Ain't It Funky Now

Another reason why I don’t get to listen to much newer music is that I’m a “repeater”. Once I get a hold of something I like, I find it real difficult to put it down.



Case in point the James Brown live album, “LOVE-POWER-PEACE”. I have been listening to this thing practically non stop for three years…..that’s right..YEARS.

It’s just so damn good. First off, it’s recorded in 1971 during what’s arguably the height of the Godfather’s powers. Second, most of the members of what would become George Clinton’s Parliament/Funkadelic are represented here, including the incredible Bootsy Collins on bass.

So it goes without saying that the band is smoking hot, beyond smoking. On fire is more like it. With James Brown as their boss, there’s no alternative. In fact the main reason these musicians left him was because of all of the rules and regulations he forced onto them while in his employ. The JB’s all wore tuxedos, no exceptions. If a band member missed a note or skipped a beat during a concert he would be fined, ON THE SPOT. While the music was playing James would be dancing. Then he’d turn around, facing and pointing at the guilty party while dancing, writing up a fine on his hand with an imaginary pen and paper. That’s right folks, he actually worked the fining of his musicians INTO his act. How freaking ballsy is that?

The MC introduces James before he comes out. Then there’s this pre-orgasmic period where about 10 seconds elapse before JB hits the stage. The crowd goes BANANAS at that very moment. The band is playing the whole time. In fact, they almost never stop during the whole set and if they do, it’s purely for dramatic effect. They move seamlessly from song to song without missing a beat, delivering the goods at a breakneck pace. "Brother Rapp" seguewaying into "Ain't It Funky Now" is light years ahead of tight. There is a saxophone solo during “Superbad” by St Clair Pinckney that I can only compare to the sound of a wild animal being strangled to death. Of course, at the center of it all is Brown. Singing AND dancing with no help and never out of breath.

This CD basically rules my world and will continue to do so. Amazingly, although the concert was from 1971 it was never released until 1992. It’s one of those frozen in time moments that affect me so profoundly while listening, it’s hard to take anything else very seriously. So I haven’t for the better part of three years now.

Preservation Act 1

(Part 3 of a series of essays examining the Kinks’ recorded output on the RCA record label during the early to mid 1970’s).

By the beginning of 1973, the plan was in place for the next Kinks record. However this was to be more than just Ray Davies’s newest batch of tunes. For nearly ten years there had been attempts by Ray to present a complete theatrical piece that would combine rock and roll with dialogue driven theater. First there was “The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society”. Even though this was more of an attempt at a unifying theme, it bears mentioning here mainly because it’s the chrysalis of what would become the “Preservation” concept. 1969’s “Arthur”, a tale of a disillusioned British patriot was supposed to have been made into a UK television drama, but the network backed out of the project at the last minute.

Initially, “Village Green Preservation Society” was to be the basic template for this new undertaking. The plan was to expand upon that theme by adding new songs to the existing piece of music along with extra dialogue. Ultimately , Davies chose not to perform revisionist history on a piece that worked well enough on it’s own. It made more sense to expound upon the idea by starting from scratch.

Work on what was then planned to be one double LP began around mid to late February of 1973, after approximately six weeks of writing. A U.S. tour interrupted the proceedings, but upon returning in May, it was decided that most of what was recorded could not be used. Starting over again, it became apparent the story could not be told properly without providing proper context. A “set-up” if you will.

So now instead of one double record, there would be a single record to preface the story. This would be followed by a double LP where the two warring factions duke it out over the future of the Village Green. One side led by Mister Flash, aim to chop up the land into subdivisions for profit. This would result in dozens of little “Shangri-la’s” that “all look the same”. The other side led by Mister Black, seek to preserve the green with an ulterior motive not revealed to us as of yet.

In addition to these two personas, a third character is introduced as The Tramp. He appears most prominently in Act 1. We first hear from him on “Sweet Lady Genevieve”, one of Ray’s several unknown, underappreciated masterpieces of pop. “Where Are They Now?”, also sung by The Tramp provides some subtext in that rock and roll has progressed and the folks and styles from the 50’s are no longer in vogue. It also sets up the next tune, “One Of The Survivors” which is the closest thing the record comes to providing a straight ahead “rocker”.

