“It’s Just A Question Of Style” The Bill Nelson playlist

One of the finest guitarists to ever plug in, Bill Nelson is also one of the most reluctant axe heroes of his era. From 1974 to 1978, Bill wrote all the songs, arranged them , played guitar and sang lead vocals for the British band Be-Bop Deluxe.

The band defied categorization during a time where image and substance went hand in hand. Instead of going toe to toe visually with the likes of Bowie, Bolan and Mercury, Nelson opted instead to concentrate on his songwriting craft, consistently churning out quality that equaled and in most cases even exceeded that of his peers.

Science Fiction was one of Bill’s recurring songwriting themes, but he also wrote poetically about love, passion, lust and longing. Despite a high quality run of albums and almost constant touring, the band never achieved mainstream success and Bill disbanded the group in 1978, moving on to other avenues of self expression.

The work he left behind however, influenced practically all of the UK pop groups that succeeded him during the 80’s and beyond. It’s all magnificent, but here is the cream of the crop.

1) “Axe Victim”- The opening salvo off the album of the same name which contains that incredible lyric lamenting the life of a rock and roller, “Last night I felt immortal, this morning I feel dead”.

2) “Maid In Heaven”-Nelson made a fresh start for his second album, replacing all the band members and enlisting Roy Thomas Baker of Queen fame to produce. This track, taken from the album, “Futurama” is a hidden diamond buried deep within the musical landscape of 1975.

3) “Sister Seagull”-Also from “Futurama”, Nelson’s melodic ideas and brilliant lead guitar runs are on full display here. Although he could never shake off the constant comparisons to Bowie and other glam rockers of the day, listening to this track makes you realize Nelson was a trail blazer, and not a follower.

4) “Heavenly Homes”-1976’s “Sunburst Finish” yielded a UK top 40 hit for the band with “Ships In The Night”, a reggae tinged love song. This track though, displays Be-Bop’s “heavier” leanings as the guitar riffs get a little darker and the lyrics continue to shift more towards the oblique.

5) “Life In The Air Age”-Perhaps the greatest ever marriage between Rock and Sci-Fi, Nelson mutes all the strings of his guitar, strumming a percussive “chunka chunka” sound on the intro, before delivering a soaring signature lead guitar melody that should have been world famous. The lyrics are set in the future, yearning for a simpler time, saying that “Life In The Air-Age isn’t all that the brochures say…too dangerous to stay…airships crashing every day into the bay.. all highways in the sky…all the oceans have run dry” and finally…”It’s grim enough to make a robot cry”.

6) “Modern Music”-Lyrically, Nelson was first and foremost, a romantic. This track is one of the best examples of that as he simply but poignantly pleads to a far away lover to stay true to him.

7) “The Gold At The End Of My Rainbow”-The internet consensus over the “Modern Music” album is that much of it was written during an extended tour of the United States in 1976. In addition to writing about his observations of America, Nelson was also homesick and this message to his then wife back at home is sheer glorious poetry.

8) “New Precision” –From 1978’s “Drastic Plastic” LP, this effort has Nelson veering away from the guitar and more towards a synth-pop sound, using sequencers, vocal treatments and other similar types of rhythmic options. Groundbreaking for it’s time and influential towards an entire generation of New Wavers, the album’s overall place in rock history continues to rise slowly but steadily.

9) “Don’t Touch Me, I’m Electric”- After disbanding Be-Bop Deluxe, Nelson re-emerged in 1979 with “Red Noise”. Here, Nelson travels even further into the void, working with even more synths and employing the most manic herky-jerky rhythm patterns he would ever attempt up to this point. The record is not for everybody, but if you love this, the album’s first track then you’re sure to willingly inhale the whole thing. If “Drastic Plastic” can be considered influential, then “Red Noise” is even more so as Nelson casts all commercial trappings to the side and delivers a frightening high speed isolated snapshot of a world going wrong.

The John Wetton Playlist

John Wetton is as nomadic of a musician as they come. From his early seventies stint with the criminally underrated British band Family to his baffling eventual mainstream success with the pseudo-prog outfit known as Asia, this guy has been around the block and then some.

