What's in the Bin? - November 17th, 2008

One of the sheer joys of being in an indie record store is browsing the bins. Just starting somewhere, flipping through things, pulling out items that catch your eye, giving a few of them a test spin. So in the fourth of a hypothetical series, I've browsed the "New Arrivals" bins here at Twist & Shout, picked out a few things, and gave them a listen. The nature of used record stores being what it is, I can't promise these items will still be in the bin by the time you get here. But hey, browse the bin anyway. You might find something else of worth.

CD - Gary Wright - Dream Weaver and Other Hits

If I was a stickler for truth in advertising, this CD probably should be called Dream Weaver, That Other Hit You Know That You Probably Didn't Know Was By The Same Guy Who Did Dream Weaver, His Only Other Charting Hit Which Is Actually Pretty Cool, And Seven Songs Which Never Were Hits At All. But try fitting that on the spine of a CD.

This brief ten-song disc is anchored by the one song Gary Wright will be forever tied to - "Dream Weaver." Five minutes or so of trippy vocals and spacey keyboards from a time when "Nobody played synthesizer" was something bands liked to boast about on the back of their LPs. The song tripped me out when it was on the radio back in 1976 (I was six), and while it doesn't quite have that effect anymore, it still manages to move me a bit. "Love Is Alive," also included, was Gary's other big hit, although one that has pretty much utterly vanished from the public's memory. Probably that's due to it being rather normal by comparison. The melody is simpler, the guitars louder, and the lyrics are rather 70s-lazily-cosmic: "It's all clear to me now/My heart is on fire/My soul's like a wheel that's turning." (Not a stationary wheel, mind you - a turning wheel.) But like most mid-70s chart smashes, I like it anyway, and would probably throw it on after "The Things We Do for Love" by 10cc fades out.

Then there's Gary's third (and final) chart hit "Really Wanna Know You." It doesn't have the cosmic lyrics of his other hits - instead, we get a love song more boring than anything in the Air Supply canon (who were close to ruling the world around the time this song made the charts). "I really wanna know you/I really wanna show you the way I feel/I really wanna know, know, know you/I really wanna show, show, show you." But these third-grade lyrics are propped up with oddball keyboard licks and washes that make the ones in "Dream Weaver" sound tame by comparison. Then there was the music video. Gary, decked out in his white shirt and pants, makes his way through a very red post-apocolyptic (or just really messy) cityscape. He chases after the elusive woman in the black hat holding a white letter Y. I'm sure it was artsy and fraught with meaning, but even when I saw it on MTV back in the early 80s, it looked more like a fever dream brought on from eating too many Skittles. Because of all this, "Really Wanna Know You" ends up being more memorable (and more fun) than most other pop hits from 1981.

And then there's those other seven songs. No, there's no hidden classic buried here, but actually, most of the other songs hold up quite well. Most have the same trippy lyrics and vaguely anthemic quality that are hallmarks of Gary's two big hits, and a few of the songs ("Water Sign", "Phantom Writer") sound great placed next to the big hits. I doubt you'll be skipping over the hits to get to them, but then again, I doubt you'll be skipping over them to get to the hits, either. At least, not if you give them a fair shake.

LP - Soup Dragons - Hang-Ten!

I worked at my college radio station back in the early 90s, and it seemed every LP in the bin looked a lot like this one. The cover art conveying equal measures of both "whimsical" and "art" - hell, they actually spell that second part out for you. But given that, the music inside is somewhat surprising. It's even more so if you happen to remember the band's two minor hits ("I'm Free" and "Divine Thing"). Both those songs were deliberate, measured, and "knowing." But this whole album sounds downright giddy. Like the band has these songs bubbling up out of them, and they just GOTTA let them out. The songs sound a bit rushed, and the production isn't very good (at least until Pat Collier takes over for the band halfway through side two). It's as if the band skimped on both the recording budget and setting up the mics, beacuse darnit, they wanted to get to the part where they play their songs for you! This feeling is rather infectuous, and makes overlooking the album's faults fairly easy to do. "Man About Town With Chairs" ("based on the original short story" - duly noted) isn't a very successful attempt at making A-R-T, but it's easy enough to like. And they do much better (helped by Pat Collier's clearer production) on the final track, "So Sad (I Feel)," a long slow number that picks up speed as it goes along. Not exactly a deathless album, but it's fun to hear people having fun making what they think is art.

7" - Three Belles - "(My Baby Don't Love Me) No More/Sincerely"

Most people who know something about the history of popular music are aware that whitebread cover versions of R&B hits were the order of the day in the mid 1950s. But did you know there was a market for whitebread cover versions of songs by white artists, including whitebread cover versions of whitebread cover versions of R&B hits? Apparently, that's the story behind the Bell music label from the 1950s. (No relation to the 60s/70s label of the same name.) The label featured mainly unknown acts recording versions of other songs that were popular at the time. Have you ever seen those clearly-not-Disney DVDs featuring "The Lion Monarch" and "The Small Mermaid" for $1 at the discount store? It's pretty much the same idea - redo the hit, and sell it cheaper. So perhaps it's not surprising that the Three Belles are no match for the Moonglows, or even the McGuire Sisters, on "Sincerely." And I don't know the original "No More" (by the DeJohn Sisters), but the Three Belles's performance there is only adequate. That said, the musical accompaniment (by Larry Clinton and Orchestra) is actually really good. I don't know if this is something I'd pull out and listen to on a daily basis, but it's a good listen, and an interesting footnote to musical history.


