Song of the Week – Heavenly Pop Hit, The Chills

by

IGNORED OBSCURED RESTORED

This week we have a guest contributor, Barry Stelboum. He’s had a life-long love affair with music of all kinds and did a stint as a music journalist writing for Spin and other entertainment publications. He is an accomplished photographer and aspiring filmmaker. He is currently the drummer and sometime bass player for the Brooklyn based band called The Occasionalists (with my cousin Mark V.) that specializes in live karaoke performances. When he’s not indulging in his creative outlets, he heads up the Legal Department for a big New York ad agency.

Back in the day, I’d often wander into Sounds, a now sadly departed used record store on St. Marks Place in the East Village. I used to spend hours in the store looking for obscure gems and cheap .99 cent cut-outs on which I’d take chance. One day in 1990, I saw this album featuring a cover with a beautifully eerie photo of a huge jellyfish. The record was called Submarine Bells by a band called The Chills, about whom I knew nothing. There was something about the whole package that made me think that there was going to be something interesting inside. So, I dropped my hard earned $2.99 to see if I’d be right. In short, it was love at first sound.

The album’s opening track is this week’s Song of the Week, “Heavenly Pop Hit.”

The song opens with a splashy organ riff that sounds like it was recorded in an underwater church. Within seconds, drums, guitar, bass and the indescribably unique vocals of Martin Phillips join to create an instantaneously catchy melody that immediately draws you in. You’re hooked before you even get to the impossibly catchy “Dum de dum dum, It’s a heavenly pop hit” chorus, complete with an angelic chorus of male and female voices that elevate the listener to pop music heaven. Like so many of my favorite albums, the overall sound matches the eerie album cover art (Black Sabbath’s Black Sabbath may be the most perfect example of this match), with fluid bass and guitar lines, flowing melodies, and dreamy and otherworldly vocals that somehow feel like that jellyfish floating through the sea.

While it garnered some critical praise and a bit of a minor underground/college following in the US, the album reached #1 on the New Zealand album charts and cemented The Chills status as the godfathers of the New Zealand music scene. Those initial keyboard sounds of “Heavenly Pop Hit” literally opened a whole new music scene for me and, after wearing out the grooves of Submarine Bells, led me to the discovery of countless other great NZ bands, beloved in their homeland, but unknown here, including The Clean, The Verlaines, The Bats, Tall Dwarves and others.

Heavenly indeed.

Enjoy… until next week.

Dead Boys, All This And More

by

One of the thrills of the punk years was the primacy of singles. US bands would launch with a self- or independently pressed 45, looking for enough buzz to get a major label deal. UK bands and labels eased the way into the US market by dropping 45s into the indie record stores, where some people, I was one, would hang out and hear the choicest cuts on the store’s record player.

These singles came, usually, with picture sleeves. Sometimes they came with other gimmicks. I’m sure every punk band wanted a hit single, but most of these weren’t destined for radio play. They were meant as samizdat from the heart of DIY RNR, a beacon looking for similar youths with guitars and loud drums. If you had a single, you had a calling card at least.

One true thing was that there were some great songs released, and another true thing was that many were followed by fairly crappy albums.

The Dead Boys album leads off with their great single, Sonic Reducer, and is followed by a collection that sounded pretty strong in its day. Looking back at it now, what seemed like great energy and clever arrangements then seems today a little obvious and not quite as hard as they should have been. Such is context.

Gene points out, however, that this album should have been on the Rolling Stone Punk Top 40 Albums, and he may be right. It was historic, one of the first true punk albums on the shelves. I’m not sure of that importance as I listen today, but I am nostalgic. See, I actually performed on the album as a musician, of sorts.

The cut is the second track, All This and More. My girlfriend’s sister’s boyfriend, Jim, was an assistant engineer on the album for Genya Ravan at Electric Ladyland. One day we were hanging out there, maybe waiting for him to get off work, when he brought us into the studio. It was the weekend, for sure, it wasn’t someplace we could wander in to usually. But on this day we got headphones and instructions to do the hand claps that lead off All This and More. And we did them and are on the record.

