Thursday, April 27, 2023

Swans - You Know Nothing


 #Swans #Michael Gira #Jarboe #experimental rock #post-rock #noise rock #industrial #no-wave #neofolk #industrial rock #gothic rock #dark folk #apocalyptic folk

In a half-decade span beginning in the mid '80s, Swans swiftly transformed from bone-crushing no wave brutalists to God-fearing gothic rockers, and then to featherweight neo-folkies. White Light from the Mouth of Infinity and Love of Life, originally released in 1991 and 1992, respectively, marked the end of that metamorphosis, as the band settled into a sound at once songful and vast, luminous as a glass menagerie and forceful as a falling anvil. The two albums have long been treated as minor works in Swans' discography: out of print for years, they were cherry-picked (alongside selections from 1989's major-label fiasco The Burning World and the Gira/Jarboe side project the World of Skin) for 1999's inauspiciously titled Various Failures 1988-1992. "I'm ambivalent about much of it, but then what do I know?" Gira has written of the music on that anthology. "Some of it is genuinely good I think. Anyway, I was learning how to write a song as I went."
It's true that the period marked a shift from pummeling mantras to something more "musical," with singing instead of shouting and cascading chords instead of just drop-tuned gut-punches. That said, even here, Gira's concept of "songwriting" remains idiosyncratic: there's little in the way of verse/chorus structures, mainly just mantra-like incantations and chords wreathed around gleaming pedal tones surrounded by wide-open expanse. Drummers Anton Fier (White Light) and Vincent Signorelli and Ted Parson (Love of Life) lay into their snares with military gusto, driving the music forward in surging tattoos, and their nonstop rattle contributes to a sensation of overwhelming excess. Close your eyes, and you can practically see the sounds exploding like fireworks against the darkness of your lids.
The textures and tone colors are well suited to Gira's favorite themes, like love, death, and the sublime. Where early Swans lyrics were notable largely for their grueling power dynamics and limitless abjection—see "Raping a Slave", "Filth", "Cop", etc.—here Gira explores a more nuanced perspective. It's hardly all kittens and rainbows; both albums are littered with ugliness, from the dirge-like "Better Than You" ("So glad I'm better than you," he sings, in the world's most dead-eyed Dear John letter) to the claustrophobic "Amnesia", where he tells us "sex is a void filled with plastic" and "everything human's necessarily wrong." Gira has rarely wallowed as beautifully as he does on "Failure", one of the great nadirs—in the best way possible—of the band's catalog. Over bluesy acoustic guitar and frigid digital synthesizers, his preacher's drawl drips like blood from a stone; it would be hard to imagine a voice with more gravitas. But Gira has never met a dichotomy he could resist—he eats love and hate, sprinkled with a bit of good and evil, for breakfast—and here we can see the pendulum beginning to tip from darkness back to daylight.  From: https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/21259-white-light-from-the-mouth-of-infinity-love-of-life/


Comus - Song to Comus


 #Comus #acid folk #freak folk #folk rock #progressive folk #British folk rock #psychedelic folk #1970s

A guitar is hit hard and strummed with abandon, another is plucked and joined by a flute, the demented voice of Roger Wootton breaks in to sing: “Bright the sunlight summer day, Comus wakes he starts to play. Virgin fair smiles so sweet, Comus’ heart begins to beat’. Each of the ending words are echoed out in repeat, “play, play, play, play.” The song continues on to tell a form of the Comus story, based on John Milton’s masque of the same name, in which he ensnares a lady in a forest. “Comus glare, Comus bare, Comus rape”.
In 1630 a heinous charge of sodomy and rape was brought upon the head of the Earl of Castlehaven, who was tried and convicted of sodomy with his page, and accused of provoking and assisting another to rape his wife – part of a twisted plan to produce an alternate heir. Described by the judge as an ‘unnatural crime’, he was found guilty and beheaded three weeks later on Tower Hill. Four years after this event, his brother-in-law John Egerton, the 1st Earl of Bridewater, arrived at Ludlow castle to take up his new appointment as Lord President of Wales. To celebrate the occasion, the poet John Milton wrote a masque, named ‘Comus’. It is said that the masque was performed to cleanse the family’s past and to help forget the crimes of the Earl of Castlehaven.
John Milton (born in 1608), worked as a civil servant under Oliver Cromwell, and was a renowned poet and scholar, best known for his epic poem ‘Paradise Lost’, that ruminates on the temptation of Adam and Eve by the fallen angel Satan. His masque ‘Comus’ tells the story of two brothers and a sister who find themselves lost in a forest. When the sister, known as the Lady, stops to rest, her brothers search on for food. Comus then appears to her, a kind of god of chaos based on the Greek god of the same name, disguised as a villager. He tricks and captures her, and takes her to his pleasure palace, putting her on a bewitched chair where he uses a necromancers wand and entices her to drink from his magical cup. She refuses in the name of chastity and temperance. Eventually she is rescued by her brothers with help from The Attendant Spirit, a kind of angel. Who manage to chase Comus away, but they can’t free their sister from the chairs spell. The Spirit gives them aid by calling the water nymph Sabrina with a song, who subsequently frees the Lady. The three siblings return home to be reunited with their parents in jubilation. ‘Song to Comus’ uses the middle part of the poem, where the demon finds the Lady in the forest, as its basis. Roger Wootton sings wildly with glee as he enacts Comus, ‘hands of steel, crack you open and your red flesh peel.’ The band ramp up the darkness with theatre, as they do with on most of the songs on their unique debut ‘First Utterance’.
Comus formed tentatively in 1967 with the meeting of guitarists Roger Wootton and Glenn Goring at Ravensbourne college. During that period they started to play folk clubs together and later met David Bowie at the Arts Lab in Beckenham, who then asked them to perform regularly at his curated evenings. They met their manager Chris Youle at the college, as well as a violinist, Colin Pearson, who was studying Milton at the time and suggested the band name. The bass player Andy Hellaby was found at the Arts Lab, and singer Bobbie Watson was invited to join after the rest of the band heard her harmonizing at a local house. Flautist Rob Young was found through an advert.
In 1970 they toured and played across the country like any other working band. During that year, Canadian director Lindsay Shonteff asked them to contribute to her film ‘Permissive’, a story of groupies in London. Shonteff had been impressed by a gig at which Roger cut his hand and continued to play on, bleeding on to his guitar during the song ‘Drip Drip’. Various members of Comus went on to score another three films for Shonteff, who’s ‘Permissive’ is part of the BFI flipside collection. In June of the same year, the band performed at the Purcell Rooms in London’s Royal Festival Hall supporting David Bowie. Their mesmerizing and frenetic act brought them much attention and led them to ink a contract with label Pye/Dawn. The following year they released ‘First Utterance’, with its cover depicting Comus in all his evil glory, drawn by Roger himself. Unfortunately the album had no commercial success and they disbanded in ’72. On ‘Song to Comus’ the intensity of the rest of the album is continued. ‘First Utterance’ really is a one of a kind – bizarre compelling vocals by Roger, lush foil-vocals from Bobbie, urgent guitars, apocalyptic violin playing, head nodding percussion and a burrowing flute.  From: https://www.spookyisles.com/john-miltons-tale-of-rape-and-necromancy/

Monday, April 17, 2023

Gentle Giant - Live Long Beach, CA 1975

Part 1

 
Part 2 

 #Gentle Giant #Shulman brothers #progressive rock #British prog #eclectic prog #classic prog #hard rock #experimental rock #jazz rock #neoclassical #medieval  #1970s #music video
 