“Sitting In The Midday Sun” is the last tune on the LP delivered by The Tramp, and while it borrows liberally from a Beach Boys harmony-style approach (particularly on the bridge) the song is so quintessentially “Davies” it makes for a breathtaking marriage of styles. “Midday Sun” tells a tale of a bum who watches the world go by , declaring himself happier and more at peace with himself than those who have proper jobs. Asking the musical question , “Who needs a job when it’s sunny?” it’s hard to disagree with him.

“Cricket” is sung by yet another character known as The Vicar. It’s appearance here seems trivial but examining it closer reveals the dangerously righteous stance of the Church during these changing times. More importantly, an interesting question presents itself as to what side of the conflict will The Vicar align himself with.

The record concludes with Mr. Flash and his cronies singing “Demolition” where the plan to destroy the Village Green and sell it off piecemeal is laid out in detail. All of it is of course set to a musical melody that will be reprised in Act 2’s final piece, “Salvation Road”. A clever plot twist awaits us on the next record where we discover that Mr. Black is actually in cahoots with The Vicar. While they share the high minded goal of saving the Village Green, they also want to usher in a new moral code with them as the self appointed “National Guards against filth and depravity”.

The stage is now set for an epic duel of good against evil. Only problem is, it’s difficult to tell which side is which. Shades of grey combined with private agendas are building towards a scenario where regardless of the outcome, the entire population will lose. The Tramp is the only one “watching it all” who is intelligent enough to see this. In our next entry where we examine the incredible “Preservation Act 2”, the battle will commence.


Thanks to Peter Doggett for providing the factual information used for this essay on the 2004 reissue liner notes for Preservation Act 1.

Where Is The Love?

So I was at the company gym the other day at lunch doing my daily two miles on the elliptical. While working out we have our choice of about 8 TV shows to watch. I usually settle in on New Haven news channel 8 if for nothing else than to ogle over luscious anchor Sonia Baghdady. Today though I got there a little late so I had to settle for ESPN and get caught up on typical sports-stuff. I usually look to the other TV’s while listening to one of them and my eyes drifted towards something called “The Bad Girl’s Club” on the Oxygen Network.

Just looking at this (I never did bother to switch the sound over) appalled and saddened me at the same time. It’s a standard reality show where a bunch of braless twenty-somethings move into a house and compete with each other for some kind of prize. Plenty of bleeped out profanity, blurred naked images, and ill fitting clothes. With the sound turned off though, it really drove home not just how these young girls are being exploited but also how we as a society look to hatred and vengefulness for our entertainment.

My Sonia Baghdady crush proves that I’m no prude, so I’m not here to sing “down with sex and sin”. I’m actually a big fan of both. What I have a problem with is the exploitation of it. That and the fact that these reprehensible behavior patterns delivered via fiber optics to every home on the globe didn’t come with any disclaimer indicating that this is no way to act.

Now word comes out of the United Kingdom that some fellow named Tom Morello is looking to get a song by his band Rage Against The Machine (gonna go out on a limb here and say they don’t do ballads) titled “Killing In The Name” to top the UK charts for Christmas week. I have not heard the tune, so I jumped onto the global scam that is the internet to seek out the lyrics. Initially it looks like a type of anti-war sentiment is at play here which I have no problem with (although Davies did it infinitely better when he wrote “Some Mother’s Son”).

Scrolling down the lyric sheet to what would my wondering eyes should appear but the word “fuck” repeated over and over again. Sure, lets make this #1 in the UK, why not. Aren’t we all smug and superior. Wouldn’t it be great if that during a time of peace on earth and mercy mild we can have a song at the top of the UK pop charts that demonizes war while at the same time spews profanity. What a swell idea.

