Tis the season for tidings and joy and we here at TVDLA are thrilled to exclusively share a rock ‘n’roll Holiday treat, “The Anti Social Young American Christmas Lover’s Brigade” by Gary Calamar.
“I set out to write a Christmas song but wanted to give it some edge. So I came up with this sub-culture of punky, gothy kids who hate everything—except Christmas. I was inspired by The Kinks “Village Green Preservation Society, T-Rex’s “Children Of The Revolution,” and David Bowie’s “Young Americans.” My 12-year-old daughter Zoe does some lovely background vocals and I also got help from James Combs and Steven Stern who produced the track. It’s dedicated to the infamous Kim Fowley and the Spirit of Rock and Roll!”
This song comes of the heels of Gary Calamar’s debut EP, “You Are What You Listen To,” released this fall on Atlantic Records. Many of you are probably familiar with Gary’s name and voice from his Sunday night radio show on KCRW and his music supervision work on award-winning shows such as True Blood, Dexter, House, and Six Feet Under.
Run by husband and wife team of Stewart Anderson and Jen Turrell, The Flagstaff, AZ-based label Emotional Response flies the flag of punkish indie pop and specializes in the tried-and-true format of the 7-inch EP, with much of the focus on the projects of the operators including Hulaboy and Boyracer. Of particular interest is “Songs” by The Safe Distance, a group featuring Anderson in tandem with Crayola of the UK band Sarandon and David Nichols of Australia’s Cannanes.
Whether it spins at 45 or 33 1/3 RPM, comes enclosed in a designed sleeve or one made of plain paper, or has a large or small hole drilled in its center, there’s nothing quite like the charge inspired by a worthwhile 7-inch. ‘twas once the dominant vessel for chart hits, countless misses and a surfeit of regional obscurities, but even after the advent of the compact disc, subscriber-based singles clubs flourished, as did a few labels specifically devoted to the short form.
The trend continues with Emotional Response, a 7-inch enterprise (though a flexi-disc does lurk in its background) co-managed by a guy who as the sole constant member of Boyracer played no small role in the ‘90s singles boom, his band releasing platters through the auspices of such esteemed imprints as Slumberland and Sarah plus his own Red Square and 555 Recordings.
While certainly connected to Anderson’s prior achievements, Emotional Response doth waft a distinct aroma, combining varying degrees of punk weightiness and humor with indie pop invention and a smart approach to the combination of physical product and technological advancement; over half the discography contains supplementary downloadable material.
Tomorrow, December 16th, The Deadmen will play their down-home hearts out on the DC9 stage for a worthy cause.
The show will benefit Toys for Tots, so concert-goers are encouraged to bring a toy or two for a tiny tot in need (watch Justin Jones and Josh Read serenade their own tots with the first track off their self-titled EP below).
DC-based bandmates Josh Hoben, Justin Jones, and Josh Read seem to have hit on the ideal music-making formula. Each are accomplished singer-songwriters in their own right, but coming together for The Deadmen triggers a sense of refreshing collaboration. The result: smooth, authentic Americana.
Professor Shorthair, aka DJ Yamin of Nola Mix, is releasing two essential tracks from his NOLA Breaks disc on 7″ vinyl tonight at Gasa Gasa.
This is the first in a series of 7″ vinyl releases from the compilation of edits of unsung New Orleans funk tunes and local funk vocalists. The new record features New Orleans funk divas Mary Jane Hooper and Inell Young getting the royal boom bap treatment that’s geared for DJs and record enthusiasts alike.
The special event is the first of Berenice Mondays’ all vinyl nights, which will continue on the third Monday of every month featuring all-vinyl sets by their resident DJs during Happy Hour. Soulful, unpretentious, edgy, colorful, whatever you wanna call it. No Top 40. No attitudes (except the good kind). No fluff.
Psychedelics! Hallucinogenics! LSD! Mushrooms! Peyote! STP! I couldn’t wait to take them after reading Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, but I had trepidations. I was afraid they’d transport me to some far-off psychic realm and deposit me there for good, and I’d end up like Syd Barrett with Quaaludes melting in my hair, talking to my long-dead great-grandfather, the one who was dragged to death by horses. So I asked a more experienced buddy, a macrodoser who once dropped acid every day for a month, how long the trip would last. And he replied insouciantly, “Oh, anywhere from six hours to the rest of your life.” I wasn’t what you’d call reassured.
I only tripped a few times, because as it turns out I’m Woody Allen neurotic and far too fragile a psychic specimen to be messing about with my delicate brain circuitry, but had I been the Captain Trips type who knows, maybe I’d have heard Leaf Hound’s great Growers of Mushroom. Alas, I gave up hallucinogenics on the fateful night I dropped acid, then spent the next six hours down on my hands and knees looking for it.
But it’s never too late to rejoin the counterculture, which I have done by burning my draft card (okay, so it was a pay stub from work, but it’s the symbolism that matters) and checking out all the semi-obscure psychedelic bands from that time I can find. And the band I like best, by many many micrograms, is Leaf Hound. The British band only released one LP, but it’s a work of true genius. It has everything you could possibly want in an album—great vocals, great guitar, great songs, even great cowbell. I love this album and want everyone to know about it, because it’s like Owsley-quality blotter acid for your ears and guaranteed to cause you to turn on, tune in, and turn it up.
Press Play is our Monday morning recap of the new tracks received last week—provided here to inform your vinyl purchasing power. Click, preview, download, purchase.
What has 2014 brought us musically? Maybe we can say it was “the year of the …?”
Looking back at the last couple of weeks and plowing through my weekly posts and favorite albums, I have culled together my year-end list which I’m affectionately calling “the polar vortex of Idelic Hits.” The only thing I can tell you about this list is that it’s way fucking cooler than Rolling Stone’s list.
I guess more than anything, 2014 might be the year of the question. Will we see the end of the CD and MP3? Was it the year that pop ate itself? Is rock ‘n’ roll for old people? Where did rap music go? Is there such a thing as a record collection?
I do know a few things did happen—and many of them were “happenings.” Festivals were essential in 2014 and if you didn’t attend a number of different kinds both great and small, then you likely missed what really went on. But looking up and down my list, I really see more of my own taste buds than what went down in 2014. I guess each of us had our own year musically. Is this where streaming is taking us? Likely not.
I loved Cap’n Crunch with Crunchberries as a kid. I especially loved the Crunchberries, those red carcinogenic balls of pure goodness that I always saved for last. But when I became a man I put away childish things—except for my GI Joe, of course; you’ve got to draw the line somewhere—and I now begin every day with a heaping earful of Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake. It sounds better than Cap’n C.—bigger, bouncier, crunchier, and far more Mod—and it’s more nutritious too. I pour the LP from its round cereal box sleeve onto my turntable, drop the needle on the first savory helping, and exclaim, “Here comes the Nice!”
In my ‘umble opinion the Small Faces were the most versatile of the great Mod bands. The quartet had it all; they could kick out the jams like The Yardbirds; were as fixated on British mores and bourgy social life as the Kinks; as Mod and in-your-boat-race (when they felt the yen) as the Who; and as psychedelic (on such cuts as “Afterglow” and “The Journey”) as Pink Floyd. And they combined all of these trappings—wrapping the whole shebang in some thick English accents, and even adding a weird uncle of a narrator, Stanley Unwin, to contribute some “looney links” between tracks—on their undisputed masterpiece, 1968’s concept LP Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake.
Odgen’s Nut Gone Flake is both the Small Faces’ greatest and final statement, for they broke up shortly thereafter, Marriott departing to form the long-stemmed heavy blues/soul/boogie band Humble Pie, and the rest of the crew joining Jeff Beck ex-pats Rod “The Mod” Stewart and Ron Wood to form The Faces. (Notice, if you will, how it took two rooster-haired personages to fill Steve Marriott’s swank Chelsea boots.) But what a last hurrah! Unless you count 1969’s posthumously released The Autumn Stone, which you shouldn’t, as it’s a sub-par mish-mash of odds and sods that Andrew Loog Oldham cobbled together to siphon every last shilling he could from the Small Faces.