To be honest, Gentle Giant wasn’t a band I had given much thought to in recent years when I received a press release, announcing that seven albums they had made were going to be available online. All at once though, it came back to me in a flash — I had seen Gentle Giant open for Yes. This was in 1976, and I was heavily into progressive rock. Unfortunately, perhaps because I was young and naive, I didn’t realize Gentle Giant were capable of taking it much further than most of their more popular peers I followed. Even listening now, the music of Gentle Giant seems beyond reproach — the vocal harmonies, the layers of strings, woodwinds and other embellishments added to guitars, bass, drums and keys — all played and executed at an incredibly high and sophisticated level. Maybe it just took a few years for me to catch up.
Gentle Giant began in 1970 and ended in 1980. During their 10 years, they issued 12 albums, but the seven Capitol/Chrysalis releases — In A Glass House (1973), The Power & The Glory (1974), Freehand (1975), Interview (1976), Playing The Fool: The Official Live (1977), The Missing Piece (1977) and Giant For A Day (1978) — are considered by many to be the best of the batch. Remastered and available digitally, plans are set for the seven to come out on CD in 2010. There are also box sets, DVDs and other reissues in the works. But that’s as far as it goes. Unlike other bands, Gentle Giant will not reunite to promote these reissues. That was made clear to me during my chat with two of the group’s former founding members — singer Derek Shulman and his bass-playing, multi-instrumentalist brother Ray.
During the course of the following conversation, I pressed the Shulmans on why Gentle Giant couldn’t have gone on like so many of their contemporaries. But they remain steadfast and adamant in preserving the group’s legacy as it is. That and the fact that they — specifically Derek and Ray Shulman — have gone on to do other miraculous things in the music world. Derek is an extremely successful record executive, having worked A & R for a few years, signing groups like Bon Jovi and Dream Theater, then becoming president of both Atco and Roadrunner Records. Today, he oversees his own label, DRT Entertainment. Ray is a prolific music producer, and has worked with numerous acts including the Sugarcubes, Björk’s first group. With Derek in New York, Ray somewhere in England, and me in California, I felt like I was on a rollercoaster cruising around the world. And through it all, though they are no longer a working band, you could tell that Gentle Giant was and still is an important part of their lives.
It’s great to have you two on the line.
Derek: Thank you. Where are you calling from?
I’m in Long Beach, California. I think you played a gig here a while back.
Derek: We did?
Yes. In my research, I found out that you played at the Long Beach Terrace Theater, although I think it was actually the Long Beach Auditorium back then.
Derek: It wasn’t Don Kirshner, was it?
Ray: Yeah, I think it was. Don Kirschner’s Rock Concert.
Kirshner used to film his show right down the street from me. It was the Beach Auditorium back then, but they tore it down and built the Long Beach Terrace Theater in its place
Ray: That’s exactly right.
I attended some of those Kirshner shows back in 74 and 75, but I didn’t see you there.
Ray: Oh wow.
I did see you in 1976.
Derek: Where did you see us play?
I saw you with Yes and Peter Frampton at Anaheim Stadium.
Derek: That was a gigantic place. I do remember that one.
Ray: I don’t think we enjoyed that very much.
Derek: It was miserable actually (laughs). I was just speaking with Ray, and this is kind of the first interview we’ve done talking about the digital releases. I called Ray just two minutes ago, and asked, “What are you going to say?” And he said the same thing to me: “I don’t know, what are you going to say?” We have no clue as to what we’re supposed to say or do.
That’s OK, we’ll just play it by ear. With that in mind, let’s get into these digital reissues of seven Gentle Giant titles. Why digital and why now?
Ray: Well, basically, we now own the catalog. They were originally on Capitol.
Derek: These releases are on EMI. They’ve been very proactive, certainly on the digital side, which has become obviously quite important for people to hear music. When they get their iPods and PDAs, we figured we’d give fans access to the music, especially to those who haven’t bought the old releases, the LPs and ultimately CDs; but you know the CDs have only been available on a very limited basis.
Just for the record, we are remastering from the original tapes next week, and putting out the albums — which are coming out digitally — early next year, in January or February. And then some more music that Ray and Kerry (Minnear, the band’s keyboardist) actually put together that I don’t even remember we did — bits and pieces that fans of the band will be intrigued to hear when we were getting together. These are some of the songs that didn’t appear on the albums.
So, these recordings were not remastered for the 35th Anniversary series released in 2005?
Ray: Those were taken from the best tapes available at the time. A lot of these tapes, because they get passed around, you never know where the originals — you know, the actual tape we recorded onto in the studio — were located. Even Capitol and over here, Chrysalis — they didn’t know where they were. Eventually, we found the quarter-inches and that’s what we’re going to work from next week.
Will these digital remasters be available through outlets like Amazon and iTunes?
Ray: Everywhere.
Will these also be available through your own dedicated web site?
Ray: We thought about that, but I don’t think we’re going to do it on our own, are we?
Derek: No, no. We’re going to leave it as is.
One last technical question: Are these going to be distributed as MP3s or as high-end lossless files like FLACs and SHNs?
Ray: MP3s. We may make them lossless once we’ve remastered them.
Any plans to reissue other Gentle Giant titles?
Derek: The first two albums were signed to what was Phonogram at the time, which turned around multiple times and became Universal and it was a worldwide deal. I’m working on accessing the release of those next year. For Three Friends and Octopus (the third and fourth albums), I think we have a very good opportunity to do what we are going to do with these albums early next year also. I think that’s certainly in the cards. I’m working on that here in New York. Again, the fans of the group and the people who haven’t heard it will hear it mastered better with the original quarter-inch tapes. Yes, there is a plan, but unfortunately we can’t institute it yet because of ownership and licensing situations. The catalog that reverted back was only the Capitol years, which are the seven albums. I think seven albums, right Ray?
Ray: Yeah. If you look at our original Phonogram contract, it’s almost a joke now…
Derek: So was the Beatles’ I think.
Ray: Yeah, pretty much like that.
Derek: It was two percent — two percent royalties. It went up afterwards with Ray and our attorney in England. The Beatles had the same deal.
Ray: It was equivalent to a producer royalty these days.
Derek: That’s right.
When you listen back on these recordings, what sort of memories do they conjure? Do you remember anything particular about the sessions? Writing the songs? Putting the concepts together? Figuring out which instruments to put where?
Ray: One of the outlets asked us each to write a like a two-word sentence about each song. I haven’t heard these since we recorded them and it feels strange. It really takes you back. And you kind of remember the sessions.
Derek: I remember In A Glass House, the whole album actually. The writing process usually, on the musical side, was Kerry and Ray for the most part. They’d come up with a song that was either mostly structured or completely structured. And it was brought to the band, to chip in something and the lyrics.
Ray: You were responsible for the lyrics.
Derek: Yeah, I was responsible for the lyrics. I do remember some of the sessions for particular albums and some of the songs. Yes, you do remember how they were done — I’ll let Ray speak about that. I remember In A Glass House being an extremely tough record to make because our older brother Phil had left the band. We became a five-piece from a six-piece. Although we regrouped and toured, and it seemed that we didn’t lose any momentum — in fact, we gained a little momentum — it was still kind of shocking for personal reasons. It was an extremely tense record to make. In that respect, I couldn’t actually listen to it for quite a few years, even though we toured on it. I couldn’t reflect back because I felt the shock of my brother leaving, and we had to reassemble our whole attitude about what Gentle Giant was kind of resounded to me, so I do remember that record being a tough record. The other one, I think for me also, was the one we did in Holland. Ray, wasn’t it The Missing Piece?
Ray: Yeah, The Missing Piece.
Derek: We went to…was it Relight Studios in Holland?
Ray: Yeah, it was in Holland.
Derek: I hated it. It was a place where you shut yourself away.
Ray: I have a few memories of that one. You had to walk across this kind of pig farm to get there. I couldn’t even listen to that album. It probably influenced what we played.
Derek: You’re right. It was in the middle of a farmland in flat Holland.
Ray: I can’t figure out why we went there.
Derek: I’ll tell you why. I think we heard Genesis had gone in there and they were getting bigger than we were, so we figured that must be the reason (laughs).
Unlike Genesis, of course, you guys were multi-instrumentalists, so when you were putting these records together, how did you figure who was gonna do what? What’s gonna go where? It seems pretty complex.
Ray: The basic arrangements were pretty complex. The earlier ones were much more of a collaboration; In fact, there’s a few songs, having just listened to it, on In A Glass House where I can’t tell who wrote what because it’s so mixed up. They’re either my compositions or Kerry’s, who wrote the bulk of it. We kind of lost that toward the end where we wrote and arranged entire songs by ourselves. But early on, we were definitely more collaborative in terms of the whole structure of the songs. In the studio, everything was worked out. We never took that long — I think our longest record was about five weeks.
Derek: Yeah, that was the longest by far.
Ray: We’d work it all out before we went into the studio, you know, with specific arrangements. Often, overdubbing was kind of improvised and we’d get together and Kerry would play something and we’d say, “Yeah that’s good. Develop that.” Other times, he’d (Kerry) actually write out manuscript parts, certainly for the vocals. Then he’d say, “Here you are. Sing this bit.” And we’d go and rehearse it.
Derek: I think that one thing we did as a group was push each other to be better than what you even believed you could be. The things you wouldn’t ordinarily think about because it was OK as it is. We’d push ourselves to be better for each other, as opposed to being better for an album. I think that went across the board. I just saw a quote from Ian Anderson — you saw that Ray, right? — where he said that we are his favorite group, but he said he never saw anyone argue so much.
I saw that quote in Prog magazine.
Ray: Ian was quite the task master really. And he wouldn’t let sloppy or small mistakes get by. So he picked up on it after the show with us. Other people didn’t quite understand because it seemed we were in serious arguments, but we got over it in a couple of seconds.
Derek: We’d be backstage after the show. And even though the crowd was out cheering for another encore, we’d be — it probably was me — saying,”You played a bum note in song number three.” They’d say,”What are you talking about?” And I’d say, “It was B flat instead of a C,” or whatever.
You were perfectionists.
Derek: We tried to push ourselves across the board. That’s my memory of how the band played live. When you’re talking multi-instrumental stuff, by the way, we tried all sorts of things in the studio because it was available to us. The stage versions of the songs were never the same as the album versions. We treated the albums totally different to our live and stage shows. They were always rearranged into something visual or acoustically different for the best effect possible.
Listening to the music — and Ray, you touched on this — it seems so well constructed. Was there any improvisation taking place in the studio, as well as on stage?
