From 2012, a David Lynch musical joint with eyesome singer/artist/model Chrysta Bell that is rather reminiscent of his earlier work with Julee Cruise, etc: Lynchinan, in a word. Directed by Lynch fanboy Chel White (he did the video for Thom Yorke's Harrowdown Hill) as a personal project, Bird of Flames has a strong Blue Velvety vibe with a high creep quotient and lotsa effects.
Imagine a Sex Pistols album that was even rawer, louder, and pissier than the official Never Mind the Bollocks. Well, there was one and it was called Spunk. Spunk was the demo rendition of Bollocks recorded with producer Dave Goodman and original member Glen Matlock.(There seems to be some dispute as to what Matlock's exact role was on Bollocks.)Eventually, the songs would be rerecorded for Bollocks and the rest was history. Spunk would be strategically "leaked" in the UK at the same time of Bollocks's release (October of 1977) – though Malcom McClaren would later deny any involvement it does sound awfully très McLarenian, no? While Bollocks was clearly the slicker (if that's even the right word) and more presentable product, arguments have been made for Spunk's superiority. It does have more of that saliva-in-the-veins essence of the Pistols. (The early version of Anarchy in the UK – then called Nookie – is miles more snarly than the official version.) Some of the songs seemed fatigued (e.g. EMI), some would later be relegated as single b-sides (though, No Fun is a blistering stand out), and of course there's no Holidays in the Sun, one of Bollocks's masterpieces.
Is it better than Bollocks? You decide. YouTube disabled the embedding but you can go here to hear it. (There's also more info on the recording at the link.)
221) Lene Lovich, Lucky Number, Bird Song: Remember New Wave? – a designation often having more to do with hairstyles than music: Generally, it was pop melodies flowering from punk roots – one part 5th Dimension and three parts Ramones – some shallow references to experimental and electronic music, and much attention paid to trendy gear. In that sense, Lene Lovich was totally Wavy, though she brought her own bent to it – the male background voices, and (at the time) untrendy Hammond organ. Her voice was a flexible powerhouse, colorfully tonal and distinctive. She had chops and range (dig her harmonic Uh-ooh-ah-oohs on Lucky Number and the whistle tones in Bird Song), she had the songs, and not the least of which she was a hot redhead. (I crushed on her.) If there was any justice in the world she would've been much bigger than she was. A couple of albums later her sound would focus on digital sounds and programming and her best work would be behind her. Still, it was a good run.
222) Creedence Clearwater, Pendulum: Studebaker famously introduced the Avanti in 1963 as a sleek and aerodynamic alternative to the trend of ponderous chrome hulks that littered the highways at the time. A few years later, Creedence would do the same for rock and roll with their characteristic sinewy and stripped down lead/rhythm guitar sound. Then, after five albums and a smashing worldwide success, John Fogerty eschewed all of that for Pendulum's modestly jazzier Hammond organ and saxophone sound which left many contemporary critics gobsmacked. It wasn't the janglier Creedence of the three minute AM radio single, though the album had a few of those too, but a band with a more mature and nuanced approach that may've been Fogerty's version of Rubber Soul. In any case, surrounding his Soul was a skeletal superstructure of great songs that stand up extremely well despite their hoary age. Though I may be one of the few that thinks so, it remains as one of the band's best.
223) Sparks, Equator: Russell Mael was an absurdly underrated singer. He along with his brother Ron's quirky and vocally athletic songs would take Sparks into territories few others could follow. As an instrument, Russell's voice was amazingly disciplined and supple and no one short of a world class castrato could hope to match his falsetto. Equator's version of cracker-soul-sung-by-a-cartoon-character mashed with drawing room opera as played by The Spiders from Mars – down to Bowie's weekend bar mitzvah band style saxophone – is an inspired experiment. Sparks' lyrics where more often sung for yuks than sweaty intensity but Equator is one of the rare exceptions: A miniature masterpiece.
224) BPeople, You at Eight, The Thing: Not much is googleable about the obscure BPeople – they hailed from Pasadena California, existed ca. 1979 - 1981, and their leader Alex Gibson would go on to a lucrative career in film music supervision. As a band they rendered a kind of garagier David Bowie cum New Wave made all the more with their mixture of Bowiesque saxophone and blunt and chunky guitarisms. Elsewhere (they recorded two albums) they experimented with funkier grooves and artful noise but those joints are, alas, long out of print. One of LA's best bands of the New Wave era.
For those interested, here's a taste: Download: BPeople - The Thing
225) Jefferson Airplane, Milk Train: Entendre jacked up to the near pornographic, a violin hook solid enough to hang bowling balls from, and a four-barrel Grace Slick vocal. I make my case for Milk Train and a download here.
