Dos - Uno Con Dos

Sat back today and indulged my son with a game of What's Gnu. I needed something simple in the background to soak up the silence and still not wake the napping girls. Digging through my discs I hit upon this. I hadn't listened to it in a loooong time. It was like coming across an old friend - one with whom you had never been close, but whose company you always enjoyed.

Slip into Mike and Kira's experiment. Sometimes it works and sometimes not so much, but it's pretty special.

amg:

Since Dos (which consists of bassists Mike Watt and Kira Roessler) didn't release its first two records — 1986's Dos and 1989's Numero Dos — on CD, the albums were combined for the Uno Con Dos CD in 1991. There are no other instruments besides the pair's basses and vocals, which gives the music a haunting yet intriguing and original sound. A few of the songs on Uno Con Dos were later reworked as fIREHOSE (Watt's band from 1986-1994) songs, such as "Number Four," "Number Two," and "Number One," while "Forever" is a stark cover of the Minutemen classic "One Reporter's Opinion" (off 1984's Double Nickels on the Dime). Watt and Kira also take turns singing a cover song each: Kira tackles Billie Holiday's "Don't Explain," while Watt covers his friends Sonic Youth on "PCH." Other interesting tracks include "Heartbeat" (which was later reworked on Watt's all-star 1994 solo album, Ball Hog or Tugboat?), "I Worry My Son," "The Rabbit and the Porcupine," "Slow Little Turtle," and "Number Three." Fans of Mike Watt's bassy banterings will love Uno Con Dos.

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And for all you fans, they still play gigs, most prominently a benefit every December in San Pedro. Watt tours with the Stooges, and Kira is now an Emmy winning sound editor having worked numerous films and television series, sometimes credited only as "Kira".

Camper Van Beethoven - Tusk

Curry and I spent the morning exploring the golden age of recording studio excess - that gilded time when hugely successful bands spent undgodly sums at places like Electric Ladyland and indulged themselves with the search for sonic perfection (and a lot of coke).

The last dinosaur of that time was Fleetwood Mac's Tusk, which cost upwards of $1,000,000 to produce, and that is 1979 money, folks. Excessive in the extreme, but giddily and charmingly insane when viewed through a nostalgiac lens. In retrospect, this record from the biggest selling act of the time is quite subversive as it slowly and not too subtly destroys the pop that brought about its own creation. Much like Henning, I happen to like Tusk a lot.

Camper Van Beethoven, a band about whom I have always been rather ambivalent, set out in '86 to make their third album. During their holing up period their drummer broke his hand and on a whim they decided to cover Tusk in its entirety. Halfway thru the process some members had second thoughts but were overruled. Once completed the joke was apparently over and the tapes disappeared for a decade and a half. They finally resurfaced in 2000 (in the home of the belated Mark Linkous, interestingly enough) and the recording was released 2 years later.

The result is uneven, occassionally hints at sarcasm, and feels a little lazy at times, but mostly treats the material quite respectfully. There are some real gems in this. What Makes You Think You're The One, Sara, the wickedly fun Sisters of the Moon, the title track (which has less in common with the original than it does with The Doors', The End), and the exquisite Beautiful Child are beautifully rendered in their new forms.

It's worth the listen.

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addendum: Wikipedia says that the album was not in fact recorded in '86 at all. That it was instead recorded in 2001 as an experiment to see if a reunion would work. All other sources claim it was recorded in '86.

Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys - The Bob Wills Anthology

We do a lot of influences here - personal and cultural - but we don't often go way back. This is WAY BACK. It was Wills and his iconoclastic cohorts that set the stage for so much that came later. Scotty Moore, responsible for one of the greatest guitar solos ever (the second 12 bar break - not the first - in Hound Dog), counted Wills as his major influence. And the list continues.

Wills and his boys (among the best musicians of the era) swung hard, and three quarters of a century later the ease and nonchalance of their recordings can be deceptive until you realize that they were creating something that had never been heard before.