Ray: More on stage probably. I mean, you develop a part from improvisation, that’s the major part of composition anyway. Like I said, sometimes Kerry would sometimes write it out on manuscript paper. Otherwise, it was usually an acoustic piano that would play and you’d take that recording and a germ of an idea would come from that. And then you develop that. It wasn’t improvised or loose in a free-form way: it was very structured.
Derek: Ray’s assessment is right. There was room for improvisation to a degree on stage, but on record, it was improvised to a point with solos.
Ray: Yeah, solos with something like the xylophone, where you just go out and do it.
Derek: Yeah, go in and do it and see if it works. And if it didn’t, we’d all jump on whoever did it and say it didn’t work.
Ray: But the ensemble playing was very much structured.
Gentle Giant often gets lumped in with other British progressive rock bands like King Crimson, Yes and Genesis, but the music is more sophisticated, on par with what people like Frank Zappa were doing.
Ray: I love to hear that.
Derek: Me too. No influences, but certainly one of my loves. “Peaches En Regalia” and the Hot Rats album. We actually played with him.
I was wondering about that. How did those shows go?
Derek: They were amazing. I think we had similar influences.
Ray: We had a similar kind of thing. It was probably similar in that Frank Zappa never took himself too seriously, but he was a very serious musician. We were the same way. We never took ourselves too seriously.
Derek: I think pomposity was something that set us apart from some of the other bands you were talking about. We were a rock band playing interesting music, but we weren’t sitting there with bow ties and tails. And Zappa was similar. He played this amazing music, but he didn’t consider himself — although he was — an incredible musician and composer. The backgrounds of us individually were similar. We had all sorts of influences. Kerry was classically trained. And as Ray said, he has a degree in composition.
Ray: Our dad was a jazz trumpet player. When we were growing up, be-bop was still around. Our dad and other musicians would have jam sessions at the house.
Derek: That’s what we heard: Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie got played instead of the pops of the day.
So it wasn’t Elvis. It was jazz.
Derek: That’s right. Ray, of course, was a classically trained violinist. In fact, he was being trained to join the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain, but he decided — we decided actually — to use his violin as a guitar in the first group we ever had. I think I was probably an influence there, so I’m sorry Ray. What can I tell you? An apology 40 years later (laughs).
Better late than never, I guess. Looking over the seven reissues — you have In A Glass House, The Power & The Glory and Interview, which are conceptual, whereas Freehand, The Missing Piece and Giant For A Day were a little more straightforward and accessible. And, of course, Playing The Fool is the live album with a little bit of both. Did you ever struggle to find a happy medium?
Ray: I think so, certainly in the later years. There was definitely an effort to try to be more commercial, which, when I listen back now, I find it quite bizarre because our attempts at commerciality made it less commercial.
I was listening to Freehand and I remember hearing “Just The Same” when I saw you at Anaheim Stadium. That was a very accessible song that could have been a hit. And I believe that album was your most successful in the States, right?
Derek: Yeah, it did very well. We were kind of a popular group actually in certain places, but then we saw radio and the acceptance of hit singles when FM radio became AOR. Bands who would sometimes tour with us as back-up bands became bigger because of a big hit. I think there was an element of us chasing a hit. And as Ray said, in retrospect, to look back at it, it was a dumb thing to do, but we did it. There were elements of envy, I will say that.
Ray: We saw Genesis and Yes cross over to the mass audience, and there were certain territories where we did play stadiums, like in Canada and parts of Europe. But we didn’t have a mass audience everywhere. There was also — certainly in the latter part of the 70s — a big cultural shift in this country, in Britain, of punk music. It was a bit more cultural because of what was going on in Britain. I think we made an album where there were three days we used a generator because there was no electricity. And you could see in just that, the kind of complicated music and lyrical themes — they weren’t relevant any more in this country. Obviously things were changing, so you had to kind of change yourself. Or you give up (laughs).
Derek, I read in a recent interview where you said you could understand how and why Gentle Giant remained sort of a cult band, and bands like Genesis became huge. Does this mean you don’t think the group could have gone any further in the 80s with a more streamlined sound like Genesis and Yes? Or was Gentle Giant simply a band of its time?
Derek: I think we tried, believe it or not. It was a hopeless attempt (laughs). Not hopeless. I think we tried, but we realized that they had a sound. Maybe the sort of one-note bass, but we didn’t do that. Our music was much more complicated and complex. To get to a simple melody and have a hit song, if you like, wasn’t part of our repertoire. Although we tried to do it on a couple of albums, it just didn’t catch fire. We started losing elements of what the fans liked about the group because we were reaching a bit. On the other hand, we were struggling to keep up with ourselves and the times. It was difficult.
I will say in retrospect, an album that everyone discounts, including myself, but I just listened to it and it’s not part of the package was an album called Civilian. It was the last record and a horrible record to make. However, I think on that record in particular, we came closest to what Genesis and Yes were doing. Only it was too late by then. And for lots of reasons — personally, professionally, musically — we’d all moved on. It was time to shut down.
Ray: In terms of our time, I think our records are more timeless. Certainly the first six, maybe seven, probably up to Freehand actually. I think they hold together pretty well.
Derek: Even Interview to a degree. That was kind of the leeway to where we were gonna go. That was where the switch in the road came. Then we did the live album after Interview. And the live album was kind of us playing, what we had done for five years. It was a retrospective of the live show. Some of the music on the last couple of records, there are some good parts. Some of it is not listenable. However, I’ll say the same thing about the first couple of albums — which are not part of this. We weren’t defined as a group and entity then. We were new. We weren’t integrated as a musical entity.
Derek, as a record executive, I know you signed Dream Theater and have since developed a lot of progressive metal bands. Have any of these younger musicians you’ve encountered acknowledged Gentle Giant as an influence?
Derek: Yeah, I’m surprised and amazed and gratified. These bands — I think they’re quite good. It’s a different era and a different kind of music. A lot of musicians and a lot of people have no clue. They would even be interested in the group or have any kind of idea that I was even in a group because both myself and Ray have moved on from being stage musicians to doing different things. Some don’t have any clue that there ever was a group called Gentle Giant.
I’m surprised because now I sit in an environment which is almost the enemy, as it were, from being a musician. And the good thing about that for me — and probably for Ray as well — it puts me in a good situation on a personal level because I can empathize with the musician who is on the road and is not making that much money. I understand all the processes of what it is to be in a band and on the road and making music for a living.
The influences — it’s gratifying. There’s lots of bands, that when they hear I was in a group, it makes it’s easier for me to speak to them about progressing their career because I’ve learned, obviously, being on this side of the fence, how this side of the fence works. It’s different today than it was 10 years ago. It gives me a good standing, in that respect.
How about you Ray? You worked with Björk when you produced the first Sugarcubes album. Did she draw inspiration from Gentle Giant?
Ray: That was one of the things we never really talked about it. The way I got into production was — and, in fact, throughout the early 80s, I actually got into TV adverts, that was my main kind of living — I was working in the studio with a guy there called Derek Birkett. He had his own label and he found this band from Iceland called the Sugarcubes and said, “What can you do? Can you record them?” And I said, “Yeah, I’ll record them.” So basically, with a few sessions here and a few sessions there, we put together that album. I became kind of the de facto, unpaid house producer for One Little Indian Records. We made lots of records there with anyone who wanted to put a record out. That was how I got into production and that was the most fun time I ever had producing records. It was for nothing, but then it became more serious after that because we started selling a lot more records. Gentle Giant never came up…
You listen to some of the stuff Björk is doing now, and you have to wonder.
Ray: Well, I played on that record as well.
You have a song on In A Glass House called “A Reunion,” yet Gentle Giant is one of the few bands left that hasn’t reunited. You guys are still on good speaking terms, aren’t you?
Ray: We’re very much on speaking terms. I think from Derek’s and my point of view is that we reserve the right not to do this. It has no interest. What are we supposed to play? We’re not going to write new music for the band. Therefore, we’d be left to play the music we left how long ago now, almost 30 years ago?
Derek: Yes, almost 30 years since the last gig.
Ray: We were a progressive band — a progressive band in the most positive way, in the way the term is used. I equate it with someone like Miles Davis. Miles Davis made Kind Of Blue — I still play the record because I love it — but he never did. He always moved on. He always played something different. He didn’t care what the audience thought. He played pop tunes toward the end, turned his back on the audience. That’s progressive music to me, therefore I can’t see what we’d do if we got back together. That’s my view and Derek’s point of view. And also, what would it be? Nostalgiafest, I guess…
Derek: From what Ray said — you move on in your life, in your career, in your musical tastes, in whatever you want to do and whatever you want to aspire to. To go back and be your own tribute band, for me, would be kind of embarrassing. I’ve seen a couple of these reunions. When we said that’s it — that was it. It didn’t trickle to a stop — it stopped.
Ray: It’s not like we don’t see each other. I talk to Kerry all the time and we have these records out, so we’re doing the business side of it now together, the packaging and all the rest of it. There certainly is no acrimony there at all.
Derek: We moved on musically and professionally. To leave it — and this is me, it may not be Ray — when history is written, that chapter is closed. For me to revisit that, for me personally…I mean, I can reread it but I already read that part, so why go back and reread it. I understand from the fans’ point of view that they want to reread it, but we’ve all moved on chronologically, personally and musically. It couldn’t be the same for us unless, and the truth is, we just wanted to go out there “for money.” And I won’t do that. And I don’t think Ray will either.
Not even a one-off for a big charitable one-time event like Live 8? Or would you just as soon not go there?
Ray: I don’t want to go there. I wouldn’t think so, but whatever.
Derek: I have to agree with Ray.
How about the three Shulman brothers — you and your older brother Phil. Do you ever get together and have a friendly jam?
Ray: We haven’t actually, because often we have been separated by geography more than anything else. But there’s no reason not to.
Derek: Yeah, in a hotel, that’s something that may well happen. But we wouldn’t try rewriting In A Glass House or Freehand.
From: https://vintagerock.com/the-gentle-giant-interview/
 