Another thing, these words don’t even rhyme! The Sex Pistols at least were clever enough to rhyme “queen” with “fascist regime”. Plus they spewed more vitriol more intelligently than Rage Against The Machine could ever hope for. Worse than being profane, these lyrics are pedestrian and sophomoric. But, hey let’s make it #1 in the UK. How many copies do you have to sell to be #1 in the UK anyway like, 20,000?. Sure beats actually trying to express yourself legitimately by producing a piece of art that people will actually buy because its like, you know…. good.

Again, I’m no prude. I have no problem with the word “fuck”. I’m also against censorship. If these guys want to use the same word over and over again to drive home a point instead of picking up a thesaurus and actually writing a lyric, I have no inclination to try to stop them. Isn’t it funny and a little bit sad though that a slang word meaning intercourse has devolved into the most vicious form of hate speak? Isn’t it?

So in the spirit of the season I have to ask, where is the love? Why doesn’t love sell in the same way that backstabbing nubiles do? Why can’t we express ourselves intelligently without flipping each other the bird and snapping our fingers in each others faces? Why are recording artists driving up and down the east coast jumping ugly with Wal-Mart employees because they don’t see their records stocked on the shelves? More importantly, why is all this seemingly okay with everybody else, and is actually considered to be yet another form of entertainment?

This morning's commute

Wrote this for another blog and it came out pretty good so thought id share it here.
This is from my ipod on shuffle play connected to the car stereo.

Marvin Gaye-Lets Get It On

Almost ruined for good by that idiot Jack Black in “High Fidelity”, fortunately the tune is damn near indestructible.

David Crosby-Traction in the Rain

From his awesome solo album, “If I Can Only Remember My Name”. Came around to Crosby about five years ago after hearing “Draft Morning” from “The Notorious Byrd Brothers” LP. Used to think he was just a stupid hippie. OK, he probably is but he wrote some great songs. This album has tons of uncredited guest musicians that read like a who’s who of the California scene. Neil Young shows up here as do members of the Airplane and the Dead. Since they recorded for different companies, their contracts forbid them from appearing on another label.

Small Faces- The Autumn Stone

Steve Marriott could sing anything. The ballads are just as effective as the rave-ups. Tragic that we lost him so early in his life. One of THE unheralded greats.

Bob Dylan-Little Sadie

From “Self Portrait” in which every review I’ve ever read exclaimed that I should avoid like the plague. Not so. The record gets dismissed because it’s unpolished, and lots of flubs are left in. That simply adds to it’s charm. It’s very much in the same family as “The Basement Tapes” in that there are little if any overdubs. Dylan is such a complex figure, and the music he makes will always be secondary to the lyrics he writes and sings because of who he is. It’s really too bad about that because his instincts towards what sounds good MUSICALLY never gets the same examination. His recorded history proves in many instances how much of a perfectionist he can be. Entire albums have been scrapped and re-recorded, studio sessions document how he would change the key of a song in between takes. Here though, it seems that he is purposely NOT doing that in an attempt to break some new ground or better yet to piss people off.

Frank Sinatra-Always

Irving Berlin, songwriter. Not much more needs to be said. Although I do have a version of this sung by Marvin Gaye on his first album that is also pretty darn good. Frank’s version is pretty much the definitive one, tho’.

Sly And The Family Stone-If You Want Me To Stay

Here’s another band I need to hear more of. I know the “Stand” album and not much else, except for the obvious 45’s like this one. It is as they say, a stone groove.

Jethro Tull –With You There To Help Me (Live 1970-Isle Of Wight)
This version of the Tull live contingent is arguably the best. Martin Barre had just joined along with Clive Bunker on drums, John Evan on keys and Glenn Cornick on bass. This band was just flat out dangerous during this brief set.

King Crimson-Prelude (Song Of The Gulls)

This is from their fourth album, “Islands”. As bold as their first album(Court Of The Crimson King) was in it’s sheer power, this album is just as bold if not bolder in it’s restraint. There are several beautiful passages here including this one. Possibly my favorite Crimson long player.

Zappa-Cruising For Burgers

From the “Uncle Meat” album, this is one of the more accessible tracks. Overall “Uncle Meat” is a demanding listen, with much of it seemingly improvised. Repeated listenings though will reap rich rewards. The variations on “King Kong” alone make it essential.

Neil Young-I’ve Been Waiting For You

From his fine first album.

Jimi Hendrix Experience-Ain’t No Telling

Much has been written and will be written about Hendrix the guitar god and blues meister who was taken from us so early in his career. Here though, is what I will miss most. The “Axis” album features an almost pure pop direction, with most of the selections clocking in at just over two minutes. No extended jams, no psychedelic trips (“EXP” not withstanding, the LP opener which really does not qualify as a song). I like to think that had he lived, he would eventually return to the studio with an emphasis on song craft and studio wizardry, like he did here. Don’t get me wrong, I love Hendrix the axe man as much as anybody. It’s just that it overshadowed the simple fact that he really could do it all.

Nick Drake

When I think about Nick Drake, I’m compelled to obsess over what might have been. I arrived late to the Nick Drake party but honestly, we all did. He only sold about 20,000 albums during his lifetime and when he died, it didn’t even qualify as a “Rock And Roll Heaven” event. Amazing how all that changed over time. If you don’t know, Nick is now widely considered to be one of the most influential singer/songwriters ever. A Volkswagen TV commercial of all things that featured an audio snippet by him sparked renewed mainstream interest in his work about nine years ago.

His career is marked with personal and professional missteps. Some were of his own doing, others were not. Getting the personal stuff out of the way first, Nick took a lot of recreational drugs. He was also diagnosed with depression which resulted in him being prescribed legal drugs. It was these pharmaceuticals which he presumably overdosed on, taking his life.

Nick was an amazing, eccentric talent. The people that were put in charge of developing him did their best, but ultimately did not have the vision to do right by him. Nick wrote mostly on acoustic guitar, but he used alternate tuning techniques. Standard guitar tuning is typically E A G D B E. Nick however, might tune his guitar C G C F C E , then adding a capo to the fret board. Keep in mind that he’d only do that for one song. Another song might employ an entirely different structure. This made performing almost impossible as Drake would spend long stretches between songs tuning during the few times he could be coerced into actually giving a concert.

No one it seemed, had the vision or the budget to just buy 25 guitars for the guy and hire a roadie to keep them all tuned. For some reason this was never considered an option. No wonder the guy hated performing. Imagine being up there for long stretches at a time trying to tune in front of a bunch of people who were probably milling about impatiently.

Then there were the records themselves. Several online sources collaborate the theory that Drake was unhappy with the orchestral treatments that were employed on his first two albums. Listening to them now that may be hard to understand given their beauty. However you can also hear that these recordings were not something that was in step with any prevailing pop trend or style. They were truly unique for their time and remain so.

Record producer Joe Boyd was Drake’s professional mentor at the time. In addition to using orchestra on some tracks, other recordings were given an “English folk-rock” treatment, courtesy of another band Boyd was working with at the time, Fairport Convention. So there is this clumsy oscillation between two different musical styles that in retrospect seems all well and good. It’s actually all quite incredible. Taken into context however, in 1971 this approach (or approaches) had to have been confusing to critics, programmers and listeners.

However, his third and last LP, “Pink Moon” remains a stark contrast compared to the rest of his recorded output. Recorded in two days, (some reports say as little as two hours!) it contains one solitary 30 second piano overdub on the title track. The rest is just acoustic guitar and voice. Sublime finger picking combined with lead vocal, it’s simply one of the most hauntingly beautiful works of art ever committed to tape.

The artist at this time however was by all published accounts, no less than an emotional wreck. The phrase “clinically depressed” gets used a lot to describe Drake’s final days. He’d moved back in with his parents, too disconnected from life and disillusioned with the record business to do much of anything else. Around noontime on November 25th 1974, his mom found him dead in his room. He had overdosed on medication prescribed to him by psychiatrists to overcome his depression.

Was it intentional, or was the sickness overpowering him to the point where he took more pills than was prescribed as a desperate attempt to feel better? The answer to that question will never present itself, so it’s better instead we focus on the music. Some 35 years since his passing, the work of Nick Drake continues to both entertain and inspire.