Tek wrote:

arabchanter wrote:

Tek wrote:

Glad you liked the Violent Femmes album Mr C.

Was anxious you would slate it.

Superb album, wish I'd listened to them before now. Had you listened to them before?
 

Yeah mate.

I've known about them for quite some time.

Stumbled upon them one night when i was having a few beers and getting lost down a Youtube wormhole.

You know how it is.
 

I do indeed, many's the night I've started off just wanting to listen to a certain song, then fuck me it's half four in the morning, and thinking how did that happen, music is certainly a time thief!

Sorry for not keeping up with this of late, a couple of reasons been mad busy with work, also labouring for the builders when needed, so been humfing bricks and all manor of stuff up and down ladders.

But the worst bit was probably all my own making, I'd built myself up more than I have for years for this play off final, and since Thursday night I've got myself into a dark mood, lifted temporarily yesterday but not for long.

I can't remember football making me feeling as down as this apart from maybe the St Mirren final, anyways gonna  deffo do McLaren tonight and hopefully music can lift this fuckin' cloud!

Duck Rock.

Think I said earlier I bought this on a tape for some reason, maybe thinking records/vinyl were from the past by 1983 (although I then went on and bought more vinyl as well (???)

The only two tracks on the album which I never got into were the two opening tunes on each side, Oblata and Legba. And having a tape made it more difficult to skip these.

But it was a great album generally, different from anything generally popular at the time, dare I say it, 'white man's hip-hop' in places. I often wondered if influenced the more lauded and establishment acceptable 'Graceland' by Paul Simon, released more than 3 years later.

As I think I also said to Tek, it's maybe really the first Art of Noise album, with a big contribution from Anne Dudley. But to be honest, the album wouldn't have been made without Malcolm McLaren, who liked to stick his neck out and try ground breaking stuff, taking risks others would have feared.

Album 517.
Def Leppard.....................................Pyromania   (1983)












Having listened to this a couple of times it shouldn't take long for me to share my slaverings, you see the problem I have with this mob and bands of their ilk is that fir me at least, they're "10 a penny," I really would struggle to differentiate between a track by this band and a track by at least a dozen others from around the same time, now if that's what floats yer boat, fill yer boots,but for this listener the over layered harmonies in the choruses leave me in a kinda groundhog day scenario.


In saying all this there was a couple of tracks I didn't mind, the opener "Rock Rock (Till You Drop) which was affy AC/DC ish in my humbles, and "Rock Of Ages" which wisnae bad, but none of the tracks would be fit for going on my ipod to be honest, so no' affy impressed with this offering, but then again it's no' my type a music in the first place.


This album wont be going into my collection.





Bits & Bobs;


Formed in England, their name was originally spelled Deaf Leopard. They got the idea to alter the spelling from Led Zeppelin.


 Rick Allen lost his left arm in a car accident on New Year's Eve, 1984 when he was racing his Corvette on a road in Sheffield, England. He flew through the windshield and his arm was ripped off by the seat belt. He quickly expressed his desire to stay with the band, and learned to play with a specially designed, computer-assisted drum kit.


 
Guitarist Steve Clark died of a drug and alcohol overdose in 1991.


 
Joe Elliott started a Mott The Hoople cover band in 2009 called the Down 'n' Outz. Elliott said that recording and performing in this band freed him from the expectations that came with any new Def Leppard material. It was also a way for him to introduce some of his favorite Mott/Ian Hunter songs to a new audience.


 
Steve Clark was dubbed "The Riff-Master" because of his ability to make lots of catchy riffs for the band, many of which were not recorded to songs.



 
Clark and Collen were known as "The Terror Twins," a reference to Aerosmith's Toxic Twins.


 
 Thomas Dolby played keyboards on the Pyromania album. He is credited as Booker T. Boffin.


 
Allen was once criticized by Queen Elizabeth because of the Union Jack boxers he wore onstage. The Union Jack is the flag representing the United Kingdom.



 
Their first concert was in a room in a spoon factory in Sheffield, England. Only six people went to it.


 
Mutt Lange produced Def Leppard's second album, High 'n' Dry. As he had done with AC/DC and Foreigner, Lange infused their songs with pop appeal while building on their Rock foundation. His contributions were so significant that when he produced their next two albums, Lange was credited as a co-writer on every song.


 
On October 23 1995, the band played three 45-minute shows on three different continents. One show was in Tangier, Morocco, another was in London, and the last one was in Vancouver, British Columbia.


 
Before joining Def Leppard, Vivian Campbell played in Dio and Whitesnake.


 
Phil Collen joined Def Leppard after the dismissal of founding member Pete Willis. Collen had previously been a member of a glam band named "Girl."


 
While some individual members had serious problems with drugs and alcohol, the band was quite tame when they toured, avoiding the typical rock mayhem and excess. Said Elliott: "Since rock bands discovered accountants, they don't throw TVs out of windows at 500 quid a time."


 
Their two biggest albums, Pyromania and Hysteria, were released around the same time as Michael Jackson's Thriller and Bad, and spent a lot of time at #2 on the album charts as a result.


 
Many British bands move out of England when they become famous to avoid the heavy taxes, which is known as becoming a "Tax Exile." Def Leppard did this in 1984, moving to Ireland so they could keep more of their money.


 
It wasn't until their 1987 Hysteria album that they broke out in their home country of England. Their biggest success was in America, where Pyromania sold almost 7 million copies, but just 60,000 in England. Early on, they took a lot of stick in the British press, which left a mark on the band. "We don't worry about England anymore," Elliott told Sounds in 1982. "We're just trying to put across the point that everybody's missed out and that is that we've been s--t on and people have said things about us that are a lot of bulls--t."




Behind the Scenes Recording Def Leppard's Pyromania



To describe the recording process for Def Leppard's 1983 powerhouse album, Pyromania, as a labour of love would be an understatement. When you've done so many takes that the tape is falling apart, it's best described as a labor of hate.


 But for the man behind the board on that amazing record, producer Robert John "Mutt" Lange, it's all par for the course as he set out to make an album the likes of which had never been heard before.


 Mutt Lange is a perfectionist who knows what he wants a band to sound like, and basically stops at nothing until he gets it. And even though the members of Def Leppard (drummer Rick Allen, guitarists Steve Clark and Pete Willis, singer Joe Elliott and bassist Rick Savage) had all worked with Lange previously on the fantastic High N Dry record, they'd never been through the ringer like they did working on Pyromania from January-November 1982.

 Just ask Leppard frontman Joe Elliott, who endured take after take - for months on end - to lay down the vocals for Pyromania.


 "He's saying 'look, you can do it better'," recalled Elliott, who actually took vocal lessons from Lange's ex-wife at the time. "All you're wanting to do is go 'no, I bloody well can't. This is as good as it gets'. And (Lange) says 'Well it ain't good enough then'."



And those excessive vocal takes are the tip of the iceberg as Lange added layer upon layer of guitar, drums, bass and background vocals. In fact the recording tape had actually begun to break down by the time the album was ready for final mixes.
  "It became clear from the intensity of working on a record like that, going over and over and over, blocking out backgrounds, changing arrangements, and all that. I'm surprised we ever got it finished, because the tape literally fell to pieces," said the late Mike Shipley, who engineered the record.


 There were so many overdubs, so much rewinding of tape, that the oxide started coming off the tape to the point where Lange could actually see through it. In the end, all that rewinding meant a major loss of high end in the final mixes.



 Leppard Loses a Member

The intense recording process certainly took a toll on the band as guitarist Pete Willis was fired in July after he showed up in the studio severely hung over from partying the previous night. Leppard were working on the "Stagefright" solo and he simply couldn't play guitar that day, so Lange told him to go home and dry out. He was fired shortly thereafter and Phil Collen was quickly recruited as Willis' replacement.


 Willis still left a big mark on the record, though. He played rhythm guitar on all 10 tracks (and helped co-write "Photograph", "Too Late for Love" "Comin' Under Fire" and "Billy's Got a Gun").
  It was a tough process for drummer Rick Allen as well, who was ostensibly replaced by a Fairlight instrument sampler (drum machine). The only thing Allen actually played on Pyromania were the cymbals.


 In terms of the songs themselves, the band went into the studio with only a bunch of riffs. The idea was to work directly with Lange to put the songs together, and the band ended up giving him songwriting credit on every track.



Two old Leppard song ideas resurfaced on the album. The first was the main riff and intro section of "Rock! Rock! (Till You Drop)" which were taken from the 1980 track "Medicine Man' – a song they performed live during much of the 1980 'On Through The Night' tour. The second was "Too Late For Love" which was a reworking of the live song "This Ship Sails Tonight" which the band had debuted on the December 1980 club tour of England. Die Hard The Hunter's main riff was written in 1980 during the band's debut US tour.

  When working on "Rock of Ages", the song didn't have any lyrics, so Elliott would just hum along with the riff. But then the band let a choir use the studio and Elliott found a hymn book they'd left behind on an organ. It was opened to the old hymn "Rock of Ages", so Elliott tried that as the chorus and Lange loved it.


 All the pain Def Leppard endured was well worth it in the end. Pyromania, released on January 20, 1983, would reach No.2 on the Billboard charts and No. 4 in Canada. Heck, if it wasn't for an album called Thriller by an artist named Michael Jackson, Pyromania would have gone to No. 1 in the US. It set the standard for mainstream metal in the 1980s and has now sold more than 10 million copies.




Def Leppard is an ENGLISH band from the steel-producing town of Sheffield. In 1977, Rick Savage, Tony Kenning and Pete Willis were already the members a rock band, called Atomic Mass. Originally, Willis was on guitar, Savage on the bass and Kenning on the drums. At that time, Joe Elliot was only 18 years old. He auditioned for the band as a guitarist. However, during the try out it was decided that Joe is a better singer than a guitarist. He was hired immediately as a lead-vocalist.



Joe Elliot proposed the band adopt a new name. He suggested they call themselves “Deaf Leopard” – a name he came up with while writing reviews for imaginary rock bands in his English class. Elliot was always dreaming about forming a band in school. He was creating song lists, band logos and band names while his classmates were studying. Kenning, however, suggested that they should alter the spelling of the name to “Def Leppard” in order to seem less punk rock. (P.S. The name was also a reference to the band Led Zeppelin.)




In January, 1978, guitarist Steve Clark successfully auditioned and eventually was accepted into the band. According to Joe Elliot, Steve Clark did a phenomenal job playing Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird” in its entirety, without accompaniment. Later on, Steve Clark would be know as the “riff master” for his ability to come up with tons of catchy tunes for the band.



Tony Kenning – their original drummer unexpectedly left the band in the beginning of 1978. The mother of Rick Allen, who was 14 back then was the one to actually respond to the ad placed by the band, looking for a new drummer (“Leppard loses skins” was the ad’s headline). On his fifteenth birthday – November 1st, 1978, Rick Allen joined the band and eventually dropped out of school. Today, he is known as the “thunder God”.



Their first concert was in 1978 in a high school gymnasium in their home town of Sheffield, England. It’s said that only about six people went to it. It is said that the band smuggled beer into the event by hiding it in the drum kit. 



Phil Collen – a former guitarist of the glam rock band called Girl was hired by the band in 1982 as a replacement of former guitarist Pete Willis. Pete Willis had to be released from the band because of his excessive alcohol and drug abuse.



[color=#000000]Phil Collen and Steve Clark became very close friends and were eventually given the nickname “The Terror Twins” (a reference to Aerosmith’s Toxic Twins).




The famous producer Mutt Lange is the mastermind behind Def Leppard’s High ‘N’ Dry (1981), Pyromania (1983) and Hysteria (1987). He was also the executive producer of Adrenalize (1992) and co-wrote “Ring of Fire” and “I Wanna Be Your Hero” from Retro Active, (1993) and “Promises”, “All Night” and “It’s Only Love” from Euphoria (1999).



Def Leppard’s ultimate hit single “Bringin’ on the Heartbreak” from their second album “High ‘n’ Dry” became one of the first rock videos to be played on MTV in 1982. The song’s working title was actually “A Certain Heartache” but they had it changed. 



Def Leppard’s ultimate hit single “Bringin’ on the Heartbreak” from their second album “High ‘n’ Dry” became one of the first rock videos to be played on MTV in 1982. The song’s working title was actually “A Certain Heartache” but they had it changed. 



Def Leppard is one of the few rock bands that have had two studio albums which sold more than 10 million copies in the USA alone. As many might guess, those two albums are Pyromania (1983) and Hysteria (1987).



Pyromania’s (1983) lead single “Photograph” is probably their most essential song, as it completely established the name and image of the band among the mainstream audience. The video for “Photograph” succeeded Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” as the most requested video on MTV. The song became a daily “must play” for every rock station and a standard for any hard rock song in the 80s.



Drummer Rick Allen lost his left arm in a car crash on 31st of December 1984, when he was racing in his Corvette outside the band’s home city of Sheffield. Rick flew through the windshield and his arm was ripped off by the seat belt. Despite the horrible disaster, Rick Allen was determined and fully committed to continuing his duties as Def Leppard’s drummer. Eventually, he realized that he could use his legs to play the drums. He worked with Simmons to design a special custom-made electronic drum kit. The other members were very supportive and never thought of replacing him with another drummer. In just a few months, the strength of Rick’s will and his enormous desire to make music resulted in his very powerful comeback. Allen gathered the other band members and played the intro to the Led Zeppelin’s version of “When the Levee Breaks” to show them his progress. According to Joe Elliot this was a very emotionally-intense moment for all of them.




The “Riff-Master” – guitarist Steve Clark died of a drug and alcohol overdose on January 8th, 1991.



One of the most unique accomplishments of the band was achieved on October 23th, 1995 – Def Leppard entered the Guinness Book of World Records by playing three 45-minute shows on three different continents. The performances were in Tangier, Morocco, London and Vancouver, Canada. The band decided to carry out this rather stressful and extraordinary situation in support of Vault (Greatest Hits 1980-1995).



On the September 5th, 2000, Def Leppard were inducted into the Rock Walk of Fame on Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood by their good friend Brian May of Queen.



Def Leppard have an album which includes only cover songs from their childhood years. The album is titled “Yeah!” and it pays tribute to artists such as Blondie, The Kinks, ELO and others.[/color] 

might give this a listen?




Up to date, Def Leppard has 11 Studio Albums, 2 live albums, 4 compilation albums, 8 video albums, 33 music videos, 50 singles and 18 concert tours. The band’s latest album called “Def Leppard” was released on the 30th of October last year and it debuted at number 10 on the Billboard charts. It became the band’s seventh album to peak at a top ten position on the chart. The first single from the album is called “Let’s Go”.




 
 

 

 

Just downloaded the Violent Femmes album the now. Great wee find courtesy of here. Braw stuff.

Just catching up.

The The - Soul Mining. Excellent album.

The REM album. Had no idea they had released stuff as early as '83. Will check it out.

japanarab wrote:

Just downloaded the Violent Femmes album the now. Great wee find courtesy of here. Braw stuff.