 

Wucan - King Korea


 #Wucan #hard rock #folk rock #psychedelic rock #doom metal #stoner rock #progressive metal #retro-1970s #German #music video

Wucan - Retro Rock with Romanticism and Women’s Power

eclipsed is a music magazine based in Aschaffenburg and has been on the German market since 2000. It is aimed at friends of sophisticated rock music who want to go on a new acoustic voyage of discovery month after month.

eclipsed: Tell me the origin of the band.

Francis Tobolsky: Well, I started the band with an ad when I moved to Dresden four years ago to study. In my old hometown Chemnitz I didn't see the chance to find like-minded people. My claim was to make classic blues rock by Free and Rory Gallagher. First of all our drummer Axel Pätzold reported himself on the ad and peu à peu they all came together. About Tim George on guitar and finally Patrick Dröge on bass.

eclipsed: And how did you find your way to this special sound, a mix of classic hard & blues rock with Tull's flute, Krautrock influences and modern retro rock à la Blues Pills?

Tobolsky: Yeah, then the songwriting started. Somehow it came all by itself that we drove this, I say, old-school sound. I think that this is also connected with the fact that none of us really listens to new, current music. Many productions are simply too polished to a high gloss for us, especially in the metal area, of course also in pop/rock. Somehow we didn't like it.

eclipsed: Where'd you learn to play the flute so well? It really reminds you of Ian Anderson.

Tobolsky: (laughs) Funny you should say that. Just a few days ago a metal music magazine said that this was the biggest insult to the majesty I would do on the flute. Jethro Tull wasn't an influence at all, but as a thirteen year old I enjoyed two years of classical flute lessons. Later I concentrated more on the guitar. But then I thought to myself that I could also bring the flute into the band.

eclipsed: Where does your band name come from?

Tobolsky: We were really desperate to find a band name. And Tim sent me an unspectacular music link. This was the music video of the song "Wucan" by psychedelic rocker Black Mountain, which in Chinese means "lunch" in addition to the name for a Chinese city (laughs). We decided that together as a band.

eclipsed: How did you approach your first album?

Tobolsky: So on our first release, an EP, we weren't really happy with the sound. This time we wanted to make it clear from the outset that this was not supposed to sound so modern, but ... yes, "mustier". Also adapted to our music style. We also recorded live and took a little more time to experiment, for example with the Moog synthesizer and the theremin I play.

eclipsed: So how did the long track "Wandersmann" come about, which is out of the ordinary in German? This reminds me of romantic poetry as it used to be with "Leiermann" from Franz Schubert's "Winterreise".

Tobolsky: You, exactly. I used to want to study literature. I was always such a cultural epoch freak, and my absolute favorite time was romanticism and especially the so-called black romanticism. Maybe that had some influence, too.

eclipsed: "Sow The Wind sounds a lot like early seventies. Would you have wanted to live back then?

Tobolsky: (laughs) That's a difficult thing. Somehow you're used to all the comforts of the 21st century. At least then I would have experienced this spirit of the time first hand. So I can only have this told to me by people like my grandparents, who already lived then, or people who were active in student movements.

eclipsed: Young people nowadays tend to hear the charts, hip hop and electro more often. How do you get your obviously so rich musical knowledge about older music at all? Where does this love come from?

Tobolsky: Well, I've asked myself that question many times before. I've been interested in music since I was a kid. I was often with my grandparents, and here in Saxony they had an oldie radio station on the air, from the sixties to the eighties. I must have preferred a certain sound and song structure. When I finally had my own internet access when I was fourteen or fifteen (laughs), I could surf around and was constantly looking for music. You can always get links to other bands and songs on YouTube, which you then like, and you can keep on hanging around like that.

eclipsed: It's nice that the Internet also provides such positive things. What are your musical role models?

Tobolsky: Besides Blues Rock there are many old Krautrock bands like Novalis, Hoelderlin and Birth Control, but also East German bands like Renft and Karat.

eclipsed: How do you see the current retro-rock scene with bands like Siena Root, in whose opening program you will play in the coming months, or especially the Blues Pills, with which you will probably be compared now, simply because there is such an energetic front woman on stage.