This is my go-to for long road trips across the West and nothing beats ending a hot dusty day with a little Bob Wills and a couple of cold ones.

Dig?

amg:

Bob Wills' name will forever be associated with Western swing. Although he did not invent the genre single-handedly, he did popularize the genre and changed its rules. In the process, he reinvented the rules of popular music. Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys were a dance band with a country string section that played pop songs as if they were jazz numbers. Their music expanded and erased boundaries between genres. It was also some of the most popular music of its era. Throughout the '40s, the band was one of the most popular groups in the country and the musicians in the Playboys were among the finest of their era. As the popularity of Western swing declined, so did Wills' popularity, but his influence is immeasurable. From the first honky tonkers to Western swing revivalists, generations of country artists owe him a significant debt, as do certain rock and jazz musicians. Wills was a maverick and his spirit infused American popular music of the 20th century with a renegade, virtuosic flair.

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Mandrill - Composite Truth

Curry twatting Midnight Special links has an effect.

From 1973, the unappreciated Mandrill got it right on one kickass record.

What was it that made the public so much more open to some serious jams back then?

amg:

Composite Truth is Mandrill's most successful album, commercially as well as artistically. Although the band's sense of freewheeling experimentation had been tempered, its gradual transition to a straight-ahead funk band was made perfect with two of the biggest hits of its career: "Hang Loose" and "Fencewalk." "Hang Loose" is all over the place (in a good way), moving from a grooving funk jam to mid-tempo guitar skronk and back, all part of an impassioned call to peace. "Fencewalk" also had several transitions, with a crooning chorus and an extended middle section powered by heavy brass and a screaming guitar solo. Elsewhere, Mandrill turns in a very convincing impression of a salsa band ("Hágalo"), breaks into killer loose-groove funk ("Don't Mess With People," with a splendidly undecipherable vocal), and stumbles only with the long, rasta-fied San Francisco tribute "Polk Street Carnival," featuring a bass part that would make even a student smirk. (For such a strong band, Mandrill's basslines were often uncharacteristically weak.) In the main, the songs on Composite Truth were catchier than on its first two albums, and the band never appeared subservient to the sense of experimentation that had troubled it before. Even if on Composite Truth Mandrill sounded more like other funk bands of the time, no one could argue with the fact that the results were more exciting and consistent.

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Steely Dan - Aja

I've moved a lot in my life. I mean a lot. I had moved 13 times before I finished kindergarten... And that was a relatively stable period. Over the past 30 years or so of multiple abodes I developed a tradition. Whenever I moved into a new place I set up the stereo and as I began unpacking the remainder of my belongings the first thing that was played through that stereo was this album. It started because I liked it. Later, during my sonic tweeky phase, its stunning clarity was an ideal test for the system setup. Eventually it became habit. The songs are not played in their proper order and the last song I always schedule (appropriately enough for my rootless existence) is Home At Last.

I relay this little quirk of mine as a means of saying that Steely Dan in general (and Aja in particular) is probably the only huge mainstream act for which my pleasure is entirely guiltless. I don't often play it anymore (partly because I haven't moved in the last 6 years), but when I do I am warmed to my very soul. I grew up with this music. I heard it endlessly on the radio or on my stereo. It is slick and clean and cozy, but touches me deeply nonetheless, probably as much for what I bring to it as it brings to me.

Aja is simply the best example of 70's west coast, studio music ever produced.