Gets better the more you listen to it in my humbles.
 

Album 518.
R.E.M...................................Murmer   (1983)












Well that forty odd minutes flew by, I really enjoyed that album, but in a background, "listening to music but getting on wi' things" kind way, I don't know if I would like it so much if I was just sitting there and focusing solely on the sounds and nothing else.


I hope that opening bit doesn't give the impression that I'm demeaning R.E.M. into a background "lounge lizard" type of band, the type of band that you talk over but are still there hanging aboot "like a cheap suit" when theres a lull in the conversation, no, R.E.M. are far better than that, maybe background wasn't the right word, maybe an album to accompany you while you're facing adversity, for instance painting the kitchen fir the umpteenth time, cause she who must be obeyed opines "the lights different in the Summer" I'm sure my kitchen is a lot smaller than when we moved in, the amount of coats of paint it's had ffs, and how many fuckin' shades of cream is there in the world? (unbelievable the names they come up with, probably the same fuckers who talk of "cockwombles," "spunktrumpets," and "wankpuffins," no being funny but if one of your mates came out with that pish in the boozer you'd red card the cunt and get him a taxi)


Sorry went a wee bit off topic there, but have to tell you Mrs Chanter came in the night loaded with paint pots, brushes and rollers, and had the audacity to say "I was thinking," no the truth of the matter is you've thought, set a plan in motion and carried it out to the fait accompli stage, that's my weekend sorted thank you very much,,,,,breathe, that's better.


Now about this album, not a dull track on it, I particularly like Stipes vocal delivery, probably no' abidees cup of tea, could be found to be a bit nasally in some quarters, but I found it very distinctive and probably what I like best about the band along with the jangly music (no Byrds jangly thank fuck) that dovetailed with the baritone Stipe's delivery.


I was like Tek in that I never new they had been going since '83. I thought "Automatic for the People" was pretty novel and most of the people I knew back then had never heard of them, anyways,"Murmer's" a good album, not overproduced which is always a plus in my book, lyrically sound, the music didn't drown out the singer and vice versa, all the tracks were of a high standard, but if I had to choose favourites then "We Walk," "Laughing," and by far the outstanding track for this listener "Talk About the Passion"


R.E.M. for me at least, set their stall out early and didn't deviate 'til the day they split, and why should they, the had a winning formula which stood the test of time, I can never understand those bands that try and go full circle and "expand and experiment, push the boundaries man," it's like weddings, I've been to a load over the years but lately there seems to be this thing where the bride gets her hair done in some weird curly ringlet shit that the groom has never seen before and make up trowled on by Becky the checkout operator at Tesco who thinks she's a Hollywood make up artist, and the poor groom when he lifts thon veil is like who the fuck are you, you're no' meh burd, meh bird had straight hair and didnae look like Simon Weston wi' blue eye shadow!


I think what I'm trying to get at is, R.E.M. knew what they were, no need to change, and if you listened to the radio, you knew fine well if an R.E.M. record came on, as it should be, know what you are and deliver, job done.



After all  that, this album wont be going int my record collection, I will be downloading it and filing it into my "getting on with things" list, but who knows in the future.


Sorry for the waffling tonight,but had few and sometimes my fingers run away from me. 




Bits & Bobs;




Rolling Stone Review.Murmur      May 26, 1983 4:00AM ET
By Steve Pond


R.E.M.’s Chronic Town EP was one of last year’s more invigorating, tuneful surprises: a record from an Athens, Georgia, band that cared not a whit for the fashionable quirks of that town’s dance-rock outfits like the B-52’s or Pylon. R.E.M. fashioned its own smart, propulsive sound out of bright pop melodies, a murky, neopsychedelic atmosphere and a host of late-Sixties pop-rock touches. The execution wasn’t always up to the ideas — instrumentally, the band was still stumbling at times — but Chronic Town served notice that R.E.M. was an outfit to watch. Murmur is the record on which they trade that potential for results: an intelligent, enigmatic, deeply involving album, it reveals a depth and cohesiveness to R.E.M. that the EP could only suggest. 
 Murmur is a darker record than Chronic Town, but this band’s darkness is shot through with flashes of bright light. Vocalist Michael Stipe’s nasal snarl, Mike Mills’ rumbling bass and Bill Berry’s often sharp, slashing drums cast a cloudy, postpunk aura that is lightened by Peter Buck’s folk-flavored guitar playing. Many of the songs have vague, ominous settings, a trait that’s becoming an R.E.M. trademark. But not only is there a sense of detachment on the record — these guys, as one song title says, “Talk about the Passion” more often than they experience it — but the tunes relentlessly resist easy scanning. There’s no lyric sheet, Stipe slurs his lines, and they even pick a typeface that’s hard to read. But beyond that elusiveness is a restless, nervous record full of false starts and images of movement, pilgrimage, transit.


 In the end, though, what they’re saying is less fascinating than how they say it, and Murmur‘s indelible appeal results from its less elusive charms: the alternately anthemic and elegiac choruses of such stubbornly rousing tunes as “Laughing” and “Sitting Still”; instrumental touches as apt as the stately, elegant piano in the ballad “Perfect Circle” and the shimmering folkish guitar in “Shaking Through”; above all, an original sound placed in the service of songs that matter. R.E.M. is clearly the important Athens band.



 How Debut Album ‘Murmur’ Spread The Word About R.E.M.
The record R.E.M. emerged with remains one of the most compelling and otherworldly debut albums in rock history. Filler-free and the passing of time have merely added to the record’s timeless allure.



 In December 1987, North America’s most prestigious rock publication, Rolling Stone, granted R.E.M. the front cover and proclaimed them to be “America’s Best Rock & Roll Band”. Just four and a half years after the release of their debut album, Murmur, the band’s dynamic fifth album, Document, had zoomed up to No.10 on the Billboard 200. Within another five years, they would be one of the biggest bands on the planet.



 R.E.M.’s gradual, but surefooted rise to global stardom has been well-documented, but like their arena-rock contemporaries The Cure and Simple Minds, the Athens, Georgia-based quartet were first galvanised into action by punk’s lo-fi, DIY philosophy. A mutual appreciation of stellar punk and post-punk-era acts, including Patti Smith and Television, first firmed up the bond of friendship between vocalist Michael Stipe and guitarist Peter Buck, who put R.E.M. together with the addition of bassist Mike Mills and Bill Berry.

   

  
The embryonic band made their live debut at a friend’s birthday party in a converted Episcopal church in Athens, on 5 April 1980. The foursome then spent much of the next 18 months building a following the old-fashioned way, crisscrossing the southern US playing grassroots-level shows and feverishly writing strings of songs.



 The band’s first real foray into a recording studio resulted in a well-received demo overseen by producer Mitch Easter at Drive-In Studios in North Carolina. In remixed form, two tracks from this session, ‘Radio Free Europe’ and ‘Sitting Still’, made up R.E.M.’s vinyl debut in July 1981, when the two songs were issued as a single on local Athens imprint, Hib-Tone.



 Selling out its 1,000-only pressing, ‘Radio Free Europe’ made sizeable waves, with the highly respected New York Times even including the record in its Ten Best Singles Of The Year round-up. Meanwhile, R.E.M.’s original Mitch Easter-produced demo continued to open doors for them. A copy of it eventually found its way to IRS Records, whose suitably impressed co-owners, Miles Copeland III and Jay Boberg, quickly stepped in to sign the band.




