DAY 431.
The B-52's................................................................................The B-52's   (1979)












Never new much about the B52s apart from "Rock Lobster & "Love Shack," I remember that I used to make a right James Blunt of myself copying the dance they done on "Rock Lobster," but then again most people have tried it at some point............haven't they?


I really enjoyed this one, not your common or garden album, very much a quirky and very individual style that makes this a hard choice for me, on the second hearing I must admit I'm warming more to it, but could this be the gorgeous sirenesque enchantresses ( Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson) drawing me in?


The only track I didn't take to was the cover "Downtown" maybe too used to hearing Petula Clark sing it, and apart from "Rock Lobster" the stand out and probably my favourite track was extremely catchy "6060-842"


Anyways I'm 90% sure I'll buy this but not at this juncture, I would love to have that album cover in my vinyl collection it's an absolute beaut, if money was no object I'd be buying it tonight, but unfortunately needs must so this album wont be going into my collection (just yet.)





Bits & Bobs





When bands get mega hits their back catalogue immediately falls under one of two categories. Either it seems to be critically reappraised and lauded over for the first time like it was brand new music in and of itself, or, sometimes the more tragic occurrence happens whereby it seems to be forgotten, lost in a new torrent of music which engulfs it and overcomes it. While of course, some bands that have hits don't have previous albums, some just have appalling albums hidden away in their past.




In many ways both could be said for the B-52's, a band that will be forever known for their huge hit single in 1989, Love Shack. And yeah, it is a great song, off an even greater album, but it is to all intents and purposes a very late single for the B-52's, their debut album being released ten years prior to Love Shack.




In many ways, 1979 was crying out for a band like the B-52's. Smart, punchy punk music you could dance to, with a bizarre and warped sense of humour thrown in for good measure. The post-punk movement of the time the other side of the Atlantic was more of a dour and heavier scene, and the arrival of the B-52's, possessing their credentials would have fared well even if their music and songs weren't simply as catchy and memorable as they are.




And they really are, every track on this album is a memorable one, with only Cyndi Lauper's 'She's So Unusual' being on par for sheer fun and dance-ability. The album kicks off with the whacked out sci-fi epic Planet Claire, a song about an alien living on Earth by the name of Claire. Lead singer Fred Schneider describes in detail her home planet, where the bizarre aliens somehow manage to have 'pink hair', yet 'no-one has a head'. Hilarious lyrics that don't take themselves seriously and really fantastically deliberate sci-fi sounds which lend themselves more to hilariously camp T.V. shows from the 60's and B-Movies from that generation make this track an immediate standout.




Next is 52 Girls and Dance This Mess Around, both tracks which focus heavily on Keith Strickland's pummeling yet never overpowering punchy new-wave drumming. The former is a song about girls of all sorts, presumably beautiful (of which only 25 girls are named), set to one of the most ridiculous and camp new-wave tracks ever, the latter is a similar affair which deals exclusively with juggling around the need to know every kind of dance there is to stay cool, however ridiculously named they are; "do the hipp-o-crite, do the shy tuna, do the camel walk".




Next is Rock Lobster, a song which for me will always have the wonderful claim (along with Bird is the Word by the Trashmen) of rising above Family Guy's idiotic need to make a fad of it. The song is what it is, a ridiculous ditty about the band taking a trip to the beach, only to find a rock that looks like a lobster. The song sounds so stupid when laid out this way, but it truly is the sum of it's parts, a glorious camp vocal from Schneider struts around a rock'n'roll riff, with Strickland's trademark restraint providing the rhythm for the track, with wonderfully stupid and deliberately dorky backing vocals that serve to make the incident seem like something out of Little Shop of Horrors. The song is a perfect one to sum up the B-52's, catchy, camp, ridiculous throughout, but seeming to be deadly serious, it sets the bar high for the album, which the band happily answer the call to.




Lava, There's a Moon in the Sky and Hero Worship are the album's sturdy backbone, strong new-wave flavours and upbeat twangy guitar combine with more wonderful female vocals to provide a cheesey B-Movie soundtrack, that instead of being unremarkable, manages to somehow transcend the culture that spawned it. The B-52's are fun, whacky, but they really do make some amazing songs. Lava is a groovy ode to how funky a lava erruption could (but probably wouldn't) be, There's a Moon is a song presumably about how an idiot or a child has suddenly discovered the moon, named it a moon, and found out it's already called the moon, while Hero Worship is perhaps the weakest track on the album, it does have a more relaxed funkier feel, which serves solely to let off some steam from the fairly quickened pace of the album




The last two tracks, 6060-842 and Downtown round up the album in the way that has been maintained throughout, fun, enjoyable, and really well executed. 6060-842 is a track about lead singer Fred Schneider finding a phone number in a toilet advertising a 'very nice time - give this number a call' and ringing it, all to be extremely downhearted to find that 'get no, answer at all', all of which culminates in poor Fred's number getting disconnected - DANG. Downtown is a cover, which the B-52's seem bizarrely to make their own, instead of it being the ultimate good time tune, the band somehow manage to turn the ode to boozing and women into some kind of jerky call to arms for everyone who might not be as cool as the mainstream think they are.




The B-52's first album works on so many levels, but none more than it's multi-layered nature. It rewards a listener on first listen simply by being so catchy, fun and infectiously for all of it's 39 minutes. But for repeated listeners it begins to unravel into a hugely complex tapestry which just about manages to poke fun at every aspect of American culture, from it's obsession to beaches, international policy, obsession with aliens and the unknown, and the popular culture heroes it spawns. It may seem fickle and one dimensional at times but the B-52's have deliberately crafted an album based around all of their collective experiences being tied up in the middle of America, it is in itself one of the most truly inventive and 'American' albums ever, insofar as that it manages to combine every bit of culture the world has to offer, and trim it down into an easily digestible and fun concept that any and everyone can enjoy at any time. And they're waiting for you.


Kate Pierson told Q magazine that it was Keith Strickland who came up with the band's name. She explained: "Keith thought of the name. He had a dream, like a vision of a little lounge band and they all played organs and had bouffant hairdos, and someone said, Look, it's the B-52s. B-52 was slang for a nosecone-shaped hairdo, named after the bomber. We thought, This is a great name: It's a number and a letter, it's really different and snappy. But now there's this plan to prolong the life of the B-52 bomber, and we're lending our name to a campaign to stop it."


 
In 1985, Ricky Wilson (Cindy's brother) became one of the first prominent entertainers to die of AIDS. The band was devastated, and didn't work together until 1987, at which point they got back together to write songs and jam. The long grieving process helped them move forward with upbeat material, resulting in Cosmic Thing, their most successful album. They never replaced Wilson; their drummer Keith Strickland switched to guitar, and touring musicians were used for live shows.


 
Until 2008, their band name was rendered "B-52's". The apostrophe shouldn't be there, as it's not a possessive, but when a friend designed the logo, it was included in the design and incorporated into their name. This grammar foul was corrected with the release of their Funplex album.


 
They didn't use a bass guitar (played by Sara Lee of Gang of Four) until their 1989 album Cosmic Thing. But wait, you say. What about "Rock Lobster"? That famous bass riff came from a Korg synthesizer.


 
Cindy Wilson is the only member who is not a vegetarian.


 
The band is from Athens, Georgia, where R.E.M., The Black Crowes and Drive-By Truckers also formed.


 
There is no real leader of the group, and since every member was there from the start, they are all on equal footing. Ricky Wilson was their main songwriter and handled most of the logistics.


 
Pierson began a long-term relationship with the artist Tim Rollins in 1981. In 2003, she began dating Monica Coleman; in 2015, the couple were married.



When most people think about early punk bands, they do not think of the B-52s. But before the band made such floor-fillers as Love Shack" and "Roam," and before Kate Pierson joined REM to sing about "Shiny Happy People," the B-52s were playing at CBGBs and churning out garagey tunes such as "Rock Lobster," "52 Girls," and "Hot Lava," mixing stream-of-consciousness lyrics with elements of early punk and new wave. This is a band that as the "Advocate" put it--manages to be "singular, specifically American, and downright homo."


In 1987, the band did a public service announcement AMFAR (The Foundation For AIDS Research), recreating the Sgt. Pepper album cover so that the flowers spelled out the word "Believe" (as in "believe you can make a difference").Allen Ginsberg and Quentin Crisp are in the crowd of people standing behind the band.


When Kate Pierson is not on tour, she and her partner Monica Coleman run Kate's Lazy Meadow Motel in the Catskills, which features "rustic cabins" filled with "mind-blowing mid-century modern/space age/rocket-your-socks-off décor." When Kate first saw Lazy Meadow, she "flipped her wig."


While working out the song "Love Shack", the band abruptly stopped playing, catching Cindy by surprise. She belted out, "TIN ROOF!" over the sudden silence and then, realizing that no one was playing anymore, finished with, "rusted."




"Rock Lobster"


Many B-52s songs have fun, whimsical lyrics, and this is one of them. It's about a beach party where someone encounters a rock lobster (which is also known as a crayfish, but that wouldn't sound as good), and hi jinx ensue.


 
The B-52s Fred Schneider stopped eating crustaceans at the age of four after going crabbing with family in New Jersey and watching them being boiled alive. He explained in a video he narrated for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals that he got the idea for this song when he was at an Atlanta disco called 2001 where a projector displayed images of lobsters on a grill. He thought, "Rock this, rock that... rock lobster!" The band jammed on the title and "Rock Lobster" was created.