- mondo gecko

Portraits of the Artists as Young Men

Neil Young - Sugar Mountain-Live at Canterbury House 1968
Recorded in 1968, as he was just embarking on his solo career after being in the highly successful Buffalo Springfield, this recording will literally bring tears to the eyes of Neil Young diehards. Consisting of equal parts Springfield songs and early solo material the program is punctuated by Neil’s comments, jokes and banter. The overall effect is wondrous. The listener is immediately struck by both how fully formed he is as a performer, yet how young and inexperienced he sounds at the same time. His ability to pull off challenging numbers like “Expecting To Fly,” “Broken Arrow” or a mind-blowing “Trip To Tulsa” sits comfortably next to the folksy simplicity of performances of straight-forward fare such as “Mr. Soul,” or “Sugar Mountain.” The version of “Sugar Mountain” is the one that was originally released as a single, and it is quintessential Neil. He delivers a song of seeming childlike simplicity, yet it has an almost anthemic resonance that grows with each listen. Of special interest are the songs from his first, eponymous release that haven’t seen much live treatment over the years. “If I Could Have Her Tonight,” “I’ve Been Waiting For You,” “The Old Laughing Lady,” the aforementioned “Trip To Tulsa” and “The Loner” all shine with the excitement of new tunes that will one day be classics. Neil is clearly playing to a small, adoring audience, but it is obvious that he is a world-class performer already, and is quite comfortable kibitzing with the crowd. His voice is lovely. At times he sounds like a thirteen-year old girl in the first blush of romance. And I mean that as a complement. Considering the worlds that this man has come over the ensuing 40 years since this was recorded, the overall vibe is exactly what we have come to expect from Neil Young. Even at this tender age he delivered poetic songs of substance in a singular, riveting fashion.


The Doors - Live At The Matrix 1967
This is one of the most often bootlegged sets of shows in the history of bootlegging. Throughout the years these shows have appeared in fair, bad and worse sound quality with incomplete song lists. Finally, the best of these landmark shows has appeared legitimately with HIGHLY upgraded sound and a stunning package with artwork by the great Stanley Mouse and liner notes by all three surviving Doors. At this period they had recorded their first album but not released it and had already started on a few songs from their second album. The audience is tiny, literally less than 30 people. The Doors were like any other two-year old band with limited exposure outside of their hometown; and that is the real charm of these recordings. Jim Morrison and company had not bought into any of the hype yet - in fact there was no hype. “Light My Fire” had not yet been released to radio, and it is obvious listening to the non-plussed audience reaction that there were no rock-star pretensions. What one is left with is a hard-working, highly original band with a great batch of songs, a poetic lead singer, and a future as bright as the sun. The band is tight in their playing, but extremely willing to embark on improvisational flights. Morrison also proves able to throw in extemporaneous bits of poetry to the middle of songs. “The End” and “When The Music’s Over” are particular fertile ground for his lyrical outbursts. What the future would hold for The Doors is now ancient history, but this release offers a glimpse of a great band with wings of wax - nowhere near melting point yet.

What's in the Bin? - November 10th, 2008

One of the sheer joys of being in an indie record store is browsing the bins. Just starting somewhere, flipping through things, pulling out items that catch your eye, giving a few of them a test spin. So in the fifth of a hypothetical series, I've browsed the "New Arrivals" bins here at Twist & Shout, picked out a few things, and gave them a listen. The nature of used record stores being what it is, I can't promise these items will still be in the bin by the time you get here. But hey, browse the bin anyway. You might find something else of worth.

CD - Delerium - Semantic Spaces

Here's a band I really didn't know much about, other than it seemed to be liked by the same folks who liked Enigma. And there are similarities, but they're certainly their own animal.

The CD got off to a slow start - almost too slow. The keyboard washes and wordless vocals went on long enough that I started to wonder if this was going to be a full-on ambient album. But finally, a beat kicked in, the vocals started, I was on my way. Delerium doesn't really have songs (the way Enigma does) so much as soundscapes - lengthy tunes with elements of 90s dance music (keyboards and strong beats) along with chanting, world music, and whatnot. I don't think I could use it for zoning out, but it might be an ideal soundtrack to a lengthy car trip.

LP - Nash the Slash - Children of the Night

There certainly weren't any shortage of odd ducks from the new wave era, and Nash probably wasn't even closest to the oddest. Like many new wavers, he had a couple gimmicks. He appeared wrapped completely in bandages, like a mummy, along with a white suit and hat. This album includes the Synergy-fronted 70s backlash claim "These are no guitars", but you're not going to miss them. Nash plays electric mandolins and violins with such ferocity at times that you'd just assume it's a guitar. Nash paints some great creepy soundscapes here, starting off with the excellent instrumental "Wolf". Sadly, this is followed by a cover of "Dead Man's Curve". Nash's voice is actually very pleasant, and despite the fact that the song is a "tragedy song", and Nash plays it totally straight, two decades of ironic cover versions have spoiled me. It sounds more like a giddy tune off the Silicon Teens album, and it spoiled the mood set by the opening. That mood is quickly recovered as the record continues, though. Originals like "In a Glass Eye" and "Metropolis" keep the creepy feeling going, and the second cover version ("19th Nervous Breakdown") does a much better job of fitting in, somehow. Another cover version ("Smoke on the Water", retitled "Dopes on the Water" - don't ask) wasn't quite as successful, but by then, I was enjoying the ride too much to really care. My main complaint is the backing bass-and-drum loops, as the "beep boop" started to wear on me by the end of the record. Still, as an off-the-wall early 80s artifact, it's a great listen.

7" - Man or Astroman? - "UFO's and the Men Who Fly Them" EP

One of three MOA 7" EPs that showed up in the new arrival bin recently. I know next to nothing about this band, so I picked this particular one for two reasons. One, having grown up voraciously reading books like "UFOs - Truth or Myth?", I had a soft spot for the title. And secondly, it comes with instructions on how to create your very own Man or Astroman UFO out of the outer sleeve! Gear!

The title ends up being just that - a title. The four songs on the EP - "9 Volt (recharged version)", "The Sound Waves, Reversing", "Italian Movie Theme" and a cover of "High Wire" - don't appear to have much to do either with UFOs or their operators. Mainly, they sound like lo-fi (and proud of it) versions of pre-Beatles instrumentals. At least one track had vocals, but they were buried pretty deep in the mix, rendering them just another instrument. As it ends up, the songs tended to run together and kind of sound the same. But honestly, I think that's the point. It ended up being a groovealicious ride from start to finish.