I think. Because I’m assuming our hand claps were good enough. I’m assuming that Genya didn’t get some other young people in to do better hand claps. No way to know that now. In any case they’re good claps. Not as good as the hand claps in the Stooges’ No Fun, but good enough for All This and More, which has one of the great weird first lines in all rock songs.

So, Gene reminded me that I probably performed on a record he thought should be in the Top 40 of Punk albums, even if it’s the elpee that displaces Blink 182.

What a joke.

In other words, we didn’t get any royalties or credit. And I haven’t played the record since before it came out, which I guess is why I forgot about this story. Until now. But there it is. History, perhaps.

 

Rolling Stone’s Top 40 Punk Albums of All Time is Alt Fact!

by

When it comes to pissing matches and irreconcilable pluralism, no one does it better than Rolling Stone magazine.

They decided to make a list of the 40 best punk rock albums of all time. But, they limited each band to one elpee.  While I can see the reason for the limitation, I think having decided upon it, they should have realized that calling it the Top 40 Punk Albums of All Time was a falsehood.

Also, should compilation records qualify? Singles Going Steady was almost contemporaneous, sort of, but the Bikini Kill singles album came out way later. Terminal Tower was kind of Pere Ubu’s Kinks Kronikles, but does that make it chartworthy?

Might not be a bad idea for us to play around with our own Top 10s, with as many elpees from any band as you feel is warranted in, in the comments. Think I’ll invite Dave Marsh to contribute. I’m sure he’s got a Bob Seger record in mind.

So here it is. Sharpen your knives. Have fun.

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/40-greatest-punk-albums-of-all-time-20160406/ramones-ramones-1976-20160406

While reading, listen to this, ponder (and read fast).

 

 

Al Jarreau has died.

by

We like what we like. You get to judge. Here’s my story, and no apologies.

Al Jarreau died yesterday. When I heard the news I immediately thought of Teach Me Tonight. I loved that song.

I don’t know much of Jarreau’s career, which was a good one according to everyone, but what I know is that album that has Teach Me Tonight on it. I have that album in my basement, and if I had an actual record player I think I would play it sometimes.  Or would have.

When I got back to my house today, after the news of Jarreau’s demise, I searched YouTube for Teach Me Tonight, and after listening I wasn’t so sure I should write about it. But that’s crap. I should write about it.

Jarreau’s version of a classic is all crudded up with mature music frou frou, and if I was smarter I would have hated it. But I didn’t. I really liked it as a contemporary soul/jazz sounding version of an old song. It’s good to be soft. I love his voice. It is clear and melodic. I liked it. I have to admit it.

https://youtu.be/hDhkSsTt0VQ

On the other hand, I was also familiar with Dinah Washington’s version.

https://youtu.be/emkqc3PIw8E

This gets it. Enough said.

 

Song of the Week – 66, Afghan Whigs

by

IGNORED OBSCURED RESTORED

Valentine’s Day is just a few days from now so I thought I’d make today’s SotW appropriate for the occasion. I’m not going for some sappy love song. I’m going sensual with Afghan Whigs “66.” It is from their final album 1965 that confusingly was released in 1998.

“66” has a terrific opening line that sets the mood for the song:

You walked in
Just like smoke

The Afghan Whigs hailed from Cincinnati, OH and reached the height of their popularity during the grunge rock period of the 90s. The band was led by Greg Dulli who handled guitar and vocal duties and was also the band’s primary songwriter.

Be sure to put this one on your Valentine playlist.

Enjoy… until next week.

Amuse Bouche: Pop Pandering

by

This little vid is so right on about how I feel about how Spirit in the Sky and that “I got a friend in Jesus” and other crap stuck in a pop song. Hardly spiritual like Beethoven or Eno or Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A Minor which don’t even have lyrics.

But, even more than reflecting Spirit in the Sky, this clip says so how we are as a stupid culture of sheep.