 
Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson's fish noises on this song are an homage to Yoko Ono, whose work is filled with these kind of screams and blurts. Yoko performed these parts when she joined the band at their 25th Anniversary concert at Irving Plaza in New York City on February 04, 2002.


 
The Yoko Ono influence on this song was clear to John Lennon, who heard it playing in a Bermuda disco in 1979. It reminded him of Yoko Ono's music so much that it inspired him to return to the recording studio after a five-year retirement. The B52s guitarist Keith Strickland recalled to Q magazine that at the end of the song, "Cindy does this scream that was inspired by Yoko Ono. John heard it in some club in the Bahamas, and the story goes that he calls up Yoko and says, Get the axe out – they're ready for us again! Yoko has said that she and John were listening to us in the weeks before he died."




Yoko confirmed the story when she recalled: "Listening to the B-52s, John said he realized that my time had come. So he could record an album by making me an equal partner and we won't get flack like we used to up to then."


 
This was the first single the B-52s released. They recorded it on a shoestring budget at Mountain Studios in Atlanta in February 1978, and released the track as a single on DB Records in April. Danny Beard, who owned the label, recalls spending about $700 on the single in a session where a key on Pierson's Farfisa organ didn't work. The recording was rough but effective: it earned airplay and established the band as quirky, innovative, thrift-store punk rockers with pop appeal. Warner Bros. Records signed them and had them record a full album, complete with a new version of "Rock Lobster," in Nassau, Bahamas with producer Chris Blackwell. The album was issued in 1979 along with the single, which reached its US chart peak of #56 in May 1980. In the UK, where the band initially had a stronger following, it reached #37 in August 1979. When the song was re-issued in the UK in 1986, it reached #12.


 
The song has a vintage feel thanks to the Farfisa organ played by Kate Pierson and the surf guitar sound Ricky Wilson created, both throwbacks to '60s music.




Fred Schneider and B-52s guitarist Ricky Wilson were listed as the writers on this track, but at some point the other three band members - Kate Pierson, Cindy Wilson and Keith Strickland - were added to the credits.




In 1985, Wilson became one of the first celebrities to die from AIDS-related causes. He was 32.


 
This song has one of the most famous bass lines of all time, but it wasn't done with a bass guitar. Guitarist Ricky Wilson came up with the riff, and Kate Pierson played it on Korg SB-100 Synthe-Bass, a little machine with a big sound that can also be heard on early Soft Cell recordings, including "Tainted Love."



The original 1978 version runs 4:37; the album version released in 1979 goes 6:49, with the single edited down to 4:52.




Fred Schneider mentions several unusual sea creatures near the end of the song, including a narwhal, which is a rarely seen whale-like creature with a horn that makes it look like some kind of aquatic unicorn (one shows up in cartoon form in the movie Elf). The the best of our knowledge, "Rock Lobster" is the only Hot 100 hit where a narwhal shows up in the lyric.


Other creatures mentioned: sting ray, manta ray, jellyfish, dogfish, catfish, sea robin, piranha, bikini whale. As Schneider sings, Wilson and Pierson approximate their calls with some impressive vocalizations.




Speaking with the Toronto radio station Boom 97.3, Fred Schneider explained how the song came together: "We jammed on it for hours and hours and miles and miles of reel-to-reel tape. Keith and Ricky went and spliced ideas together, brought them to Kate, Cindy and I, and we put in our six cents and we came up with this six minute and forty-eight second song. We have a hard time editing ourselves, but who cares?"

"We always just did things our own way," he continued. "You don't have any preconceived notions. I was writing lyrics with Keith on the way into the studio, but then I changed my lines and stuff and then the girls added their noises at the end."




This reached #1 on the Canadian charts in 1980, following Blondie's "Call Me" and preceding The Pretenders' "Brass In Pocket." It held the pole position for one week.




This is one of the great cowbell songs; drummer Keith Strickland is credited with playing it on the recording, but when performed live, Fred Schneider would play it.




A video was made for this song in 1979, combining stock footage with various band antics. MTV was still two years away, but the video helped promote the song throughout Europe. The group got their star turn on MTV a decade later, when "Love Shack" became one of the most popular clips on the network.




The song appeared in the movies One-Trick Pony (1980), Lobster Man from Mars (1989) and Knocked Up (2007); it was used in episodes of My Name Is Earl ("Joy in a Bubble" - 2008) and Glee ("The Hurt Locker: Part 1" - 2015).


The song is also a favorite on the show Family Guy, where the character Peter Griffin performs it on guitar in two episodes, first in a 2005 episode where he plays it (inappropriately) to cheer up Cleveland, then in a 2011 episode where it plays to a lobster with the lyrics changed to "Iraq Lobster."




Ricky Wilson didn't have high expectations for the riff when he came up with it. His sister Cindy Wilson told the CBC: "I came home one day, and Ricky was just working on his guitar, and he was just laughing to himself. He says, 'I just made up the stupidest riff there ever was.'"



  

DAY 432.
Holger Czukay.....................................Movies   (1979)











To say this is an odd album to be in this book, is an understatement in my humbles, it opens up with "Cool in the Pool" and what sounds like a drunk George Chisholm, but to be fair it turns into a pretty catchy number, the next track "Oh Lord, Give Us More Money" is 13 minutes of unadulterated nonsense, a mishmash of various clips and noises, the third track "Persian Love," like the first wasn't too bad, but really kept planting the goons into my head,which was pretty hard to shake, and finally the coup de grace, "Hollywood Symphony" this confirmed my initial thoughts about this chancer, 15 minutes of complete and utter fuckwittery, I think he thought he'd have to finish off with something special so he slung everything into it, I'm sure I even hear a bit of Rolf Harris's wobble board in there, but it just sounded awful, and 15 minutes I wouldn't want to waste listening to again.


As you may well have deciphered by now, this shite wont be going into my collection, and from this day forth never spoken of again.




Bits & Bobs;

Movies was Holger Czukay's second album. Coming out in 1979, it was his first after leaving Can. At the time the NME put it at number 5 in their Albums Of The Year list. In 1985 Sounds put it in their All Time Top 100 Albums list (at 98). It also features Can's awesome drummer, Jaki Liebezeit, throughout and Michael Karoli and Irmin Schmidt on Oh Lord, Give Us More Money (late period Can member, Rebop Kwaku Baah, also appears on Cool In The Pool). Holger Czukay, like Kim Deal, is one of the great re-inventors of bass playing - snatching it back from the show-offs and making it cool again. Unfortunately, I don't think that this album's very good.


 Cool In The Pool ('Let's get hot on the dancing spot, then let's get cool in the pool') starts off promisingly with a nice, Avant-Funk guitar riff. But almost immediately there is an overabundance of ideas. Proggy horns, samples/tape loops and little stabs of every conceivable instrument come and go. Holger Czukay's singing is reminiscent of something quirky from the Canterbury Scene. The song and sound overall are quite close to the New York Avant-Garde/Prog/Disco/Punk sound (Talking Heads/Eno/Fred Frith/Arthur Russel/Bill Laswell). Which is all great, but it's a bit silly. Every single idea is indulged, no matter how daft. I must admit to be being fairly humourless when it comes to music. I don't like 'wacky' or 'quirky', and I don't like jokey lyrics. The 13 minute Oh Lord, Give Us More Money is, for the most part, better. It features lots of lead guitar from Can's Michael Karoli with Holger Czukay's bass weaving around it. Occasionally you can also hear some classic Jaki Liebezeit shuffles in the background but there are just too many samples and tape loops drowing him out. As a whole, it's a bit unfocussed. Persian Love is built around a light, reggae rhythm track and a snippet of what I'm presuming is Persian music. There's a lot of noodling on this song - noodling keyboards, sounding like Joe Meek's I Hear A New World; and noodling guitar, played very high up the neck. The final track, Hollywood Symphony, is a 15 minute test of endurance. Again, it's very noodly and a little confused. The volume levels are distracting. Snatches of keyboard or guitar often burst in, drowning everything else out.



 When done well (John Cale's organ on Sister Ray) this can be one of the greatest things on Earth, but that's not the case here. Underneath it all, there is some great bass playing from Czukay and, after 8 minutes, it does start to pick up and becomes quite an odd Prog/Funk tune for a few minutes. But then the loud, annoying keyboards come back. This reissue also comes with a bonus version of Cool In The Pool where most (not all) of the vocals have been removed. This improves it immeasurably but it also does highlight some of the more 'playful' choices of instrumentation - really weird brass, Jerry Garcia-like lead guitar. I have the feeling that underneath it all there is a brilliant drums, bass and rhythm guitar track that has been buried by an over-active imagination.


 Holger Czukay is undoubtedly both a great man and a very important figure in music. And Movies features some great players and a few great performances. But it's not a great album. There's too much fiddling and too many ideas, a lot of which would be executed more successfully by Brian Eno and David Byrne on My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts.




Julian Cope's take on "Movies" and the track "Persian Love" (I think you like him Pat?)




At present, 1979's 'Movies' is currently deleted, which is probably as well since it suffers from the same dodgy mastering qualities that the Can-back-catalogue suffered from when intially transferred to CD for the first time. The Can back-catalogue has all been lovingly remastered and reissued, an article last year in Mojo had a piece on 'Movies' by John Foxx, who recalled Czukay making it in Conny Plank's studio where Ultravox (without the '!' by this stage) were recording 'Systems of Romance.' The four-track LP featuring 'Cool in the Pool', 'Oh Lord Give Us More Money', 'Persian Love', and 'Hollywood Symphony' was a key release of the era and hugely influential. 'Cool in the Pool' and 'Persian Love' would feature on the 'Cannibalism No 3' compilation of Can-solo works, while 'Cool...' would also find its place on the soundtrack to 'Morvern Callar', alongside Can's 'I Want More' , Hazelwood & Sinatra's 'Some Velvet Morning', and Stereolab's 'Blue Milk' (the author of 'Morvern Callar' Alan Warner has dedicated each of his books to Can-members, while the compilations Morvern listens to in the book are Can and Czukay heavy, alongside stuff like Lee'Scratch'Perry, Magazine, PM Dawn, Miles Davis and Cocteau Twins).



'Movies' is currently going at a silly price on Amazon & E-Bay, even in its dodgy cd version - so I made do with the 'Cannibalism No. 3' compilation in the meantime - which is a but hit and miss, the best material being the tracks from Czukay's 'Movies' and 'On the Way to the Peak of Normal' (1981). 'Persian Love' is the track that stands out and typifies the new approach, released as a single here and there, it's the song to focus on, and reason alone to buy the reissue of 'Movies' when it comes out (Czukay opted to reissue later solo material first, which I'm not too sure about, going on 'Rite Time' - though I did like the two albums Czukay recorded with David Sylvian, 'Flux & Mutability' and 'Plight & Premonition', as well as 'Full Circle' - reviewed elsewhere on Unsung).




'Persian Love' (6:22)


composed, recorded, mixed, edited, and produced by Holger Czukay, advised by Conny Plank.

Holger Czukay - guitar, keyboards, synthesiser, short waves, bass, french horn
Jaki Liebezeit - drums, congas

recorded at CAN-studio, mixed at Conny's studio, edited at Holger's LAB.




Both sampling and world music had existed prior to 'Persian Love', an early example of the former being found on Lee 'Scratch' Perry's 'Dub-Triptych', which found Perry sampling the 'Doctor'-movies and 'Kojak', while Gavin Bryar's 1975-piece 'Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet' looped a field-sample of a tramp singing around a classical piece featuring Michael Nyman and produced by Brian Eno. & world music, as it later became tagged, was appearing in all sorts of places, from the 'Brian Jones Presents...' album focusing on Morocco, to Fela Kuti, to Os Mutantes - as well as elements surfacing in Can's material from 'Soon Over Babaluma' onwards. Czukay left Can in 1979, though still worked with members, notably Jaki Liebezeit who would play on many of his records.




In Can, Czukay had often spliced and edited the tapes etc down from the improvisational jams that created the tracks we know on Can albums - a key example probably being 1971's 'Halleluwah', which takes a seemingly simple funk-based track into a myriad of directions. Czukay advanced this editing technique with the material that became 'Movies', choosing to sample from the radio and movies on the TV, and splice together with rhythms etc. Eno was present and noted this technique, clearly experimenting on parts of Bowie's 'Lodger' ('Yassassin') and the opening and closing tracks from Talking Heads' 'Fear of Music' ('I Zimbra' for the world music elements/'Drugs' for the sampling) - the two coming together on the celebrated 'My Life in the Bush of Ghosts.' & to be fair, other acts were getting to similar climes - Cabaret Voltaire employing a similar approach to samples as 'My Life...' on 1979's 'Voice of America', prior to tracks distinctly more world like 'Yashar.' The Slits' hit upon these tribal rhythms, as 23 Skidoo and This Heat went in similar directions, and a post-PIL Jah Wobble became obssessed with what he termed "Kebab-House music." And maybe 'Persian Love' was key in all that? I guess that a track like 'Program' by Silver Apples is key - radio samples and a motorik rhythm, though the hippy singing and lyrics isn't present..




'Persian Love' is one of those addictive songs that I can play over and over, despite the fact it isn't really a song, and I am not fluent in the sampled languages. But somehow that doesn't matter and it all makes some sense. The guitar on it sounds joyous and very much like 'Foolish Harp/Waeerera' by The Bhundu Boys, a song collected on the great Uncut-free cd 'John Peel's Festive 15' and also used on trailers for films on the Tartan arthouse range of VHS tapes in the 1990s. 'Persian Love' probably making space for the Bhundu Boys, Paul Simon's 'Graceland', David Byrne's world label, albums like 'Naked' and 'Rei Momo', the soundtrack to 'The Catherine Wheel', Sylvian and Wobble's work wit Czukay, and 'Across the River' by Peter Gabriel et al. Alongside 'Yashar', 'My Life in the Bush of Ghosts' and 'Power Spot', it demonstrated new directions - as well as predicting the type of sampledelic approach which would be used later on by acts such as The Beastie Boys, De La Soul, DJ Shadow and Public Enemy - though Czukay's alien sources are much more interesting, and probably have more in common with Richie Hawtin's mix album from 2000 - weaving together the unfamiliar. I'm sure that 'Persian Love' was used as a model for the world/futurist parts of the soundtrack to 'Blade Runner' too.




Tape manipulation an proto-sampling have never created a more addictive track - 'Persian Love' is one of the few tracks that I can happily play over and over on repeat, joining songs like the alt-version of 'Flamenco Sketches', Scritti Politti's 'The Sweetest Girl', 'Children Crying' by The Congos, 'Little Johnny Jewel' by Television, 'Evening of Light' by Nico, 'By This River' by Eno/Roedelius (...and so on...) The list is long, but not that long really - 'Persian Love' one of those songs I could listen to anytime. I wonder if there's much else like it, I'm generally scared of world music due to the demograph and generic obedience and stuff like Womad...Any suggestions welcome.




I am very pro the whole post-punk era, there were a lot of great acts and records, though the notion of celebrating the bleak works of bands like Joy Division is an odd one. It wasn't all that gothic gloom, maybe part of that approach was a dead end and Sumner and co would have cheered up even if Curtis had stuck around? 'Persian Love' shows "an index of possibilities" as Czukay rapped on Sylvian's 'Backwaters' a few years later (Sylvian samples a persian love song at the start of 1987's 'Maria'). Non-European guitars feature. Alien Samples. & the mindblowing drums and percussion of Liebezeit - the way his live-playing is used and fused is mindblowing stuff, even if people can achieve much the same by pro-tools these days. 'Persian Love' was probably one of the most important tracks of the era, a song that made me re-write the godawful desert island disc-list. To be stranded with this?...it would be a pleasure. As Alan Warner said, "It is 6:22 of what beauty and life's joy there is to extract..."
 

PatReilly wrote:

Julian Cope has spent much of his life and money on acid and various derivatives, I like his music but ignore his opinions.

Movies is just noise to me, a good distance worse than the recently reviewed Eno airport album.

I seen Julian Cope and thought you might like it,,,,,,,,och well!


It's funny how we can really love a singer/band, but can't abide them off stage as such, there's a right few on here I feel that way about.
 

DAY 433.
Police.............................Reggatta De Blanc   (1979)











Got a nice surprise listening to this one for the first time in god knows how many years, you see nowadays when I hear their old singles getting played, I'm caught between good memories of classic songs, but also with that "for fucks sake not again" feeling of something that's been played to death (ken like that 1966 thingymabob.) At this juncture I must add apart from "Roxanne," which fir me at least will always be a classic, I've also got that thing like Pat said about Julian Cope, I liked The Police but can't go that knobend Sting.


So anyways back to the album, even when this was released I kinda liked the non-single tracks way better, the title track for starters was far more appealing to me than "Walking On The Moon" as were "Bring On The Night" and the "Pump It Up" esque "It's Alright For You," to be honest I'd probably pick any of the tracks over the two tracks that were singles.


So is this album worth the entrance fee? In short yes, even though it could be classed very much of it's time, it's a time that still holds great memories for me, and some of these tracks are very much part of them, so this album will be going into my collection.



Just a question for anyone out there who is knowledgeable in all things guitary, a guy I new years ago was learning guitar, and he told me his guitar teacher told him to try and listen to The Police and play along with their music, I was just wondering if anyone can tell me the reasoning behind this, it must have worked because he ended up pretty good by all accounts, it's funny how music can take you back and jog your memory, I've never seen or thought about that boy in years.





Bits & Bobs;



The group originally broke through at the same time that punk was shaking up the music scene in the late 70's. Each member came from a different musical background: Summers played with The Animals, Soft Machine and Kevin Ayers, Copeland was a member of Curved Air and had a brief solo career as Klark Kent, while Sting had played in various jazz fusion groups. The band manifested an understated virtuosity, applying their chops within reggae grooves and intricate arrangements. Between Summers' trenchant and groundbreaking guitar work, Copeland's deceptively complex polyrhythms and Sting's loping bass and soaring vocals, The Police were indisputably the most adventurous ambassadors of the genre then known as new wave.




Say what you will about Sting's highly suspect island inflections and the Police's unflinching wholesale appropriation of another culture's art form. It takes huge pale cojones to be that band and name your sophomore album "White Reggae." "Reggatta de Blanc" is a faux-French translation of that very phrase.


The singles from “Outlandos d’ Amour” were pretty successful instantly, giving “The Police” a commercial success that many of their more respected and critically acclaimed compatriots struggled to obtain or sustain.