Caveat - the sleeve insists "Ages 3 and up". Two-year-olds, get your older sister to buy this for you.

- Mondo Gecko

What Are You Listening To Lately (Part 5)?

See older posts for description of this regular column.



Orchestra Baobab – Made in Dakar
The title really says it all – while they still show influence from all over Africa, the Caribbean, and beyond, this record more than any other I’ve heard by them subsumes those influences into a sound that’s straight out of Senegal, paying respect to the dominant mbalax style of Senegalese music even if it’s not the only sound you hear. About half the songs date to the 70’s or earlier – updating traditional songs and older pop music is one of the hallmarks of Orchestra Baobab’s style – but if you didn’t grow up with them you’ve never guess the vintage of these tunes simply by listening. Nor would you be able to guess from the energy level here that many of these players had been at it for nearly 40 years as Orchestra Baobab – but you could guess from the easy rapport they have with each other. At times it’s like the songs are merely an extended sequence of conversations on different subjects (lyric trots in English provided in liner notes). Especially notable are the (instrumental – in both senses of the word) voices of Issa Cissoko on saxophone and bandleader Barthelemy Attisso on guitar – these two have always taken the lead roles in the music of Baobab over the years and their camaraderie here characterizes the learned, laid-back feel that’s still charged with energy throughout. Between their last album Specialist in All Styles (fitting title, that) and this one, they seemed to have tapped into some kind of magical pipeline for great music they can turn on at will – though they don’t abuse the privilege. It’s got an elder statesman vibe that never feels aged, they just lay the shit down like they’ve got nothing to prove. Which at this point, they don’t – they’re acknowledged masters. One of the best recordings to hit the U.S. shores in 2008.


George Russell – Ezz-Thetics
There’s something wonderful and evocative about Russell’s music that I can’t quite pin down (and I’m not about to dive deep into musical theory just to dig his ‘Lydian Concept’). It keeps me a little confounded but it also draws me back to give another shot at understanding things – or following them, anyway – next time I pull this out for a listen. Of course, if you’ve read many of my reviews, this is basically a paraphrasing of what my favorite art does – holds out a little mystery while keeping me wanting to go back for more. Even without the mighty Eric Dolphy on hand, I would find this record enjoyable, but Dolphy always bumps the value of a record up a bit and it’s his extended solo on “’Round Midnight” here that is the record’s crowning moment. But it’s followed not far back in quality by a great “Nardis” and Russell’s own great title cut. His other two compositions (plus trombonist Dave Baker’s “Honesty”) also get off great moments – written and/or played with that unique approach that keeps me a lot intrigued and a little baffled. I don’t “get” it yet, but I love it, and part of that love probably comes from not getting it.


Postal Service - Give Up
I dunno, maybe it’s really better than I give it credit for – it’s catchy as hell, mildly experimental, smart. I think if I had been in or just out of college when this came out it might have a permanent spot on my top ten – at least until I hit my mid-30’s. But I feel about it the way I feel about probably 90% of the smart indie rock that crosses my ears – I can recognize the intelligence and respect the craft, but it feels like it was meant for someone else. Had I come to this another time, I’d probably parse these lyrics the way I do Talking Heads and Eno. I like it, I really do. I enjoy it every time I have an opportunity to hear it. I think it’s a cool idea and a great execution – Gibbard and Tamborello are a real simpatico pair who could even have been in the same studio (but of course weren’t) and not done any better. But even though they’re both roughly my age, I feel a little old listening to it. The more I think about it though, the more I think it's the indie rock equivalent in pop-experimental sensitivity of Upstairs at Eric's.

Gabriel's Angels

It has been hard times. A long, troubled, bleak time. A time of confusion. A time of drought, a time of want. But now is the time for change. Now is the time of enlightenment. A time of adventures, a time of discovery. For, finally... the third and final installment in the Genesis reissue series is here.

At last, Genesis have seen fit to give the world what it wants - a sexy box set covering its golden period with Peter Gabriel and Charisma records (1970-1975). Crammed with audio and video goodies and inevitable deluxe packaging, this completely remixed/remastered set has given Genesis fans like me a reason to live of late.




PART ONE The enigma of the Lamb

To kick off, I want to talk about my favourite (sic) Genesis LP. The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway is the multi-hued sheep of the Genesis family, i.e. something of an oddity. A Labyrinthine tale told through a murky, psychedelic haze, some clever people say The Lamb is the Genesis masterpiece, and the pundits may be correct on this one. It is also starkly different from every other Genesis release; gone is the very English whimsy of the early albums, the Victoriana, the fairy tale macabre, the sweetness. Like much of the Gabriel-era Genesis stuff, these are surrealist tales, but this time they are fed through a vile, twisted metropolis instead of the English countryside. The Lamb is a striking mélange, full of forboding, street talk, the supernatural and the grotesque, and even, gasp...short hair. Yes! The reverse mohawk, giant flower and foxhead of yesteryear have, by the time the Lamb hit Broadway, morphed into a shorn Puerto Rican street tough with cabalistic tendencies.

As a story (like most concept albums), things get pretty baffling by the 4th or 5th track, but the steady flow of provocative ideas engages and enthralls throughout. The Homeric journey of the protagonist Rael (think: Gab-Rael) is simply the method actor frontman's own cod-schizophrenia played out in a nightmarish Gotham wonderland. Only contemporary Bowie in his ambitious Diamond Dogs period can hold a candle to Gabriel in his role of a lifetime.

There are no weak moments on this LP. The Lamb is a double album of great pop songs ("Counting Out Time," "It," "Lilywhite Lilith"), prog epics ("The Cage," "Colony of Slippermen"), gorgeous ballads ("The Lamia," "Carpet Crawlers") and sublime slices of classic rock ("Back in NYC," "Chamber of 32 Doors," "The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway"). There are also several tracks of great experimental music; quasi-musique concrete and free jamming that still sounds superb. Although he doesn't play on the LP, Brian Eno is credited for assisting with effects and general mood. This is most evident on instrumental tracks like "The Waiting Room" and "Hairless Heart." All in all, The Lamb ought to appeal to any fan of quirky 70s rock.