On bass he is known for his powerful, heavy handed approach. One story conveyed to me by a friend who saw him play with Roxy Music back in the day swears that he saw Wetton actually break the E string on his Fender Precision.

Looking at his discography, I noted that he also has released more than his share of solo and live solo albums that have not even been released widely here in the US. So it would appear that internationally he does garner some semblance of star power.

Today however, we are going to go with what we know, and attempt to piece together a play list of John Wetton’s most memorable tracks. Listed in no particular order are…

1) “Save Some For Thee” – Family –1971- The last cut on side one of the spectacular “Fearless” LP, John sings what amounts to a duet with lead singer Roger Chapman. They were mostly popular in the UK, but here in the US it seems they were too bluesy to be accepted by prog-heads and too proggy to be welcomed into the heavy riff-meister crowd. Getting on Bill Graham’s bad side during a US tour didn’t help matters much either. Suffice to say, that they created some of the most original music of that era. This track starts out with just bass, drums and piano, but then piles on added pieces until we have a full on marching band at the fade.

2) “Take Your Partners”-Family-1971- Also from “Fearless” , the first cut on side 2 is a high octane rocker with that Wetton bass churning and thumping to lead the way.

3) “Spanish Tide”-Family-1971-Guilty as charged, I really love the “Fearless” album. On this track, John sings solo on that glorious bridge section as well as harmony on the choruses.

4) “My Friend The Sun”-Family-1972-This is from the “Bandstand” album, and I think I remember Rock NYC correspondent Bob Nevin telling me he had the 45, which raised his “Nessing Cool Factor” to infinite. Great background vocal track by Wetton , and Roger Chapman delivers one of his most beautiful vocal leads. Chapman was mostly known for his powerful range and vibrato (think Steve Marriott to the fourth power), but here his voice turns up really sweet.

5) “Lark’s Tounges In Aspic, Part Two”-1973-King Crimson-From the album of the approximate same name, I actually could easily recommend the whole enchilada. A high watermark not just in the progressive vein, but in the entire output of late 20th century music.

6) “Lament”-1974-King Crimson—On their way towards becoming the most powerful of power trios, Wetton delivers an astounding vocal here. Not to be outdone, Robert Fripp and Bill Bruford match him riff for riff.

7) “Red”-1974-King Crimson—From the album of the same name, “Red” is as powerful a track as I’ve ever heard by anyone. Industrial Rock, Grunge Rock, Post Metal, Speed Metal, you name it, it can all be traced back to this band and perhaps even this song.

8) “Do The Strand (live)” 1976- Roxy Music- The live album “Viva” is the most obvious place to find this but bootleg live recordings of Roxy with Wetton on bass and Eddie Jobson on keys and violin are worth seeking out. When this band performed in concert, they took no freaking prisoners.

9) “In The Dead Of Night” 1978-U.K.---Progressive Rock’s odd quartet consisted of one experimental side (Bill Bruford and Guitarist Allan Holdsworth) pitted against the increasingly more commercial leanings of Wetton and Jobson. This particular configuration of the band only lasted long enough to release one album, which although could be critically described as inconsistent has more than it’s share of great moments. Wetton’s vocals on this track are raw, unpolished and pretty damn great.

The Alex Chilton Playlist

I’ve been listening to a lot of the Big Star box set, “Keep An Eye On The Sky” this summer, and I cannot emphasize enough how great it is. I’ve also been listening to some of the Alex Chilton solo work, specifically “Like Flies On Sherbert” and while it’s also great, it shares that distinction for a whole set of entirely different reasons.

The entire Big Star catalog is a masterpiece. A shimmering, towering template of the entire genre of what would later be known as power pop. Songs with hooks to spare, played brilliantly with emphasis on guitar jangle, punchy bass and powerful drums that tie it all together.

“Like Flies On Sherbert” is the exact opposite. This record is Chilton giving the middle finger on both hands to the entire recording process and the music industry, to boot. Similar to what Brian Wilson did when he released “Smiley Smile”, but 100 times more blatant. The album is loaded with false starts, errors and hap hazardous vocals.

It’s unclear how much of the recording of this was accidental or on purpose, but there is no doubt that the mistakes were left in for all to witness. It was a conscious decision by Chilton to have the record sound sloppy. Producer Jim Dickinson goes so far as to say that during the recording of this ragged masterpiece there were times on some songs where “there was nobody in the control room”. Instruments used for the recording were sometimes not fully functional or in some cases broken entirely.

It’s open debate as to why Chilton did this, but he provides some insight here: When sessions began he thought to himself, "’Man these guys don't know the songs...this must sound terrible'. But when I went in the control room and heard what we’d been doing, it was just incredible sounding. Getting involved with Dickinson opened up a new world for me. Before that I'd been into careful layerings of guitars and voices and harmonies and things like that, and Dickinson showed me how to go into the studio and just create a wild mess and make it sound really crazy and anarchic. That was a growth for me."[

If you can get past the records blatant anti-commercial stance, it is at it’s core, a do it yourself tour-de-force with flaws that actually make it sound better. Kind of like a hand-made charm bracelet that makes your wrist turn green. I recommend approaching it in small doses at first, juxtaposed against his more polished Big Star work if possible.

The Big Star Playlist

“The Ballad Of El Goodo”-There’s a lyric bit on the second verse that goes “People round you tell you that they know…The places they have been, and it's easy to go…They'll zip you up and dress you down, and stand you in their role…You know you don't have to…You can just say no” In many ways that’s what “Like Flies On Sherbert” is all about….just saying “no”.

“Thirteen”- The ultimate coming of age ballad. Indestructible in it’s sentiment, delivered it that yearning trademark Chilton warble. Thank God nobody’s ruined this song by using it to sell pimple cream or something.

“When My Baby’s Beside Me” – To me, good rock and roll is supposed to be uplifting. This thing never fails to take me to the outer edge of the stratosphere.

“Daisy Glaze” This was the song that eventually made me realize how great Big Star really were. I had been listening to them for a few months and when I heard this track about the seventh or eighth time, it was a bonafide “holy shit” moment. It plods along at the beginning, providing the perfect contrast and subtext for the power pop payoff.

“You Get What You Deserve”- I’ve read rumors that some of these songs may have been written or co-written by Chris Bell. One of Big Star’s original members, he reportedly left after the first album, but may have anonymously turned up on some of these later efforts. Bell is another dominant figure in the Big Star story and will probably be the subject of a future blog piece. Either way, this on many days is my all time favorite Big Star track. Perfect verse, perfect chorus, followed by a killer power chord bridge. Then a guitar solo takes us back to the verse, but not before three beautifully understated taps of a snare drum.

The “Like Flies On Sherbert” playlist

“Hey! Little Child!” These sloppy double-tracked drums trip over each other at the outset before settling into a rudimentary groove. And what a groove it is.

“Walk Across Texas” You can almost taste the moonshine.

“Boogie Shoes” The piano bit is almost prolific. The guitar parts and vocals are a complete mess. The overall effect is just so damn charming.

“I’ve Had It”-The very essence of what Rock and Roll is supposed be. Three chords, no net. Listen and be amazed as Alex slurs and slithers his way over and around this incredible piece of authentic garage rock. If you’re listening and not on the floor convulsing in laughter, then you’re not alive.

In praise of the humble dawg

Hot dogs. They’re bad for you. They taste like shit. So why are they so good? Maybe it’s because they just act as a vehicle for whatever you like to put on them. Like wasabi on sushi. I love sushi too, but honestly I don’t crave the taste of raw salmon or tuna as much as I crave the sticky rice, chewy seaweed, and most importantly the nose flaring pungency of that sea green paste. Oh yeah, and lots of soy sauce.

Much like sushi, the tube steak and its cohort the bun serve as a virtual delivery system for what we really want to eat. Mustard and relish make a great combo and a nice crunchy contrast to that warm pink steamy vessel. Who could deny the glorious rapture of chili and cheese? Or the authentic mid-European tang of sauerkraut and onion dotted with bits of artery clogging salt pork.

Recently, I’ve discovered that cole slaw makes for a wonderful topping for a grilled doggy. Last night, I was trying to use up a head of cabbage that I’d had for a while and didn’t want to have to throw it out later. So, I commenced to grating. Memories of my dad came flooding back to mind as I recalled his own famous cole slaw. Other than his penchant for using Cain’s mayonnaise, I really have no idea how he made it, but I’m sure there was no recipe per se, and he just eyeballed everything.

I used a box grater to shred this stuff nice and fine so it would suck up that mayonnaise right away. If you grate it too thick, the cabbage stays too crunchy unless you let it sit overnight. Then I shredded a couple of carrots the same way. Had to settle for Hellman’s instead of Cain’s, then shook out some salt and pepper. Then I added about a tablespoon or so of Italian salad dressing, just for a little complexity. I don’t really know how much mayo I used, maybe a half a cup to about one small head of cabbage.

The end result was pure bliss. After grilling those dogs a little bit, and sliding them into those gluten rich white bread overcoats, we then piled on the slaw. The creamy, crunchy texture provided the perfect counterpart for that soft bread and the mysterious meat wrapped up in that crunchy intestinal casing. Swallowing this oversized bullet in two or three glorious mouthfuls, the idea of wasabi paste on a hot dog came to mind. Hmm, it would be much less messy and clear your sinuses too. Perhaps next time.

"Brian Wilson Re-imagines Gershwin" to be released on 8/17-I rehash his solo career today.

Thirty second sound samples of the new Brian Wilson record hit Amazon.com late last week, and I have to say, I’m somewhat encouraged by them. This is great news to me because in my opinion, Wilson’s solo career is a mixed bag of highs and lows (mostly lows).

We have to go all the way back to 1966, and “Caroline, No” to chart BW’s solo work to it’s very beginning. Although it appeared on the Beach Boys Pet Sounds album, the 45 release was credited to him as a solo artist. Granted, it’s a tough act to follow, but it hurts me as a fan to realize that other than a few shimmering moments, it’s mostly downhill from there.

It wouldn’t be until 1988 that Wilson would follow this up with his first proper solo LP. “Brian Wilson”, although somewhat drenched in dated production techniques that would soil so much of what was released in the eighties, was still a good and in some instances a great collection of songs. They served to not only bring him back into the public eye, but also boded well for the future.

The follow up, “Sweet Insanity” was rejected by Sire Records and it’s hard to understand why. Perhaps Wilson’s collaboration with his psychiatrist and that doctor's subsequent exposure as someone who was allegedly taking advantage of the man resulted in too much negative publicity. Either way, a pretty decent effort was left to rot on the shelf where it remains to this day.

In the fall of 1994, Wilson released “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times” , an album of new recordings consisting of some of Wilson’s best loved tunes spanning his entire career produced by the "It" producer of that moment, Don Was. I can still remember my excitement as I walked to the record store on my lunch break to snag my copy on the day it was released. The original versions are still better for the most part, but this was a pretty good record and I actually prefer the versions of “Melt Away” and “Love And Mercy” here over the originals. It was also a treat to hear Wilson singing lead on some of the vocals originally handed to Mike Love back in the day on things like “Meant For You” and “Do It Again”. Overall, a solid effort.

I’m disqualifying “Orange Crate Art” from these proceedings because from a songwriting standpoint, it is essentially a Van Dyke Parks album with Brian on vocals.

That brings us to 1998’s “Imagination”, which is not terrible, but pales in comparison to the quality of the songs Wilson collaborated on with Andy Paley from around the same time frame that were unceremoniously scrapped. These were supposed to be released and for a time were even considered to be the main output of a Beach Boys album to be produced by Sean O’Hagan of The High Llamas. Some reports indicate that Carl Wilson and Mike Love lost interest in the endeavor, causing Brian to just drop the whole project and start over again. Other reports, such as the one in Britain’s “Uncut” magazine, seemed to hint that Wilson’s new wife Melinda, was trying to sway Brian away from the project and more towards the adult contemporary sound that permeates much of “Imagination”. It has some good songs, but the overly slick and antiseptic production kills the good time for me.

Not counting the two live albums (At The Roxy and Pet Sounds Live), it would be another six years before 2004’s “Getting’ In Over My Head” would reach store shelves. This unfortunate effort is mostly a mixed bag of “Sweet Insanity” tracks, and some songs from The Andy Paley collaboration finally seeing their official light of day. Unfortunately, this pot pourii of leftovers never makes it off the ground, despite it’s good intentions.

Hardcore Beach Boys fans know all about 1967’s ill – fated SMiLE project, intended to be the follow up to “Pet Sounds”. The album was never released, falling victim to it’s own lofty ambition, combined with dissension within the band regarding it’s musical approach. Over time, that music would become stuff of legend, as bootlegs would find their way into better record stores and on the internet.

Wilson would finally return to that music in late 2003, recording new versions and most importantly, stringing all the bits and fragments together in a working order to present a finished piece. “Brian Wilson Presents SMiLE” was one of the most positively reviewed records of 2004, and perhaps of all time. Although the jury is still out as to whether or not it was exactly put together the way it was initially intended, it’s miles closer than the tape fragments we had up to this point, and great care was taken to re-record that music as closely as possible to the original tapes, save for a few synthesized orchestral parts that turn up here and there.

After the release of a Christmas album that honestly I never even bothered to spin, Wilson returned in 2008 with “That Lucky Old Sun”. Although the loose concept and at times annoying narratives fall a little flat for me, It can arguably be stated that TLOS is the best collection of new Brian Wilson songs since the 1988 debut. In addition to this, it seems that more care is taken towards the production end of things to make the record sound more natural, without falling victim to some of the unnecessary vocal layering and the overuse of bass harmonicas, sleigh bells, clip clop percussion and other instruments that were purposely used to make “Imagination” and “Getting In Over My Head” sound “Wilson-ey”. In other words, the songs stand on their own a little more during this effort, and it works to the projects advantage.

This brings us to the present day, where we await the release of “Brian Wilson Re-imagines Gershwin” on August 17th. While I intend to review the album properly once it’s available, it would appear (based on the Amazon sound snippets) that the Wilson team has hit upon a winning combination. The songs of course are amazing, all Gershwin classics except for two unfinished pieces that have never been heard before and finished by Brian. The recordings are shimmering and beautiful, but this seems to be brought about by a natural progression and a labor of love rather than incessant turd polishing.

While I continue to reserve judgment until hearing the entire record, I’m once again encouraged by what I’ve heard so far, and combined with the positive buzz that appears to be swelling up around this effort, I’m going to color myself cautiously optimistic.

The Sunshine Bores The Daylights Out Of Me

I once joked to my friend Iman that I could never be a real music critic because I’d never heard “Exile” or “The River”. Although the comment was very much off the cuff, it was rooted in a little bit of truth because I really had not heard those records from start to finish. Also, if you’re really a rock critic it’s your job to hear everything so that when you write something you can do a better job at convincing your readers that you actually know what you’re talking about.

I’ve never been that much of a Springsteen fan. I acknowledge that he is great, but just not my cup of tea. The Stones, on the other hand I’ve been a fan of most of my life, so it’s hard to explain exactly why “Exile On Main Street” never found it’s way to my turntable or hard drive. I was of course, familiar with the three radio hits on the record but not the entire effort.

So, I really felt like I had to rectify this. Spinning “Exile” for the first time a couple of months ago I was compelled to write a post asking really what all the fuss was about. It seemed alright, but it kind of went out of it’s way to sound like some sort of authentic delta blues record. Too forced. My initial knee – jerk opinion was that an album like “Aftermath” had a much higher level of that bluesy authenticity while at the same time not trying half as hard to deliver the goods as “Exile” does.

So I went back to try to find some of the original reviews and I was quite surprised to read that the notices were somewhat mixed. Playboy magazine yearned for “The Stones of Yesteryear”. Circus magazine said “From the sound of things, the Stones weren't exiled on Main Street...they were deported.”