PHOTOS: RICHIE DOWNS | On the evening of March 9, we ventured to a charming area of Takoma Park, Md., to the equally charming restaurant Republic, where we had the honor of speaking with former Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic—himself a charming man.
Novoselic was at Republic to talk about FairVote, an organization chaired by Novoselic (an Independent voter) that educates and empowers Americans to remove the structural barriers to achieving a representative democracy that respects every vote and every voice in every election. Half of the proceeds from the evening at Republic went to the FairVote organization.
Novoselic started off the intimate evening with witty banter and the importance of being involved with FairVote. Afterwards, the capacity crowd was treated to an accordion rendition of Lorde’s “Royals,” the accordion on loan from local music shop House of Musical Traditions.
Before the festivities, we sat outside on Republic’s heated patio to discuss Novoselic’s political activism, online streaming, and of course vinyl.
Before you were involved with FairVote, you supported the creation of the Joint Artists and Musicians Political Action Committee (JAMPAC). Is that what started your political activism career?
Yes, that’s my story. I got involved in these music issues in Washington State, where Seattle music was taking the world by storm but our own state legislator was trying to pass censorship bills. City Council created anti-music ordinances like the Teen Dance Ordinance and other weird laws from overreaching legislators. I started to learn about the political system; it was my civic education. I worked to break these barriers down, but I didn’t do it by myself, I worked with a large group of people.
Through that, I learned about the barriers that exist in political participation, where political insiders circled the wagons making rules to benefit themselves. I wanted to get involved and discovered this group called FairVote, formerly the Center for Voting and Democracy, who proposed proportional and rank choice voting to give voters more choice and more power. That’s been my gig since then.
FairVote is a non-partisan, Independent, not Conservative or Liberal. It’s for people from all walks of life, of all ages, having an opportunity to participate. The reforms we proposed have a long history in the United Sates rooted in the Voting Rights act. You have this proportional voting rights system where a political or ethnic minority can have a chance to have a voice. We were just involved with a Voting Rights Act in California where Latinos felt misrepresented or excluded in their district. We worked to propose a voting system to give more power to those voters.
If you feel excluded from politics, and you want to have more power or more choices, go to FairVote.org to find out ways to make democracy more inclusive for all people.
Blue Note Records is celebrating 75 years of existence by giving numerous key titles from their incomparable catalog high-quality vinyl reissues, and it’s fitting that we begin our tribute to the label’s longevity with a look at one of their very finest releases, the great alto saxophonist Julian Cannonball Adderley’s 1958 masterwork Somethin’ Else.
The LPs of Blue Note’s classic-era are aptly described as an embarrassment of riches. Along with loads of amazing music, there is of course the surrounding context, and engaging with the fruits of the imprint’s labors offers a truly enlightening historical narrative. Naturally, it’s only part of jazz’s larger story, but it’s also a highly valuable component since Blue Note is an example where respect for the music trumped pure capitalistic desire.
That respect extended to the amount of studio time given to the musicians, but it also concerned other vital aspects of record production, beginning with the use of engineer Rudy Van Gelder and ending with the company’s justly celebrated graphic design. Blue Note didn’t have the market cornered on either the Van Gelder touch or the manufacturing of handsome album jackets, for it really was a fantastic era in terms of both fidelity and sharply conceived presentation, but throughout the salad days of Modern Jazz (and for a good while afterward) the label was at the forefront.
At this time of year, we can get a little nostalgic. It’s colder, the nights are longer, and it’s time to huddle into warm pubs for cosy chats over some mulled wine. Feldspar’s single “Hang Your Head” is equally reflective, but their message is a little more political, perhaps a little heavy for this time of year, but it’s important nonetheless and we should take heed.