Genesis deserve to be rated among the finest art-rock acts of the 70s, y'know- Roxy Music, Kraftwerk, Bowie, The Pistols. As a musical unit, they were endlessly melodic and creative, and with Phil Collins on board, Genesis were a major powerhouse. The kick drum on this record is a rival to Zep IV as best ever. For Phil, believe it or not, is Prog's greatest drummer. You heard me, Mr. Bruford.

The Lamb is enigmatic not only because of the strangeness of the recording, but also because of the filmic images that accompany it. The cover (a Hipgnosis gem), liner notes, costumes and stage show all have an otherworldly vibe, and because the original tour was never filmed (do I need to say that again?), we can only imagine the power of the original, and so the enigma grows. Listen on headphones, and gaze at 1974 tour photographs and you too will feel a sense of wonder.


With the release of this tremendous box the world ought to realize how cool Genesis were.


- Ben Sumner

What a relief!!!!

I am so pleased that the political season is over. I’m not going to lie, I’m thrilled with the result. As President-Elect Obama and his family took the stage on election night, I had a thrill I haven’t had since the 60’s. It was the thrill of optimism. Optimism that our country will once again garner some respect on the world stage. Optimism that we will actually face down the looming environmental crises. Optimism that the economic underpinnings of this country can be salvaged before we see breadlines and rationing. These things may be inevitable, but it would be nice to believe our leader is at least awake at the wheel.

But really, it is the end to the election cycle that I most relieved to witness. I can’t believe that the TV commercials that play over and over - like the radio show in Bill Murray’s Groundhog Day actually change anyone’s mind. The repetitive nature of them makes me less likely to vote for anyone. They certainly don’t change my mind. It is so obvious that the person or organization responsible for them is just hoping that like the “Apply directly to your forehead” commercial, or the “improve your love life” emails that we see day in and day out, the sheer mind-numbing number of times we are exposed to this crap will eventually make inroads to our subconscious and we will become the willing zombies they are looking for. Obviously it works or it wouldn’t keep happening. If it was up to me I would say the election cycle is 4 months, there will be a half-dozen publicly sponsored debates and other than that nobody is allowed to advertise. Think of the billions spent on “I’m candidate x and I approve this message” that could have been spent on helping people with their mortgages or subsidizing home heating credits for poverty-stricken families. It is an absolute joke.

Anyway, the election ended on a really high note that struck the right balance of optimism and sleeve rolling up, and although the stock market has continued to tank for the first few days of this “new era” everyone seems to be in a better mood. We can only hope that this results in some kind of rebound for our battered economy and public confidence. I have never seen people so gun shy about spending and going out. Even after 9-11, when things were plenty bad, the traffic in our store and others I have observed wasn’t this slow. I don’t blame people. After the last 8 years of mismanagement and bad vibes, it felt like the sun might never warm our faces again. Now, I think it just might.

What's in the Bin? - November 4th, 2008

One of the sheer joys of being in an indie record store is browsing the bins. Just starting somewhere, flipping through things, pulling out items that catch your eye, giving a few of them a test spin. So in the fourth of a hypothetical series, I've browsed the "New Arrivals" bins here at Twist & Shout, picked out a few things, and gave them a listen. The nature of used record stores being what it is, I can't promise these items will still be in the bin by the time you get here. But hey, browse the bin anyway. You might find something else of worth.

CD - Interpol - Antics
It's a bit early in the game to label this their "forgotten" album. But between their stunning, "everybody-come-check-THIS-out" debut Turn on the Bright Lights, and the excellent return-to-form Our Love to Admire...came this. Which I guess would at the very least have to be labeled a disappointment. But upon revisiting it post-buzz, I find that it's really not disappointing at all. It's just not quite as immediate as their debut. The songs range from good to great, but rather than jumping out and grabbing you by the ears, they're more subtle. They lay there, and expect you to actually go listen to them. And oddly, doing so proves quite rewarding. "Next Exit" may be a rather oddball opener, but there's plenty of goodies to be found afterwards - notably "C'mere" and "Evil." This CD probably isn't worth as many cool points as Turn on the Bright Lights would be for your next cocktail party, but then again, maybe it is. If you're ready to do a bit of explaining to your friends, that is. And for some, that's the entire point.

CD - Takacs Quartet - Beethoven: The Early String Quartets
I'm going out on a limb a bit with this one, mainly because my knowledge of classical music isn't very extensive. As such, my discussions about classical music and recordings generally hover around "I prefer this one" rather than any true critique I can offer. But I've got several classical recordings in my CD collection, and I'm always on the prowl for more. So let's bring this one down to my level - is it something I'd get? Well, kinda sorta maybe.

I don't know the Takacs Quartet. Judging by the back cover, they wear dinner jackets, hold their instruments and stand in semi-circles, which means they're similar to 95% of other classically-bent quartets. But this two-CD set was somewhat of a surprise. When I see the words "string quartet," I tend to think "chamber music." Four people playing pleasant music that quite often can sort of drift into the background. There's nothing wrong with that, of course - record labels have been minting "The Most Relaxing Classical Album in the Universe!" CDs for years now. But the music here isn't really well-suited to that. The music makes you notice. The bowing is "sharp" and dramatic throughout much of these two discs, which keeps this front-and-center music rather than "something pleasant to put on in the background." I'm not sure if the pieces are written that way, or the Takacs Quartet just played it that way - there's my classical ignorance coming into play. But the pieces were really nice. I enjoyed listening to them. I'd just have to remember not to put it on when I felt like zoning out.