226) Marlena Deitrich, Just a Gigolo: Her voice is the sound of someone who's screwed her way through the limits of her desire and found it wanting. It's a sound as brisk as a Black Forest night and as taut as her cheekbones. The fact that it bleeds Teutonic insouciance all over the place makes it very begehrenswert (sexy, in other words). Dietrich's ambiguousness sexually and otherwise only makes her reading of Gigolo all the more intriguing and the fact that she rendered this version at the age of 77 only makes it all the more amazing: A fräulein looks back and makes no apologies. Gigolo proves that under the best circumstances, presence transcends voice.
227) Ramones, Judy Is a Punk: This was the template and ground zero for endless generic punk to follow. In 1976 this was the album that Creem Magazine and others would go apoplectic over. In retrospect, their crude, raspy walls of Barre-chorded guitar, cardboard-box-in-a-closet drum sound, extreme garage aesthetic, Anglophilia via Forest Hills Queens vocals, and utterly anorexic production values may've been somewhat oversold. Sound-wise, it's the Kingsman dumbed down a few clicks; content-wise, the album practically heaves with pathological violence, self-loathing, destructiveness – even genocide – points all made for joke value. More generally, though, their lyrics are brilliant displays of poetic understatement, exploiting the negative spaces as efficiently as their soundtrack. All told, it's still a powerful motherf**ker of an album and a switchblade thrust to the chest of the lumbering dinosaur that was rock and roll of their time. No subsequent Ramones album ever came close in power to this drossy radioactive nugget.
228) Theoretical Girls, You Got Me: Only slightly more info available on Theoretical Girls than the BPeople: Based in New York, existed from 1977 - 1981 and were leading edge purveyors of No Wave featuring the Grand Guignol guitar assaults of the always interesting Glen Barranca. The two sides of the seven inch of You Got Me represents the entirety of Theoretical Girls recorded output. Their sound has been described as sparse, confrontational, abrasive, and art-punk. Proto-industrial and presaging the chunky guitar style of Gang of 4's Andy Gill and the tortured voicings of Robert Quine and Sonic Youth might be another description. In any event, it's a shame they didn't carry on.
229) The Pixies, Doolittle: One of Kurt Cobain's favorite bands and an important transition from late
70s punk to early 90s alternative, which to my mind simply means punk bending more towards major keys and with many of the cruder edges rounded off. Musically, they were made for college radio unlike, say, the less refined Ramones. Pixies were also multi-polar and a song like Debaser is a perfect example: Starting with a kind of grungy bubblegum riff that's both cotton smooth and hessian coarse and yet airy with space inbetween, Kim Deal's counterbalancing vocals, and without the guitar wall of buzzsaw a la the Ramones. No mere shrieker, singer Black Francis screeches with strategic purpose that gives his often inscrutable lyrics much more substance.
230) Girl Talk: Bobby Troup: television star of the '70s, husband to Julie London, and composer of Route 66 and co-writer of this little gem. The music is by Neal Hefti and it utilizes more chords in two bars than the entirety of the Ramones canon. The lyrics are ridiculously sexist (though I suspect its tongue is somewhat in cheek) and imagines an improbable time when lecherous bosses chased their secretaries around desks. That aside, it's a great melody and nearly every turn in the phrase is accompanied by its own chord (they don't write 'em like that anymore) and only rarely lands on something so mundane as a triad tone.
And Julie's version:
231) Curlew, St. Croix: Not much to be found on these guys either. At various times their ranks included Bill Laswell, Anton Fier, Wayne Horovitz, and Fred Frith and over their history recorded a near buttload of albums. According to their record label website, they were one of the bands that defined The Knitting Factory sound and their classic period (mid-80s to early 90s) pastiche of whammy-barred guitar, sax, cello, and jazzy, angular beats and downtown noise was proof enough.
If you hear a bass line and it's got balls, Carol says it was probably her. If it's a song from the 50s, 60s, or 70s and the bass line jumps out at you, it was probably Carol Kaye. She played on just about everything during the period (10,000 recordings, lots of work for Phil Spector, Brian Wilson, Motown, The Monkees, Ray Charles, Quincy Jones, television and films) and was a part of the legendary Wrecking Crew studio band. Her sense of melody on the bass was impeccable and unparalleled.
She was a true rock star, a freakin' genius, and an encyclopedia of Los Angeles pop recording history.
The vid on top is a trailer snippet of her interview; below is the whole interview if you've got the time.
Recent research on genius says that it begins with desire: You have to love what you're doing more than anyone else. It's not just talent but force of will. Check Mavis Staples here: The oldest one in the room, sung more songs (incl this one) than anyone, and still can't contain her joy when she sings. Everyone in the room is awestruck.
They're British, based in Brighton. On their Bandcamp page their sound is described as rock-doom-grunge-surf-trash. Maybe, though I'd argue they're miles beyond much of what came out of Seattle 20 years ago. The song's called Gravedweller and yours free if you want it.