 In contrast, “The Police” continued to have more and more commercial success while becoming more and more experimental and textural. A strange contrast perhaps and more of the more interesting success stories of the “New Wave” period. Of course, some argue that their last and most successful “Synchronicity” was a total bland sell-out while others claim it was their best, most experimental album.


 All of this build up has a point, I promise. Basically, there are two ways to look at this band: as a complete sell-out band that jumped from a once-promising punk/reggae band into an ego-vehicle for Sting’s pop pretensions and desire for money. Or you can look at them as a cutting edge band that successfully blended light experimental and texture tendencies with a rock and pop sensibility.


 1979’s “Reggatta de Blanc” is the first warning sign that this band was not going to be “just” a punk or reggae band. While there are perhaps a few instances of punk speed and reggae styling (especially the Sting-Copeland co-write “It’s All Right for You” and the hard hitting “No Time This Time”) the band expands their sound to include a more atmospheric sound.


 The best example of this is the classic, immortal “Walking On the Moon.” In spite of a few of Sting’s worst lyrical gaffes (the first lines “Giant steps are what you take/walking on the moon/I hope my legs don’t break/walking on the moon” are grammatically and logically erroneous) the song creates a unique atmosphere that hadn’t really been heard in the world of rock.


 The basic set-up for the song is a simple but memorable Sting bass line which creates the melodic hook. Copeland plays some of the most interesting and intelligent atmospheric drumming I’ve ever heard: his work on the high-high defies description.


 And who can’t forget Summers echoey, reverbed “BAM!” guitar chord? An instant atmosphere of moon walking. During the verse, Summers plays a more reggae based rhythm but it doesn’t detract from a song that matches the lyrical message of escapism.


 Perhaps the most famous song on the album is “Message in a Bottle” one of the band’s main calling cards and a huge hit. It can be easy to dismiss the silly lyrics here (“seems I’m not alone in being alone” is almost good, though) but what can’t be denied are the constant barrage of great musical ideas. The simple but memorable guitar arpeggios. The way the songs transitions between sections organically and flawlessly. The drive of the song.


 Yes, the song is very atmospheric but it’s also a hard driving, instantly memorable pop song. Yes, Sting repeats his annoying tendency of repeating a single phrase at the end of the song until you want to slap him but somehow it works better here than the first album.


 The band pulls off another solid instrumental with “Regatta de Blanc.” The song isn’t as “world beat memorable” as “Maskogo Tanga” but it has a great build, amazing energy and is highly atmospheric. The same is true of the semi-instrumental “Deathwish.” Both of these tunes were band co-writes, leading me to believe that they were at the very least semi-improvised.


 Copeland steps into his own as a songwriter with three solo-written songs to go with his earlier co-write. His first, “On Any Other Day” shows off Copeland’s rather…blunt sense of humor. It is funny, especially to hear and Copeland harmonizing (flatly) during the chorus. However, the song’s a bit too unmemorable to be a highlight.


 “Does Everyone Stare” is perhaps the best Copeland written song on the album. It starts out with a mumbled Copeland vocal supported by cabaret style piano. Later, the band comes in and supports it with an appropriate rock cabaret arrangement as Sting takes over the vocalizations. It may depart slightly from the rather “blue” atmosphere of the album but it’s still a good tune.


 “Contact” is a very strange song with deep synth bass swoops during the verse contrasting with the guitar arpeggios driving the “have we got contact?” chorus. Summers plays up a storm on this song, including simple arpeggios and driving rhythm guitar that show off his skills as a rock-solid, in the pocket rhythm guitarist with an almost unlimited knowledge of chords.


 Speaking of Summers, his best showcase comes with the reggae ballad “The Bed’s Too Big Without You.” The chords he’s playing are rather simple but he nails that interesting hammered on progression perfectly. He also messed with the beat, throwing in off beat chords. Sting perhaps puts in his best vocal performance on this song. You actually believe him, for once.


 The list of ballads and songs ends with “Bring on the Night” another semi-reggae ballad that features pretty sharp guitar playing, excellent singing and more of Copeland’s amazing drumming. The guy isn’t exactly the king of flash but he really knows how to throw in interesting variations on rhythms to keep the song from becoming too boring.


 “Regatta de Blanc” is an improvement over “Outlandos d’Amour” because it (mostly) eliminates the weird stylistic detours of the debut album (such as “Sally”) and eliminates any serious songwriting gaffes (such as “Born in the 50’s”) and tightens up the playing to the point of pain. The band plays so tight during the album it almost seems uncanny.



 However, the biggest improvement on the album is that it feels like an album. Instead of feeling like a collection of songs, it feels cohesive, atmospheric and engaging. The band uses synthesizers fairly sparingly throughout the album but it often feels like there are is something creating that depressing, despairing mood throughout the album.



 The band might throw in more reverb than normal and play a bit slower but the atmosphere comes not from any real production tricks but from the songs and playing. These are moody tunes that all combine to create a moody album. It’s easy to feel blue while listening to this album.



 However, the band doesn’t seem to wallow in its own depression and pretensions of atmospheric mood making. They avoid becoming overbearing by making their little depressing pop tunes catchy as hell and avoiding blunt, over-obvious lyrical sadness. The songs are a little sad, yes, but Sting does his best to avoid pure unhinged sadness.


 A breakthrough for the band that sets the stage for their critical and commercial success.




 
They quit at the peak of their popularity, breaking up after five albums. A lot of the hostility that led to their breakup was caused by song selection. Each member wanted more of his songs on the albums, mainly because the writer received the royalties, and unlike bands like U2 and Van Halen, The Police did not share songwriting credits.


 
The Police started as a punk band, originally with guitarist Henry Padovani. They played more complex styles when Andy Summers joined.


For a short time they had four members, but they fired Padovani once it became clear that Summers would work out.


 
They're from England, but first gained popularity in the US, where they attracted a following after touring small clubs, including CBGBs.


 
Before they hit it big, all three members dyed their hair blond for a Wrigley's Gum commercial in 1978.


 
Copeland's father was a member of the CIA.


 
The Police reunited in 2007, opening the Grammy awards with a performance of "Roxanne" before going on tour. Their previous performance was in 2003 when they were inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame.


 
Their rise coincided with MTV, which went on the air in 1981. With their intriguing videos and photogenic look, they received a great deal of promotion on the channel.


 
The champion race horse Zenyatta was named after The Police album Zenyatta Mondatta. Jerry Moss, who signed The Police to his label A&M Records (Moss is the "M", his partner Herb Alpert is the "A"), bought the horse when she was a yearling for $60,000 from former PolyGram records CFO Eric Kronfeld, and named her after the album. The investment paid off for Moss - Zenyatta won over $7 million in purses.


 
They won the Grammy award for Best Rock Instrumental Performance two years in a row, for "Reggatta de Blanc" and "Behind My Camel."


 
Their first gigs were on tour with the female punk singer Cherry Vanilla; they would perform first, then Sting and Copeland would act as her backup band. Cherry Vanilla released two albums in the '70s but never made it big as a singer. She later became an author.



"Message In A Bottle"


This song is about a guy stranded on a remote island. One day he finds a bottle, puts a message in it and throws it out to sea in hopes that someone will find it and come save him. He's thrilled to wake up one morning and find a whole bunch (a hundred billion, by his count) of bottles on the shore, proving there are many other castaways just like him. The lyrics can be seen as a metaphor for being lonely and realizing there are lots of people just like you.


 Sting said: "I think the lyrics are subtle and well crafted enough to hit people on a different level from something you just sing along to. It's quite a cleverly put together metaphor. It develops and has an artistic shape to it."


Guitarist Andy Summers said it was the best track he ever played on.


 
Until they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, this was the last song The Police played together. After breaking up in 1986, they performed it at Sting's wedding to Trudie Styler in 1992. Sting, Stewart Copeland, and Andy Summers were all a little drunk and didn't play it very well, but the guests loved it. In 2003, The Police got together again for the induction ceremonies, where they played this along with "Roxanne" and "Every Breath You Take."


 
This was the first UK #1 hit for The Police. Their first two albums were much bigger in their native England than in the US.


 
Sting wrote in Lyrics By Sting: "I was pleased that I'd managed a narrative song with a beginning, a middle, and some kind of philosophical resolution in the final verse. If I'd been a more sophisticated songwriter, I would have probably illuminated this change of mood by modulating the third verse into a different key. But it worked anyway."


 This was the first single from the second Police album, Reggatta De Blanc (which means "White Reggae"). The single was released shortly before the album came out.


 
The first person to hear the guitar riff for this song was not a person at all, but Sting's dog. "I used to play it over and over again to my dog in our basement flat in Bayswater," Sting wrote in Lyrics By Sting, "and he would stare at me with that look of hopeless resignation dogs can have when they're waiting for their walk in the park. Was it that hopeless look that provoked the idea of the island castaway and his bottle? I don't know, but the song sounded like a hit the first time we played it. The dog finally got his walk, and this song was our first number-one in the UK."


 
This was the first ever UK #1 for the A&M label, which Herb Alpert and Jerry Moss founded in 1962.


 
Sting performed this with No Doubt at halftime of the 2003 Super Bowl between the Bucs and Raiders. No Doubt lead singer Gwen Stefani came out and sang with him about midway through. Stefani inducted Police into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame later that year.