7" - Jorgen Ingmann - "Desert March/Tovarisch"
It's weird and fun coming across something different by an artist you know precisely one song by. I know "Apache" from its appearances on countless "Instrumentals of the 50s and 60s" collections, and so I was intrigued to see what else Jorgen could do. I was expecting "Desert March" to be a rather slow, mournful, almost oppresive number, which shows I'm a product of my time - they'd never release something like that back then. Instead, think a Cub scout troop marching to a jamboree on a particularly warm day, and you'll be in the ballpark. The rat-a-tat snares in the background give it that fun-patriotic "You're a Grand Old Flag" feel, and the Les Paul-esque "guitar choruses" help make it a cool forgotten early-rock instrumental. B-side "Tovarisch," I guessed, would be about as authentically Russian as "Apache" was Apache, and there, I didn't miss my guess. Or did I? The label claims the song is "Trad Adapated by Jorgen Ingmann," so perhaps in fact it is a Russian folk song. But if so, it's been 50s-rock'd into an even more Les Pauly number than the flip. But that's only problematic if you consider "Les Pauly" to be an insult rather than high praise, and that's certainly not the case with me.

- Mondo Gecko

What Are You Listening To Lately (Part 4)?

I think I speak for many record store employees when I say that the most dreaded question a customer can ask is “What are you listening to lately?” Most of us are on our own strange little personal journeys that are miles away from what anyone else we know is interested in. But I can promise you, we all have a pretty similar reaction when that question comes up: we brace ourselves and usually throw back a quick "What have YOU heard lately that you've liked?", because it would take too long to explain exactly what we’re actually listening to lately and why. With that in mind, here's a snapshot of what I have actually been listening to lately – what’s in the walkman, on the stereo, what I’m picking when I’m at work, and what I’ve been playing when I’m in the shower.

Various - The Indestructible Beat of Soweto
This blew a lot of people’s minds when it came out, but mine wasn’t one of them. Rather than having my music-world shattered by the realization that there were vibrant, thriving pop music scenes elsewhere in the world, this was part of my growing up/learning process. Not literally this album, mind you, but those P. Simon/P. Gabriel/T. Heads records that sent people out looking for this album or others like it were ingrained into my teenaged pop music DNA the way that the Shangri-Las and Jan & Dean are part of the Ramones’ DNA. So I just accepted this as part of the pop norm when I found my indirect way into it via the Art of Noise working alongside Mahlathini and the Mahotella Queens. I’m telling you this not to tout some false sense of a superior position, but to note that it means that I came to this strictly as music, not a cultural phenomenon – Apartheid was over and Mandela freed by the time I actually picked this record up - and I still find it to be an absolutely superb example of how a compilation can work to summarize/anthologize a scene, a musical movement, a socio-political phenomenon, and also how easy it is for music in a language that the listener doesn’t understand to vault over any resistances and hit you right in the gut. It’s universal. And knowing the circumstances under which the music was made only pushes my admiration and enjoyment up to the nth degree. And if you’ve never heard anything like this, it may well blow your fucking mind.


Los Lobos – Colossal Head
I’m at a loss to understand why this in considered a lesser Los Lobos album while Kiko is revered as a high point in their career. Kiko trades heavily on atmosphere (provided by engineer Tchad Blake and producer Mitchell Froom, whose slightly bent take on Americana suits these modern traditionalists (traditional modernists?) to a T) while this one refines the formula and offers up better songs to boot. There’s nothing on Kiko with half the energy of the ebullient “Mas Y Mas,” no lyric there with the weary depth of “Revolution” or that spills over with the joy of “Life Is Good.” And don’t get me wrong, I think Kiko is great, I just think this one’s better and more potent, like a concentrated reduction of everything that went into Kiko – experimentalism, ambience, energy, great playing. Why, it's just about as good as the Latin Playboys first album.


Parliament – Mothership Connection
The album opens and closes with brilliance, but that middle stretch is totally pro forma P-Funk. Luckily, those three tracks are also the shortest (and also luckily, pro forma P-Funk has still got the goods for dancing), and I give G. Clinton et al props for keeping the theme of the album going, for making them of a piece with the better material that surrounds them, even if they’re lesser by comparison. And those four great once are pretty titanic slices of funk – starting with the stoned radio DJ rap of “P. Funk (Wants to Get Funked Up)” and moving directly into the album’s central theme/title track “Mothership Connection (Star Child),” in which Clinton and co. suggest vaulting over Earth’s problems into the cosmos. Closing out the B-side (or the CD) they offer up one of the their most durable and popular grooves, “Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker)” and the ridiculous “Night of the Thumpasorus Peoples,” a trifle they probably slapped together in the studio that has proven to be inexhaustibly entertaining (to me at least) over the decades. They’re more consistent elsewhere in their catalog, but they’ve rarely ever peaked as high as the best of what they offer here.

Jesse Hughes live in-store appearance!!!

Hold on to your panties! The devil himself, Jesse Hughes from the Eagles of Death Metal, will be here live in the flesh at Twist & Shout! I don't know about you guys but I am super stoked to see this. I have seen EODM four times & NEVER been disappointed. Its always a party. Be prepared for sexy mustache sounds from this lady-loving hunk. The great thing about this particular performance here at Twist & Shout is that the show will be more intimate, a smaller gathering then I am used to seeing them. Bring your booty-shakin, hip-rattlin self down to Twist & Shout Thursday November 6th at 6pm. After the show, you can get your favorite memorabilia or body part signed from the man himself. Doesn't that sound like fun? I know where I will be next Thursday, getting my heart on at my favorite place, TWIST & SHOUT!!!!
oxox
jenny

What's in the Bin? - October 26th, 2008

One of the sheer joys of being in an indie record store is browsing the bins. Just starting somewhere, flipping through things, pulling out items that catch your eye, giving a few of them a test spin. So in the third of a hypothetical series, I've browsed the "New Arrivals" bins here at Twist & Shout, picked out a few things, and gave them a listen. The nature of used record stores being what it is, I can't promise these items will still be in the bin by the time you get here. But hey, browse the bin anyway. You might find something else of worth.