Good Songs, Bad Songs (You Know I’ve Had My Share)

by

My buddy Les Ogilby, who plays a fantastic blues harp–on occasion with the Biletones–and is as much of a music junkie as the rest of us (Les has contributed to the site, in fact) gave me a great disc with a bunch of cool less than widely known tunes, and one of the songs on it was this fantastic cover of Louie Louie by the Flamin’ Groovies (note the drummer has a real Boris Karloff look to him, and the bassist is on a Hofner!).

As I was listening and thinking about how simple this song is, the thought brought me back to Spirit in the Sky, another simple song that was a hit, but that is flat out weak compared to Louie Louie.

One reason we know the superiority is Louie Louie I believe is the most recorded pop tune, while anyone covering Greenbaum has been crucified.

Some of what works are the words, for one thing that drives me nuts about Greenbaum’s song is the “couplet:”

“When I die and they lay me to rest,

I’m gonna go to the place that’s the best.”

To say that is third grade poetry is an insult to eight-year olds everywhere. I mean that second line could have been “I love god it’s in him I invest” or “I’ll sleep with a heavenly crest” or “I’ll be denied because of incest” or something slightly more sophisticated. Not that Louie Louie has complex words, but part of the charm is like a good rock tune, the words are garbled and subject to urban myth and conjecture providing part of the essence of how Aristotle defined what poetry should do: teach and delight.

But, then I was streaming some New Wave stuff and on came a fantastic Johnny Thunders cover of the Shangri Las Give Him a Great Big Kiss, another tune that could easily be so tawdry and awful in the Honey/Teen Angel kind of sense, but somehow the song kills both in the hands of the Shangri Las and Thunders.

Anyway, I am not sure exactly where this is going. For sure I dig both these covers and was looking for an excuse to write about them, but, again, Kiss is such a simple song (two chords for the verse, two more for the chorus) and like Louie Louie it all works so well.

Maybe someone can explain that fine line to me between genius and stupid? I do know Einstein said “the difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits.” True words for these times.

Bad Songs: Neil Young, Man Needs a Maid

by

One of the most sacred elpees in rock history is Neil Young’s Harvest. And I love a lot of it, can sing along to a lot it, though I’ve never owned it.

But even when I was a teen in my friend Judy’s bedroom with a whole gang of kids, listening to this elpee for the first time, it was hard to stomach A Man Needs a Maid.

The sentiment fails, and the grandiose arrangement overcompensates for what? This is Neil Young at his absolute worst.

I’m not sure why Neil decided to tart up the song on the elpee, with all those strings. For me it takes a simple confessional statement, a good melody, and makes it a bit ugly and grandiose.

Here’s a live clip where the basic sexist shit comes across as a man looking closely at his life. He could be wrong, but who can fault him for that. I like that a lot better.

 

Bad Music: “The Bottom Ten”

by

My Frankie Avalon post sparked some responses and ideas, and I thought, “shit, maybe a list of the worst songs ever is kind of fun.” I realize Dave Berry set the precedent, but times change and we all have our likes and dislikes, so I am suggesting we assemble a “Bottom 10.”

That is, if the best ten songs ever are the Top 10, then logically the worst are going to be the Bottom 10 by default, right?

In his response, Steve asked if we did this, if there should be criteria, and while at first I dismissed that to myself, I did reconsider. As in does Macarena belong on the same list as The Last Kiss (J. Frank Wilson, not Pearl Jam) and does that belong on the same list as You Light Up My Life (brilliantly suggested by my wife Diane as I was listing mine) which is just flat out bad?

As in, do cheesey maudlin, wildly stupid and popular in the “pet rock” sense, and fucking awful deserve to be lumped together, or does each own its own genre? And, are there more, I wonder?

My idea is to get some simple parms, and publish lists and maybe even keep a spreadsheet to determine an actual readers worst.

It not only would be fun, but we might see some funny stuff tumble our of our collective.

Thoughts readers? Comment below, or hit me up at lawr@creativesports.com with thoughts under the subject “Remnants Bottom 10.” (Note that this is not new territory for the Renmants, who forged to the awful three years ago.)

And, to show my heart is in the wrong place, I leave you with this: