Friday, July 3, 2026

Flock of Dimes - Everything Is Happening Today


Handstamp: You’ve spoken before about your relationship with Baltimore, but what was your personal access to live music like when you were younger?

Jenn Wasner: “Oh, my gosh. I mean, that was honestly the thing that kept me in Baltimore. When I was in high school, I was dead set on leaving as quickly as I could. It just so happened that the Baltimore music scene in the mid 2000’s was and still is sort of understood to be one of those defining music scenes. We had these huge zeitgeist moments, where all of these bands were coming out of Baltimore. But yeah, it was a really vibrant community that I was exposed to from a pretty young age. I saw a lot of stuff that was pretty formative to my development.”

Handstamp: What was the first show you saw?

Jenn Wasner: “Oh, man. I remember there was a warehouse venue in West Baltimore where I saw a lot of bands, including maybe one of Beach House’s first shows. I remember seeing them lug their 250-pound organ up six flights of stairs and thinking ‘these guys are committed.’”

Handstamp: Back when they had to still play with regular stage lighting, I guess.

Jenn Wasner: “Right, or no lighting at all, just a room. I have a terrible memory and don’t remember my life very well, which I’m trying to work on, but I usually remember these things by going to my friends or bandmates, who have a better memory for those things. I definitely saw the band Ponytail pretty early on and was blown away by that. I saw Future Islands early too.”

Handstamp: What was that like? Was Samuel (T. Herring, Future Islands) bringing the same energy to the early shows?

Jenn Wasner: “Yeah. Every show I’ve ever seen them play has been full on. It didn’t matter if it was in front of 10 people, it was sort of what they were known for. Wye Oak was actually on tour with Future Islands in 2014 when the Letterman performance kind of popped off. It was interesting to see because I’d been seeing his on-stage charisma every night and it was like an open secret, so it was really fun to watch the world respond to it like that. They also have great songs, but he certainly has that natural performer energy.”

Handstamp: I interrupted while you were in your Baltimore flow…

Jenn Wasner: “Not at all. There was a restaurant where I worked, named Golden West Café, where they would have shows after hours. One of the earliest shows I remember seeing there was Sharon Van Etten. She had put no music out at that point. She was opening for a band that I had never heard of, playing solo. We had never met and I had just worked that night, so was exhausted, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible, but she literally stopped me in my tracks. I remember turning around, then just sitting down to watch the whole set. She played the song ‘Consolation Prize’ when I realised that she was special and not somebody I could walk out on. We met that night and have been friends ever since.”

Handstamp: Was your time at Golden West Café one of the biggest catalysts in your pursuit of this thing?

Jenn Wasner: “I was already in pretty deep, to be honest. I had bands all through high school and was writing songs already at that point. That was around 2005, 2006 and would have been the time Wye Oak, or Monarch as we were called before, we were already making music. So, I was already obsessed and fixated on it but, I mean, I learned a lot about what being in a band could mean and how adventurous music could be. It also taught me about the importance of a strong, DIY-rooted community. That’s something I am figuring out 20 years later, as I try to re-access and reimplement it into my own career, because there’s just no replacement for it.”

Handstamp: Totally right. Starting so early, I guess your relationship with watching live shows was different to other people your age? Could you still absorb shows from an objective point of view?

Jenn Wasner: “I think I always have been able to and I still can. It would be an unpleasant sensation to not feel it, in the same way fans or audience members are able to access that feeling of connection. There are parts of making art and music that are under siege by turning it into your day job, but I think it’s probably time to call it a day when you’re completely separate from the experience of being an appreciator and observer, which is such an essential source of inspiration. If we lose that, what are we even doing?”

Handstamp: It seems like you really value the performer-audience relationship.

Jenn Wasner: “I think that’s why I find myself drawn towards smaller shows, with less production value because I do think at a certain point, no matter how good you are, when you expand to a certain point, it becomes about the spectacle in a way that I don’t really care about. So, for me, I am always bumping against that idea of growing and expanding, because then you have to have conversations around lighting packages and a backdrop or whatever. I could give a fuck. I do not care. The further away I get from people, the less I enjoy the experience of doing what I do.’
“I also don’t think I’m a natural entertainer. I think I am an artist and musician, so a lot of the things that come from expanding are just trappings of entertainment, which is an area that I don’t really feel at home in. It always feels a bit forced, so I think the show is the show, the show is the music, the show is the band, the show is the songs.”

Handstamp: You have been part of more elaborate shows though, haven’t you?

Jenn Wasner: “I’ve played in massive bands. I played in Bon Iver and you know, the songs are incredible, the band is incredible, but you also had to have a crazy fucking laser lightshow. That was a fun and cool thing to be a part of, but it takes so much work, time and money. It’s an incredible thing to watch people execute, but it’s never going to be for me, as my songs are a little smaller and my ambitions are a little more humble.”

Handstamp: Do you value those experiences of playing with such a wide array of artists, at varying stages of their careers?

Jenn Wasner: “I treasure the experience, when I’m playing other people’s music. It’s been huge for my development, as a musician and as someone who often acts in support of other people’s work. It also just feels like a superpower, like, I remember when I joined Bon Iver and I was rehearsing to play in the Chase Center Arena, while also playing a basement show in Oakland. That sort of kills the romantic fantasy that a lot of people have, or the trap they fall into of thinking that bigger is always better, that validation comes from getting more people in the room. Those are the principles of unchecked capitalism, applied to art.’
“A lot of musicians, myself included have the experience of playing in huge places like that, then walking away feeling like they were floating in space, or playing a show on a weird asteroid in the middle of nothingness. It’s also hard to tell if it sounds good and difficult to hear your fellow musicians because they’re a hundred feet away from you. It almost feels like a simulation of a performance.’
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s good to free yourself from the aspirational treadmill of thinking that’s going to be the thing that makes you feel good about performance or good about your art. I’m grateful to have experienced it from all sides, so I understand that’s not where gratification is going to come from.”

Handstamp: The ‘disease of more’. I recently spoke to the artist Madi Diaz, who has played with Harry Styles in stadiums and enjoyed it, but it also quenched her thirst for those intimate shows that allow an audience to truly lean in. You mentioned the issue of space between band members, I guess it’s pretty hard to connect with somebody who is 20 feet away, especially if you’re a band that really depend on ‘feel’.

Jenn Wasner: “Oh, it’s next to impossible. It can be guesswork. It’s no accident that I’m now playing in living rooms, as much as I’ve loved playing with those bands. It feels so good and more human to talk to everybody who comes to the shows, have a conversation, person-to-person. I don’t think the fact that music is my calling makes me more special than anybody else. It’s important for me to lead with humanity and not place myself on a pedestal. Playing these shows makes you feel like a troubadour, back when music really felt like an act of service, or a working-class enterprise. It’s nothing to do with the building of celebrity, which robs you of your humanity.”

Handstamp: You moved to North Carolina in 2015. How would you compare your musical life there to the one you had in Baltimore?

Jenn Wasner: “North Carolina has a smaller community, with fewer people. The energy is very different, which is part of why I was drawn to it. Baltimore was absolutely transformative and exceptional, but there was also a slight distrust of success beyond the city, that lied within the DIY ethic. I make less adventurous music than some of those bands that broke out, I was a songwriter, sometimes making weird songs with unexpected arrangements, subversive themes, but ultimately I was singing my songs, which Baltimore wasn’t super oriented toward at the time.’
“When I moved to North Carolina, I found myself suddenly around people who were really big fans of my work and were super encouraging. There was a real positivity that felt really comforting, so I just moved towards it and it really changed my life. I loved my time in North Carolina in many ways, I even fantasise about returning there, even though I love LA too. I really needed that energy that I received there, as well as the lack of judgement. I was in my late 20s and nobody feels awesome about themselves at that time, with a few exceptions.”

Handstamp: I think, for a lot of people, myself included, that shift of no longer seeking approval happens in your 30s.

Jenn Wasner: “I think so, at least it did for me.”

Handstamp: You mentioned living in Los Angeles. I recently spoke to somebody who said you really can’t walk down the street without seeing a session musician you recognise in LA. How do you feel that has impacted you creatively?

Jenn Wasner: “That’s true. You know, I think the jury’s still out on that one, because we just got here and it has been a rocky, tumultuous year. We had been planning to move here for about a year, moved across the country, then the week we got here was the week of the fires. So, we spent the whole first month unsure if we were going to stay. We got evacuated, so it was a really scary, confusing time. It also takes time to become accustomed to living in a new place, especially after such a challenging entrance, but I’m excited to be here.’
“There are so many musicians here that I admire and I’m interested in collaborating with. I think there’s something about being physically present here, where without really trying, certain connections just happen. For example, I made music yesterday with this really wonderful artist who I really admire from Australia, her name is Angie McMahon.”

Handstamp: She’s great, I look forward to hearing that.

Jenn Wasner: “She’s fantastic. We’ve been writing songs together and I only met her because I moved here, I was introduced to her, we had a coffee and next thing you know, we’re collaborating. That’s just the kind of thing that happens here like it doesn’t elsewhere. It feels important to me in this moment to spend a little time here and see what kind of opportunities and connections present themselves.”

Handstamp: Yeah, the importance of proximity can’t be overstated. The Life You Save is a really beautiful and personal record. How have you found the process of sharing such personal songs with a live audience?

Jenn Wasner: “I would say the experience of just going public with the record and putting the music out in the smouldering hellscape that is what’s left of the music industry in 2025 has been less than awesome. The experience of sharing the songs with physically present live audiences at shows has been wonderful. So it’s really been a mixed experience.”

Handstamp: Can you explain more about the challenges that you mentioned?

Jenn Wasner: “Well, I’m really proud of the record. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. I know everybody says that but I’m singing and performing better than ever, I also have the best band I’ve ever had and I’m really proud of what we’ve done together.’
“It’s just disappointing to have to bump up against the limitations that exist. I was talking to Angie when we met, about how there really is no music industry, it’s just a bunch of different tech companies. It has become so demoralizing to try to exist within that. But I believe in art, I believe people need art and that there’s a purpose for music. I feel no less dedicated to that path. The problem is not with the music and the audience, the problem is everything that’s getting in the way. I feel committed to making the things that I want to make and sharing them with people, however scrappy and resilient I have to be.”

Handstamp: It must be discouraging, especially given the nature of the record. Has that belief you describe ever faded?

Jenn Wasner: “It’s a vulnerable thing, you know? There was a big part of me that really didn’t want to put out this record, a part of me that doesn’t really feel like talking about it. There’s a big part of me that just thought it would be easier not to. But seeing it as part of my lived experience, it felt like something I needed to do for myself and also that it would be selfish to not at least offer it to people who may see themselves in it. I haven’t felt a whole lot of representation around a lot of this stuff in the culture, so it feels good to be part of whatever conversation is happening.”

Handstamp: Is that conversation happening? Have you heard of the songs finding those people so far?

Jenn Wasner: “You know, I believe that the music moves on its own. Once you start the ball rolling, people will share the music they love with the people they love, so it’s out there ricocheting around in ways that I may never actually be aware of.”

From: https://handstamp.substack.com/p/a-handstamp-interview-with-flock 


Preoccupations - Disarray


Preoccupations walk a high wire. On the one hand, the Canadian post-punk quartet, who originally took their name from the brutal insurgent group the Viet Cong and only changed it three years into their career after extended protests, tend to come off casually apolitical. “We’re just playing music,” frontman Matt Flegel said regarding the name’s backlash in a 2016 interview. On the other hand, their music often concerns the political sphere and the toll it takes on the psyche. They’ve written songs about the deadening effects of mass media and songs satirizing capitalism’s ethos of progress at any cost. Theirs is dark, paranoid music; Flegel sings as if he’s keeping one eye trained over his shoulder while the world around him drops deeper into chaos.
The contrast between the hapless stance they take in interviews and the tough subjects they tackle sincerely in their lyrics can make Preoccupations feel like two bands at once: one that doesn’t want to be taken too seriously, and one that does. That paradox has lent them an aura of poisoned irony, an air they manage to shake off, somewhat, with their third album, New Material. In a statement, Flegel called the LP an “ode [to] depression and self-sabotage, and looking inward at yourself with extreme hatred.” All of the above are states in which contradictory statements can simultaneously seem true (you have friends but not real friends; drugs are both killing you and keeping you alive), and could also explain how wounded, serious art that urgently wants to be heard comes wrapped up in a name like New Material.
Written collaboratively in the studio, the record furthers the band’s dual focus on moody, industrial atmospheres, and warmly melodic vocal lines. While on their first two albums—2015’s Viet Cong and 2016’s Preoccupations—Flegel often sang against the grain of each song, as if he were competing with the clamor of the instruments, he opts instead to settle into their flow here. On “Doubt” and “Disarray,” his voice sways along with his bandmate Scott Munro’s synth chords, like he’s being carried by a slow, hot breeze. Even as he continues to sing about hopelessness and disillusionment (”It’s easy to see why everything you’ve ever been told is a lie,” he murmurs on “Disarray”), the new arrangements supply an easier entry point into Preoccupations’ music than their earlier works. The band’s defeatism takes on a new tenor: battle-worn, sincere, and not quite so antagonistic. That may mean that New Material lacks the punch of their feisty debut, but it also lends these songs a soothing quality. They’re so heavy they’ve curled up in a ball on the ground.
In addition to adopting a new melodic strategy, Flegel also seems to have narrowed the focus of his lyrics. While Viet Cong and Preoccupations saddled their songs with abstract, worldly woes, *New Material’*s angst is more interpersonal; the lyric sheet is dotted with the word “you” and one of the record’s high points, “Manipulation,” even sees Flegel crying out in romantic torment: “Please don’t remember me like I’ll always remember you,” he sings. The plea comes at the song’s energetic climax, after a towering drum roll, which only deepens its abjection. Instead of asking to be held fondly in someone’s memory, Flegel begs to be forgotten, an artful rendering of the depressive desire to disappear completely.
By staging the album on the battleground of the self, and the self’s relationship to other people instead of society writ large, Preoccupations have made their most intimate album to date. Flegel still goes into a few word-salad tailspins—the “information overdose” and “uneven ratios under a microscope” at the end of “Antidote” sound like someone obliquely complaining about Twitter—but the soft production of his voice, and its holistic integration into the rest of the band’s sound, makes him sound more earnest than before. With New Material, Preoccupations wrestle with a conundrum that’s plagued many denizens of this data-numbed era: how to let yourself be vulnerable when all you want to do is make a joke of your suffering.  From: https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/preoccupations-new-material/ 

 