Tobolsky: Hm, difficult question ... I almost think that some people in the press are already annoyed about it. But every retro rock band sounds different to me anyway. In Metal, for example, many of the bands sound much more similar. No, it's full of musical diversity, it can be more like blues rock or heavy metal or it can be psychedelic. Yes, or even garage rock of the late sixties, there are so many different ways of playing that you can't even say, so this retro rock, that annoys me. This all sounds so fresh and different. I just think that certain bands are promoted in a very strong way and that can get on people's nerves. I can imagine that, especially what comes from the big labels.

From: https://www.eclipsed.de/en/current-issue/underground/wucan-retro-rock-romanticism-and-womens-power

Deerhoof - Scarcity Is Manufactured


 #Deerhoof #indie rock #experimental rock #noise rock #art rock #noise punk #animated music video

At the beginning of 'Can’t Get You Out of My Head', the latest documentary by historian and filmmaker Adam Curtis, is a quote by anarchist activist David Graeber: “The ultimate hidden truth of the world is that it is something we make and could just as easily make differently.” It sets the tone for a sprawling thesis about how we’ve arrived at our current state of global affairs, reminding the viewer that there’s always another path. The film shares the same message at the heart of 'Actually, You Can', the 18th studio album by San Francisco’s Deerhoof. It’s a record of re-imagination, revolution, and reconstruction in the face of a seemingly inevitable status quo.
However, gleaning a clear message from Deerhoof’s music is like drawing water from a stone. Though singer/bassist Satomi Matsuzaki’s lyrics are playfully inscrutable, they contain moments of clarity. Chaotic opener “Be Unbarred, O Ye Gates of Hell” casts wealth disparities and labor rights into the metaphor of who benefits from a household appliance. Next, the shambling guitar-pop of “Department of Corrections” proposes that it’s time to reclaim autonomy from the powers that be: “O jailer, who’s in charge around here? And if not you then is it I? Yeah.” And the anthemic tangle that is “Ancient Mysteries, Described” switches to straight-up power chords for its ode to civil disobedience. Still, for each line that seems decipherable, twice as many are charmingly enigmatic.
The music of 'Actually, You Can' gets its message across much more effectively. With little more than two guitars, a bass, and drums, Deerhoof conjures anxious garage funk, Tejano-infused noise rock, introspective dissonance, mercurial power pop, and just about everything in between. Guitarist John Dieterich has described the record as “utility music that makes you move and motivates you,” and indeed, each of these nine songs contorts with joyous abandon. A song as chock full of dueling riffs and fleeting tangents as “Be Unbarred, O Ye Gates of Hell” could only put people on their feet. Greg Saunier’s splashy and relentless drumming turns art-rock jams “Department of Corrections” and “Plant Thief” into songs that could soundtrack an uprising. Even the dislocated, slow-burning “Our Philosophy is Fiction” still feels like a rallying cry in the hands of a seasoned and uniquely expressive band like Deerhoof. Whatever 'Actually, You Can' may lack in pointedness, it makes up for in raw energy.
Yet with all of the intensity and musical bedlam at work here, the brief sections of calm somehow resonate the longest. There’s something oddly hopeful and pure in the softly strummed verses of closer “Divine Comedy,” where Matsuzaki muses on yet to be realized possibilities for change. The tone of her delivery is flat and her cadence is hard to follow, but they are coupled with tender guitar chords, inviting the listener to dig deeper into the ideas behind this rare emotional break. Such reserved divergences are uncommon on 'Actually, You Can'. So when Deerhoof does step back from their onslaught of prismatic garage band tropes, it’s a welcome reminder that rock & roll spectacle isn’t the only way to inspire change.  From: https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/deerhoof-actually-you-can/

Blue Man Group & Venus Hum - I Feel Love


 #Blue Man Group #Venus Hum #performance art #alternative/indie rock #experimental #electronic rock #percussion based #music video #Donna Summer cover

Matt Goldman, Phil Stanton and Chris Wink are entrepreneurs, innovators, educators, artists, and contemporary comedians, known collectively as the founders and originators of Blue Man Group. That these three bald and blue characters would become a cultural phenomenon – let alone the foundation for a most dynamic and successful artistic organization – is an idea that was all but unimaginable when these inscrutable beings first emerged, walking the streets of New York. “We weren’t really goal-oriented,” says Stanton. “When we started walking around the city, we did it because we wanted to see how people reacted. And being bald and blue was our social life. We didn’t want to go to bars and be part of a singles scene, a drinking scene. We wanted our social life to be somehow creative, and this was a lot of fun. We knew we would eventually do some kind of performance, but we never envisioned a commercial theater run.”      
Blue Man Group’s wildly popular, always evolving theater piece has been a mainstay in New York, Boston and Chicago for years. Now touring the country for the first time, there are also productions in Las Vegas and Orlando, and there are or have been productions in Tokyo and numerous European cities. The show is an absurd and wondrous blend of music, painting, science and technology, as the Blue Men silently engage in a variety of set pieces that run the gamut from primitive and childlike to witty and sophisticated. And the character has been the springboard for numerous additional ventures, including a rock tour, a museum exhibition, a 3D movie and a school.
“It’s all about creativity and innovation,” says Puck Quinn, creative director of character development and appearances. “If someone asks, ‘What does Blue Man Group do?,’ my answer is simple: ‘We innovate.’” Everything begins with the Blue Man, and although he’s been around for more than two decades, his founders still can’t entirely explain where he came from. Like the character himself, his origin is enigmatic. “There really isn’t an explanation,” says Goldman. “Chris dug up a picture that he drew when he was five years old, and it had three blue men in it. And I had a thing in my wallet for years with a blue tribe in South America. I don’t know why it was there; I never put pictures in my wallet. We think the Blue Man has always been here. The best answer is that we found each other.”
The impulse for going bald and blue emerged, in part, when the three longtime friends observed a clash of cultures on a New York sidewalk that no one else noticed. “We saw three punk rockers – giant Mohawks, safety pins in the cheekbone area, leather and chains – walk between three other gentlemen who were dressed in Armani suits and carrying alligator briefcases,” says Goldman. “These six guys didn’t even blink, and the people around them didn’t even blink. And we turned to each other and said, ‘If that scene didn’t even get one iota of consciousness put to it, what human imagery possibly could?” Eventually, an image began to emerge. “We thought, ‘What would surprise people?” says Stanton. “‘What’s going to catch someone’s eye and make them think?’ We thought that if we created a bald and blue character, that image would have the ability to surprise and spark some thought for a long time."   Goldman adds, “The first time we got bald and blue, we knew instantly it was something very special. And it was so freeing, because it wasn’t us. Our own egos were gone.”
Eager to see an end to the 1980s, they carried around a coffin and staged a “Funeral for the ’80s” in Central Park – two years before the decade ended. “We also walked around the streets or into bars; we were really interested in being a little provocative,” Goldman said. The traits of the Blue Man developed gradually. “There was something about him that seemed timeless, and something that seemed a little bit futuristic,” says Stanton. “He seemed to have the ability to be beautiful and comic at the same time. I’m not even sure we thought about that at first. It was really intuitive. We were trying to create a character that somehow represented humanity, but was able to be outside of humanity and look at it at the same time. We wanted to make a statement about community, about the power of a group, as opposed to the American individualist mentality. We thought the character would express community through something tribal, and drumming seemed the way to go. Chris had trained as a drummer, and I was from a really musical background. We wanted to draw from our own interests and backgrounds, and bring them into some kind of performance. We wanted to express something about the process, or the impulse to create.” They built drums and instruments made of polyvinyl chloride – or PVC – pipes. They caught thrown objects with their mouths, and learned how to make things squirt out of their chests. Not all their experiments were successful. “We tried these hats that had tape recorders in them,” says Goldman. “They were called ‘Read Your Mind’ hats.” An acquaintance complimented them for their bravery.          
They continued to develop material for three years, performing in downtown clubs and event spaces. “We wanted to do work that had never been seen onstage before,” says Goldman. Their shows were fresh and funny, exhilarating and experimental, but they were uncertain how long they could continue; they often paid out more than they took in on a gig. But in 1991, they were invited to perform at La MaMa, the prestigious off-off-Broadway theater. The show created a buzz, and that summer Blue Man Group took part in Lincoln Center’s Serious Fun Festival. In the fall they moved off-Broadway to the Astor Place Theater, where they remain to this day.
Two decades later, Goldman, Stanton and Wink are still tinkering with, refining, and updating the show. Each additional production, including the tour, provides an opportunity for new material, and even the New York show is refreshed from time to time. “Sometimes we just see something that we think is really cool, and we’ll try and see how we can make it theatrical,” says Stanton. The success of the show has enabled Blue Man Group’s founders to do what they most enjoy: innovate, create, and inspire. Among their many enterprises are CDs and DVDs; toy development; and the Megastar World Tour, their take on what a rock concert should be. “It plays around with all the trappings of the big arena concert,” says Quinn, “all the things we do that we don’t even think about – waving your hands in the air and bopping your head and dancing in your seat. We’re poking fun at all those little actions. But at the same time, we’re trying to put on the best rock concert there is, with all the stuff we want to see.”  From: https://www.stifeltheatre.com/news/detail/coloring-the-world-blue-the-history-of-the-blue-man-group