CD - Sloan - Never Hear the End of It
They're only kinda kidding with the title here. In the opening weeks of 2007, Sloan put out this album - with thirty tracks. And there aren't any "skits" or ten-second "interludes" mixed in - there's well and truly thirty (then-brand-new) pop songs on there. And no, not all of them are deathless. But the pluses far outweigh the minuses. The not-really-punk-but-kinda "HFXNSHC", the quiet "Live the Life You're Dreaming of," the catchy "Ana Lucia," and "Who Taught You to Live Like That" dare you not to sing (and clap!) along. If the last few pop albums wore out their interest after two or three listens, this may be the perfect cure.



CD - Jr. Walker and the All-Stars - Best of / 20th Century Masters
If you know your sixties "oldies," you probably know "that one song" by Jr. Walker - "Shotgun." It was rather an atypical song to come out of the Motown camp at the time. This was the period when the Supremes were scrubbing up, wearing identical wigs and sequined gowns, and perfecting their soft, flowing hand gestures. Meanwhile, "Shotgun" literally explodes out of the gate with a shotgun sound, and is followed up with Jr. Walker's sax wailing and raw, sweaty "Shotguuuuun!" cries. It's soul about as raw as Motown would possibly put its label on. This CD (naturally) starts there, and then moves forward, covering songs of a similar feel (such as "Road Runner"), some surprisingly interesting cover versions ("Come See About Me" and "These Eyes" both hold up well), and Jr's second surprise hit - a mellow but still soulful take on "What Does It Take (to Win Your Love)." This CD may be a short ride - just eleven tracks - but it's a great one, and one that's worth taking on a semi-regular basis.


LP - Young Tuxedo Brass Band - Jazz Begins - Sounds of New Orleans Streets: Funeral and Parade Music
The title may be a mouthful, but it sums it up. This LP was recorded in 1959 (and appears to have been released roughly the same time - there's no date listed on the LP), and was recorded right on the streets of New Orleans. It follows the tradition of a brass band playing funeral dirges on the way to the funeral, and then peppy numbers as they go back home. The liner notes don't make it clear if this was recorded at an actual funeral, but regardless, the effect remains. The first half of side one features slow, mournful dixieland versions of hymns such as "Lead Me Saviour" and "Nearer My God to Thee." Rather haunting, very nice. And then things kick up as side one comes to an end, and the rest of the LP is given over to a much more upbeat mood. Oddly, some of the numbers are hymns as well ("Just a Closer Walk to Thee"), but given a raucous, celebratory vibe. I'm not sure if it's a celebration of life following the mourning of a death, or just a way to shake the heeby-jeebies, but either way, it works very well. The gatefold sleeve has an in-depth discussion of the traditions of New Orleans funeral music, as well as comments on each of the songs, and it's great to have context for what you're hearing. It'd be a great album to put on during a cold day, lying face down on your bed, reading and absorbing the liners as the music sets the mood. In fact, it's the kind of album that might get you looking forward to the next cold day.

- Mondo Gecko

I’ve Never Been This Old Before

Growing old is so weird. Don't get me wrong, I dig it. You're not likely to hear me ever complaining about it. But it's just so weird the random changes that can take place over the course of 30 or so years. Like, I used to hate onions. But one day, as an adult, I loved them. I used wear black on the outside cuz black was how I felt on the inside. Now I'm lucky if I can find more than five pieces of black clothing in my so-called wardrobe. When I was young, I thought nobody understood me. Now I think there's not a thought in my head that someone around me won't identify with. I remember sitting by the radio waiting for Pink Floyd's “Comfortably Numb” to come on so I could tape it and then try to identify as many of the lyrics as I could, filling a whole notebook of lyrics to my favorite songs. Now I find that the instrumentation of a song is much more important to me than the lyrics, to the point of liking a lot more wordless "post rock" than most. And Lord knows I used to listen to my Jesus & Mary Chain Psychocandy cassette tape to the point of dementia. Now I can't bear more than one song from it....What the?? Does that mean I'm gonna start loving New Age? Um, no, cuz I find that I actually get bored with a lot of music unless it starts rocking my socks off (Kinski anyone?). Well who knows, it's hard to pinpoint what's going on. There's no identifiable trend. No rules to abide by. One thing's for sure: it's impossible to stay the same. So it's kinda weird that I still get giddy about The Cure after 23+ years. I've been a huge fan since 1985 when I discovered Faith and Pornography to be the most perfectly fitting soundtracks to a certain drugless mood I often found myself in. And even though I eventually pulled through the devastations of that mood and "grew out of it," the importance of the music that went with me on that journey has never faded. And even though I've not always adored what The Cure has done since Disintegration, I'll never NOT be a Cure fan. I now understand that with age comes unexpected changes. I'm not at all the same person as back then. And neither is Robert Smith. I should never expect him to write music that would impact the person I used to be. So I made sure to listen to the new album with the ears that are attached to the current me.