 IRS introduced R.E.M. to the wider world with a mini-LP, Chronic Town, released in August 1982. Again recorded at Easter’s garage studio, this naïve yet glorious record included long-term fan favourites ‘Gardening At Night’, ‘Carnival Of Sorts (Box Cars)’ and ‘Wolves, Lower’, and introduced the band’s signature sound, with Mike Mills’ driving, melodic basslines playing counterpoint to Peter Buck’s jangly, arpeggiated guitar, and Michael Stipe’s soft, mumbled vocal delivery piquing the interest of critics on both sides of the Atlantic.




 With Chronic Town garnering positive media attention and racking up healthy sales of around 20,000 copies, IRS were keen to issue the band’s debut album. Initial sessions began late in 1982, but the label insisted on pairing the group with a new, high-profile producer in Stephen Hague(OMD,PIL, New Order), who placed the emphasis squarely on studio perfection. Though an excellent technician on his own terms, Hague’s methods were ill-suited to the still relatively inexperienced R.E.M. Bill Berry, especially, lost confidence after Hague forced the band to perform multiple takes of ‘Catapult’, and the producer later decided to take the completed song to Synchro Sound in Boston where he overlaid it with keyboards without the band’s permission.




 Unhappy with the turn of events, R.E.M, requested the opportunity to record their debut with Mitch Easter. After an initial “try out” session yielded a successful version of the song ‘Pilgrimage’, IRS relented and gave R.E.M. the green light to hook up with Easter and his production partner, Don Dixon.





 Stipe and company had previously worked with Easter at his garage studio in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, but for the Murmur sessions, they moved 80 miles further south to Reflection Studios in Charlotte, a 24-track facility whose principal clients were US televangelists Jim and Tammy Bakker’s Praise The Lord Club. The studio’s lack of rock’n’roll credentials, however, didn’t faze R.E.M. in the slightest.




 “We wanted to do it in the South with people who were fresh at making rock’n’roll records,” Peter Buck later told Rolling Stone. “In Charlotte, we could sit up all night and mess around, have ideas and not worry too much.”




 R.E.M. had written and performed most of Murmur’s 12 songs live during 1980-81 and had already agreed on a track sequence before they entered the studio. The quartet were also adamant that they wished to eschew rock music clichés such as grandiose guitar solos and the (then on-trend) synthesisers so beloved of Stephen Hague. In most cases, the songs’ basic tracks were laid down relatively quickly and Stipe generally recorded his vocals in a darkened stairwell off to the side of the main studio.




 For their part, Dixon and Easter were happy to provide technical expertise and tighten things up as required, but in general, the pair cheerfully indulged R.E.M.’s experimental approach. As Dixon told Rolling Stone: “It was a unique combination of people, where there was enough tension and enough cohesiveness. We were dealing with a fragile sort of art concept and trying to bring in a little pop sensibility without beating it up.”




 “They [Dixon and Easter] were instrumental in teaching us how to use the studio,” Peter Buck later acknowledged. “We spent most of our time finding interesting ideas and sounds like strange percussion things, banging on table legs… I’d play acoustic guitar and then take the guitar off and leave the reverb on with the delay, so that it was ghostly and strange.”





The record R.E.M. emerged with remains one of the most compelling and otherworldly debut albums in rock history. Buck’s chiming, Byrds-esque guitars and Stipe’s elliptical lyrics and slurred delivery have frequently been singled out for attention, but all four members of the band played crucial roles, with Mills’ melodic basslines and Berry’s expressive drumming (and the duo’s intuitive harmony vocals) equally essential to the shape of R.E.M.’s singular DNA. Among the record’s cachet of brittle, introspective treats are the glorious ‘Talk About The Passion’, the haunting, piano-led ‘Perfect Circle’ and the nervous, jittery ‘9-9’, but Murmur’s tracklist remains staunchly filler-free and the passing of time has merely added to the record’s timeless allure.




Housed in a suitably enigmatic sleeve depicting a field covered with kudzu vines (known locally as “the vine that ate the South”), Murmur was released on 12 April 1983 and attracted substantial media acclaim. Awarding the album four stars, Rolling Stone’s Steve Pond asserted that “Murmur is the record on which [R.E.M.] trade potential for results: an intelligent, enigmatic, deeply involving album, it reveals a depth and cohesiveness to R.E.M.”, while The Village Voice’s Robert Christgau declared “they’re an art band, nothing more or less – and a damn smart one!”




Murmur’s most direct and anthemic track, a punchier, re-recorded version of ‘Radio Free Europe’ was selected as the album’s lead single and rose to No.78 on the Billboard singles chart. The album itself fared better, peaking at No.36 on the Billboard 200, selling 200,000 copies across 1983 and eventually gaining a gold certification in 1991. Remarkably, the introspective Murmur also went on to beat off the challenge of multi-million-selling mainstream releases such as Michael Jackson’s Thriller,The Polices Synchronicity and U2’s War to scoop Rolling Stone’s prestigious Album Of The Year Award for 1983.




 R.E.M. played a lengthy US tour supporting UK ska-pop trailblazers The English Beat (aka The Beat, back home) which straddled the release of Murmur. The band’s relentless schedule continued throughout the summer of ’83, with their own headlining tour of North America touching down in prestigious venues such as The Ritz in New York, the Old Waldorf in San Francisco, and Detroit’s St Andrew’s Hall. During this run of shows, Stipe and company took legendary names of the future, such as The Replacements, out on the road as their warm-up acts.




 National television debuts at home (Tonight With David Letterman) and abroad (The Tube in the UK), in addition to the group’s first European tour, presaged R.E.M.’s reunion with Mitch Easter and Don Dixon, and the start of the sessions which resulted in the band’s sophomore release, April ’84’s Reckoning.



 
Songwriting credits (and royalties) are shared equally regardless of who wrote the song. This is one reason they have been around so long, as many bands have broken up over who gets writing credits.


 
Stipe produced the 1999 movie Being John Malkovich. He is often mistaken for Malkovich.


 
R.E.M. did two MTV "Unplugged" specials. The first was in 1991, the second in 2001.


 
Stipe used to claim that he could predict earthquakes. He said he got a nasty headache a few days before they hit.


 
When the band was asked if REM stood for Rapid Eye Movement, they said, "REM stands for nothing, but will lie down for anything."


 
Stipe had scarlet fever when he was 2.


 
Mills and Berry were in a lounge act with their high school music teacher. They would dress up and play at weddings and country clubs. But at least they could play. Stipe once explained: "When we started out, Buck couldn't really play the guitar and I couldn't sing. We were like a speed metal band when we started."


 
Stipe studied painting and photography at the University of Georgia in Athens, Georgia, where the band formed. The band contributes a lot of money and time to keeping Athens beautiful.


 
They don't print lyrics with their albums. Stipe explained that fans often have better interpretations than the actual words.


 
Berry quit the band in 1997 after he suffered a near fatal brain aneurysm. He decided to take life at a slower pace and became a farmer. Every now and then he would play with R.E.M. at live shows.


 
Stipe's sister, Linda, was in a band called Oh-OK with Matthew Sweet around the same time R.E.M. was forming.


Michael Stipe has discussed his sexuality from time to time, but prefers not to. In a 2001 Time magazine story, he said he had been in a relationship with a man for the last three years. Ten years later, he told The Observer, "I definitely prefer men to women."


 
Stipe and Natalie Merchant were a romantic couple in the late '80s when Natalie was lead singer of 10,000 Maniacs.


 
They originally called themselves the Twisted Kites before deciding on the name R.E.M. while flipping through a dictionary.


 
They were named "Best Band in America" by Rolling Stone magazine in 1987.


 
Disgusted with an early video, Stipe swore off lip-synching in videos for the duration of the 1980s.