Shireen - Umai


 #Shireen #witchpop #folk rock #dark folk #neo-medieval #folk metal #electronic #Dutch #music video

Shireen is a band that comes from Netherlands and has managed in a little while to form a completely personal sound which is constantly evolving. By mixing folk and acoustic rock with ambient and pop and introducing the use of electronic samples and beats in their music, they created their own genre they call Witchpop. The "acrobatics" between various genres produces an excellent result that dresses the wonderful voice of Annicke, frontwoman and Shireen's lyricist. Annicke very kindly gave us an interview about the band's work and dreams.

What motivated Shireen to go on their own genre and what reactions do you get when you say “We play Witchpop”.

The genre we play (or actually, not conforming to a set genre at all) has never been a choice for us. We write whatever we like, and don’t try to fit it somewhere because that would only retain us from using the full scale of possibilities. So it happens naturally that our music usually floats in-between genres. We get our inspiration from a lot of different artists and music styles. We gave our style the name Witchpop to get rid of the “describe what you play” questions (which actually didn’t work haha). But even if people don’t know the genre, they immediately have a general idea or a feeling about what kind of music we play.

When someone listens to your works for the first time, they might be surprised by the contradiction that comes from the atmosphere of your music and your lyrics. How do you manage to combine social and inner matters (like the human cruelty and endurance or femininity and modern religion) in a style of music that in its "traditional" form is more "out of this world" and how does the audience respond to it?

I don’t feel there is a contradiction in the style of our music and my lyrics. I write the lyrics and sing vocals exactly how I feel them. The rest of the musicians in the band are really attuned to what I mean by it, and every single one of them has their own unique influence on the sound when writing songs. I strongly believe in using people’s strengths as good as possible. When we write a song for me it feels as if it grows like an organic thing. People who like our music sometimes tell me in person that they are very touched by the lyrics and their meanings, that is the most rewarding thing for me.

How do you evaluate Shireen’s musical evolution since 2014 and ‘Unmarked’, until today and what changes brought the new member addition to the Shireen sound?

We took it slow, deliberately. I’d rather do things good than rush it. I don’t want to make “fast food music” anyway; bringing out singles for the sake of exposure, or fill an album with less good songs just to finish and be able to sell the album sooner. The whole modern world is already filled with stuff like that, and I feel, and hope that people also feel that there is no soul in it. We all deeply enjoy the positive reactions we get from people, and it motivates me to make new things. Every new band member has a big influence on our writing music. When Guido joined us with electronics he brought a complete new world of possibilities with him, and we started to (re)write songs to implement his amazing sounds. So does Berend, our newest band member and guitar player, bring in his style and we get inspired by the new possibilities of it.

Starting with the Umai video we can see a character like an alter ego developing and we find her again on the covers of Shireen’s three digital single releases and of course on the ‘Matriarch’ album cover. Is this character going to be Shireen’s optical signature?

I have always styled myself quite dramatically for our live shows. It is like a ritual; I always do my own hair, makeup and design and make my own stage outfits. I try to catch this feeling in a sort of character design that I then wear and become it. It’s not like becoming a different person to me, it’s more like “wearing my extra special skin”. I just don’t like “normal”, So I would say yes, as long as I’m the frontwoman of Shireen it will probably always be a dramatic signature style.

From: https://www.blackvelvetradio.gr/index.php/synentefkseis/430-interview-with-shireen-welcome-to-sound-world-of-witchpop

 

It's A Beautiful Day - White Bird


 #It's A Beautiful Day #David LaFlamme #folk rock #psychedelic rock #jazz rock #1960s

San Francisco psychedelic folk-rock unit It's a Beautiful Day was primarily the vehicle of virtuoso violinist David LaFlamme, born April 5, 1941 in New Britain, Connecticut but raised in Salt Lake City, Utah. After beginning his musical education at age five, LaFlamme later served as a soloist with the Utah Symphony, following an army stint by settling in the Bay Area in 1962. There he immersed himself in the local underground music scene, jamming alongside the likes of Jerry Garcia and Janis Joplin; after his short-lived Electric Chamber Orchestra splintered, LaFlamme also co-founded an early incarnation of Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks before assembling It's a Beautiful Day in mid-1967. The group -- which originally included LaFlamme's keyboardist wife Linda, vocalist Pattie Santos, guitarist Hal Wagenet, bassist Mitchell Holman, and drummer Val Fuentes -- issued its self-titled debut LP on Columbia in 1969, scoring their biggest hit with the haunting FM radio staple "White Bird." Linda LaFlamme left It's a Beautiful Day soon after, going on to form Titus' Mother; keyboardist Fred Webb signed on for the follow-up, 1970's Marrying Maiden, while Holman exited prior to 1971's Choice Quality Stuff, recorded with new guitarist Bill Gregory and bassist Tom Fowler. In 1973, ongoing disputes over royalties forced LaFlamme out of the group he created, and upon installing new violinist Greg Bloch, the remaining members issued It's a Beautiful Day...Today before dissolving in the wake of 1974's 1001 Nights. LaFlamme mounted a solo career in 1977 with White Bird, continuing his protracted legal tussle with ex-manager Matthew Katz for years to follow.  From: https://www.allmusic.com/artist/its-a-beautiful-day-mn0000109012/biography

Patti Smith - Dancing Barefoot


 #Patti Smith #art punk #proto-punk #art rock #hard rock #new wave #alternative rock #singer-songwriter #1970s

Jeanne Hebuterne was married to a famous artist in the early 1900s. They had a child together, and she was pregnant with another. In 1920, her husband died, from either drug addiction, illness (or both). Two days later, Jeanne threw herself off a building, killing herself and her unborn child, leaving their first child orphaned. In ‘Dancing Barefoot’ Patti Smith looks at this shocking story of love, loss and grief, probably through the lens of her own relationships. She grabs the cliche "Oh God, I fell for you" with both hands, and twists it into a grotesque meditation on love and death. That last line is repeated over and over while Smith recites some cryptic poetry, probably representing the last thoughts in Jeanne's mind before she died.  From: https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858544768/