Robert Christgau gave the record an A+. However, even in doing so he acknowledged that it’s not the type of record that’s going to come right out and grab you from the git-go. He wrote, “More than anything else this fagged-out masterpiece is difficult -- how else to describe music that takes weeks to understand? Weary and complicated, barely afloat in its own drudgery, it rocks with extra power and concentration as a result. More indecipherable than ever, submerging Mick's voice under layers of studio murk, it piles all the old themes -- sex as power, sex as love, sex as pleasure, distance, craziness, release -- on top of an obsession with time more than appropriate in over-thirties committed to what was once considered youth music.”

These words seemed to vindicate my initial feelings. I almost felt like a rock critic. Thing is though, Christgau got the point about the record way before I did. He realized before he sat down at his typewriter that the sloppiness and murkiness that permeates “Exile” is precisely the point. He must have listened to the record dozens more times than the guys from Playboy and Circus did, because he did a better job at reviewing it. As I listen to “Exile” while typing this and glancing at his words, it may be the most spot on review ever written.

So, I’m still listening to “Exile On Main Street” this summer, and it’s charms continue to slowly reveal themselves to me with each subsequent spin. It still does not make complete sense yet, but good albums are supposed to challenge you a little bit, aren’t they? This one challenged me a lot, so it might actually be better than just good.

"Can I play you, um, some of the new things I've been doing which I think could be...commercial?"

I first heard “In The Court Of The Crimson King” when I was seven years old. Those who know me may be quick to quip something droll like “well, that explains a lot”, and in retrospect, the album cover alone can be quite a mind fuck for someone so young. But it was the contents within the wax that was the real brain bender. This music was brilliant, challenging, beautiful and scary all at the same time.

“Court” would play almost non stop at my house over much of 1969. Over the course of each subsequent year, each new King Crimson album from “In The Wake Of Poseidon” to “Red” would be bought and placed into heavy rotation on the family’s imitation wood grain stereo console.

Everything about the music seemed larger than life, especially through the eyes of an adolescent. The matte finish of the record jackets, the artwork, the complexities of the music itself, all seemed to be coming from a mountainous peak way up high in the sky.

Even though these childhood fantasies would wane and adolescence would reveal among other things that King Crimson were just a band, it was still surprising that some eight years later the main force behind them was a mere 100 or so miles from my doorstep in Hells Kitchen, NY trying to decide if he even wanted to be a musician anymore.

Robert Fripp disbanded King Crimson sometime during late 1974. Over seven studio albums he went from lead guitarist to almost being kicked out of the band to becoming their only constant member and prime motivator.

After a brief period where he considered among other things joining the priesthood, Fripp would instead would become a free lance axe for hire, playing guitar and sometimes producing records by Peter Gabriel and David Bowie. These sessions kept him busy but may have been somewhat unfulfilling, because in 1977, Fripp traveled to NYC to check out the burgeoning downtown music scene, keen on attempting to hone a new approach and get back his creative spark.

He played and recorded with Blondie and Talking Heads as well as producing the female vocal group The Roches. He also embarked upon a series of collaborations with artists such as Daryl Hall, Eno, Peter Hammill, Jerry Morrata, Phil Collins, Tony Levin, and Terre Roche. Many of these endeavors would be ultimately released on his first solo album, “Exposure”, released in June of 1979.

It comes as no surprise that this eclectic mix of artists would produce one of the most bizarre combinations of styles and sounds ever assembled under a groove. What is surprising is how seamlessly it all flows together. Daryl Hall delivers some of the most beautiful vocals he’s ever recorded on the positively immaculate “North Star”.

Other tracks like “Breathless” and “Disengage” rock ferociously with guitar riffage as heavy as anything Fripp had ever attempted during the Crimson years. The album’s second track, “You Burn Me Up, I’m A Cigarette”, is both a nod to the NYC new wave scene combined with the flavor of classics by rock pioneers such as Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry.

By the time the sheer beauty of “Water Music” and “Here Comes The Flood” wash over my now over stimulated ear drums, I find myself looking down at my watch, wondering where the last 45 minutes or so have gone. As it was in 1969, 1979, and today the music of Robert Fripp remains beautiful, brilliant, challenging and scary all at the same time.