Patsy Cline - Walkin' After Midnight


"Walkin' After Midnight" is a song written by Alan Block and Don Hecht. The song was originally given to pop singer Kay Starr, but her label rejected it. The song was left unused until Hecht rediscovered it when writing for 4 Star Records. The first released recording was by Lynn Howard with the Accents, released in August 1956. It was later recorded by American country music singer Patsy Cline in November 1956 and released as a single in February the following year. Originally, Cline was not fond of "Walkin' After Midnight", but after making a compromise with her label, she recorded it.
On January 21, 1957, Cline was invited to perform a song on the CBS television program hosted by Arthur Godfrey entitled Arthur Godfrey's Talent Scouts, a talent competition made up of rising young, unknown professionals. She originally intended to perform "A Poor Man's Roses (Or a Rich Man's Gold)" on the show, but the producers preferred "Walkin' After Midnight." Against her wishes, Cline performed the song during the program's 8:30 pm slot. The excessive audience applause froze the show's applause meter, and Cline won first place on that night's show. Because of the strong response, Decca Records (4 Star leased their music to Decca) released "Walkin' After Midnight" as a single in February 1957.  From: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walkin%27_After_Midnight 


Miracle Glass Company - T.R.O.U.B.L.E.


ME: For a little background, how did Miracle Glass Company come to be?


We had all been in different bands in Edinburgh, then me and Austen George had the idea to do a 3-piece rock n’ roll thing. I thought it would be cool if we could all sing harmonies and write songs too, so we asked Andy Duncan to get involved and we took it from there.
 
ME: How would you describe your sound for someone that has never heard it before?


Catchy rockin’ tunes performed on Electric guitar, bass, drums and 3 part vocal harmonies, with the odd psychedelic freak out.
 
ME: How do you guys feel that your music has been perceived on this tour?


People who are into it really love it. We find some folk seem to be conditioned against rock’n’roll, for whatever reason, and are into something else, but we’ve been managing to turn them on to what we’re doing. You can’t beat the energy of good rock’n’roll played loud and sweaty, and we’re also pretty keen on a good melody hook so everyone can get in to it.
 
ME: You said you will be pulling out some new material that people have never heard before?


Yeah, 2 or 3 new numbers which are sounding cracking.

ME: What are you most excited for fans to hear?


Everything. The old stuff is still new to most people too, although there are more and more people showing up to gigs and singing along with our songs. But we are getting tighter and the sound is constantly evolving and improving all the time. So, yeah, everything.
 
ME: 2017 is off to a great start for you guys, having been announced for Carnival Fifty Six alongside The Van T’s, Indigo Velvet and WHITE – Is there anything specific that you’re most excited about so far?


That looks like a really good one, I quite fancy that. Otherwise, just looking forward to getting around the UK in a van and spreading the music far and wide. Also, recording MGC2…
 
ME: What bands/artists have you been listening to lately?


We all like different stuff. As I write this I’m listening to Kashmir by Led Zeppelin. I think we’re going to start putting Miracle Glass Company playlists up on Spotify to let people get an idea of what we’re into. We listen to a lot of good old stuff in the van – The Band, Toots, Little Feat, Chuck Berry, Blind Faith, Manassass, James Brown. Are far as modern acts go, Father John Misty, Lana Del Rey, Tame Impala.

ME: And finally, what is to come for Miracle Glass Company in the next 6 months?

We have a pretty cool music video for our song TROUBLE. It was animated by Scott Morriss from The Bluetones (we toured with them last year) and he’s done a brilliant job. We also have our bi-monthly gig in Edinburgh, it’s called Late Night In The Big City and we invite other acts and DJs to come and put on a show with us. The first one was awesome and I’m really looking forward to the 28th of April when we’ll be playing with Glasgow’s Medicine Men and we’ll have 2 guest DJs spinning the very best rock’n’soul tunes of all time. It’ll be brilliant.

From: https://musicexistence.com/blog/2017/04/02/interview-and-show-review-miracle-glass-company-at-broadcast-glasgow-31317/


Besvärjelsen - The Cardinal Ride


Hot on the heels of the release of their sophomore full-length "Atlas" last Friday, May 27, Swedish forest rockers Besvärjelsen have launched a new driven and steaming video for the track "The Cardinal Ride".
Besvärjelsen have previously commented on "The Cardinal Ride": "First time I heard the riff for this song I knew I wanted to go punk and messy with the melodies and lyrics", singer Lea Amling Alazam wrote. "I had been reading The Seven Deadly Sins by Karin Boye and the book was lying on the table as I was listening to the track.The first line that came to mind was 'a rollercoaster of the seven deadly sins.' Life is a fucked-up rollercoaster and you never know how the path will turn next, so I wanted to celebrate the ugly parts of life. We live in a glass house society, in which people want to portray themselves as if they have their shit together and be on the right side of life, while most of us are messed up, confused, horny bastards with no self control. It's okay to be a fuck-up. It's okay to run through life not knowing where the hell the road is going. But if you are the type of person, who always gets super drunk and cries at parties, maybe it's time to go and see a shrink. Because chaos is fun, but taking mental health serious is even much cooler. See ya'll in hell!"
Erik Bäckwall added: "Well, "Cardinal Ride" was the only song on the album that started as a jam and evolved from there", the drummer continued. "It was faster at first and had the working name "Sendrag", which means 'Cramp' due to the effect it had on my right leg. The track went through several iterations before Johan finally nailed the arrangement and Lea came up with the perfect vocal melody and lyrics for it."  From: https://www.metalkaoz.com/metal-news/27776-besvarjelsen-release-the-cardinal-ride-music-video


 

The Rolling Stones - We Love You


The Story Behind “We Love You” by The Rolling Stones and How It Was a Message to The Beatles, The Who, and The London Times.
On February 12, 1967, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Marianne Faithfull, and art dealer Robert Fraser were arrested on drug charges after a raid on Richards’s Redlands country estate in West Wittering, England. Jagger brought a lawsuit against News of the World for libel over an article reporting on The Rolling Stones’ drug use. The newspaper had previously published an article about Scottish folk singer Donovan, who was busted shortly thereafter. The Rolling Stones went into the recording studio between the bust and trial to record a song. It was in response to the wave of support the band felt from their fans, fellow pop stars, and musicians. Let’s take a look at the story behind “We Love You” by The Rolling Stones.

The Beatles

Before the trials began, The Rolling Stones recorded “We Love You” at Olympic Recording Studios in June 1967. In 1990, Rolling Stones bassist Bill Wyman wrote in Stone Alone, “In the run-up to the court trials, we virtually dispersed, apart from recording one song: Mick, Keith, and Brian [Jones] had been warmed by the sympathetic messages from fans anxious about the crackdown on them, and Mick and Keith wrote a song by way of thanks. …. In July, John Lennon and Paul McCartney overdubbed backup vocals as a gesture of support. … The interaction between the Stones and The Beatles was always friendly, particularly since Mick and Keith and John and Paul had all embraced a hippie philosophy. In mid-June, Brian played tenor sax on a Beatles recording session for the song “You Know My Name (Look Up the Number).” Beatles experts have for 20 years been uncertain of whether it was the Stones Brian or another Brian Jones (of the Liverpool group The Undertakers) on the record. I can confirm, categorically, that it was our Brian: he said so. Paul McCartney remembers asking Brian to a Beatles session at Abbey Read in June 1967. To our surprise, he brought along a sax. I remember him turning up in this big Afghan coat at Abbey Road, and he opened up a sax case and we said, ‘We’ve got a little track here,’ and so he played sax on it. It was a crazy record, a sort of B-side. … It’s a funny sax solo—it isn’t amazingly well played, but it happened to be exactly what we wanted, a ropey sax, kind of shaky. Brian was very good like that.”