"I had the concept to write a lyric line that would have several levels - the love of one human being for another and the love of ones creator," Patti Smith wrote on her website. "So in a sense, the song addresses both physical and spiritual love."
The lyrics didn't come with the album, but a blurb on the sleeve read, "Dedicated to the rites of the heroine," which was the only way to know for sure that Smith wasn't singing the homophone "heroin." Smith says she was asked to change the word to avoid confusion and make the song more marketable, but she refused. This certainly stymied the song commercially, but Smith wasn't going to compromise her art.
Jim Morrison of The Doors was an influence on this song. "I always imagined Jim Morrison singing it, which resulted in me singing and recording it in a lower vocal register," Smith wrote. "I wanted the verse to have a masculine appeal and the chorus to have a feminine one." At the end of the song, Smith recites some of her poetry ("The plot of our life sweats in the dark like a face..."), which is something Morrison innovated on Doors songs like "Peace Frog" and "The WASP (Texas Radio and The Big Beat)." In some live versions, Smith would start the song with this spoken intro:
    We shut our eyes, we stretch out our arms
    And whirl on a pane of glass
    An affixation
    A fix on anything
    The line of life, the limb of tree
    The hands of he
    The promise that she
    Is blessed among women
"Dancing Barefoot" is one of Smith's most popular songs, and one of her favorites, performed at most of her concerts. It was never a hit, but neither were any of her songs with the exception of the Bruce Springsteen-written "Because The Night." Considering her acclaim it's surprising how few albums she sold and how rarely she made the charts. A song like "Dancing Barefoot" certainly could have become a hit if she had made some concessions and did the standard promotion, but that wasn't her M.O. Fans, journalists, and other musicians (like Springsteen) did what they could to spread the word, but mass appeal eluded her, which seemed to be for the best. Even decades later, many listeners are pleasantly surprised to discover her music and peel back the layers of her lyrics.
On the album notes, the song is dedicated to "Jeanne Hebuterne, mistress of Amedeo Modigliani." Modigliani was an Italian painter who died from tuberculosis in 1920. The next day, Hebuterne joined him in death by jumping out of a window.
"Dancing Barefoot" is the theme song to the 2023 miniseries Daisy Jones & The Six, about a fictional band from the '70s. The series uses a lot of original music, but producers felt "Dancing Barefoot" encapsulated the story better than anything they could write. The main character, Daisy (played by Elvis Presley's granddaughter Riley Keough), makes a spiritual connection with music that eventually leads her to the band.
From: https://www.songfacts.com/facts/patti-smith/dancing-barefoot

Mr. Elevator & The Brain Hotel - When the Morning Greets You With a Smile


 #Mr. Elevator & The Brain Hotel #psychedelic rock #psychedelic pop rock #neo-psychedelia #garage rock #alternative rock

Four years on from their debut album, LA Psych quintessentialists, Mr. Elevator & The Brain Hotel deliver a thoughtful and enticing experience in the 13-track work When The Morning Greets You. From a quick scan over, it is fair to say that Mr. Elevator has pulled out all the stops to deliver a wholesome spectacle. For fans of The Coral, Allah-Las, Pink Floyd, and Mystic Braves. From the start 'When The Morning Greets You with A Smile' the band are on it. Zesty vocals moving around a skippy bright drums/bass and organ groove. This song gets better with every turn with The Doors style bridge. While the chorus is vast and enrapturing, especially when the three-part harmony vocal line "And she's so fine" arrives. Again we hear a similarly skippy vibe with 'Madeline', which smiles all over the place, via the electric piano, bubbly bass, and enthusiastic drumming. The chorus has a melodic and harmonic feel not dissimilar to The Hollies mid 60's work. Beat rhythms and sugary Davey Jones vocals lead the way on the slightly distant 'Sunshine Daydream'. There is some mellotron like lines present which warp and warble cheerfully. 'Dreamer' has classic fuzz organ stomp, oompah bass and glam rock shuffle drums under a very Monkees formula, and pounding keys led groover 'Are You Hypnotized?' awakens rather than lulling, there are moments of late 70's British Two-Tone on here. The candyman-ish dull ghoulish piano 'A Lullaby' would have been an ideal sound shot for the end of last year. Leveling and pulling is the cosmic comedown Pink Floydful 'Intro' , moving into the dimly-lit 'Cosmic Bloom' a speedy Doors latin groove with grimy guitars, spacey organ flurries, under ghostly vocals.The energy intensifies via the powerhouse drums 'Fuzz Phantom', with hyped-up organ under Marc Bolan-ish whining. It has some sort of dramatised retro space crisis, think the late 60's/early 70's sci-fi TV programs. The robotic sonic expanse 'Tears Of Green' terrifies truly, like an imaginary galactic empirical marching anthem. For fans of the likes of Temples and Kula Shaker, here is a gem of a tune, mid-tempo drum beat, organs surround and drive forward, under exquisite three-part harmonies exploring the freedom mantra 'Let Me Be'. It really takes you away from life's current intense environment and the 'Let Me Be (Outro)', sees drums quick double-time march forward in a Doors style organ crescendo. The mellow dreamy, 'Ending' moves in an uncanny similarity, melodically to 'All Across The Universe', and that is fine as it revives the song's overwhelming essence.  From: https://soundblab.com/reviews/albums/17251-mr-elevator-when-the-morning-greets-you

Sally Rogers & Claudia Schmidt - Way Down The Road


 #Sally Rogers #Claudia Schmidt #folk #traditional #Americana #contemporary folk #singer-songwriter #a capella

Sally Rogers is a singer/songwriter and educator, who is originally from Beulah, Michigan and now resides in Pomfret, Connecticut. In her youth, Sally lived by the family farm and was exposed to music at an early age, as her mother was a pianist and the organist for the local church. Folk music was very popular in the ‘60s and early ‘70s, and singers like Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez and Judy Collins, were dominating the charts. After receiving a guitar for Christmas, Sally began to learn and explore songs from these and other popular artists. During her college years at Michigan State University, she studied Music Education and frequented the legendary coffee house The Ark… which showcased popular touring folk artists of the day. At The Ark, she attended ballad workshops, hoots, guitar and folk gatherings. During this time, she added the dulcimer and banjo to her arsenal and continued to expand her repertoire. After graduating college with a teaching degree, Sally began to perform regularly at local venues and clubs. She met the established Canadian folk singer Stan Rogers and he persuaded her to audition for a booking agency in Toronto. This turned out to be a good move because after passing the audition, she began to perform at major festivals and fine venues throughout Canada and the United States.  From: https://musicguy247.typepad.com/my-blog/2020/05/sally-rogers-interview-mountain-dulcimer-music-teacher-claudia-schmidt-howie-bursen-quilts.html

I first heard Craig Johnson sing "Way Down the Road" at the North Country Folk Festival in Ironwood, Michigan, where I was also performing. The version of "Way Down the Road" that I transcribed from Craig's set at the North Country Folk Festival is quite close to the version attributed to Sally Rogers. The differences are minor, mainly in syntax and punctuation. Since I was sitting next to Sally during Craig's performance, it is reassuring to know that our versions are nearly identical. Although I lost my transcription a while ago, I was able to reconstruct it from the information on this thread.
- Brian Humphrey

I remember back in '33
When we were still down in Tennessee,
Just gettin' by took all your time,
Away down the road.
The word went out in '41
Uncle Sam said get the big job done,
So we hired out at Willow Run
Away down the road.

Blow your whistle up through the pines
Out across the mountains and the Clinchfield Line
Blow for better times
Away down the road

Well we come from the mountains and the damp coal mines,
Started in to working on Henry's lines,
Eight hours steady and overtime,
Away down the road.
The city folks didn't want us 'round,
So they moved us out to the edge of town,
Salt box houses on the bulldozed ground,
Away down the road.

Chorus

We were strong backs bending in the welder's light,
Rivet guns pounding on a windy night,
A rich man's war, a poor man's fight,
Away down the road.
Punch in, punch out, make your time,
Hurry with the turret boys, you're getting behind,
The bombers roared low in the blacked-out skies,
Away down the road.

Chorus

You try to pay the rent man, try to save a buck,
Patching up the tires on a wore-out truck,
City folks pass and holler "Hey Kentuck",
Away down the road.
You say you'll move back south when the war gears down,
But your dreams die easy when your check comes round,
Caught between the mountains and a factory town,
Away down the road.

Chorus

Now the plant's closed down and the gates are closed,
New cars rust in the rain and snow,
Let me sleep where the gunstick laurel grows,
Away down the road.
You can bury me down in Tennessee,
'He lived for a dollar' - let my tombstone read
And died unknown in a strange country,
Away down the road.