“Hang Your Head” is the final single that completes the four single set to promote their Compass Tour. Singer Will Green explains the premise behind the single, “It’s anger at the way a select few have turned the most basic of human needs, having a roof over our heads, into a way to get rich and thereby suppress the rest of the population.” A very poignant message and one we should remember as we’re huddled in the comfort of our own homes this Christmas—not everyone is as fortunate.
The single itself is a passionate statement of intent and one of the band’s best of the Compass Tour singles. Hopefully we’ll hear more of that in 2015.
I so want to be one of the cool kids. But I can’t be one of the cool kids, because I don’t like Metallica. I don’t know why and I don’t know how and I don’t know much of anything at all, except this: Lots of people whose tastes in music I respect speak highly of Metallica, and early Metallica in particular. Whereas I must say the only Metallica song I’ve ever really listened to, “Enter Sandman,” has always struck me as absolutely fucktooth awful. It’s stiff and rigid and makes me feel claustrophobic, and based on it and it alone I would have to call Metallica one of the most tight-assed, as opposed to tight, bands in the history of rock.
I’m a firm believer in judging a band before I give them a fair shake, but in Metallica’s case I made an exception for the sake of my friends, who think I should like Metallica because they’re a seminal thrash band and broke commercial barriers and all that. So I listened to the highly recommended 1986 LP Master of Puppets, and having done so it is my expert musical opinion that Metallica probably sounds great if you’ve just snorted a big long line of crystal meth. Unfortunately I left all my crank back in 1988, and without it all I can say is that Metallica writes crappier-than-usual metal-issue lyrics, has no discernible sense of humor, and isn’t big on catchy melodies. What Metallica is big on is demonstrating its impressive chops.
It all sounds like a cold and lifeless exercise in virtuosity for virtuosity’s sake to me, the way Metallica goes from pumping out bone-crushing riffs at 1,000 mph to playing martial marching music that brings to mind the Nuremburg rallies. They might as well have called this baby Music to Invade Poland By. Oh, and I almost forgot, at least half the tunes are twice as long as they should be. Metallica holds the dubious honor of being the Grateful Dead of Thrash.
And it’s not like I can be accused of hating thrash metal per se. I really enjoy Anthrax, because their sound is less fascistic and they’ve written lots of great songs like “Caught in a Mosh” and “Antisocial” and “S.S.C./Stand and Fall” and even have a bona fide sense of humor! And they rap! Just try to imagine Metallica recording a hilarious tune like “Bud E Luv Bomb and Satan’s Lounge Band.” They’d blow black exhaust out their too-tight asses and explode like fragmentation grenades. And oh yeah, Anthrax’s lyrics actually make sense!
While technically a band, Aztec Camera was always the creative brainchild of Scotsman Roddy Frame. On the debut LP High Land, Hard Rain, released in 1983 through Rough Trade in the UK and via Sire in the US, he made an outstanding case for himself as one of the decade’s great pop music auteurs. The album embraced intelligence and sophistication as it abandoned any pretense to a rapidly aging punk standard that spawned it, and if it isn’t perfect, 30 years after High Land, Hard Rain’s making it wears its minor flaws very gracefully.
High Land, Hard Rain opens with “Oblivious,” one of the record’s more famous tracks, though in hearing it with fresh ears after a very long absence I was struck by two elements. The first was the heights of Roddy Frame’s pop ability and at the tender age of 18; where much pop climbs to greatness in the details, “Oblivious” can be accurately assessed as an exceptionally written tune. It attains its success through sublime construction around a foundation that many well-respected songwriters twice his age had never managed to build.
The second element was Aztec Camera’s sheer level of dedication to an unabashedly erudite sensibility. This was maximal, accessible, unabashedly sophisticated Pop Music not only shirking off any tangible debt to punk but also steering far clear of the swelling tide of the synth-wave. And this relates directly to my third thought; in the bass line to “Oblivious” lays the key to so much of High Land, Hard Rain’s essence.