The Who

With the uncertainty of the coming trials, The Rolling Stones were not going to be able to release a new album anytime soon. As a show of solidarity, The Who had an emergency meeting and decided to record two Jagger and Richards originals as a tribute. They recorded “The Last Time” and “Under My Thumb” to keep their music in the public eye. The Who placed a large ad in the Evening Standard and Evening News that read, “Special Announcement – The Who consider Mick Jagger and Keith Richard have been treated as scapegoats for the drug problem, and as a protest against the grave sentences imposed on them at Chichester yesterday, The Who are issuing today the first of a series of Jagger Richards songs to keep their work before the public until they are again free to record themselves.”

The London Times

The traditionally conservative London Times published an op-ed by editor William Rees-Mogg criticizing the prosecutions of Jagger and Richards, calling them unfounded and unnecessary. 

Brian Jones

The Rolling Stones were in the midst of recording Their Satanic Majesties Request. It was the summer of love, and the band was experimenting with different instrumentation and was still a year away from “Jumping Jack Flash,” where they fully embraced being a rock group. In late June 1967, Brian Jones had a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized. He returned to the studio when he was released and added a mellotron part to the recording. “We Love You” was released in the UK on August 18, 1967, after the outcome of the Redlands trials. A sound effect of a prison door slamming shut was added. Bill Wyman wrote, “The lawyers drove us all apart. I remember Mick asking where Brian was, and I said he’d been told not to hang out with us. He began to hang around with a horrible group of people who leeched off him, and he decayed physically, mentally, and musically. Then Brian would turn to me and ask: ‘What are the Stones doing?’ He almost didn’t consider himself a Stone anymore. I saw him in the studio, incapable of playing. Then, I knew the end had come. Because, normally, Brian’s musicianship in the studio was such that he would know if a note was a quarter-tone out of true.”

Promotional Film

Peter Whitehead directed a promo clip to accompany the single release. Unfortunately, the producer of the popular UK music show Top of the Pops refused to show it. Portions of the clip were reenactments of Oscar Wilde’s 1895 trial, with bandmembers in full costume. Jones is visibly less than healthy. The BBC did not officially ban the film; they simply refused to play it. In 2022, it was remastered and released online.

From: https://americansongwriter.com/the-story-behind-we-love-you-by-the-rolling-stones-and-how-it-was-a-message-to-the-beatles-the-who-and-the-london-times/


Magenta - Live at Real World Studios 2024


 Magenta - Live at Real World Studios 2024 - Part 1
 

 Magenta - Live at Real World Studios 2024 - Part 2
 
"Live At Real World" is an acoustic concert by Magenta recorded at the famous Real World studios owned by Peter Gabriel. It took place on November 21st of last year and was combined with the filming of a video, which is also being released on DVD. On the small stage, in addition to the band, there was room for a string quartet and an oboist. 
What can be said about this album? That it sounds great, convincing, and is wonderful to listen to? That's nothing new for Magenta. That it's an example of sincere and perfect artistic expression? That's a trademark of this band. That it's another attempt to capitalize on the excellent run of studio albums by this group? It's hardly surprising that Magenta, having so much good material, tries to present it again and again in ever-new versions: whether live (the album "Live At The Point"), or remixed (the collector's edition "The Collection"), or instrumental (the recently released album "Seven – The Instrumentals," featuring music from perhaps the band's most famous album without vocal tracks – although not entirely, as the famous "cha cha cha" remains in the recording of "Gluttony"), or expanded and newly mastered (the album "Seven – Special 2 Disc Edition"), or – as now – acoustic. 
If one wanted to be exceptionally malicious, one could even formulate the accusation that Magenta is trying to sell the same material in several different ways. But perhaps it's good that this is happening. As long as there are buyers for these subsequent albums, there's nothing wrong with it. Even more so, the acoustic album "Live At Real World" truly sheds new light on some well-known songs from our heroes' repertoire. I was most surprised (and at the same time very pleased) by the new, acoustic versions of the compositions "Hate You" (a song from Christina's solo repertoire, included on her album "Broken Lives & Bleeding Hearts" released this year, but under a different title – "Hanging By A Thread"), "Anger", "Demons", and above all, "Metamorphosis". They present the work of this highly accomplished band in a completely new light and show that Magenta excels both with a full instrumental setup and in an unplugged version.  Translated from: https://mlwz.pl/recenzje/plyty/5783-magenta-live-at-real-world 
 



Good NightOwl - Encounters - Visual Album


Daniel Lewis Cupps has been in many musical projects over the years such as Orestes, Fate Fell Short, Crossing at Red Lights, Post Divinorum Orchestra, Iodine, Case 23, and Perocity. He has worked under the name Dàn Solo and the rap project Reach the Highest. He now has 5 LPs and 2 EPs released under the name Good NightOwl and he produces, programs, composes, and records all sounds under the name.  

Encounters

1. The Thought Collector 
2. Encounters 
3. Another Phase 
4. All That You Find 
5. Ever-Changing Presence 

6. The Thought Collector (instrumental) 
7. Encounters (instrumental) 
8. Another Phase (instrumental) 
9. All That You Find (instrumental)
10. Ever-Changing Presence (instrumental)

- Daniel Cupps / guitars, bass, vocals, keyboards, MIDI programming, composer, lyrics & concepts
- Joshua Cook / drums, composer

"An immortal supernatural being made of light travels the universe possessively inhabiting the bodies of mortal creatures to better understand the nature of creation, life, destruction, and death."

From: https://www.progarchives.com/artist.asp?id=8221#biography 


The Band - S/T - Side 1


01 - Across The Great Divide
02 - Rag Mama Rag
03 - The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down
04 - When You Awake
05 - Up On Cripple Creek
06 - Whispering Pines