And that ought to be enough for the Forest.

amg (on the title track):

Aja the album is rightfully considered Steely Dan's masterpiece, the album on which Walter Becker and Donald Fagen's notorious studio perfectionism is placed in the service of the duo's strongest batch of songs. And although the other two songs on side one of the album, "Black Cow" and "Deacon Blues," are more likely to show up on FM classic rock radio, and the bookend tracks on side two, "Peg" and "Josie," were the hit singles, "Aja" the song holds a special place in the hearts of Steely Dan fans. The longest and most musically complex song Becker and Fagen ever attempted, "Aja" is an eight-minute mini-suite that starts and ends as a Latin-tinged soft rock shuffle with fanciful Asian-themed lyrics ("Chinese music always sets me free/Angular banjos sound good to me") and features a coda starring drummer Steve Gadd in one of the least boring drum solos ever to appear on a '70s rock album. In between those sections, however, "Aja" turns into something else entirely: literally, in fact, as the middle section of "Aja" was actually scavenged from an early, unused Steely Dan song called "Stand By the Seawall." In this incarnation, the tune begins as a showcase for a long, lyrical solo by original Steely Dan guitarist Denny Dias, which then leads into a remarkable tenor sax solo by Wayne Shorter that is the purest jazz Steely Dan ever recorded. While not an instant crowd-pleaser along the lines of "Rikki Don't Lose That Number," "Aja" is an absolute masterpiece, not only one of Steely Dan's finest songs, but also a pinnacle of '70s studio rock.

Indulge your inner 70's, breezy, coke-snorting, convertible-driving, california demon.

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Sceptics may entertain themselves here.

The Reverend Al Green - Call Me

I used to spend a lot of time with a big, burly, corn-fed, Iowa farm boy who was referred to by his friends as Kirkbear. Aside from Curry, Kirkbear had the largest and most varied collection of recordings I've ever come across, and that's saying something. He once had to move because the floors were beginning to collapse under the weight of its mass.

One night Kirkbear was sitting around his house and decided to go out to get a beer. He made a few calls, but was unable to find anyone to join him so he slipped out by himself. He choose as his watering hole (less for the ambience than the numerous pool tables) a Des Moines dive, the Safari, that billed itself as the town's only "punk" bar. As the evening wore on and with a few beers under his belt he began taking money from the younger pool players and introductions were in order. When he was asked his name he told them, on a whim, he was the Reverend Al Green. These kids were astonished - where did a member of the clergy learn to play pool like that, and what was he doing in the Safari?!

The night progressed as he was introduced to more and more youths ("You won't believe it - this guy's a reverend!"). Kirkbear would meet each new acolyte with the same phrase: "How do you do? Call me The Reverend Al Green." More beers were purchased for him that night by strangers, he told me later, than at any other time in his life.

Not once was he called on it. Not once did someone "get it". This big ole white white boy worked his way through a night of free beers on the name of the greatest soul singer of the 70's.

Hey youth - Do yourself a favor and learn something so the next time some pasty guy cleans your clock at 8 ball he doesn't take you for free beers as well.

This is the shit.

amg:

Al Green reached his creative peak with the brilliant Call Me, the most inventive and assured album of his career. So silky and fluid as to sound almost effortless, Green's vocals revel in the lush strings and evocative horns of Willie Mitchell's superbly intimate production, barely rising above an angelic whisper for the gossamer "Have You Been Making Out O.K.." With barely perceptible changes in mood, Call Me covers remarkable ground, spanning from "Stand Up" — a call to arms delivered with characteristic understatement — to renditions of Hank Williams' "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" and Willie Nelson's "Funny How Time Slips Away," both of them exemplary fusions of country and soul. Equally compelling are the album's three Top Ten hits — "You Ought to Be With Me," "Here I Am (Come and Take Me)," and the shimmering title cut. A classic.

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The Allman Brothers - The Allman Brothers

There's a lot of general Grateful Deadisms all over this record but the jams seethe with a sort of hostility and nervousness. See: Dreams. This is really a superior record. Gobs of feeling and wandering and you really get the sense that these guys had nothing more than this. I know that's romanticizing the Allman Brothers but when music anymore is an exercise in trust fund boredom relief or a stepping stone to Hollywood fucking n blow then honesty really shines when you hear it.

Does it sound like I hate contemporary music? As I type this all I see is the face of that Pete Wentz twat and his commodified hair or hear the precious designer Ivy League imperialist noodling of Vampire Weekend.