 
In his spare time, Michael Stipe enjoys making replicas of everyday objects that interest him using bronze or birch plywood. His sculptures include a Polaroid camera, a microcassette and a newspaper.


 
On September 21, 2011, R.E.M. issued a statement on their website, declaring that they were "calling it a day as a band." Asked by Rolling Stone how the breakup came about, Peter Buck recalled:




"We were doing the last record, [2011's] Collapse Into Now. We hadn't made an announcement or anything. We got together, and Michael said, 'I think you guys will understand. I need to be away from this for a long time.' And I said, 'How about forever?' Michael looked at Mike, and Mike said, 'Sounds right to me.' That's how it was decided."


 
Peter Buck played the same black Rickenbacker guitar on every single R.E.M record. He told Mojo in 2017: "That's the only physical thing of ownership that I would miss if it was gone. It got stolen on the last R.E.M tour and we had to ransom it back. I really didn't like the idea of some creep-thief holding it."




"Talk About the Passion"


This was the second single from R.E.M.'s debut album, Murmur.


 
The guitar melody/solo actually comes from multiple acoustic guitars played by Mike Mills, Peter Buck, and producers Mitch Easter and Don Dixon.


 
Michael Stipe explained the song's French influence in the compilation Part Lies, Part Heart, Part Truth, Part Garbage 1982-2011: "I had taken a French course at college, which I dutifully flunked out of, and Linda Hopper and I thought that the phrase, 'combien de temps,' that is, roughly, 'how much time?' was deeply meaningful and beautiful. I did sing it that way and it works here, if only here. We were 22 at the time after all." Hopper, a fellow musician and University of Georgia student, also founded the band Oh-Ok with Stipe's sister, Lynda, on bass guitar.


 
The 1988 video, directed by Jem A. Cohen, expounds on the lyrics' references to hunger ("empty bread, empty mouths") by juxtaposing images of homeless people with a multi-million dollar warship.

Last edited by arabchanter (05/6/2019 1:23 am)

Day 520.
Tom Waits...............................................Swordfishtrombones   (1983)









The first in a trilogy of classic albums (including Rain Dogs and Frank's Wild Yea
rs) Swordfishtrombones was Tom Waits' original experiment with his own production, and raw, live instrumentation. He also approaches a more avant-garde and unique songwriting style, a departure from his string and piano ballads utilized earlier on in his discography.


 The album would go on to be cited as one of the greatest, such as when Spin named it the second greatest album of all time in 1989, just 6 years after its initial release. It was also listed by Pitchfork as the 11th best album of the 80s.


 The instrumentation of the album is very unique, as it ranges from heavy guitar strumming to light organs and string quartets, all behind Waits' memorable and distinctive voice.


 Tom also adds a narrative to the album about his wife, musician Kathleen Brennan, whom he married in 1980. They had an intense relationship, and sources say Kathleen kept a close eye on his work, which is most likely what motivated him to include her in his storytelling.


 Citing multiple pieces from interviews with Tom and David Smay (the author of  the book Swordfishtrombones), PopMatters gave a brief explanation behind the overall concept of the album:


It is about the chunky stew of influences Waits absorbed, some – like the No Wave movement in 1980 New York – we haven’t heard much about before. It is also about how Tom Waits is constantly lying to us, and somehow being truthful at the same time. Smay, like Waits, often allows himself to indulge in extended metaphors and symbol-heavy tales with the artist as their weary hero.



It all comes together to show not what Swordfishtrombones is, but more what it can do. Smay can hardly contain himself on the page, and he lets his ideas run wild, giving us a mosaic of a Tom Waits that we haven’t quite seen before. Where Kathleen (his wife) was Tom’s muse for the album, the album is Smay’s muse to discuss the idea of inevitable confession. That sometimes, no matter how art tries to break from representation, it still stands for something. And while it’s hard to guess what that something is on Swordfishtrombones, Smay acts as a side-mouth talking tour guide leading us through the darkness, giving us flashlights so we can illuminate the parts to love the whole we never quite see.

PatReilly wrote:

Not a big fan of these last few albums, but that's music. Just writing this to show I'm still paying attention 

Good lad Pat, that's good to know
 

Album 519.
The The.......................................Soul Mining   (1983)













Soul Mining is a fine album, having the pleasure of painting all weekend I had the pleasure of listening to this several times, and have to say it was a good listen, although you don't want to listen too intently to the lyrics as they could fill you with despair. Matt Johnson has a very decent voice which I think lends itself well to his brilliant but somewhat poignant/sad but always on the money wordsmithery, that sometimes just leave you with a glimmer of hope that maybe it will be alright.



On this album he's backed by a fine set of talented musicians that gives the album a well textured feel, all in all this album grew on me , although even from the get go it sounded like an old friend you feel totally comfortable with,and yet for this listener the fact you probably could date this quite easily it didn't sound dated.


I particularly enjoyed "I've Been Waitin' for Tomorrow (All of My Life)" the wonderful "This Is the Day" but the best track for me was "The Sinking Feeling" which I found lyrically outstanding, but I enjoyed all the numbers on this album, even the closing track "Giant" that came in at just over nine and half minutes didn't bore me, so if I could listen to that I must have enjoyed the album as a whole, and another brilliant album cover (reminds me of Nina Simone) so this album will be going into my collection.




Bits & Bobs;

Originally released on 21st October 1983, the recording of ‘Soul Mining’ began in the spring of 1982, when the then 20-year old Matt Johnson, de-camped to New York to record ‘Uncertain Smile’ with producer Mike Thorne and ‘Perfect’ with David Johansen of the New York Dolls, resulted in ‘Perfect’, yet both sessions, and his deal with London Records, were subsequently scrapped as THE THE controversially switched to CBS Records and decided to start the album afresh.


 Work on the album was reconvened at John Foxx’s Garden Studios in the then pre-gentrified Shoreditch area of London with Matt co-producing with Paul Hardiman – the album was subsequently mixed at Martin Rushent’s Genetic Sound studio.


 Featuring a host of talented musicians, including JG Thirwell (aka Foetus, Manorexia and Steroid Maximus), Zeke Manyika (Orange Juice), electronic DIY pioneer Thomas Leer and Jools Holland, Johnson set out with a clear vision in mind – to produce an album that felt cinematic; a record of width, depth and texture and one which avoided the mundane line-up of two guitars, bass and drums.




 In retrospect, the eighties have often been greeted with an air of sarcasm. The mainstream audience tends to scoff at anything that was released in the era. However, there has been an apparent increase in the popularity of the fluorescent dance music of the eighties in alternative music culture, with artists such as M83 and Chvrches spawning a fresh new interpretation. While the influence may only be stylistic, the sound of The The seems to resemble this trendy new eighties resurgence more than most other groups of the era. This is perhaps due to the fact that The The’s stark, eccentric sound has dated rather modestly, considering the amount of stylistic conventions that are used in this album. The juxtaposition of sounds and themes in The The’s music is obviously a positive addition to their overall sound, creating a unique touch.




Soul Mining is very much an angsty teenage album. Each track is splattered in emotional narrative, with themes of isolation, existential crises and unrequited love taking to the foreground in the lyrical content. That is not to say that the album is in any way unlistenable to the more carefree listener, in fact, the album’s catchy hooks and generally uptempo rhythmic drive make it accessible to any fan of the genre.