The Band’s second album might have been called America. Robbie Robertson and Levon Helm were both partial to that grandiose moniker—years later, it was one of the only things they still agreed on. Harvest was also considered, as the record was conceived as a concept album about the South that begins with the promise of spring and ends with the make-or-break finality of the fall, when a farmer pleads for deliverance from financial ruin in “King Harvest (Has Surely Come).” As it turned out, the Band left Harvest behind for friend Neil Young, who used it for his commercial breakthrough nearly three years later.
The Band surely is a record obsessed with America, made by a mostly Canadian quintet who explored this country’s roots right as the U.S. became politically and culturally unmoored in the late 1960s. Harvest would have worked as well, given Robertson’s burgeoning literary pretensions. But ultimately, this record needed to be called The Band because it’s about the Band—how these men worked together, the way their personalities intersected and completed each other, the very architecture of their friendship. The album dispels all of the assumptions we carry about how bands are supposed to work—the songwriter is all-powerful, the rhythm section is the supporting cast, hierarchies are inevitable. The Band instead operates on a paradigm in which the power comes from the bottom up and authority is dispersed evenly among compatriots.
Maybe all of the players in a band can be on equal footing, and not merely back up the resident genius. Perhaps the singers, who inspire the songwriter and transform his lyrics into colloquial truths with salt-of-the-earth nonchalance, are paramount. And what if that “resident genius” archetype is a myth anyway, compared with the reality of musicians who work together in obscurity for years until their collective telepathy makes them stars? The Band was once treasured as a communal hippie fantasy, the epitome of the era’s anti-consumerist back-to-the-land proselytizing. Except, for a while, the members of the Band truly excelled in a utopian, all-for-one, one-for-all setting. Their signature album is the closest that classic rock comes to pure socialism.
This selflessness doesn’t come at the expense of each member’s individuality. On the contrary, the five figures staring out from The Band’s brown and sepia album cover are as recognizable as the cast members of your favorite movie or TV show. From left to right, there’s Richard Manuel, the broken-hearted piano player; Helm, the indomitable drummer; Rick Danko, the affable bassist; Garth Hudson, organist and mad-scientist multi-instrumentalist; and Robertson, the guitarist, songwriter, and self-appointed orchestrator. That album cover is arguably just as influential as the music on The Band. For years afterward, wannabes would don mustaches and bowler hats inside countless bars and juke joints as an attempt to replicate what the original articles came by honestly, back when nobody cared and all these five guys had was each other.
The idea was to rent a house in the Hollywood Hills and find a happy medium between the homespun naturalism of the unreleased “basement tapes” recorded in upstate New York with Bob Dylan in 1967, and the austere slickness of the Band’s 1968 debut, Music From Big Pink, which was made at top-flight studios in Manhattan and Los Angeles. The guys wanted to get back to the informality of the Dylan sessions, so they looked for a place to create their own world free of industry professionals and “engineers and union people,” Danko later told Band biographer Barney Hoskyns. “We’d be thinking Harveyburgers, and they’d be thinking caviar.”
The Band chose a scenic mansion that had once been owned by Sammy Davis Jr., and spent a month setting up a recording studio in the pool house in the backyard. (It was a far cry from the backwoods fantasia the album evokes, the guys really wanted to get out of New York for the winter.) Meanwhile, they lived together in the main house, drawing straws to see who would get which room—egalitarianism pervaded every aspect of the Band. After an 8-track console and other equipment Capitol Records shipped over were installed, they crammed two months of work into the remaining four weeks. Each day started at around 7 p.m. when the musicians assembled to rehearse and work on getting the sounds right. Then they would eat a good meal, after which they finally began recording at around midnight, working until dawn. At Manuel’s request, producer John Simon procured amphetamines from a neurosurgeon pal up in San Francisco to keep the band’s energy up.
A photo in the album’s liner notes shows how the Band was set up in their makeshift studio—Hudson and Manuel sit at their keyboards on the perimeter while Robertson, Danko, and Helm hold the middle. The guys stare up at the camera like it’s a stranger who has suddenly intruded on a private moment. They were children hanging out in the world’s coolest treehouse, best pals who spent weeks trading jokes and shooting pool, and then imbuing their freewheeling spirit into the ultimate “hang out” album that they happened to make in the process. That sense of togetherness, and the possibility of a counter-culture in which each person is crucial and valued as such, is what makes The Band so seductive. You want to crawl up inside of this record and bathe in the warmth of the enviable bond at its core.  From: https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/the-band-the-band/


Winds of Neptune - The Faun's Rhyme


In the summer of 2020, with the world on lockdown, and consequently drummer Mike Alonso sidelined from his otherwise intense touring schedule with renowned Celtic Punk Rockers Flogging Molly, and with guitarist Kevin Roberts and bassist/vocalist Ross Westerbur both between projects and with pretty much nothing else to do besides ride out the pandemic, the three Detroit Rock stalwarts verified their respective COVID-19-negative statuses, and then agreed to take what was a pretty bold step in those days: getting together face-to-face in Kevin’s basement for a good old-fashioned Rock and Roll jam. Ross, who was until then primarily a keyboardist (with a long resume that includes noted Stoner Rockers 500 Ft. Of Pipe, as well as alt-country road warriors The Deadstring Brothers, and just about everything in between), had recently acquired a Fender Mustang bass, and was glad to have an excuse to finally figure out how to play it. (Although for those first few jams he brought along his Wurlitzer 200 electric piano just in case.) Kevin was not long off of a stint with Tesco Vee’s notorious Hardcore Punk unit The Meatmen, but the COVID-19-era jam session cover songs that would gradually evolve into Winds Of Neptune would be closer to his deep classic Rock roots: “Fire And Water” by Free, “Hope You’re Feeling Better” by Santana, and “New Day Yesterday” by Jethro Tull.
For that first year, it wasn’t so much a “band” as it was just a way to try to stay sane. The idea of ever playing a gig was at most a dark running post-jam joke during those “unprecedented times.” It was pandemic relief, in the form of the making of music in the old Rock style that the three mutually loved. For its own sake. No band name, no gigs, no records, no merch… just jams. But nonetheless, the jams were good.
It probably wasn’t just a happy accident. The apparent effortlessness with which Winds Of Neptune operates is likely a direct result of their intermingled history. Each member has been previously involved in projects with each of the other two members, pairwise-speaking: Kevin and Ross in the Heavy Psych-Blues band Bluesong, Kevin and Mike in the old-school Thrash Metal project Mykronian, and Ross and Mike in the MC5-inspired stoner trio Aquarius Void. It was maybe inevitable that they would eventually close the loop — especially given their shared affinity for the early ‘70s canon of Heavy Rock: Sabbath, Aerosmith, Deep Purple, etc. And as the pandemic ran its course, covers would eventually lead to originals. And originals begat more originals. Gradually, organically, unspokenly, the still-nameless group began to dial in a sound. And then in July 2021, as clubs began to cautiously re-open their doors, an opportunity for an actual, real-life gig at Detroit’s Lager House presented itself. The band adopted “Winds Of Neptune” from the name of the last unreleased Bluesong instrumental track, and the rest was history.
Since then, Winds Of Neptune has continued to cultivate a sound that makes no apologies for its obvious Classic Rock influences, while still forging a distinct and powerful identity of its own. Beyond just the Heavy riffs (and make no mistake, the riffs are indeed most heavy), there is a foundation of fantastically nuanced songwriting, played by three legit musicians who know their instrument and know its place in the greater whole of the band. It’s a sound that is firmly planted in the ‘70s, evoking the likes of UFO, Budgie, and Captain Beyond, but it is equally at home alongside retro-informed contemporaries like Earthless, Kadavar, and Clutch. And in 2023, that sound would eventually catch the ear of Small Stone Recordings’ Scott Hamilton at a gig in Royal Oak, Michigan, paving the way for the band’s first full-length album.  From: https://progrockjournal.com/news-detroit-rock-trio-winds-of-neptune-unveil-the-first-single-the-fauns-rhyme-from-their-upcoming-album/

 