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This might be the best debut album ever delivered by an American blues band, a bold, powerful, hard-edged, soulful essay in electric blues with a native Southern ambience. Some lingering elements of the psychedelic era then drawing to a close can be found in "Dreams," along with the template for the group's on-stage workouts with "Whipping Post," and a solid cover of Muddy Waters' "Trouble No More." There isn't a bad song here, and only the fact that the group did even better the next time out keeps this from getting the highest possible rating.

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Killdozer - Burl

Thanks for the inspirado JW with the Kdozer LBB post. I had to hear this again... and I have to share it now. My favorite Killdozer.

Hamburger Martyr is the unofficial national anthem. This freaked my fragile mind when first spun circa 1986.

This truly is the best of all possible worlds.

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Allmusic.com: It was dedicated to the memory of folksinger Burl Ives, but there was one small problem -- he wasn't dead at the time. Regardless, Burl itself is a fun slice of madness, with regular producer at the time Butch Vig once again helping to make the trio's vision a rather gruesomely funny reality via this six-song effort. The most unlikely of the band's covers closed things out, Jessi Colter's "I'm Not Lisa," as nuttily trudge-worthy as could be imagined in the band's hands. If there's a legendary number, though, then no doubt about it, the opening "Hamburger Martyr" became the group's anthem or close to it. Starting with a spat "F*ck you!," Michael Gerald takes detailed time to criticize a greasy-spoon chef's lack of cooking ability ("I could make a better hamburger with my asshole!"), then witheringly corrects him in the ways of burger flipping. All this loud-as-hell sludge/stomp noise is mixed with kitchen chaos and random quotations from Voltaire as well; it's Killdozer in a nutshell.

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King Khan and The Shrines - What Is!?

A total throwback, rocking retro, nostalgic soul review. And they do it so well and with so much swagger and so many hooks and just the right attitude. This is strictly a tight, well-formulated rhythm n blues record.

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Allmusic: An R&B show band fronted by a Canadian of South Asian heritage who's currently living in Germany sounds like it ought to be some kind of practical joke, particularly since said bandleader used to be a member of the Spaceshits. But even though King Khan clearly has a sense of humor -- with bandmates named Sam Francisco and Mr. Speedfinger, he'd better -- he and his group the Shrines deliver a high-impact variation on classic soul that's as real, as frantic, and as heartfelt as the day is long, and Khan's third proper album, What Is?!, is one sweat-soaked shakedown party captured on plastic for the ages. Khan can shout with the keyed-up fury of a great garage rock belter and he's an estimable songwriter, but what really sets What Is?! apart are the dynamic, muscular grooves laid down by the Shrines. Lead guitarist Mr. Speedfinger's wah-wah enhanced leads are inspired, Fredovitch's rich, full-bodied organ lines embrace classic styles with a contemporary edge, and the horn section (Sam Francisco, Ben Ra, and Big Fred Roller) can jump from traditional Memphis punch to free jazz inspired caterwauling at a moment's notice (Khan cites Sun Ra in the liner notes, and on "Cosmic Serenade" and "Fear and Love," their willingness to drift off into Saturn's orbit confirms the influence is sincere and well-informed). With a great ensemble at his disposal, Khan isn't afraid to show off their range, and along with jumped-up R&B groovers like "Land of the Freak" and "(How Can I Keep You) Outta Harm's Way," there's the slinky soul of "Welfare Bread," the psychedelic explorations of "I See Lights" and "Fear & Love," the straight-ahead Stones-inspired ferocity of "No Regrets," and the moody acoustic closer "The Ballad of Lady Godiva." In the grand tradition of James Brown, King Khan has assembled a band as gifted and wildly visionary as he is in the Shrines, and on What Is?! they're throwing a better, wilder, and smarter party than anyone in town; they cover a lot of ground on this set, and find a killer groove wherever they touch down.