From: https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=534


The Tea Party - The Bazaar


 #The Tea Party #hard rock #progressive rock #experimental rock #blues rock #industrial #Middle Eastern #Moroccan roll #Canadian

The Tea Party is a Canadian rock band from Windsor, Ontario, with blues, progressive rock and Middle Eastern influences who formed in 1990 and disbanded in October 2005. They reformed in 2011 to play some shows in Canada. They have released seven albums commercially during their time together. Guitarist and vocalist Jeff Martin, who has perfect pitch, was also producer for almost all of their albums. All three members played a range of instruments and they took up to 37 on tour with them at times in their career.  From: https://www.concertarchives.org/bands/the-tea-party

The Tea Party is a versatile and long-running Canadian rock band with a towering stage presence and a dynamic sound that combines blues, industrial rock, and psych-blasted progressive rock with Middle Eastern influences. Emerging in 1990 and led by charismatic frontman and guitarist Jeff Martin, the group released seven albums before they ceased operations in 2005. After reuniting for a series of shows in 2011, the Tea Party announced that they were officially re-forming, resulting in the release of 2014's acclaimed The Ocean at the End. The band continued to ply their esoteric wares into the next decade, releasing Blood Moon Rising in 2021.
The band formed in 1990 around the talents of Jeff Martin (guitars, vocals), Stuart Chatwood (bass, vocals), and Jeff Burrows (drums, percussion), all of whom had played in various groups together during their teenage years in Windsor. Adopting their moniker from the legendary hash sessions of Beat generation poets Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William Burroughs, the Tea Party released their eponymous debut album in 1991. Steeped in the dark, psych-blasted blues-rock of the Doors and Led Zeppelin and produced by Martin, who would go on to helm all of the group's future albums, the self-released record caught the attention of EMI, which quickly added the trio to their roster. 1993's Splendor Solis marked their debut for the major label, and the LP found favor both at home and in Australia. The group further honed their unique blend of hard rock, mystical open-tunings, sitar, and Middle Eastern rhythms on 1995's Edges of Twilight. Continuing to absorb influences, the trio adopted a darker, more industrial tone on 1997's Transmission, which maintained the dervish-like esthetic of prior outings while introducing sequencers, samples, and loops. The Tea Party continued to straddle the nexus of alternative hard rock and orchestral worldbeat on 1999's Triptych.  From: https://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-tea-party-mn0000565815/biography

Saturday, April 8, 2023

Stevie Wonder - Live PBS Soul! 1972

  Part 1

Part 2

#Stevie Wonder #Motown #soul #R&B #pop soul #funk #rock #gospel #jazz #progressive soul #1970s #PBS TV broadcast #music video

Introduced by smooth-talking host Gerry B, Stevie Wonder's 50-minute 1972 live set for PSB show Soul! was never broadcast in the UK. It documents a period when Wonder's creativity was so rampant that nothing Soul!'s producers threw at him could crush it: not a contemporary dance interpretation of You And I, nor a surfeit of low-budget psychedelic effects, nor the deadly patter of Gerry B ("You used to be Little Stevie Wonder. What was it like being Little Stevie Wonder?"). He shifts between My Cherie Amour and Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind with breathtaking slickness, interpolates Superwoman with passages of intricate afro-funk and ends a frantic Uptight with a wall of dive-bombing synthesized noise. Meanwhile the studio audience provide delightful period detail: when Wonder plays a vocorder, they gasp in awe, as if he's just donned a jet pack and flown around the studio.  From: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2005/sep/30/dvdreviews.popandrock

Oh boy. It just doesn’t get much better than this. Stevie Wonder at the height of his powers playing on the PBS show Soul! with his band Wonderlove. The episode was broadcast on December 20, 1972, just two months after his landmark album Talking Book was released. One month later, “Supersitious” would be the number one song in the country. As you watch this footage, try to wrap your brain around the fact that the man was all of 22 years old. From all indications Soul! was a wonderful show indeed. Produced by Ellis Haizlip, it ran from 1968 to 1973 and featured a wide array of incredible black performers and personalities, including Al Green, Kool and the Gang, the Staple Singers, Richie Havens, Earth, Wind, and Fire, Herbie Hancock, and Gladys Knight and the Pips as well as fascinating individuals like James Baldwin, Imamu Amiri Baraka, Louis Farrakhan, Nikki Giovanni, James Earl Jones, Melvin Van Peebles, and Stokely Carmichael. On occasion people like Curtis Mayfield or Wilson Pickett would take over the hosting duties. Nobody can say they put on a dull program. There’s so much astounding stuff in this video. Stevie sings a chunk on “My Cherie Amour” in Italian, while “You and I” is accompanied by a fully choreographed ballet. Stevie covers Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind,” and the Temptations’ “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone”—on this last number, Stevie uses a vocoder to arresting effect. There’s a brief, amusing interview with host Gerry Bledsoe. Like any good show, things heat up steadily, and by the end things are well-nigh out of control, up to and including the kaleidoscopic video effects (which actually make use of a kaleidoscope).

Track listing:
For Once in My Life
If You Really Love Me
Superwoman (Where Were You When I Needed You)
You and I (We Can Conquer the World)
What’s Going On/My Cherie Amour
Blowin’ in the Wind
With a Child’s Heart
Love Having You Around
Signed, Sealed, Delivered I’m Yours/Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone
Superstition
Maybe Your Baby/Superstition Outro
Uptight (Everything’s Alright)

From: https://dangerousminds.net/comments/higher_ground_transcendent_stevie_wonder_pbs_tv_special_from_1972

Today we take it for granted that Black culture is mainstream American culture. But, before the age of hip-hop, cable TV, the internet, streaming, and mobile phones, African Americans basically had to crowdsource their own entertainment guide. Forget about Black stories being told — so few Black artists were even accepted on TV that the African American community found out via word of mouth when a beloved performer would make a guest appearance on a sitcom, drama, or talk show. One appearance was treated as an important event. During the Civil Rights Era, negative representations of violence were easy to find on the nightly news, but positive portrayals of Black culture were hard to come by. Just one movie, TV episode, or live appearance was treasured. Sammy Davis Jr. starred in a 1967 TV war thriller, The Enemy, where he figures out that a fellow GI is really a German soldier and kills him before he can sabotage American troops. Audiences were shocked; Black audiences were shocked in a very good way.
As seen in the Mr. SOUL! documentary, that was the landscape that Ellis Haizlip wanted to change with his groundbreaking, often thrilling, public television series SOUL! (exclamation point included!) SOUL! showed the Black community in a positive, highly diverse light. Haizlip did not represent the Black artistic community as a monolith but as a mosaic with only excellence and originality as the connecting threads. That community could be classically trained or church-taught, rural or urban, come with exact theatrical diction or speak with a Spanish accent.
Starting in September of 1968, Haizlip produced and eventually presented, the very best of Black art, from dance and poetry to cultural icons and thought leaders. But the glue that held Haizlip’s venture together was music. Haizlip selected R&B sax legend King Curtis as the show’s musical director and even stepped aside to have soul legends Jerry Butler and Curtis Mayfield present a number of episodes. Like its namesake, SOUL! featured the greatest R&B artists of the day — many of them the greatest artists of all time. Caught right at the start of his career, the unstoppable vocal talent of future Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award-winner Al Green just bursts out of the screen. The same can be said for Patti Labelle, who performed on SOUL! a rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” that shows how naturally the Hollywood standard fit into the Civil Rights movement.
Ellis Haizlip, a black, openly gay intellectual, may have been a theatrical producer but he could spot musical talent a mile away. The songwriting team Ashford & Simpson had just scored a huge hit for Diana Ross with “Reach Out and Touch (Somebody’s Hand)” but Haizlip asked them to perform the song on his show. SOUL! features the duo’s very first performance and they knock it out of the park. Ashford & Simpson became stars while some artists on the series never broke through. Watching Novella Nelson’s searing rendition of “Cold Water Flat” may have you scratching your head as to why she didn’t become a household name.
The single greatest performance on SOUL! may just be Stevie Wonder’s marathon version of “Superstition.” Wonder was so thrilled to be on the series, and the audience was so into it, that Stevie would not stop playing. They literally ran out of tape - not film, tape! - and had to change cassettes to keep capturing Wonder in motion. As seen in the Mr. SOUL! documentary, when Questlove mentions the joy of watching the studio audience watching Stevie Wonder perform for them. They knew magic was being created in front of them.  From: https://www.pbs.org/independentlens/blog/listen-up-music-was-heart-of-soul/