 
It may surprise you to learn that the song was influenced by the church music that Sting used to sing as a child. He explained in Isle Of Noises by Daniel Rachel: "I used to sing Gregorian chants and plainsong as an altar boy. A lot of my melodies might reflect that love and my early exposure to that stark, melodic narrative. 'Message In A Bottle' reflects that, too."




"Bring On The Night"

Written by Sting, this is the fourth track from the band's second album.


 
Sting borrowed lyrics from "Carrion Prince (O Ye of Little Hope)," a song he wrote for his previous band, No Exit.


 
This was released as a single in the US, France and Germany, but only charted in France, where it peaked at #6.


 
The second line of this song, "when the evening spreads itself against the sky," is taken from T.S. Eliot's 1920 poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." Sting noted in Lyrics By Sting: "What is it Eliot said? 'Bad poets borrow, good poets steal'?"


Something like that. What Eliot actually said (from his 1920 collection of essays The Sacred Wood): "One of the surest of tests is the way in which a poet borrows. Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different. The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different from that from which it was torn; the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion."



 "Walking On The Moon"


Sting was visiting German avant-garde composer Eberhard Schoener in early 1979. One night they went out on a schnapps drinking session. Sting returned to his Munich hotel room drunk, slumped on his bed when this song's riff came into his head. He got up and starting walking round the room to try to clear his head muttering to himself, "Walking round the room, walking round the room." The next morning he wrote down the riff and decided that "Walking round the room" was a stupid title so he changed it to an even more stupid one, which was "Walking On The Moon."


 
The song's video was shot at the The Johnson Space Center (home of Mission Control) in Houston, Texas.


 
Acknowledging the reggae roots of this song, Sting performed it at the 2013 Grammy Awards in a tribute to Bob Marley that also included Bruno Mars, Rihanna, Damian Marley and Ziggy Marley.


 
"I came up with a melody that felt light and airy - in fact, lighter than air," Sting recalled in Lyrics By Sting. "Nine years before, Neil Armstrong had walked on the moon and said the famous words that everyone misquotes. 'Giant Steps' is also one of my favorite John Coltrane tunes. Songs are built by whimsy, faulty memory, and free association."




"On Any Other Day"

Written by Police drummer Stewart Copeland, this song seems to be about all the things that life throws at us, and the problems we face on a really bad day. We could deal with them all, if only on any other day.


 
From the book MTV Ruled the World - The Early Years of Music Video, here's Stewart Copeland talking about the early days of music videos at the dawn of MTV: "Up until that point, videos were not an art form. The only place I'd seen them was in England, on shows like Top of the Pops. When there would be an American group that actually couldn't show up, they would send video, which was usually just a camera following a band around a park while they walk around, and someone says, 'Hey, get an ice cream! Let's have all the lads eating ice cream!' They were sort of like Monkees' videos."



 


  

DAY 435.
Talking Heads........................................................Fear Of Music   (1979)











This will be the third album by Talking Heads that came from this book, now I do like TH but 3 albums may be more than enough for me (unless my favourite TH album, Stop Making Sense, comes up later,) don't get me wrong this is a fine album with one of my favourite tracks "Life During Wartime," but for me this was no better than the previous two albums (that are already in my collection)

This album wont be getting added to my collection.




Bits & Bobs;

Have already posted twice about Talking Heads (if interested)




Released on Aug. 3, 1979, Talking Heads Fear of Music found David Byrne's always-offbeat observations set to turbulent, often strikingly ominous music beds that grew out of loose, but ultimately uncredited full-band jams. As such, it wasn't a departure so much as a deepening and a dimming of what came before. It's clear now, though, that the ominous and intriguing Fear of Music was a bellwether juncture for the band, its music and its future.
They were pushing, and hard, against the edges of an approach that always seemed to include a wink and a nudge in the past. As the ties that bound the band began to weaken, however, their approach reflected the looming clouds all around. You hear it in the fin de siecle dread surrounding their radio favorite "Life During Wartime" and the disturbingly beautiful nihilism of "Heaven."

 The album's explosive opener "I Zimbra," which featured African cadences, a memorable guest turn by King Crimson's Robert Fripp and lyrics based on the absurdist poetry of Hugo Ball, feels like a moment of catharsis, and that's just at the beginning.

 "This ain't no party / This ain't no disco / This ain't no fooling around," Byrne reminds us during "Life During Wartime." And so "Cities" explores the life of someone who only feels comfortable when surrounded by the anonymity of urban life. "Air" uncovers a character so miserable that even the simplest task has become unbearable. "Drugs," well, that speaks for itself. Best of all -- certainly scariest of all -- might be "Memories Can't Wait," a swirling column of after-party rage and disassociative fear.


 Fear of Music, underrated multi-instrumentalist Jerry Harrison told Anil Prasad in 1999, "completed the earlier vision of the band, yet had a sophistication about it."

 As such, Fear of Music, though it went to No. 21 on the Billboard albums chart, can perhaps be difficult to connect with. Lester Bangs memorably suggested that the album be retitled Fear of Everything. Even Robert Christgau was moved to admit that "a little sweetening might help."




And yet, initially at least, this dystopian vision emerged from a close-knit place, something that might be hard to believe as the candidly depressed Fear of Music unfolds. The album, in fact, began with cords snaking into a loft owned by drummer Chris Frantz and bassist Tina Weymouth from a recording van parked outside. It couldn't have been more lo-fi, more garage band, more familial. After two albums, and their first breakout hit in a modern cover of Al Greens "Take Me to the River," Talking Heads had decided to return to the punk era's seminal approach.
As the sessions continued, Byrne began to take a more central role. His friend Brian Eno, in the midst of a three-album run as producer, was eventually brought in to help shape the sounds they were creating. By then, Talking Heads had already decided that the anxiety they'd poked fun at before was worth exploring more completely. And explore it, they did. "We made sure no song sounded exactly like the other," Byrne wrote in his 2012 book How Music Works.

 He dubbed the working process in the loft as "incomplete recording," something Byrne was only just beginning to develop. The band would lay down basic tracks, then embellish from there while Byrne improvised lyrics on the spot. Harrison designed the album cover, and suggested the title -- an idea that seemed to fit in with the project's overarching theme of displacement.

 "We were an alternative to a lot of the overblown pop music that was around then," Byrne told Time years later. "But it wasn't as simple as what I described. The music had this disturbing hue to it."



What they ended up with might be best described -- to borrow a Christgau phrase from elsewhere in his original review -- as "gritty weirdness." Fear of Music sounds robotic, but intense. Futuristic, yet earthy. Bold but, yeah, afraid. Mikal Gilmore, writing in Rolling Stone in 1979, described it as an "agitated presence in a composed environment." In this way, it works in perfect concert with Byrne's lyrical constructions.Go back to "Memories Can't Wait," with its insomniac vibe. The song is both unspeakably tired and completely keyed up. That sums up the twilit jitters that envelop Fear of Music, a project that simply bristles with outsider experimentation, hooky invention and rhythmic surprises -- even as the lyric sheet travels down these harrowing back alleys. "In the Talking Heads, the rhythm section is like a ship or train -- very forceful and certain of where it’s going," Eno told Gilmore. "On top of that, you have this hesitant, doubting quality that dizzily asks, ‘Where are we going?’ That makes for a sense of genuine disorientation, unlike the surface insanity of the more commonplace, expressionist punk groups."




Not everything on the album reaches for that kind of outsized greatness. But the best moments on Fear of Music remain some of the most important things -- and, at the same time, some of the darkest -- that Talking Heads have ever done. Certainly, as Harrison has noted, the disco paranoia of "I Zimbra" set the course for everything that would follow musically.
There was one more thing: When Fear of Music was first issued, every song was attributed to Byrne, despite the clear involvement of the others. Later editions rectified that, as "Life During Wartime" was properly credited to all four members, Harrison's contributions were noted on "Memories Cant Wait" and "Heaven," and Eno earned a co-writing nod on "Drugs." But the seeds were sewn for divisions that would eventually rip the band apart into the '80s.


 In the end, as author Jonathan Lethem has said, this can be viewed as the final Talking Heads album, or the final real one, anyway. After Fear of Music, Byrne began radically expanding the group beyond its founding foursome -- both onstage and in the studio -- with an eye toward achieving more and more complexities of sound. By the time the follow-up Remain in Light appeared -- with a credit that read "All songs by David Byrne, Brian Eno, Talking Heads" -- their era of work as a cooperative quartet was effectively over. The sense of separation so skillfully delineated throughout Fear of Music had been made real.




"I Zimbra"


With African percussion rhythms augmented by synthesizers, this song was the brainchild of Brian Eno, who produced the Talking Heads Fear of Music album. Eno came up with similar sounds for his 1974 album Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy).

As for the lyrics, they came about when Eno suggested to David Byrne that he adapt the poem Gadji beri bimba by the German Dadaist writer Hugo Ball. Eno, Byrne and Ball are the credited writers on the song.

Dadaism was a literary and artistic movement developed between 1915 and 1922, born of reaction and disillusion during World War 1. In 1916 Hugo Ball founded the Cabaret Voltaire night club in Zurich. Events there proved pivotal to the spread of the movement, which aimed to question established artistic rules and values by provoking outrage.


 
Keyboardist Jerry Harrison has named this as his favorite Talking Heads song.


 
Robert Fripp, best known for his work in King Crimson, played guitar on this track.


