleasers, rock critic Greil Marcus describes seeing Gill in concert:
“Dressed
blandly in jeans and a shirt buttoned to the neck, with piercing eyes and a
stoic face, he is a performer of unlikely but absolute charisma: his smallest
movements are charged with absurd force.
He holds himself as if he’s seen it all and expects worse. He communicates above all a profound sense of
readiness.”
The music of Gang of Four isn’t for everybody, but I dig it for the same reasons I dig music by Pere Ubu (also not for everyone) – because it is intellectually challenging. So, today’s SotW is for Gill. “It’s Her Factory” was originally released as the B-side of the “At Home He’s a Tourist” single. I first heard it on the Yellow EP (1980) which was a 4 song, vinyl release of outtakes and B-sides. It was later included as a bonus cut on the 1995 CD edition of Entertainment!
“… Factory” is very typical of Gang of
Four. The guitar is as sharp as shards
of broken glass. The melodica is spikey
and dissonant. The lyrics are
confrontational – in this case, a commentary on our patriarchal society.
Items daily press
views to suppress
Subject story on the front page suffering from
suffrage
Title unsung heroine of Britain position to
attain
Housewife heroines addicts to their homes
It’s her factory it’s her duty it’s her factory
Paternalist journalist
He gives them sympathy because they’re not men
Scrubbing floors they’re close to the earth
In a man’s world they’re not men
In a man’s world because they’re not men x4
In a man’s world in a man’s world
A little of a lot keeps them happy
Avoid the answers but keep them snappy
That’s all
Gang of Four never achieved massive
commercial success. Their biggest “hit”
was “I Love a Man in a Uniform” (1982). But
true to their name, their approach to the rock music of the late 70s/early 80s
was like a coup d’état and had a profound influence on many of
today’s indie rock bands.
Steve Moyer named Rock Remnants. Our talks were beer besotted nights, but our confluence was Rock Remnants.
The band Steve was in, Follow Fashion Monkeys, were huge in their local Lehigh Valley environment, and are gradually emerging as the history of Lehigh Valley hardcore emerges.
This band pushed their way to attention and success with rigorous playing and intelligence and that ineffable something more than striking songwriting, incisive propulsive guitar, and a killer rhythm section, something Andy Gill’s obits are calling genius. I might say talent, but whatever. This is their first single.
Today’s SotW was written by guest
contributor, Michael Paquette. Michael
and I have known each other for over 40 years.
Our friendship has been based, in large part, over our mutual love of
music. When he was in college at
Brandeis University, he had a radio show called Excuse Me While I Play The
Blues that incorporated music by some of the great artists that inhabited the
Austin music scene he experienced and enjoyed when he lived there in the late
seventies. He still finds the time to go to shows and favors folk
and Americana. That will be clear when
you read his post.
David Olney was a Nashville singer-songwriter
for nearly five decades. He passed away on January 18th while
on stage in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida. He was a giant among the musicians
in the Nashville scene. “As soon as he moved
into a room, he had a charisma that I would liken to Johnny Cash and Kris
Kristofferson. Oh, Olney’s here,” said musician/journalist Peter Cooper. He was
admired by the brilliant songwriter Townes Van Zandt. Even the Rolling Stones were compelled to attend
one of his shows. His songs were covered by many renowned artists including
Linda Ronstadt, Steve Earle, Del McCoury, and Slaid Cleaves.
Olney’s songs always make you feel something — sorrow, nostalgia or just the need to smile. This song, “Deeper Well,” that was covered by Emmylou Harris on her transcendent 1995 release Wrecking Ball, is a dark and dirge-like composition performed here with Blair Hogan.
The “deeper well” in this song appears as
the young man who seeks love in a deep, dark place. It could also be a
metaphor for making a deal with Satan in exchange for the inspiration for his
music, much like Robert Johnson’s “Me and the Devil Blues.”
Well, I did it for
kicks and I did it for faith
I did it for lust and I did it for hate
I did it for need and I did it for love
Addiction stayed on tight like a glove
So I ran with the moon and I ran with the night
And the three of us were a terrible sight
Nipple to the bottle, to the gun, to the cell
To the bottom of a hole of a deeper well
On the night he died, Olney was performing
on stage with Amy Rigby. She wrote on
her Facebook page that “he stopped, apologized and shut his eyes. He was very
still, sitting upright with his guitar on, wearing the coolest hat and a
beautiful rust suede jacket…” But he
wasn’t sleeping. An attempt was made to revive him, but he just drifted
off. Olney was 71. A gentle and well-loved
soul, the world has lost a great one whose music still inspires.
Read a bit about them in the upcoming shows list, and played their 2019 record. Good stuff. I won’t say this is the best, but it captures what they’re doing, a rock-soul mix that’s pretty irresistible because, songs are good.
Today’s SotW is the next installment of the Evolution Series. Let’s start with the most popular version of the garage classic, “A Little Bit O Soul” by the Music Explosion.
The Music Explosion was a band out of Mansfield,
Ohio. In 1967 they left Ohio for New
York to work with the Kasenetz-Katz production team that became the leading
purveyors of “bubblegum music” with groups like The Ohio Express (“Yummy, Yummy”),
1910 Fruitgum Company (“Simon Says”, “1-2-3 Red Light”, “Indian Giver”) and
Crazy Elephant (“Gimme Gimme Good Lovin’”).
The Music Explosion’s recording of “A
Little Bit O Soul” reached #2 in 1967. I
loved it as an 11-year-old and still love it now.
But most have never heard the original by The Little Darlings, from Coventry England.
It was written for them by Ken Lewis and
John Carter in 1965. These British
songwriters also penned Herman’s Hermits’ “Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat” (another
favorite of mine), and they sang back up on The Who’s “I Can’t Explain” as The
Ivy League!
The Little Darlings’ version of “Little
Bit O Soul” is rougher and dirtier than the Music Explosions’. It is the type of “nugget” that would later
influence the early punk rockers.
So it’s no surprise that The Ramones latched onto it and laid down their own version on 1983’s Subterranean Jungle.
Now when your girl is gone and you’re broke in two You need a little bit o’ soul to see you through And when you raise the roof with your rock ‘n’ roll You’ll get a lot more kicks with a little bit o’ soul
When Fiona Apple sings “I’ve been a bad,
bad girl,” I believe her. The opening
line from her 1997 hit, “Criminal”, is chilling. Then she goes on…
I’ve been careless with a delicate man
And it’s a sad, sad world
When a girl will break a boy
Just because she can
That’s downright scary!!! As is the chorus:
What I need is a good defense
Cause I’m feelin’ like a criminal
And I need to be redeemed
To the one I’ve sinned against
Because he’s all I ever knew of love
The song’s wicked sexy lyrics have a
wicked sexy musical vibe to go with it. (The
controversial, official video is pretty sexy too.) The opening bass groove sounds like a carnival
version of Albert King’s blues classic “Born Under a Bad Sign.”
The jazzy romp builds to a lyrical climax,
then continues for almost 2 more minutes with an Egyptian motif on organ and
some dissonant chords banged out on the piano.
A very cool way to bring it all back down.
“Criminal” won a Grammy in 1998 for Best
Female Rock Vocal Performance.
Last year Apple announced she would donate
the royalties she earns from “Criminal” to While
They Wait, a social service agency that helps immigrants and refugees
applying for asylum or other legal relief.