The Predators - Wrong Side Of Down


After what feels like an eternity The Predators have finally released their debut full length and it is called “Everybody Loves” and was released two weeks ago. Following on from “Pick Up The Pace” – their highly underrated 2006 EP – “Everybody Loves” has a wonderful sound full of eerie late night seduction and visual swoon. The mood on this record is incredible and The Predators demonstrate that they are the masters of making sophisticated guitar rock music.
You could spend decades debating over what to call the kind of music that The Predators make but I simply refer to it as mood rock n roll with a heavy to thick dollop of soundscape shivers and a psychedelic aesthetic that leans on enough pop skills and weirdness to summons a unique musical dialogue. There is no particular comparison I could make to other bands or artists because the individual influences of each member don’t corrupt the overall sound. This record is the natural rhythm of three individuals using sound to communicate complicated emotions. The kind of emotions that have evolved from a youthful angst into the dirge of the middle part of life where the world becomes cluttered with adult responsibility and the search for meaning.
If the albums title – “Everybody Loves” – strikes you as cliched then you aren’t digging deep enough into the layered and powerful sentiment of this phrase. In our current era of humanity this kind of cliched word collision offers great meaning and illustration to both the joy and struggle of our existence. No matter who or what you believe in this life we all worship the idea of love and it motivates both greatness and madness to explode into action. If love motivates positive action then great things can be accomplished and achieved but if love is used in the negative sense then it can push people to seek concepts like power and control. This complicated emotional metric for human behaviour can be applied to all areas of life and regardless of how the band meant it the power of such a title is further proof of how special this music is to the authors and is why it will connect to all who hear it.
This is the kind of music that will haunt you as it slips deep into your mind. You will be reminded of not just the human beings you’ve loved with an unrequited fever but all those you have loved and lost be it a friend, family member or romantic partner. These songs also act as a call to arms to other kinds of love like the love one has for a better future for our planet and a love for finding a way to win the battle for equal rights and to make up for the destruction of past political turmoils. It speaks of the love for your community and how now more than ever we need people who can unite us for the greater good.  From: https://heavyandwierd.wordpress.com/2021/10/29/album-review-everybody-loves-by-the-predators/

 

The Marshall Tucker Band - Take The Highway


Like Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Marshall Tucker Band is named after a real person who wasn't in the band. He was a blind piano tuner with perfect pitch who used to work at the studio where the band rehearsed. They saw his name on a keychain and decided to use it.
The band formed in Spartanburg, South Carolina, but in 1972 travelled 200 miles south to Macon, Georgia to audition for Capricorn Records, home of The Allman Brothers band. They got the deal and released their self-titled debut album the following year, which includes their signature song, "Can't You See."
Like the Allmans, this was a band with brothers, Tommy and Toy Caldwell. Both died young, Tommy in a car accident in 1980 when he was 30, Toy from a heart attack brought on by cocaine use in 1993 when he was 45.
Lead singer Doug Gray became the last original member of the group when multi-instrumentalist Jerry Eubanks retired in 1996. Gray has kept the band going with phalanx of members - he estimates that at least 500 musicians and crew members have done time in the band over the years.
Four of the original members - Toy Caldwell, Tommy Caldwell, Doug Gray, and George McCorkle - served in either the Army or Marines during the Vietnam War in the late '60s before the band formed. Gray became an advocate for veterans and often spoke about how hard it was to come home after fighting the unpopular war.
Toy Caldwell didn't use a pick, relying instead on this thumb, sometimes plucking the strings. This gave him a distinctive tone that helped define the band's sound. Toy learned the technique from his dad, a semi-pro country musician who was emulating Merle Travis.
The Marshall Tucker Band had saxophone and flute player in the lineup, Jerry Eubanks, which set them apart from other guitar-based Southern Rock bands. A good place to hear his work is the song "Can't You See," where his flute grabs the spotlight.
Toy Caldwell was their primary songwriter. After leaving the band in 1983 he formed a new group, the Toy Caldwell Band, but they released just one album and never came close the success of The Marshall Tucker Band.  From: https://www.songfacts.com/facts/the-marshall-tucker-band



Thursday, July 2, 2026

Regal Worm - Odilon Escapes From The Charcoal Oblivion, But Endeavours To Return And Rescue The Cactus Men


Jarrod Gosling has been active with electronica pop band I Monster back since 1998 when their first album was released. But recently Jarrod has gone back to the progressive music he grew up with. With his heavily keyboards based progressive outfit called Regal Worm, he has already made a slew of intriguing releases that manage to breath new life into the genre while still very much appealing to lovers of 70s progressive rock.

You call your music ”prog”, but it doesn’t try to repeat the structures of classic prog rock.

Jarrod: No. If we go back to the times when the original prog rock bands started, they were basically just playing progressive music following the Beatles ‘Sgt Pepper…’ album. These days, it seems that ”prog” has to have all these definite things like long tracks, solos, Mellotron and such. But really, that’s not what progressive music is.
When Marillion came out in the early 80s, they weren’t doing anything particularly new – they were just being the opposite to progressive in a way! I think some of the new wave and post punk bands from that same era were actually more progressive. So I try to keep that idea when I make my music – even though I am still fitting in to the genre obviously: There are Mellotrons and long tracks and lots of the ideas that are typically labeled”prog”.

Some prog seems to be very serious as well, which doesn’t apply to you?

Jarrod: I like to be playful. So in spirit, I think it is more in keeping with Frank Zappa, Caravan, Soft Machine, Robert Wyatt, Hatfield & the North, and Egg – and maybe Syd Barrett, Kevin Ayers and Gentle Giant. There was a sense of humour there and I like to retain that. I am not a virtuoso musician by any means – and I don’t think prog should be too serious, that’s why a lot of people don’t like it!

In 2013 you released the download-only EPs ‘Sausages’ and ‘Dissecting The Worm (A Taste)’, and a proper album called ‘Use and Ornament’; and now you have just released the album ‘Neither Use Nor Ornament’.

Jarrod: It is quite confusing actually.

I agree!

Jarrod: Ha ha! I am confused myself with it. The work on ‘Use and Ornament’ was actually started in 2011, and by the time it got released in December 2013 mostly all of it had already been done over a year before that. As I was trying to get a record deal with it, doing the artwork and getting it mastered, I was working on more stuff. So that was going to be for a second album, called ‘Klara Till Slutet’. It was going to be a concept album, but it just got a bit too complicated trying to write a story – although I had already written the music. Some of those tracks instead ended up on ‘Dissecting The Worm’ and some are on ‘Sausages’.
However, I wanted to bring something out this year, and that’s what became the ‘Neither Use Nor Ornament’ album. It is a bit of a stopgap release really – and it was going to be a mini album, but then it just got longer, ha ha!

The title of ”Neither Use Nor Ornament” is just negating the previous album?

Jarrod: There is a phrase that people use if a child is not very good at doing something; the parent would say: ”You are neither use nor ornament”.

You don’t know how to do it but you are not much use as a decoration either.

Jarrod: Exactly. So the first album ”Use and Ornament” was a play on that and then I thought I’d just play on that a little bit more. And because it is a different album, I ended up with the phrase itself! No one living outside northern England will probably ever get that, but it doesn’t really matter.

I would say there are a few more things on your albums that no one will ever get… the album is subtitled ‘A Small Collection Of Big Suites’.

Jarrod: Ha ha ha! Yes it is – and obviously there’s a suite/sweet pun in the album title, and the carts with the candy, so that brackets the album title. And it describes the album as well, two big suites and three shorter tracks.

The album starts with an 18 minute suite with a title that is just as long: ‘Odilon Escapes From The Charcoal Oblivion, But Endeavours To Return And Rescue The Cactus Men’

Jarrod: It is a deliberately long title just to be awkward. I just bought a book after Christmas about the turn of the century French artist Odilon Redon. Some of his surreal pictures I really like, there is one of them that is like a moon face flower, and it gave me the idea for the title. Some of the lyrics are actually a quote from one of his pictures in the book.