 
This became a popular live song for the band when they toured in 1980, adding five additional people to their lineup: Adrian Belew (guitar), Nona Hendryx and Donette McDonald (vocals), keyboardist Bernie Worrell (keyboards) and Steven Scales (percussion). , Hendryx said of this song, "That's a great one. The whole sort of the feel of that and the motion, the rhythm that, well, it's just a cool rhythm. It's African, but western and almost South American."



"Cities"


This song finds David Byrne singing about a man looking for a city to live in. During the song he talks about London being "a small city." He explained to Uncut August 2015: "I think I meant that it was made up of lots of small villages, and people sometimes never ventured out of their little village."




"Life During Wartime"

Punk music is very much about going against the mainstream and disrupting life as we know it, and while the Sex Pistols sang vengefully about destroying the government in "Anarchy In The UK," this song has a similar sentiment with a different tone. Here, David Byrne sings from the point of view of an insurgent who is a bit paranoid and has a problem giving up the creature comforts you lose when you enter into guerilla warfare, not the least of which is giving up music.


The song is remarkably prescient in its theme of technology leading to a society where information is exploited. Corporations and governments were using computers in 1979, and hackers found the flaws. David Byrne drew inspiration from a book he read about computer crimes, which included a story about a guy who forged deposit slips with his bank account number and got patrons to inadvertently put money into his account. Another story was about someone who used a touch-tone phone to break into the General Electric computer network and steal supplies. With the big boys owning this technology but having trouble controlling it, Byrne saw a bleak future. He told NME in 1979: "There will be chronic food shortages and gas shortages and people will live in hovels. Paradoxically, they'll be surrounded by computers the size of wrist watches. Calculators will be cheap. It'll be as easy to hook up your computer with a central television bank as it is to get the week's groceries. I think we'll be cushioned by amazing technological development and sitting on Salvation Army furniture. Everything else will be crumbling. Government surveillance becomes inevitable because there's this dilemma when you have an increase in information storage. A lot of it is for your convenience - but as more information gets on file it's bound to be misused."

 
Two underground clubs where the Talking Heads used to play are mentioned in the lyrics: CBGB's and The Mudd Club.


 
A live version from the Talking Heads 1984 concert film Stop Making Sense gave the song new life and charted at #80 in the US.


 
The phrase "Life During Wartime" does not appear in the lyrics.


 
About the album title: David Byrne came across a book called Music And The Brain, which discussed a phobia some people have regarding music. The book explained that music is so distressing to some people that they have to be sent to the countryside where they can't hear it. Byrne thought the contradiction between the intent of music and this reaction was interesting.


If this doesn't get you going, check for a pulse!




 


 

arabchanter wrote:

Just a question for anyone out there who is knowledgeable in all things guitary, a guy I new years ago was learning guitar, and he told me his guitar teacher told him to try and listen to The Police and play along with their music, I was just wondering if anyone can tell me the reasoning behind this, it must have worked because he ended up pretty good by all accounts, it's funny how music can take you back and jog your memory, I've never seen or thought about that boy in years.

  

Not hugely knowledgeable about guitar techniques, but Andy Summers was probably highly regarded due to his ability to play a huge variety of styles in a number of bands pre-Police. Yet I don't think he was actually much of a song-writer, just an adaptable and skilled guitarist.

Wasn't a big Police fan, yet there are a few Police albums in my house as my wife liked them.

A Police/United connection in my mind which nobody will remember: the LC Final, first game at Hampden v Aberdeen, I remember United fans in the north terrace singing Walking on the Moon. Can't remember much more about that game, apart from a big group of Celtic fans coming in to the match and being segregated by the actual police on the east terracing. I think they had a game postponed late on v Dundee and, with football being so cheap in the 'seventies, they headed for Hampden to make a pest of themselves.

Well off topic there!

Edit: another thing about that LC Final day - my pal, who I'd known since the first day at primary school, scored the only goal for the Warriors against the 'Shire that day.
 

Last edited by PatReilly (22/10/2018 7:57 pm)

DAY 440.
Japan.................................................Quiet Life   (1979)











Japan's transition from glam rock to trendy arthouse was a revelation. The band's third album catches the new wave of romanticism perfectly and exposes David Sylvian as a singer of some stature. Sylvian's voice attains a sultry gravitas here that drew strong comparisons with Bryan Ferry, while the vocalist's hazy pouting on the cover gained him great iconic clout.

DAY442.
The Slits.............................................Cut   (1979)









Although The Slits performed together since 1976, being on the forefront of the punk movement in London, Cut was only released in 1979, when the movement was already breaking apart. The album remains a classic because of its unique style, visionary in its mix of Punk and Reggae, and its feminist anthems like "Typical Girls".

 Typical Girls was also released as a single, with a cover version of "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" as B-Side. The album peaked at #24 in the British Album Charts.

 The album was produced by Reggae Producer Dennis Bovell, who also contributed several sound effects (for example on Newtown).

 The album is also well-known for its powerful cover, where the three Slits, Ari, Tessa, and Viv show full front nudity with a warrior-like pose. It was shot by Pennie Smith, who also shot the equally iconic "London Calling album cover for The Clash. In an interview for the 2009 biography of The Slits called "Typical Girls?", she said about the collaboration: “I got to know them through The Clash, and I enjoyed working with them because I didn’t find them girly.”

 In the same book, guitarist Viv Albertine also spoke about the cover: “We thought it was funny to be covered in English mud, and it was an English cottage (where the Slits also recorded the album) with English roses behind us, and there we are like three savages in England.”

 It is told that during the promotion phase of Cut, with giant posters of the cover pasted all over London, a motorist tried to sue their record company Island Records, because he was so stunned by the spectacle that he crashed his car.

 The album cover was also controversial in other scenes, as Viv Albertine recalls: “It also created a misunderstanding among feminists, with some convinced they were trying to use their bodies to sell their album.”
 

DAY 444.
Neil Young And Crazy Horse..........................................Rust Never Sleeps   (1979)









Neil Young’s 1979 album, made famous for the single Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black) and Kurt Cobain’s allusion to its lyrics in his suicide note 15 years later. It was mostly recorded live but contains studio overdubs on most of its tracks; Sail Away and Pocahontas were recorded completely in studio. It’s first half is comprised of acoustic songs and the second of electric songs, with the album bookended by versions of the same song, Hey Hey, My My.

 Its title is a term used Neil and his band to avoid artistic stagnation in a time in which newer rock sounds like Devo and Sex Pistols put them at the risk of getting outdated and left to “rust”.



 

DAY 437.
Chic..................................................................Risque   (1979)












Deffo short and sweet, the same as previous ramblings about Chic and Sister Sledge, 90% of the time you could walk out of the room, go for a pish, comeback and think it's still the same song playing, very much of it's time and even the one track I don't mind "Good Times" has been extended to an excruciating 8 minutes.


This album wont be going into my collection.




Bits & Bobs;


Already posted about this mob (if interested)


Chic’s third album, Risqué, is one of the greatest exhibits in the case for disco’s defence. Released in the summer of 1979, it was as integral to the Atlantic label as any of the great rock albums that had taken the imprint out of Black America and into the world in the late 60s. With a budget of $160,000, it was a widescreen record with widescreen ambitions.


 Good Times, with its striking, repetitive strangeness, is the greatest track here. It nodded to the Great Depression, with guitarist Nile Rodgers partially recycling the lyrics to the US 1930s standard Happy Days Are Here Again. It’s a masterful song, yet smacks somewhat of a distant desperation, a robotic reminder that if you repeat a mantra of happiness long enough you may finally actually believe in it. All the component parts of Good Times continually surprise: the four-note string refrain alternating on the verse; the almost claustrophobic unison of the vocals; and then the break. Bassist Bernard Edwards’ 20-note riff drives the record forward over Tony Thompson’s crispest snare-crack. It was used on street corners throughout the world as the backing to what disco did next: hip hop.


 Of the album’s six other tracks, My Forbidden Lover explored the irresistible urge of the forbidden. What About Me centred on 70s selfishness. Can’t Stand to Love You was a dark vignette about sinister love ("Little punk do it for me, or I’ll number your days"), and Will You Cry (When You Hear This Song) is a painfully beautiful ballad, one of vocalist Alfa Anderson’s best performances. My Feet Keep Dancing demonstrates both Chic’s intelligence and sophistication. It underlines how dance is a celebration of life, even with the sound of vaudeville tap dancing as the ‘solo’. Only the beautiful A Warm Summer Night seems to drift by without any deeper agenda.


 Risqué is an album that dwells on relationships: bleak, unrequited ones, tinged with sadism and despair; relationships with the past, and, of course, with the dance floor. As a result, it remains Chic’s most sustained artistic statement, a celebration of a 70s that was collapsing under its own excess and hedonism. Risqué is all angular veneers, thrown shapes and dark shadows – it is the disco album as a rock classic.



"Good Times"


 
This song, built around Bernard Edwards' distinctive bassline, is one of the most copied and sampled records ever. With two copies of the record, DJs could create a continuous loop of the instrumental groove, providing a perfect foundation for MCs to rap over.



Rap was emerging at New York block parties, and when Sylvia Robinson assembled The Sugarhill Gang to put a rap song on record, it was "Good Times" that they used for the track, looping it in the studio just like DJs did at the block parties, and even incorporating the string hits from the song.



The result was "Rappers Delight," which was released later in 1979. It sold a bunch of 12" singles and made the US Top 40 and UK Top 10, becoming the first rap song to do so.