The album begins with the raucous “I’ve Been Waitin’ For Tomorrow”, a track which quickly establishes the general aesthetic of the album. From the countdown that begins this opening track, we are introduced to a minimalistic 80s dance beat that lasts for the duration of the song, and the characteristically sombre poetry of singer and lyricist Matt Johnson. The track swiftly progresses into an urgent flurry of synthesised sirens and anxious lyrics, providing a dramatic introduction to the album. While the best is yet to come, “This is the Day” remains one of the highlights of the album. The overall lyrical message of this song is so ambiguous that it is difficult to pinpoint the exact emotions that it evokes, however the upbeat and friendly music appears to be somewhat ironic against the apparent passiveness of the vocals. The accordion hook is really something, adding a strangely lively and feel-good flavour to the overall sound. The next track, “The Sinking Feeling”, really acts as a sign, pointing in the direction that the rest of the album follows. This track has a clearer lyrical contention, one of depression and anxiety, more specifically the pessimistic narrative of a teenager facing an existential crisis. The music in this song is driven by an uneasy synth riff and the reverb-drenched guitar of Johnny Marr, with the ironic addition of an up-tempo rhythmic pattern that is driven by keyboard claps and tambourine. Matt Johnson really shows off the expressive characteristics of his vocals in this track.




And then comes the outstanding highlight, “Uncertain Smile”, a heartfelt song that reflects the feelings of unrequited love with a fittingly dour narrative. Even the subtle synthesiser that marks the very beginning of the track seems significant to those who await the thunderous piano solo. This track is drenched in the reverberations of Johnny Marr’s acoustic guitar hook, which adds a more organic touch to the overall sound. The lyrics here are of subtle beauty, reflecting the feelings of unrequited love in second person narrative with both despair and a dramatic acceptance. The icing on the cake of this treasure is of course the dramatic piano solo from Jools Holland, which tops this subtle piece of art with a dramatic melancholy.




“The Twilight Hour” continues this album in a rather brooding step into the lyrical realms of personal bitterness. This track has one of the most interesting beats in the album, and a consistent keyboard riff to accompany. The lyrics tell of reliance and attachment in a relationship, and the vocal delivery is spectacular. This track is followed by the brooding title track. As the title track, “Soul Mining” indicates the true emotions that lie at the core of this album; despair, bitterness, and a maudlin sentimentality. The narrative is a very sombre reflection on personal feelings and experiences, a little less anecdotal and specific than the previous track, but still emotive and brooding. The final track, “Giant”, ends the album on an upbeat note, with an up-tempo drumbeat that gives momentum back to the album. The lyrics here are just as maudlin as the rest of the album, but the stable and catchy rhythms in the accompaniment give life to this extensive dance track. Johnson ends his vocal duties with a fittingly uncertain message, “How can anyone know me, when I don’t even know myself"”. This line is delivered with enthusiasm and vigor, a truly excellent conclusion to the album. The rest of the track is a repetition of the rhythmic drum pattern and chanting, accompanied by a warm synth sound to resolve the tension left by Johnson’s final calls of confusion.




Overall, this release is a very coherent mix of dance tracks, but the lyrical content and vocal delivery make the album much more than an ambitious pop album. What is displayed here is not only an excellent array of danceable compositions, but an obvious aptitude in the musicianship. While the vocal delivery on side two is more emotive, I prefer side one for it’s strong compositions and catchy hooks. The obvious standout track is “Uncertain Smile”, a masterpiece by any standard.




Soul Mining is a superb album, and is a worthy addition to any popular music collection.




It's worth noting that, 31 years ago, the critics unanimously thought it was an album for the ages: reviews of the "most important pop artist of the decade" proliferated. Indeed, Soul Mining must have seemed weirdly unprecedented in 1983, even in the unlikely event that you had been paying close attention to Matt Johnson's career up to that point.
  He had started out in 1977, posting small ads in the music press in search of musicians. They mentioned Syd Barrett and Throbbing Gristle as influences, and that's pretty much exactly what his early releases sounded like. Recorded with Wire's Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis, the 1981 album Burning Blue Soul and single Cold Spell Ahead offered up a kind of post-punk take on psychedelia, refracted through Throbbing Gristle's forbidding worldview: trebly guitars and dead-eyed Madcap Laughs vocals both drenched in effects, churning grey noise and primitive sound collages. They bore almost no resemblance whatsoever to the music on Soul Mining. When Cold Spell Ahead reappeared here under the name Uncertain Smile, it was virtually unrecognisable, the primeval drum machine and echoing guitar murk replaced by a flawless, rich production involving crack session players. Johnson played marimba, and his voice had changed from reedy and blank-eyed into something deeper and more emotive. The ungainly second half of the song had been excised in favour of a sumptuous extended piano solo from Jools Holland. The latter is a genuinely astonishing performance, marred only by the vague fear that a lightbulb may have gone on over the former Squeeze keyboard player's head while he was playing it – "I can play boogie woogie piano along with anything!" – and that the whole business may thus have planted the seed that flourished into the annual grimness of the Hootenany.


 In fact, circumstances had conspired to make the change in Johnson's music look more sudden and extraordinary that it actually was: he'd recorded, then abandoned, a whole album of intermediate material between Burning Blue Soul and Soul Mining. Even so, the latter still seems like a startling album. Johnson was only 22 when Soul Mining was released. The lyrics contained the occasional hint of histrionic gaucheness – "the cancer of love has eaten out my heart" seems a pretty melodramatic way to say you got dumped – but more often they're strikingly precocious: Uncertain Smile's brilliant drawing of a confused relationship, The Twilight Hour's painfully accurate depiction of self-obsession. In fact, they often feel more nuanced and mature than the lyrics Johnson wrote later, when he developed an alarming tendency to say inarguable things about war and religion in a slightly pompous and condescending manner that made you wonder if you didn't feel like arguing about them after all. There's a wit and ambiguity about That Sinking Feeling's sly mockery of the Thatcher government's ethical crusades – "I'm just a symptom of the moral decay that's gnawing at the heart of this country," he sang, the sweet harmony vocal on the last word sounding like a musical wink to camera – that seemed to desert Johnson later on.


 More striking still is the ease with which Johnson marshals a kaleidoscopic array of musical influences into something coherent and unique. Quite aside from Holland's boogie-woogie piano, over the course of Soul Mining's seven tracks, you variously hear folk fiddles and accordion, the popping basslines of contemporary funk, punishing industrial beats, electronics derived from New York's then current club music – both the post-disco boogie of the Peech Boys and D-Train and the electro of Newcleus and the Jonzun Crew – and African-inspired polyrhythms. But Soul Mining never sounds disjointed, never feels like an exercise in smart-alec showboating: Johnson's songwriting holds its disparate elements tightly together.


 Curiously, all this eclecticism had the same chemical fuel as the similarly open-minded Balearic dance scene that would arrive half a decade on. Years later, Johnson would bemoan the fact that Soft Cell's Non Stop Ecstatic Dancing had beaten Soul Mining to the title of the first ecstasy album. Like his Some Bizzare labelmates, he was ahead of the curve when it came to MDMA: indeed, he consumed it so enthusiastically during Soul Mining's making that one set of recording sessions in New York had to be abandoned altogether. If it offers no reference as blatant as Cindy Ecstasy's rap on Non-Stop Ecstatic Dancing's Memorabilia, you can still make out the drug's influence on the euphoric communal chant that closes Giant, the horizontal, beatific atmosphere of the title track and the bittersweet cocktail of fuzzy elation and fragile introspection with which This Is the Day greets the sun rising after a long night.


 An album made under the influence of a largely unknown drug that five years later would go on to change pop culture for ever, a patchwork of catholic musical influences stitched tightly together by one man's peculiar, expansive vision of pop: Soul Mining is a brilliant and very idiosyncratic album. Maybe that's why it's never really cited as an influence these days: you can't hope to mimic something this personal and unique.