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Heldon - Heldon II Allez Teia

Allmusic.com: Led by guitarist Richard Pinhas, the French group Heldon released seven groundbreaking albums, melding electronic and rock forms, from 1974 to 1978. Pinhas also recorded six albums under his own name. Pinhas was heavily influenced by Robert Fripp; this shows in his guitar playing, and in the titles of several of his compositions. While early LPs sometimes evoked the sound of Fripp and Eno, Heldon evolved in its own direction. The release of Heldon IV: Agneta Nilsson saw the group heading toward a more intense, menacing sound. Heldon V: Un Reve Sans Consequence Speciale was the first to feature the "classic" lineup of Pinhas, drummer Francois Auger, and keyboard player Patrick Gauthier. These three would be the key personnel on Heldon's last four albums. The entire Pinhas/Heldon catalog was reissued on CD by Cuneiform, several featuring bonus live tracks.

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Davy Graham - Hat and The Guitar Player

Allmusic.com: One of the most eclectic guitarists of the 1960s, Graham's mixture of folk, blues, jazz, Middle Eastern sounds, and Indian ragas was an important catalyst of the British folk scene. Like Sandy Bull and John Fahey -- two folk-based guitarists with a similar taste for genre-bending experimentation -- Graham could not be said to be a rock musician. But like Bull and Fahey, he shared the eagerness of the '60s psychedelic rockers to stretch out and incorporate unpredictable influences into his music. While he wasn't much of a singer, Graham's taste in material was broad and shrewd, encompassing blues, ragas,Joni Mitchell, Charles Mingus, and the famous instrumental "Anji," which Graham recorded in 1962, way before the more famous versions by Bert Jansch and Simon & Garfunkel. Besides cutting several albums of his own work in the 1960s with sympathetic, low-key rhythm sections, he also recorded with traditional folk singerShirley Collins and British blues father Alexis Korner. Graham recorded only sporadically after the 1960s, although he performed with the renowned acoustic guitar wizards Stefan Grossman and Duck Baker.

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Children by the million...

...will miss Alex Chilton.

So much loss lately. This one really stings.

Here's past FROXX nods to Alex and his body of work.

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RIP Roland S. Howard

Froxx is a little late to the wake, but it ain't when it happened, it's when you hear it happened.

Roland Howard died December 30th. He was 50 and had been waiting for a liver transplant. Besides being Nick Cave's conspirator with The Birthday Party he was also one of the forces behind Crime & the City Solution's first (and best) works.

amg:

Following on the heels of two successful EPs, Crime & the City Solution turned around to record some of their best material for Room of Lights. With violinist Bronwyn Adams added to the camp, the band acted as dynamically jagged counterparts to their peers; the music they now embraced was a rough and ready rock that slotted itself nicely under a gothic canvas — they were and remain post-punk's forgotten kings. And although fans may cite some of the band's later work as better, it really isn't. It may be smoother, more refined, but nothing had the vibrant impact of the sound slammed home on this album. Its urgency jangles, its cacophony is dichotomous, and, at times, the underlying energy is breathtaking as the band storms through a great set. From "Right Man, Wrong Man" and "Hey Sinkiller" to the sleepily ominous "No Money, No Honey," it's hard to find fault. And if there could be a breakaway hit on an album like this, "Six Bells Chime" fits the bill. Director Wim Wenders included the band and song in his now classic 1986 film Wings of Desire. Elsewhere, "The Brother Song" and "Adventure" round out the set. While the LP is hard to find, the CD reissue is still around — and boasts a clutch of bonus tracks taken from the Just South of Heaven and The Dangling Man EPs, an opportunity for the full scope of the band's early material to be fully sampled. Yes, the band would retain much of their sound across an impressive canon, but really, the earlier days of Crime are better. Their sound was grungy in a different time and space, long before the term was coined.

Howard's solo stuff is worth the search too, particularly Teenage Snuff Film.


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RIP Mark Linkous