Nile Rodgers of Chic knew that his song was a block party favorite, but he didn't hear "Rapper's Delight" until he was in a club and the DJ played it. He vigorously objected to the use of his song as the track for another, and threatened legal action. Rather than fight it, Sugarhill Records settled with Chic and awarded them full composer credit, so Edwards and Rodgers are listed as the only songwriters on "Rapper's Delight." With no lawsuit, there was no precedent set for sampling, and artists began incorporating tracks from other songs with impunity throughout the '80s. It was Gilbert O'Sullivan whose 1991 lawsuit against Biz Markie finally established the legal ruling that samples must be cleared.


 
The song is a joyful look back at the roller-disco decade in which after Nixon and Vietnam and the times of recession better days seemed to be ahead.


 
Another song heavily influenced by "Good Times" was "Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen. Bernard Edwards told the New Musical Express: "Well, that Queen record came about because that bass player spent some time hanging out with us at our studio. But that's OK. What isn't OK is that the press started saying that we had ripped them off! Can you believe that? 'Good Times' came out more than a year before, but it was inconceivable to these people that black musicians could possibly be innovative like that. It was just these dumb disco guys ripping off this rock 'n' roll song."


 
The lyric, "Our new state of mind" is often mistaken to be "Are you straight or bi?"


  
Nile Rodgers told Uncut magazine the story of the song: "I wrote 'Good Times' the morning we recorded it. Bernard was a little late to the studio, but I'd already written out the charts for everybody in the band. We were playing when Bernard walked in. He asked the engineers, 'what the hell is that?' The engineer said, ' I don't know, something Nile wrote this morning.' Whenever Bernard was late, he was like a puppy dog with his tail between his legs. Typically, what he and I do is we'd copy each other and then develop our parts after that."


"We'd been trying for years to come up with this walking bassline, putting it over and over again on all sorts of songs but we could never get it right. But that day, I started screaming 'Walk!' over Tony's drums. Bernard said, 'What?' I was shouting 'Walk!' On that particular day, he walked."


"Even though my guitar part was strong on the down beats, Bernard decided to push and go to bass before I get to the chord change. I'm not even there yet, so we get this amazing extra funky thing. I just told the engineer, 'Make it red!' We recorded it. That was it. One take, maybe two."

 

Late to the party with Joy Division too, probably got into them following New Order's early stuff (which is quite different). 

Agree with your folks' past opinion, a/c that the album is a racket. But I quite like rackets.

DAY 438.
The Undertones.......................................The Undertones   (1979)












I love this album, over the years I've had in all formats vinyl, cassette, CD,mp3 and download oh and flac, punk,post-punk,punk-pop or pop-punk or whatever you want to call this, the bottom line it's an absolute masterpiece, in my humbles. This has got to be in the top five of my all time favourite albums.


Looking at the band members, they could have quite easily have been boys from my scheme at that time, also none of this, aloof, arty-farty ,ehma right clever cunt type o' lyrics, just stories about everyday stuff that you could maybe relate to at that time in your life (obviously not the opening track)


Being only just under 30 minutes is always a bonus, but I'm always amazed at how quick the time goes, I have to confess I listen to this album at least once a fortnight, and it never fails to give me a lift and put me in a good mood, for a little while at least. To choose my favourite is a impossible task, as for me they are all stand outs and have more than had my back over the past 39 years, a well used go-to in good times and bad.



The first time I heard The Undertones was on the magnificent John Peel show, I bought the album as soon as I could thereafter, this wasn't the first or indeed the last time Mr Peel would guide me in my musical journey, his show was indeed, an education.



"The Undertones" is full of energetic, exciting music, the lyrics like the album cover, not over-dressed just down to earth and honest, I'm probably biased, but I still think this is as fresh today as it was the first time I heard It' if you haven't listened to this one, I urge you to give it a spin, it's only half an hour out of your life and I don't think you'll be disappointed.


This album will be going into my vinyl collection.




The most upbeat/bubbly song about incest you'll ever hear ( maybe get the DJ at Tannadice to play it for some of our visitors)









Bits & Bobs;




Northern Ireland’s greatest export since cultural icons VAN MORRISON, Georgie Best and Alex “Hurricane” Higgins, punk-pop band The UNDERTONES would probably not have reached legendary status had it not been for one seminal record, `Teenage Kicks’, and the man who aired the song constantly on its release in September 1978… fan and Radio One DJ, John Peel. A pleasant diversion from the country’s “troubles”, quavering frontman Feargal Sharkey and Co were, of course, not just a one-trick-pony and, with subsequent mainland hits, `Jimmy Jimmy’, `My Perfect Cousin’, `It’s Going To Happen’ (among others about girls, chocolate and er… girls), The UNDERTONES became a household name for the unruly youth of the day.



Formed in the troubled Derry, in late ’75, long-time friends Feargal Sharkey, brothers John and Damian O’Neill (on guitars), Michael “Mickey” Bradley (bass) and Billy Doherty (drums), performed anywhere they could, in and out of the city, despite showbands almost saturated the local music scene. Rejected by several major labels when punk rock seemed to be in a transitional new wave overhaul, the lads were approached by Belfast shop owner, Terry Hooley, who offered to release an EP – with his favourite `Teenage Kicks’ as lead track – on his fresh independent, Good Vibrations Records 



Almost immediately championed by the aforementioned night-time DJ, Peel, this compelling slice of adolescent angst reached the collective ear of Seymour Stein at Sire Records (home to TALKING HEADS, RAMONES, etc), which led to a prestigious global deal. For now, happy to let The UNDERTONES loose on the British public (hoping against hope that CLASH fans in America would soon embrace them), `Teenage Kicks’ duly became the Brit hit it deserved to be. However, when February follow-up `Get Over You’ stalled at No.57, the label’s investment looked to be a little shaky. Unperturbed and ready to unleash the accompanying LP anytime soon, the colourfully-morbid `Jimmy Jimmy’ cracked the chart that spring, a boisterous pop-punk stomper reminiscent of a wittier, more laid-back BUZZCOCKS, or RAMONES.



Bolstered by the aforementioned hits, THE UNDERTONES (1979) {*9} album was just about perfect, John O’Neill’s thinking-mans’ anthems plucked from ink hardly dry by their chin-y chanter, Feargal Sharkey. Now heralded as one of the most promising and intelligent new-wave/punk-pop bands in the UK (like a more hyperactive KINKS), the quintet chronicled the nitty-gritty, highs and lows of everyday life in such unforgettable pop nuggets as `Here Comes The Summer’ (their follow-on Top 40 hit), `True Confessions’ (a B-side to “…Kicks”) and the Damian-penned opener, `Family Entertainment’. Match these songs to `Male Model’, `I Gotta Getta’, `Girls Don’t Like It’ and their paean to the only homeland venue that would take them in, `Casbah Rock’ (all 47 seconds of it!), The UNDERTONES had come of er… age.



Turning up like badly behaved, but still ostensibly cute, younger siblings during the second wave of punk, Derry's Undertones always had youth on their side. Anyone who remembers seeing their first foray onto the nation's screens on TOTP remembers a spotty bunch of teenagers in school jumpers and docs. Much like Ash, 25 years later, Northern Ireland seemed to breed early starters.


 Armed with seemingly rudimentary musical skills, the reason the Undertones stuck out was that, unlike their cooler older peers from London and Manchester, they didn't stick to the rigorous adoption of American garage and art rock like the Stooges to the Velvets. They were still in love with their elder brothers and sisters' Bolan and Bowie albums: their sound welded glam to pub rock, all topped off with Feargal Sharkey's Larry the Lamb warble. If they did take a cue from any USA acts it was the cartoon fun of The Ramones, Here Comes The Summer contains the same Beach Boys-on-amphetamine rush that 'da brudders' wielded so succesfully. At the same time, the accents definitely didn't stray across the pond. Never has the Northern Irish twang been so thrust into the face of our pop kids. Check out the deadpan backing vocals on True Confessions.


 One thing they did share with many of their elders was the fact that they achieved near-perfection with this first album. The self-titled debut not only contained their first three-chord bolt from the blue that had so floored punk's friendly Uncle, John Peel, when it was first released on the Good Vibrations label -Teenage Kicks - it also yielded Get Over You (arguably a BETTER record than the sainted Kicks), Here Comes The Summer and Jimmy Jimmy.


 It was mainly the pop savvy of John O'Neill (occassionally helped out by brother Damian) that created these paeans to working class teenage life. The subject matter didn't revolve around nihilism, but rather young love/lust frustration and all things adolescent. And just about every track could been a hit. Only the wibbly mini-closer, Casbah Rock, hinted that they had ambitions beyond three-minute bursts of fun.


 Power pop and even cod-psychedelia were lurking around the corner and by 1983 (until their reformation in the 90s) the game was just about up. But in the summer of 1979 five lads from Derry were the best geeks on the block.






Also liked this review:



 If you have to credit the punk movement in the seventies for one thing, it's that it caused a welcome return of interest to the 3-minute pop song. The early seventies' music charts were dominated by the musical dinosaurs that were Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Yes and so many others, who apparently couldn't write a song if it wasn't over 9 minutes long. But all that changed when the Ramones entered the scene in '76. In their wake, a whole new type of bands, who weren't very technical in their guitar playing, arose to the scene and songs could again be short and have catchy choruses. One of these bands was The Undertones and their debut album came out in May 1979 (and already re-released in October of the same year, to include the successful singles Teenage Kicks and Get Over You).