"This Is the Day"



As well as new wave, post-punk and the other usual tags, the The were given their own genre: existential blues. Johnson was never quite sure about the epithet, but he had to concede the opening line of This Is the Day (“Well, you didn’t wake up this morning / ’cause you didn’t go to bed”) was reminiscent of blues legend BB King. Despite the gloomy opening gambit, This Is the Day is unusually optimistic in places; or at least the titular carpe diem is, abetted by a chipper accordion and fiddle transposed over a shuffling, lo-fi beat. “[It] centred around someone I’m sure loads of people can identify with – living in the past, clinging to memories, wallowing and wasting his life away,” Johnson told NME in 1983. “Then this voice of hope thrusts out within him shouting, ‘Yeah, this is the day everything’ll change.’ It’s cynical in the sense that there’s a danger of him just dreaming about doing something and not actually doing it, but the mood it’s in is almost pedantic, it sort of rouses hope. Maybe it’ll make people get off their arses and go and live a bit.”



 "Uncertain Smile"In 1979, Matt Johnson placed an advert in NME looking for likeminded fans of the Velvet Underground, the Residents and Throbbing Gristle to form a band with him. The The started life as a duo, then a four-piece, then a singular entity with a rotating cast of musicians that has included Johnny Marr, Simon Fisher Turner and Gail Ann Dorsey. (“I like to think of the The as a fluid thing,” Johnson told Melody Maker in 1993. “People can work with me, then stop for a bit, then work again.”) His own commercial breakthrough came with Uncertain Smile, reaching No 68 in the charts in 1982, and it represented an even bigger breakthrough for him as a songwriter: it ushered in a rich period of cerebral pop songs that married evocative lyrics with saleable melodies. Recorded for the album Soul Mining, this great song became a classic thanks to a staggering extended piano outro by Jools Holland. The former Squeeze man apparently turned up to the studio in summer dressed in full leathers and riding a vintage Norton motorbike. Once inside, he hammered out the improv on a baby grand in one take – but for a drop in at the end – before promptly leaving. “Me and [producer Paul] Hardiman were just … well, you know when you’ve got something,” Johnson told said when Soul Mining was reissued in 2014.


 
This late night brooder about unrequited love was originally released in 1981 in a different form and titled "Cold Spell Ahead." It was re-recorded in 1982 in New York as "Uncertain Smile" in 1982 after The The had been signed by Epic Records in the USA. That version, which featured flutes and a saxophone solo from session player Crispin Cioe peaked at #68 on the UK singles chart.


 
The most-familiar version, which was recorded for the Soul Mining album, replaced the saxophone with a lengthy Jazz piano solo by Squeeze's Jools Holland (better known now as the host of BBC' TV's music show Later). Asked by Uncut magazine August 2014 how they got Holland to play on the track, The The mainman Matt Johnson replied: "The garden (studios) had this beautiful little Yamaha C3 Baby Grand, and the decision was, 'We have this fantastically long outro for 'Uncertain Smile.' We need to put this piano on something. Who do we know who can play it? Jools showed up, cool as a cucumber despite the sweltering heat, dressed in leathers, and he was absolutely charming."



"I think he had one run-through, said, 'Let's go for it,' and laid the whole thing down," Johnson added. "There was just one drop-in we did towards the end. We were amazed. He told me years later, he gets asked about that more than anything he's ever done."


 




"The Twilight Hour"

 
Speaking to Mojo magazine August 2014, The The mainman Matt Johnson said this was the "most painful" Soul Mining track for him to listen to now. He explained: "I wanted this sense of sweltering heat, claustrophobia, emotional paranoia. The anxiety and insecurity of a new relationship. I think I got that."


"But the lyric 'cutting chunks from your heart and rubbing the meat from your eyes...,' that's really over the top," he continued. "I was a kid when I wrote that."


 
The song features cello played by Martin McCarrick, who would go on to be a member of Siouxsie and the Banshees from 1987 until 1995.



 


Edit to say, there's mention of Johnny Marr playing on this  album  in one of the Bits & Bob's,
but from what I can gather he never joined until 1988, 5 years after the album was recorded, so I think that could well be wrong.
 

Last edited by arabchanter (13/6/2019 3:20 pm)

Day 520.
Tom Waits...............................................Swordfishtrombones   (1983)













This will be the third Tom Waits album I have listened to from the book, I still find the first one "Nighthawks At The Diner" is my favourite as I enjoyed it from start to finish even it being a double fuckin' album, this one's first side was a bit too experimental for me and I really didn't enjoy it all, conversely side two was more up my street, great lyrics backed by his inimitable delivery, this man is an uber racantour, painting vivid imagined visuals with his storytelling, my favourite track is the haunting "Frank's Wild Years." 

Side two would be the only side I would play as I thoroughly enjoyed it, but side one naaaa, so this album wont be going into my collection, but as I think I like Tom Waits I'm going to put "Nighthawks At The Diner" into my vinyl collection, and download the tracks I like for my shuffle.




Bits & Bobs;

Have written quite a bit already about Tom Waits in posts #1299 & #1783 (if interested)



RollingStone          November 24, 1983 5:00AM ET
Swordfishtrombones  

By Don Shewey

Tom Waits’ new album is so weird that Asylum Records decided not to release it, but it’s so good that Island was smart enough to pick it up. Half of the fifteen cuts — the dirty blues, poetry recitals and odd instrumentals — would not sound out of place on a Captain Beefheart album. The rest of the record consists of gorgeous Waitsian melodies, which haven’t been collected in such quantity since his ten-year-old debut album.


 It’s easy to forget that Tom Waits is one of the great American pop songwriters. His voice is so ravaged that his albums have often been cluttered and overproduced in order to compensate. On the self-produced Swordfish trombones, Waits wisely sticks to spare accompaniment, which allows his rough-hewn voice to achieve a real tenderness. As for the songs, many of them feature men who are caught up, broken down or separated from loved ones by war. In “Soldier’s Things,” the saddest song on the album and Waits’ most stunning composition in years, a mother is having a yard sale: “A tinker, a tailor/A soldier’s things/His rifle, his boots full of rocks/And this one is for bravery, and this one is for me/Everything’s a dollar in this box.” Of course, it wouldn’t be a Tom Waits album without the rhymes (“He got twenty years for lovin’ her/From some Oklahoma governor”) and deadbeat humor. “Frank’s Wild Years” contains a hilarious monologue about a guy cutting out on his wife, “a spent piece of used jet trash [with] a little Chihuahua named Carlos/That had some kind of skin disease/And was totally blind.” The combination of weirdness, heartfelt lyrics and haunting instrumentals adds up to a superior LP and an opportunity to rediscover Tom Waits.



"Underground"

 The first thought one gets is that the song suggests some sort of underworld were a kind of creatures live under our feet, engaging in mysterious activities “while the rest of the world is asleep”.


 A theory about what these creatures might be can be found in this video of a interview of Tom Waits, where he has an apparent fixation for moles, (https://youtu.be/SyrDfCSZJmI)  It’s an interview from 1988, and he describes the “most elaborate system of mole catacombs”, which is apparently to be found under Stonehenge.

 Now there’s a possibility that Waits at one time read an article of sorts about these mole systems, and found it so interesting that he decided to carry it with him, eventually writing a song about it.

It’s possible, but who knows. Tom’s imagination is quite a phenomenon.




"16 Shells from a Thirty-Ought Six"

 According to 1983 interviews, Waits wanted a sort of chain gang, work song feel to this track – which explains the metallic clangs and crashes.