It seemed odd to tour North America without first finishing the new album, but it was actually a brilliant move for The Cure and it created a shitload of anticipation for the new album (remember back when we actually allowed ourselves to anticipate?). They trudged tirelessly around this nation giving us 3-hour sets filled mostly with those fantastic classic Cure songs, showing us that yes they've changed while aging as well: they're older and bolder, and still those crazy-good musicians who can outplay any of today's younger rock stars and can still whip their old fans into a frenzy, causing many to take charge of virtual chatrooms and swear at "Anonymous" for having the nerve to criticize Robert's thinning hair. And after finally hearing the album, I'd say they're just as deserving of such defensiveness as they've ever been. "Underneath the Stars" is a spectacular opener and I still can't listen to it without imagining that I'm under the skies at Red Rocks watching them play it. It's got the most atmosphere of any song on the album, with Robert's floating vocals surrounded by the mood of the instruments. From there, the songs are more singles-oriented, although one thing hasn't changed: mainstream radio still sucks, so who knows if we'll hear any of them on the FM airwaves. The four songs that were previously released as CD/7" singles are catchy and playful. "Freakshow" in particular is such a fun song, seemingly written by Robert Smith's quirky dance moves. And it feels like "The Only One," "Perfect Boy" and "Sleep When I'm Dead" are old familiar favorites, since they were sprinkled into the set lists on the pre-album tour. Many of the other songs are getting better and better with every listen and I can't tell you how happy I am to have Porl "Wah Wah" Thompson back home. But the last two songs have already claimed their top spots on my favorite-songs-on-the-album list. "Scream" is a fantastic, slow-building song with a mid-song fade and re-entry that adds even more drama to an already impacting song. And "It's Over"... holy crap. This is exactly how my current self wants The Cure to sound: guitars and drums up in the mix equal to the vocals, with everyone just slamming it. Jason creaming the drums and Simon pounding the bass and the guitars going crazy and your heartbeat wants to keep up with the music until your insides explode and you're out of breath. Makes you just long for the live version, eh? And who knows - maybe in a month I'll wonder why that was ever my favorite song, cuz clearly "This Here and Now With You" takes the cake. And maybe tomorrow I'll hate onions again. But nowadays it's easier to just let it all go and allow whatever changes necessary to get me through this life. As long as The Cure are still in it.

It's Over - Live in Rome

*While supplies last, get a free poster with purchase of 4:13 Dream

What Are You Listening To Lately (Part 3)?

I think I speak for many record store employees when I say that the most dreaded question a customer can ask is “What are you listening to lately?” Most of us are on our own strange little personal journeys that are miles away from what anyone else we know is interested in. But I can promise you, we all have a pretty similar reaction when that question comes up: we brace ourselves and usually throw back a quick "What have YOU heard lately that you've liked?", because it would take too long to explain exactly what we’re actually listening to lately and why. With that in mind, here's a snapshot of what I have actually been listening to lately – what’s in the walkman, on the stereo, what I’m picking when I’m at work, and what I’ve been playing when I’m in the shower.

John Lee Hooker – Travelin’
I know that John Lee Hooker stomping, singing and playing guitar by himself is the archetypal version of JLH, but I have to admit that I love it when he deigns to have a bass and drums (and sometimes another guitar) with him, as was often the case on the early 60’s Vee-Jay albums he did. Even though they don’t exactly add anything to the music – they follow his lead at all times and are, as such, more ornamental than fundamental in the music – I still love the way a cymbal ringing along with him sounds, the way a snare sounding off on the two and four sounds. Also delightful for me is the way each of these songs fades out with John Lee usually still singing, as though each track is but a snatch out of a continuum of rhythms over which he plays the ultimate raconteur, telling his stories now with his voice, now with his guitar; the fade kicks in and we skip ahead to the next chapter in his stories of love and loss on the road. He’s made more dynamic songs, sure, but as a full album, very few from his catalog are of a piece the way this great one is.


Das EFX – Dead Serious
Though you may get a little tiggidy-tired of their shtick by track 10, you gotta admit that it’s a hell of a gimmick and tough to do, too – more an intricate and (for me at least) largely entertaining circus act than an empty set of smoke and mirrors or some sleight-of-hand parlor trick. And maybe it never again hits the highs that “Mic Checka” (track 1) and “They Want EFX” (track 3) do, but it never loses momentum, never loses the all-important sense of humor they’d be lost without. It starts strong, goes all out for humor, hooks and gross out (humorously delivered, of course) for the first half, then takes it easier for side two – or maybe I just get a little tiggidy-tired by track 10 myself. But persevere – track 10 itself is great, so try not to wear down before it’s over. It was only good enough to (sorta) take as the title of their follow-up. Besides, the rest of that second half is pretty damn good in its own right, it’s just in the wake of the first half that it doesn’t quite dazzle.


Wayne Shorter – The Soothsayer
Like Et Cetera, this album sat in the can for over a decade and in listening it’s tough to understand exactly why – must’ve fit somebody’s marketing plan of the day. Even so – 1980 is a little long to have waited for these spring ’65 sessions. But blah blah blah, spilt milk and all that – I guess by the high standards Shorter had set with his incredible string of 1960’s Blue Note albums, this is a lesser session that could wait for release, rather than being shot out hot on the heels of the masterpiece Speak No Evil. The song “Angola” is spectacular – a fast one in which Shorter, James Spaulding, and Tony Williams simply blow the roof off (I mean, Wayne does in typically oblique Shorter-esque fashion, of course). “Lady Day” is a lovely ballad which Bob Blumenthal’s notes for this edition call “a haunting ballad in the vein of ‘Infant Eyes’” to which I’d add “only not quite as haunting, because it’s less melancholy, if no less beautiful.” The waltzes that begin and end the regular album are pretty great too; one a Shorter original that drives home one of Blumenthal’s other points about the record (I’ll get to that); the other a lovely arrangement of Sibelius’s “Valse Triste.” Bluementhal’s notes point out that (Freddie) Hubbard, Spaulding and (McCoy) Tyner, all first-class players, may not be intimidated by the challenges of the music, but none of them are able to play out the implications (of the compositions) as fully as Shorter himself.” And that’s what I alluded to earlier – while everyone here is able to approach Shorter’s unusual writing and solo on his tunes with gusto, he’s the only one who sounds fully at home with the compositions – well, in the soloing at least. Maybe it’s just that his approach to soloing is as idiosyncratic as his writing, but that’s the way it sounds. Everyone in this terrific group sounds great here – Wayne Shorter just sounds better.