We are besieged by rock stars who can’t move beyond their hits. Thank goodness that Paul Rodgers is no such rock star. Sure, if you listen to classic rock radio you’ll hear his iconic vocals whenever Clear Channel decides to play the same handful of (utterly classic) Bad Company or Free hits. But this is a rocker whose recent career has been occupied by “passion projects” focused on those who inspired him. That coupled with a selective touring schedule has not only kept his voice in its arena rock form, but has also kept him from falling into the creative morass of the “oldies” circuit.
His latest “passion project” is his first studio LP since 2000: The Royal Sessions. Recorded at Memphis’ iconic Royal Studios,The Royal Sessions is more than an homage to Stax Records artists like Otis Redding, Albert King, and Sam & Dave; for Rodgers, it is an honest and analog account of following inspiration despite all other plans.
Rodgers was in the midst of recording a long-awaited album of original songs when the opportunity to record at Royal Studios presented itself. The Royal Sessions’ authentic, reverent feel that is due in no small part to the roster of Memphis studio musician veterans, some of whom played on the very recordings that Rodgers honors on The Royal Sessions. (Did we mention it’s available on 200 gram vinyl, too?)
His love of the Memphis sound and the serendipitous way the album came about further inspired him to give back to the city that made the music that inspired his own music. To that end, all proceeds raised by sales of The Royal Sessions will be donated to the Stax Music Academy, which provides music education programs to children in inner-city Memphis. It’s a feel-good record all around. Rodgers certainly thinks so, and was thrilled to talk about its analog recording, his surprise at having a number one album in 2014, and the excitement that an artist feels when they’re onto something truly authentic.
When did you know you had this VOICE?
Well, I felt I could be a singer at a very early age; I think I must have been about thirteen or fourteen. I started life playing the bass, and I used to just sing harmonies and things with my good friend Colin Bradley back in those days.
And then one day, for some reason they asked me to sing a Little Richard song—“Long Tall Sally” I think it was, or “Good Golly, Miss Molly” perhaps. And I felt then that I could sing this…that I could do this thing called “singing.” The other time, actually, which made me think about singing…we used to do a Solomon Burke song called “Everybody Needs Somebody to Love.” [Starts singing the song.] I used to take the bass off and sing that one, and I used to get a real kick out of that. I think it was during those times that I sort of graduated from playing the bass and focusing just on singing. So, it goes back a long way.
You’re from northeast England. How did where you grew up shape your musical influences?
Well, I was born in Middlesbrough, which at that time was a very heavily industrialized area. There was shipbuilding, steelworks, and chemicals. It’s very much changed now, as a lot of the shipbuilding and steelworks have moved to other parts of the world; the chemical works are still there. But, when I was growing up, it was quite a gritty place. There were a lot of toxins floating about in the air, and the chemical works—we called them “the works”—was the place that you were expected to go once you left school. My school was about three or four stories high, and I used to look out from my classroom on the top floor and I could see all “the works” and the smoke belching out of it. I used to think, “Oh my God, is that where I’m going? Is that the only way?” [Laughs]
The long anticipated music education facility will open its doors for the first time with a gala concert featuring the Jordan musical family of New Orleans led by patriarch Edward “Kidd” Jordan at 8 PM. Advance tickets are sold out although a limited number will be available on a first come, first serve basis. WWOZ will stream the performance.
After nearly two years of renovations, the historic building, located at 1225 N. Rampart Street, is poised to become a state-of-the-art education and community center. It will be the permanent home of the Don “Moose” Jamison Heritage School of Music and will serve as the location for many programs and events produced by the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Foundation. It also will be available for other community arts organizations for classes and events. The building has seven classrooms (including dedicated labs for piano and drums) and a 200-seat performance hall.
The Jazz & Heritage Center is named in honor of George Wein and his late wife Joyce, the pioneering festival producers who helped to launch the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival (which is owned by the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Foundation) in 1970.