 At least six years before Swordfishtrombones was released, this song started as a lyric about a farmer who shoots sixteen shells into the belly of a scarecrow out of frustration during a drought. A “Thirty-Ought-Six” is a .30-06 Springfield rifle cartridge.



"Swordfishtrombone"



This The Quitus article explains how before this album, Tom Waits was a more conventional artist whose act needed to be refreshed to satisfy him. He met a woman named Kathleen Brennan who introduced him to the music Captain Beefheart, which heavily influenced the record. Arranger Francis Thrumm suggested a lot of the unconventional instruments used on the record and introduced Tom Waits to the music of Harry Partch, who preferred to use obscure or invented instruments in his music.



I may have done some of these facts already, my humblest apologies for the repetition if I have.

 Tom Waits met his future wife, Kathleen Brennan, on the set of One From the Heart. She was working as a script analyst at the movie studio. They married in August 1980 and now have three children, Casey, Kelly and Sullivan, the oldest of whom, Casey Waits (21), is the drummer on his father’s current tour.


 Tom Waits was once quotes as saying, “I wasn’t thrilled by Blue Cheer, so I found an alternative, even if it was Bing Crosby” His very favorite sound is silence; his favorite album is The Best of Marcel Marceau, which features 40 minutes of silence.


 Tom Waits was nominated for an Oscar for his soundtrack to the 1980 Francis Ford Coppola film One From the Heart.



 Although his songs would indicate that he was a bit of a loner, he resided at this rock ‘n’ roll hang out in 1975. The hotel also served as the temporary abode of Jim Morrison, Blondie and Led Zeppelin. The Tropicana was torn down in 1988.


  


 Long before there was an Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader Waits kept a notebook full of interesting facts. Underneath that cool exterior beats the heart of a true geek.
  Tom Waits was born Thomas Alan Waits on 7 December 1949, one day after Blues legend Leadbelly died in New York. His parents were teachers who divorced when he was 10.


 Tom Waits had a band in the early 70s called The Nocturnal Emmissions.


 The first of Waits’ 25 appearances as a screen actor was in the 1978 movie Paradise Alley, written by and starring Sylvester Stallone. Waits played a drunken piano player named Mumbles.


 Bookmakers put him at 10-1 to be Christmas number one in Ireland last year when an Irish blog site launched a campaign to make the 1978 Waits track ‘Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis’ top of the charts. The attempt fell short, but the song did reach 28 in the singles sales chart and 11 on iTunes, ahead of ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday’ by Wizzard.


 On March 14, 2011, Tom was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame by Neil Young.


 Tom Waits keeps a notebook full of interesting facts, including gems such as the fact that the average cockroach can live up to two weeks after decapitation.



 In 1982, Asylum Records refused to release his seventh album, the now legendary Swordfishtrombones. Label President Joe Smith warned, ‘with this record you will lose all your old fans and gain no new ones’. Waits was subsequently dropped by Asylum and the album had to wait a year until 1983 to get its release on Waits’ new independent label, Island. The album is regarded by many as his finest record.


 



 The Eagles made his song ‘Ol’ 55’ a hit in 1974. He described their version as ‘antiseptic’.


 Tom Waits’ favourite contemporary artist is Missy Elliot.


 Waits was born one day after Blues legend Leadbelly died.


 During the Asylum years Waits toured hard as a support act for various bands including Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention and Martha and the Vandellas. The crowds didn’t take to him and he was frequently jeered and spat at.


 Tom Waits has released at least 28 albums and contributed to at least 50 films. His newest album, Bad As Me, is scheduled for release on October 25, 2011.


 Of the many rare instruments used on his recordings through the years including the calliope (or steam piano) and a bow-played, water-filled, tubular creation known as the waterphone. Waits’ favourite is the Chamberlain Music Master 600; an early analog synthesizer that contains inbuilt samples of everything from galloping horses to owls hooting.


  Tom Waits worked at Napoleone’s pizza restaurant in National City, and both here and at a local diner he developed an interest in the lives of the patrons, writing down phrases and snippets of dialogue which he overheard


 



 When Tom Waits sings, glass doesn’t break, it rusts. Must be why plastic beer cups are so popular at Tom’s shows.


 After Island Records were taken over by multinational Polygram, Waits jumped ship to the smaller Anti Records, releasing his label debut, Mule Variations, in 1999. He signed the contract with Anti’s parent company, Epitaph, after, he claims, they bought him a brand new Cadillac.


 Tom Waits has won two Grammy awards – for Bone Machine (1992) and Mule Variations (1999).


 ‘There ain’t nothin’ funny about a drunk.’ Despite an early career built on his persona of the world-beaten, cocktail-lounge boozehound, Waits has been sober for the past 16 years. In 1977 he told Rolling Stone journalist David McGee ‘You know, I was really starting to believe that there was something amusing and wonderfully American about a drunk. I ended up telling myself to cut that shit out.’


 Tom Waits also starred in Jim Jarmusch’s 1986 film Down by Law. He was nominated for an Academy Award for his soundtrack work on One from the Heart.


 The term “5 o’clock shadow” was invented by Tom Waits, because instead of wearing a watch, Tom Waits simply measures time according to his stubble growth. The term “midnight muttonchops” hasn’t caught on for some reason.


 



 Tom Waits describes his wife Kathleen as “An incandescent presence in everything I do.” He credits her with cowriting songs, steering him away from alcohol, and ultimately saving his life.


 Five different versions of the Waits song ‘Way Down The Whole’ have been used in the opening credits of each of the seasons of hit US TV show The Wire. Performers include Waits himself, The Blind Boys of Alabama, Steve Earle and a group of Baltimore middle-school students.



 Tom Waits’ favourite sound is bacon frying in a pan.


He has worked as a composer for movies and musicals and has acted in supporting roles in films, including Paradise Alley and Bram Stoker’s Dracula



  A recording of France’s premier mime artist entitled The Best of Marcel Marceau is Waits’ favourite dinner party soundtrack. It features 40 minutes of silence followed by two of thunderous applause. He gets annoyed when people talk across it.


 



  Tom Waits’ has worked as a club doorman, in a pizza restaurant, for the US Coastguard and has driven an ice cream truck. ‘The hardest thing about driving an ice cream truck’ he once said of his teenage job ‘is getting the little bell out of your head at night.’


  In 1992 Waits won $2.37m in a lawsuit against the potato chip company Frito Lay, (who make Doritos and Walkers crisps in the UK) when, after Waits refused permission to use the song ‘Step Right Up’ in an advert, the company recorded and used a jingle with a sound-alike.


  It is widely reported that Waits cried when he first saw This is Spinal Tap, finding it a little too familiar for comfort.


   Tom Waits is included among the 2010 list of Rolling Stone‘s 100 Greatest Singers  as well as the 2015 list of Rolling Stone’s 100 Greatest Songwriters of All Time.


 



 In 1988 Waits reworked ‘Heigh Ho’ from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves for a film song compilation album.


 In a press conference video released in May this year, Waits claimed the tour route of his 12 US performances was planned to follow the shape of the constellation Hydra.
   Aged 19,Tom Waits was a doorman at a San Diego music hole called the Heritage Coffeehouse. He eventually took to its stage as a performer. but he made less money: $8 an hour on the door, $6 on stage.



 There have been 13 outings of the Tom Waits festival, Waitstock, held on a farm in Poughkeepsie near New York. Highlights from 2003 included a potato cannon, ‘Tom Waits Gong Show’ and the release of several black cats during ‘Mystery Hour’.