The second track, Animal Attic, sounds like Egg – but it is Egg playing James Last!

Jarrod: Ha ha ha! Well, I love James Last!

Then there’s a short church organ interlude called ‘Tombland Guerrilla’.

Jarrod: My wife and I went to Norwich on holiday. The old part of the city is called Tombland, and there’s a big cathedral there. I opened one of the side doors of the cathedral, and there is someone playing the organ, so I started recording on my portable PCM recorder. Then I edited it, put effects on and added Mellotron afterwards – so that was a guerrilla recording from Tombland.

Other people steal music on internet and you steal it in church!

Jarrod: Yeah, hope I’m not going to get done for copyright!!

Then we get to ‘Sovereign of the Skies’, which is quite poppy. But about three minutes in, there is a James Last sounding part again!

Jarrod: Yeah, well, I wanted to take the track further than just the first part. That song is actually from the unfinished concept album that was going to be about a flying pig creature. That’s why you’ve got the sovereign of the skies and the swine thing and flying pigs.

‘The King of Sleep’ is the grand finale. This is a track that is a bit more like traditional prog in the sense that it starts with a theme that then comes back in the end.

Jarrod: With that one, I actually wanted to go back to the original thing. I hadn’t done that on any track. It is about dreams really, weird dreams. Not drug induced, but maybe if you had some blue cheese before you go to bed – that kind of effect, just vivid dreams really!

You write, perform, produce and design it all yourself.

Jarrod: I do as much myself as I can, because I’ve got the other band I Monster which is two of us: this is my own thing and I’m the boss, and I don’t have to answer to anyone and ask if it is alright. It is up to me if I like it or not – although I can’t make other people like it!

You use quite a range of vintage equipment.

Jarrod: Yeah, I’ve got quite a lot! That’s a very prog thing to do, isn’t it! All prog fans like to read the list of instruments, and they like to know there’s a real Mellotron there.

Your Pig View studio is in your attic – are you watching the pigs from up there?

Jarrod: We live in Hillsborough: If you open the attic window, you can actually hear and almost see the football ground where the team Sheffield Wednesday play at the bottom of the hill; it is about a half a mile away. Then there’s Sheffield United on the other side of the city.  Rival fans in Sheffield call the other fans pig fans as a form of abuse. So, because I prefer United even though I live in Hillsborough, I call the studio Pig View.

From: https://popgruppen.com/2019/03/22/jarrod-gosling-the-regal-worm-interview/ 

Pet - Li'l Boots


Pet is the debut and sole studio album by the American alternative rock band Pet, released on September 3, 1996, by Igloo Records, a sublabel of Atlantic Records founded by Tori Amos. The album features a blend of hard-edged alternative rock and introspective, piano-influenced elements, largely driven by the dynamic vocals of lead singer Lisa Papineau, and was recorded at locations including Amos's home studio in County Cork, Ireland, and in Los Angeles. The band Pet formed in the mid-1990s and consisted of Papineau on vocals, guitarist Tyler Bates (later known for work with Marilyn Manson), bassist Justin Meldal-Johnsen (who has collaborated with Beck and Nine Inch Nails), and drummer Alex LoCascio.[4] Produced by the band with Tyler Bates handling most tracks and Eric Rosse on select others, alongside executive producer Tori Amos, Pet includes 13 tracks, such as "Lil' Boots" and "Calmate!," spanning a runtime of 49 minutes. Bates also contributed bass on several songs as a band member. The album's sound draws comparisons to commercial alternative acts while incorporating emotional depth akin to Tori Amos's style, reflecting its origins on her vanity label. Critically, Pet received mixed reviews, with AllMusic praising Papineau's "grit and fury" in her vocal delivery as a standout element that elevated the otherwise conventional song structures, suggesting potential for future growth that the band ultimately did not pursue. Beyond the album, Pet contributed tracks to film soundtracks, including "Lil' Boots" for The Crow: City of Angels (1996) and "Ride My Heart" for The Last Time I Committed Suicide (1997), as well as a cover of Olivia Newton-John's "Have You Never Been Mellow" on the 1996 benefit compilation Rock for Choice.[4] The group disbanded after this release, with members going on to notable careers in other projects, such as Meldal-Johnsen's production work and Bates's film scoring.  From: https://grokipedia.com/page/pet_album 

Phil Ochs - I Ain't Marching Anymore


During the early and mid-’60s, there was a relatively brief period when public protests against injustice helped raise consciousness and change minds. My dad was there, an ardent participant in sit-ins, marches, and moratoriums with other like-minded folks determined to speak out against the madness of racism and war. And when they marched, they marched to spirituals and protest songs. Though Americans have been writing and singing protest songs for almost two centuries, the ’60s were a particularly fertile era for the genre, and protest songs frequently appeared in the regular rotation of AM stations and the Billboard/Cashbox Top 10 lists. Folk music dominated the protest scene in the first half of the decade, but the rockers started catching up once they realized there was more to life than boy-girl relationships. There was some blowback—Nina Simone’s career certainly suffered after she released “Mississippi Goddam,” and some radio stations banned Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction”—but these backhanded attempts to silence non-establishment perspectives only served to heighten public interest and encourage more artists to join the movement. Protest songs remained quite popular in the USA through the end of the decade and into the early ’70s.
But where are all the protest songs now? Where are the anthems like “If I Had a Hammer,” “Where Have All the Flowers Gone,” “We Shall Overcome” and “Blowin’ in the Wind?” While American musicians have raised their voices in protest in the intervening years, there is no sense of a unified movement against The Establishment as there was in the ’60s. And when you listen to some of the most popular protest songs from the last thirty years—“Killing in the Name” by Rage Against the Machine, Green Day’s “American Idiot,” “We The People” by A Tribe Called Quest—they all fall short in one important respect: they express the rage but fail to bring the inspiration. “The world is fucked, so fuck you” seems to be a common theme. The great protest songs of the ’60s not only exposed the outrageous practices of the powerful but inspired people to get off their asses and do something about injustice instead of fast-forwarding to the next song on the playlist. Man, we could really use Phil Ochs right now.
Phil Ochs entered the scene right around the time that Bob Dylan was starting to distance himself from political themes. He established himself as an important new voice in the genre on his first official album, All the News That’s Fit to Sing, where he applied his penetrating wit and genuine empathy for the disadvantaged to interpretations of current events. Ochs also revealed himself as a remarkably talented fortune teller, releasing the first protest song about Vietnam (“Vietnam Talking Blues”) a full four months before LBJ perpetrated the fraud known as the Gulf of Tonkin Incident. The album title reflects his background in journalism, and though his work certainly displayed an editorial slant, you get the sense that even at this early stage in his development as a songwriter, his primary mission was to uncover the truth about the world we inhabit. Once upon a time, that’s what journalists were expected to do.
I Ain’t Marching Anymore was released in February 1965, featuring songs he had written in the transitional years of 1963-1964 and a few adaptations of the works of other poets and folksingers. On this second album, Ochs dispensed with the superfluous second guitar used on his debut, increasing the prominence of his lyrics and distinctive voice. While the folksinger-with-a-guitar model was pretty much standard operating procedure in those days, the contrast between his performance on All the News That’s Fit to Sing and I Ain’t Marching Anymore is striking. Phil’s voice is less tentative, his sense of urgency more obvious, and his authenticity undeniable.
Phil proves he didn’t need a second guitar with his spirited picking in the intro to “I Ain’t Marching Anymore.” The narrator is the archetypal soldier who fought in every goddamned American war from 1812 onward. Our hero has finally figured out that there are no wars to end all wars, but only old men with delusions of grandeur who peddle the outrageous notion that war is the ultimate test of one’s masculinity. Through the generation of patriotic fervor, the powers that be manipulate young men into enlisting so they can show the world what they’re made of:

It’s always the old to lead us to the war
It’s always the young to fall
Now look at all we’ve won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all?