The Undertones scored big time with their first single Teenage Kicks, a punk anthem if there ever was one. It was fast, loud, had a massive sing-a-long chorus and most of all: it was fun. Instead of criticizing the politics, society or whatever - as most punk bands did those days - the song described the joys of teenage love and wanting to hold the hand of a pretty girl, how sweet. The following singles Get Over You and Jimmy Jimmy were equally as fun and fast, and The Undertones had found their niche. So a debut album was recorded and released in May 1979.




Here we have that very same debut album, and it must be said: the album has aged very well. These are very simple, 4 chord punk tracks, but executed with so much enthusiasm, you cannot help but smile all the way through. Not much variation in arrangements is to be found here (obviously), but as the album finishes around 30 minutes of playing time, let's not consider that a negative factor. That said, there is some form of rudimentary experimentation or sound evolution from the first singles present: the synthesizer is introduced in a couple of tracks, most notably on the best song of the album Here Comes The Summer. It's cheesy as hell, but at least it doesn't sound gimmicky, as opposed to the saxophone on the debut of X-Ray Spex.




As stated previously, the lyrics aren't very smart or sophisticated, but who cares anyway. The choruses will get stuck in your head for days, together with the doo-doo-doos of the backing vocals (Wrong Way, Listening In). The voices of the band members (like The Beatles, each member sings on different songs) are clean and poppy, but still have bit of roughness in them, perfectly fitting the music.




All in all, The Undertones released a timeless and near-perfect pop album, which should be heard by as many people as possible. It will brighten up your day anytime (at least a little bit) with its naive teenage enthusiasm.




The Story Behind The Song: Teenage Kicks by The Undertones
It may be one of the most cherished recordings ever, but the story behind the release of The Undertones’ Teenage Kicks in 1978 is long on happy accidents. Derry’s only punk band didn’t originally plan it to be the lead track on their debut EP (a record that itself was intended solely as an epitaph) and they even had to persuade their singer to rejoin the band just to do the recording. But when DJ John Peel got to hear it, everything went a bit mad. Not that it turned the heads of our heroes. Famously ambivalent to rock-star behaviour and the trappings of fashion – “You wore what your ma bought you back then” – they would be together for a brief but fertile four-album, five-year career.


 They weren’t always popular. If you inspect the back cover of Teenage Kicks you’ll find a photo of some arcane Derry graffiti: ‘Undertones – shit, pish, counts, wankers’.


 “At the time, punk wasn’t that well known in Derry,” reflects guitarist John O’Neill. “We had a core following of 50 people or so, but apart from that we were treated with a lot of suspicion.”


 No one owned up to writing the graffiti either: “I think it’s because they can’t spell ‘cunts’ right,” says bassist Michael Bradley. “Who would own up to that?”


 By 1978, after trying to make headway on the local circuit, which pretty much amounted to show band central The Casbah, The Undertones were ready to give up.


 “We had been playing for maybe a year,” John says. “And at that age a year is like a lifetime. We had got to the stage where we were just banging our heads against a brick wall. We thought, ‘Well, at least we’ll put a record out to prove there was a punk band that existed in Derry at the time.’”


 First, however, they’d have to persuade their singer, Feargal Sharkey, to rejoin. No one seems to remember how the split came about, but Bradley was tasked with resolving it.


 “I remember phoning Feargal from the O’Neills’ house, which was the centre of operations,” he says. “I remember saying: ‘Listen, just make the record.‘”


 Bradley’s entreaties won the day: the Teenage Kicks EP was released on the Good Vibrations label, run by Belfast maverick Terri Hooley, in September 78.


 John, the song’s author, says his inspiration was partly the MC5’s Teenage Lust, and, naturally, the Ramones


.“We were huge Ramones fans. You can always hear that in the tunes, and some of the words too.”


 But he’s never considered Teenage Kicks to be the best Undertones song – or even the best one on that record.


 “I still don’t,” he says. “If you look at all the different cover versions of the song, they’ve never been that great. It’s a great record. I can see why John Peel loved the record. You can hear the energy, and the whole sound of it is fantastic. But if you break the song down, it’s not really that original lyrically or musically. But I thank God every day that I wrote it.”


 “What I do remember about Teenage Kicks is Billy’s drum beat at the start,” says Bradley. “I’m nearly sure he borrowed that from somewhere else, another cover we were doing. The Shangri-Las and the Brill Building stuff, I definitely remember that influence as well – that was what we were thinking at the time in terms of what was a good song.”


 John O’Neill attributes the spark of the performance to playing Belfast on a combined Good Vibrations bill on the evening prior to the recording.


 “I remember thinking that night. I’m not sure how good we are, but we’re at least as good or better than the other Belfast bands. That made us confident going in to record the next day. We called it the Teenage Kicks EP because obviously we were teenagers, and it just had a good ring to it – the True Confessions EP wouldn’t have been as good. But even when we played the song live then, I don’t think it stood out more than any other song. We obviously thought it was one of our best, ‘cos we put it on the EP. But we thought True Confessions was the best song on the record.”

 They were all gathered round the radio at O’Neill HQ – “like a youth club,” says O’Neill, “with me, Billy and Feargal always there, like having three extra brothers” – to hear John Peel play it for the first time. In fact he played it twice. Sire Records mogul Seymour Stein was listening too, and he flipped. The Undertones left Good Vibrations with no ill feelings.


 “At the time, Terri would have been perfectly within his rights to say: ‘Listen, I own the copyright to Teenage Kicks, so any deal you do with Sire, I should have a percentage of that’,” Bradley says. “He would have been 100 per cent entitled. And he didn’t. ‘Away you go. Good luck to you!’”


 A delegation went to London to negotiate the band’s new contract. Sharkey and Bradley were the chosen envoys, although Bradley isn’t sure why: “I was the smartest – in terms of O-Levels.” Feargal was “the most hard-headed”.


 “Maybe I was sent to keep an eye on Feargal. I always make comparisons with 1920 and [Irish politician] Michael Collins, when they went over to London to negotiate. Because John, Damian and Billy were back home. They had the veto.”


 When Bradley did call home, emboldened by their distance from the front lines, the remaining trio insisted he ask for more than the £8,000 on the table. £60,000 sounded a nicer figure.


 “I had to cup my hand over the phone and say to Seymour: ‘We’d like more money. As much as the Rich Kids got.’”

 Seymour promptly exploded.

 “I think he did give us more money, but he was probably going from a very low base anyway,” says Bradley.


 Within a month the Teenage Kicks EP had been reissued by Sire, home of their beloved Ramones and Talking Heads. The song has since become a staple of every punk compilation, and was recently used as the title of an Ade Edmondson sitcom. Does its over-exposure exasperate Bradley?


 “I don’t really mind. I can’t mind!” he reasons. “It’s done so well for us, it’s wrong to complain. Not when we play it live and see so many people smiling and loving it.”



John Peel famously said in an interview, "Teenage Kicks came on the radio, and I had to pull the car over to the side of the road. There’s nothing you could add to it or subtract from it that would improve it."



John Peels Death;
 I was numbed when I heard about John’s death. My deepest sympathy goes out to his wife and family. My memory of John is of his unconditional love and generosity to The Undertones.
  My first encounter with John Peel was back in 1978 when as a smug teenager I phoned BBC Radio 1 and asked to speak to 'Mr Peel'. I guess I wanted to make him aware of The Undertones and have us associated with all the great records that he was playing on the radio. Unbelievably he took my call. He was so gracious, patient and considerate. This was the first link with John Peel and The Undertones.

 Throughout the spring and summer of 1978 I would phone 'Mr Peel' and requested songs for the band’s friends. He played gems from the New York Dolls and would name check The Undertones, who at this time had no record deal.

 Once we had recorded the Teenage Kicks EP it was dispatched immediately to “Mr Peel”. One of the greatest moments in my life was when 'Mr Peel' played our record on the Radio. It wasn’t the excitement of having our record played on the Radio, it was the fact that it was played on the John Peel show. He not only played it once but he played it again to the astonishment of a young bunch of lads from Derry. He left us speechless, this was beyond anything we could have imagined our wished for.

 When The Undertones got a record deal on the back of the air play from John Peel and Peter Powell subsequently making it record of the week, we inevitably ended up in the UK, playing support to The Rezillos. During the time that we were in London I would phone Radio 1 and ask to speak to “Mr Peel” and sure enough he would take my call. I would give him an up to the minute report of how we were doing. He was so concerned about the apparent pitfalls and difficulties we would experience and the big bad world of Rock n Roll that he was always apologising. He felt so responsible towards us.

 As our career gradually progressed I got the confidence to address “Mr Peel” as John. I always felt uncomfortable about that; I mean he was the Man.

 When John came to Derry a few years ago to do the documentary on The Undertones I was a bit uncertain as how we would all get on. What will we talk about, is he not shy, what if he doesn’t like us, what if he gets bored? Even with all these thoughts I was so excited. Once again another precious opportunity came along to meet him.

 I needn’t have worried. From the first polite handshake when we met to the crushing bear hug when he left he charmed his way into the hearts of not only the band but also every one that he encountered during his weekend stay in Derry.

 When you hear about the death of some one whom you have so much respect and love for it is difficult to comprehend. They seem immortal, infallible. It’s so sad, so very sad. 'Mr Peel' you are the Man. Billy Doherty - The Undertones