Sonic Youth – Evol
This is Sonic Youth right on the cusp of their breakthrough – Steve Shelley’s in place, nearly every track gives up something like a hook (or at least a really memorable bit) – and if it managed to rise up just a little bit more, if the best bits peaked just a touch higher, it’d be major and not just “good.” As it is, the singles – “Star Power” and “Expressway to Yr Skull” – kill, their best moments on record to this point of their career. Not too far behind are “Tom Violence” and the odd little “In the Kingdom #19.” The rest sounds good, but the feel just one push short of really making it. A shame that not all turntables respond to the lock groove that closes things – having that comforting electric drone flesh out the final 11 minutes or so of the Evol side of a Sonic Youth C-90 was a very nice thing. CD version also includes bonus material – “Bubblegum” is a great cover I’ve never heard the original of. Glad they chose it for this. I just take my mental rating down a half notch because they could’ve replicated that lock groove on CD if they really wanted to. I’m not sentimental about “original vinyl” stuff, but that’s one gimmick I really liked.

Rachael Yamagata - Elephants...Teeth Sinking Into Heart

Rachael Yamagata's new album is separated into 2 parts. Elephants shows Rachael's softer, emotional side: slower songs, more gentle vocals, prevalent piano and lyrics bringing forth melancholic feelings and saddening experiences. Teeth... seems to show just that: an aggressive reaction with electric guitars, upbeat rhythms and an expression of anger at times. This is exactly what I wanted from a new album. One third rock and roll and two thirds ballad-esque melodies. Rachael has a wonderful voice and it shines brightest when the sad peeks through. Sometimes she sounds sultry and sexy singing at a near whisper, but you can tell she's had some loss in her life - the liner notes mention a dedication in loving memory to a relative. Depression or just an acceptance of grief has inspired many artisits and musicians to create amazing art. To create something is a positive way to cope, and I am very thankful Rachael Yamagata lets us hear her voice and song. She moved me...again. Guests/friends include Ray Lamontagne, Mike Bloom (The Elected), Maria Taylor (Azure Ray), Jason Boesel (Rilo Kiley,Conor Oberst) and James Valentine (Maroon 5).

- Joel Boyles

What's in the Bin? - October 19th, 2008

One of the sheer joys of being in an indie record store is browsing the bins. Just starting somewhere, flipping through things, pulling out items that catch your eye, giving a few of them a test spin. So in the second of a hypothetical series, I've decided to browse the "New Arrivals" bins here at Twist & Shout, pick out a few things, and give them a listen. The nature of used record stores being what it is, I can't promise these items will still be in the bin by the time you get here. But hey, browse the bin anyway. You might find something else of worth.


CD - They Might Be Giants - Apollo 18
Not one of this geek-rock band's well-remembered CDs, probably because it didn't spawn a hit like "Don't Let's Start" or "Birdhouse in Your Soul." And you can probably blame the lyrics - this may be the last time that the Giants were so...out there. But this isn't a CD to be avoided - not by any means. Because whether the band sings about dead people intruding on everyday life in "Turn Around," the biology lesson "Mammal," or the food-related stream of consciousness that is "Dinner Bell," they're delivered with such catchy hooks and great instrumentation that you actually find yourself singing along by the second (weird-ass) chorus. Mixed in with these twisted pop songs are a few quickie bits of calculated oddness ("Spider," "Hall of Heads") which will get you ready for the suite "Fingertips." There, the band quickly runs through twenty-one fragments that were never fleshed out into full songs. So one after another, you get ten-second intriguing tidbits like "Come on and wreck my car" and "What's that blue thing doing here?" The band has said they envisioned "Fingertips" as "the sort of thing you hear during a late-night commercial for Connie Francis's Greatest Hits." Be that as it may, it does make listening to the CD on "shuffle" a truly interesting experience, as all the various "bits" of "Fingertips" are assigned a separate track.


CD - Various Artists - Pure Reggae
Many of us are interested in expanding our musical palettes, but the difficulty usually is "Where to start?" Many people have a modest interest in reggae, but once you pick up a copy of Bob Marley's Legend (or the soundtrack to The Harder They Come), where to next? It's impossible to sum up a genre on one CD (or even a hundred), but this disc does a good job at giving a quick overview. It opens and closes with a couple classic Bob Marley songs - "Stir It Up" and "Exodus" - which should help set the mood for the entire set. Many well-known reggae and reggaesque songs are here - Eric Clapton's take on "I Shot the Sheriff," Eddy Grant's "Electric Avenue," Inner Circle's "Bad Boys." There are several undoubted reggae classics - Jimmy Cliff's "Many Rivers to Cross," Desmond Dekker's "Israelites," Lord Creator's "Kingston Town," and "Rivers of Babylon" by the Melodians. Rounding out the collection are more modern (and, to my ears, lesser) numbers by Aswad, Apache Indian and Big Mountain. The disc doesn't flow all that well - you may as well listen to the thing on shuffle - but it does do a good job at providing a "big picture" overview of the genre. Presumably, after listening to this a few times, you not only will know whether you want to continue exploring reggae, but perhaps in which direction. And for that alone, it's worth picking up.


45 - Art of Noise - "Legs/Hoops and Mallets"
"Peter Gunn" was still a few months away when the Art of Noise released this as their first single after leaving ZTT Records. If ever there was a "standard" Art of Noise single, this may be it. A walloping drum sound, a catchy bassline and hook, and minimal vocals (just various readings of the word "legs") combine into four minutes of dancefloor fun. The B-side "Hoops and Mallets" is basically a simple tick-tock beat, with a repeating bassline and an occasional keyboard "wah" on top. Various sounds and a sampled "Couldn't sleep at all" (from Bobby Lewis's "Tossing and Turning"?) add a bit of color. And that's it. But listening to two sides back-to-back, the song makes a bit more sense. As a band that didn't write songs so much as assemble sounds into what passed for songs, the Art of Noise's creative process was somewhat different than most. They'd start with something simple - a rhythm, a beat, a sound. They'd add things, tweak things, take things out. And eventually they'd end up with a "song." Keeping that in mind, "Hoops and Mallets" changes - it's now the "Legs" beat pushed in a different direction, slowed down a tad, different things added. "Legs" from a parallel universe, perhaps. Maybe it was a hit there.




- Mondo Gecko