When I lived in the States I heard a lot of bitching about the many “undeclared wars” of the post-WWII era, but undeclared wars have formed the modus operandi for the United States since its founding. War is defined as “a state of armed conflict between different nations or states or different groups within a nation or state,” whether declared or not. Most Americans prefer to hide behind the declared/undeclared distinction, but not Phil Ochs, who refused to exclude one of America’s most brutal and lengthy wars:

For I’ve killed my share of Indians
n a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men lying
I saw many more dying
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

The subsequent verses record the increasingly gloomy history of American combat: Polk’s single-minded determination to achieve manifest destiny by inventing the original Gulf of Tonkin on the Rio Grande and suckering Congress to declare war on Mexico; brothers killing brothers in the Civil War; the unimaginable slaughter known as World War I; “the mighty mushroom roar” that signaled the end of WWII and demonstrated the sick ingenuity of the human race when it comes to killing. The closing verse describes the unintended consequences of what Eisenhower described as “the military-industrial complex” and the ugly truth that short-sightedness and the profit motive both play significant roles in the decision to send young men to their deaths:

Now the labor leader’s screamin’ 
when they close the missile plants,
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore,
Call it “Peace” or call it “Treason”
Call it “Love” or call it “Reason”
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore.

I wish every person in uniform would wake up one day and say, “Fuck it. Fight your own goddamned battles, you sick bastards.” We haven’t evolved to that point, but there is no doubt that draft-age men in the Vietnam era took the song’s message to heart. When Phil performed “I Ain’t Marching Anymore” for the protesters camped outside the Democratic Convention in ’68, hundreds burned their draft cards, a moment that Phil called the highlight of his career.

From: https://altrockchick.com/2020/02/22/phil-ochs-i-aint-marching-anymore-classic-music-review/


 

Orchestra Gold - Diyanye Ko (Passion)


Can you briefly tell how the band started working?

Erich: Mariam and I met in 2006 in Bamako, Mali. I was fortunate enough to spend almost three years living in that culture. During that time, Malian musician Abdoul Doumbia was my host. Abdoul introduced me to djembe teacher Matche Traore. Then Mariam & I met at one of Matche’s ceremonies.
Fast forward to 2016, when I visited Bamako. Matche Traore and I were listening to Toubab Krewe. “Matche looked at me and said, ‘Hey, I get what these white folks are doing. They are taking our music and mixing it in with theirs. You know who would be a great singer for that kind of thing? Madama.” That planted the seed for me to start working with Mariam on songs. Mariam is the likely heroine of the story. Mariam faced many challenges in relocating to Oakland to pursue her musical journey.

Mariam: There are always difficulties when you leave your culture and go to a new one. You will find the courage, the stamina, the perseverance to pass through any difficulties if you have that love for what you're doing.

Mariam comes from Mali, from the Fulani people. The songs that come from that part of the world are usually interpreted, let's call it that, in an Afro-pop manner like what Salif Kieta does. How did you decide on this fusion of African music with psychedelic rock?

Mariam: It's sort of this organic thing that happens when our worlds collide. It’s the product of this ever-evolving musical conversation between Mariam and myself. That’s what happens when two people spend a lot of time in each other's world and those two worlds are radically different.

Mariam, how do your relatives comment on the music performed by Orchestra Gold?

Mariam: It makes them happy. They are very encouraging.

There were many great musicians in Africa during the 20th century. Did any of them influence you?

Erich: Fela Kuti. Songhoy Blues is a really great young band from Mali. They push on boundaries, the sound is gritty, driving, and has a lot of rock inside of it. Lobi Traore - amazing Malian guitar player/songwriter. He plays music from the Segou region of Mali.

Mariam: Baaba Maal from Senegal, Salif Keita, Ali Farka Toure. I like their melodies.

Do you use the lyrics of some old, traditional songs in your work or is it your own material?

Mariam: There are a few old folkloric songs, but most of them are my own original creations.

I've been following your work since the first EPs ("O", I") and I think that "Medicine" is definitely your best album in your career. Can you tell us something about the creation of this album? How long did it take, where did you record, and do you have any interesting anecdotes from recordings?

Erich: Thanks so much for your kind words. We took the stylistic preferences of the first two albums as inspiration for "Medicine". Then we tried to take it further. Adding a wider palette of sonic frequency - more bass, more mid ranges. The engineer, Jacob Winik was amazing to work with. Jacob really used a lot of different tools (compressors and distressors) to gain stage the signals, so everything sounded crunchy, vibey, and loud. In the studio, we were recording for 2 days. The band was really well rehearsed and ready to go. There were 7 musicians involved in the recording. We recorded at Tiny Telephone in Oakland. TT is known for being good at working from tape to digital.

A lot of the heavy lifting for this album was born out of the pandemic. The pandemic made it clear that we are living in a state of sickness a lot of times in this world. Mental, spiritual, and physical. A source of strength came from knowing that there are lots of ways to heal ourselves. For us, music has been one of the primary sources of healing. With the release of Medicine, we hope to spread light and healing to the community through the universal gift of music.

Since the beginning of its work, Orchestra Gold has not had a publisher, but you do everything in a DIY manner. How difficult is it to work in such a way? Are there any publisher offers for future releases? How much is it necessary to have a publisher in this day and age, considering all the digital platforms available to everyone? Do you think that it is easier for bands from bigger publishing houses to reach the media space?

Erich: Yeah, of course. The question is, are they turning back more revenue? With the label behind you, you can reach a larger audience, but the label takes up a percentage of everything.
We self-released "Medicine", and it made it to the #1 spot on Seattle’s KEXP Global Charts. It was the only self-released title on the list. It's harder to do it our own way. Vinyl sales have been helpful. It's challenging to find sources of revenue. I’m not sure where a label comes in for everyone. I’m not sure if people make more money through a label or on their own.

What's the scene like for the music you play in Oakland and California in general? What kind of clubs do you play in?

Erich: California has a pretty strong music scene. Some remarkable bands have come out of California that you may know, such as The Doors, Santana, and Red Hot Chili Peppers. In general, despite the high cost of living, I think the climate of California is very conducive to creativity. If you look at our list of shows for this year, you’ll find us performing at clubs large and small, museums, and festivals. It’s really a mix that keeps us going. My personal favorites are small to medium size clubs because I like the intimacy. But festivals are good because they introduce tons of new people to your music.

In recent years, bands have appeared around the world that draw inspiration from traditional music that comes from some other parts of the world, not from their own country. How do you explain that? What is it about the elements of traditional music that attracts musicians?

Erich: I think it's the depth that we sense in traditional music. I was listening to a playlist on Spotify, and it was a Psychedelic Rock playlist. Though I noticed probably more than half the songs are heavily influenced by non-western genres of music. So, I think there’s also a collective opportunity to hear from voices that historically haven’t dominated the mainstream narrative as much. 

From: https://izvorista.substack.com/p/interview-orchestra-gold