Monthly Archives: July 2022

Celebrating Brian May on his 75th birthday. —Ed.

It’s a shame, when you think about it. All the great albums I never heard growing up because (1) I could rarely afford the cost of an LP, and (2) there was no great or even half-decent FM radio station within listening range of the one half-horse town (the other half of the horse was owned by nearby Harney, and they got the front end) I called home.

Take Queen’s Sheer Heart Attack. Never heard it. Never heard of Queen period until “Bohemian Rhapsody,” which I should have liked but didn’t because I thought it was too camp. Too camp! This from a guy who spent the better part of his adolescence idolizing Elton John. But that’s the way I roll. I didn’t like the pitch of Freddie Mercury’s voice, or the band’s lush and ubiquitous vocal harmonies, and as for the songs, they were too structurally baroque for my primitivist tastes. In hindsight, I was a little punk in the making. My attitude was keep it simple, which was why I never liked progressive rock, period, until I started to get high and listened to my fair share of Peter Gabriel-era Genesis.

And if I didn’t like Queen much to begin with, I really disliked them after they put out those bookend hits, “We Are the Champions” and “We Will Rock You.” To me they sounded like pseudo-fascistic declarations of supremacy, and I thought then and still think now their Übermensch shtick would have gone over like gangbusters at the Nuremburg Rallies. The line “no time for losers” offends me as much as any line in rock history, which is why I never listened to 1974’s Sheer Heart Attack even after I knew it existed. I thought of Queen as a bunch of snotty high-pitched twats whose songs were too complicated for their own good, and wrote them off as bad rubbish.

But there is a time and a place for everything, and now is the time to give Queen their chance at rocking my world. And guess what, they have. Sheer Heart Attack isn’t the perfect LP, but it includes a slew of cool songs I like, even if some of their affectations continue to irk me. Bottom line: Any band with a guitarist as good as Brian May, and that can come up with a line as good as “Give me a good guitar/And you can say my hair’s a disgrace” is okay with me.

Read More »

Permeated with arts college experimentalism from a sadly bygone era, American Rituals throws a deserving spotlight onto the early work of Cheri Knight, a little-known composer of enduring worthiness who took part in the Pacific Northwest’s fertile subterranean scene of the early 1980s. There are ties to eventual higher profile goings on from the same region, but these connections ultimately take a back seat to the sharpness and freshness of Knight’s achievements. RVNG Intl. subsidiary Freedom to Spend collects seven of them onto vinyl that’s available now; purchasing the digital gets you a bonus track.

Roughly a decade after the period of creativity captured on American Rituals, Cheri Knight released a pair of solo records as a singer-songwriter. The second of them, The Northeast Kingdom, was issued in 1998 on Steve Earle’s E-Squared label. Earle also contributed to the record instrumentally, alongside backing vocalist Emmylou Harris.

Those two solo efforts and her prior activity as the bassist-vocalist in Blood Oranges, an early alt-country band from the Boston area with two early ’90s discs on the East Side Digital label, are pretty far afield stylistically from the works that Knight brought to fruition while attending Evergreen State College. But the scoop is that Knight grew up in Western Massachusetts and alternated coasts for a while. First, she studied philosophy and music at Whitman College in Washington, next built a stone house in New Hampshire over the course of a year, and then settled in for a stretch at Evergreen.

Thereafter, Knight clearly migrated back east and then shifted into a more traditional gear. There are connective aspects, however. The building of that stone house, for starters. Also, a press photo accompanying American Rituals of Knight posing with the skull of either a cow or a horse. And on that note: RVNG Intl/ Freedom to Spend states that a portion of the proceeds from American Rituals will benefit Draft Gratitude, a draft horse rescue in Winchester, New Hampshire dedicated to saving the lives of senior working horses.

Read More »

VIA PRESS RELEASE | Regina Spektor is set to release a limited-edition box set of her beloved self-released debut album 11:11 in celebration of its 20th anniversary, due on August 26.

The special box set includes a remastered vinyl edition of 11:11, 2xLP collection of live performances entitled Papa’s Bootlegs including never before heard or released songs from the 11:11 era—recorded by Regina’s father—a full color lyric booklet with liner notes, reproductions of original fliers, art, doodles, and photos. The album cover for Papa’s Bootlegs was hand drawn by Spektor’s friend Seth Avett of The Avett Brothers.

“For years I was relieved that this little record, made with friends while at university, got lost to time. It felt more like an old yearbook photo than something to be shared,” says Spektor. She explains, “When I listened for the first time in almost 20 years, I realized how special it was to have this snapshot of my younger self, and of a time that’s now completely gone. I had very little from this era, but my dad remembered that he had recorded all my earliest shows and shared those camcorder videos with me.”

“I discovered dozens of songs I had completely forgotten about. As I listened, I was surprised that instead of cringing I was filled with gratitude. I finally got to thank that young girl for spending so much of her time working on art and for setting me on a lifelong path of songwriting and music making.”

Friction are arguably one of Japan’s best noise rock bands, but they have deep roots in New York City’s No Wave movement. Abandoning their band 3/3, vocalist/bass player Reck and saxophonist Chico Hige set out for the United States. where they formed Teenage Jesus and the Jerks with enfant terribles Lydia Lunch and James Chance, then became founding members of James Chance and the Contortions.

But who really wants to hang with the likes of Lydia Lunch and James Chance? There are limits to human endurance, and I can think of few things more queasy-making than being trapped in a windowless room with Lower East Side hypesters who take themselves far, far too seriously. Speaking solely for myself, I’d sooner spend my time nibbling on sponge cake with Jimmy Buffett. So Reck and Hige returned to the Land of the Rising Sun, changed their band name from 3/3 to Friction, and following some line-up changes went on to release some dozen LPs, if you include live albums and compilations.

Dumb Numb CD was recorded at Shibuya Club Quattro on September 10, 1989 and released the following year. Friction did away with Lunch’s hideous screech and Chance’s free jazz saxophone slobber to produce a sound that isn’t mutated, shard-fractured, atonal, or dissonant. In its place they substitute a straight-ahead, bass-pummeling approach that one might almost call traditional—your average listeners needn’t send their ears to reeducation camps to listen to this LP.

Read More »

VIA PRESS RELEASE | The Communards’ album Red will be reissued by London Records on 7th October 2022. In celebration of the release, The 2 Bears have remixed the duo’s smash hit “Never Can Say Goodbye” and you can hear it today. The remix is part of a double CD and vinyl release of Red on red and white vinyl, featuring previously unreleased tracks and new liner notes by Owen Jones.

In their first remix since 2014 The 2 Bears (aka Joe Goddard and Raf Rundell) deliver a ten-minute dance workout of “Never Can Say Goodbye” in three parts: a bubbling house intro with Somerville’s voice thrown to the top in glorious isolation, spine tingling dash of strings in part 2 before descending into a nihilistic outro of drilled down synths, grinding bass and totemic vocals. The 2 Bears’ Raf Rundell waxes lyrical about their return to the studio: “We donned our ceremonial robes and headgear, lit the fire and wound up our machines. Throwing out our dizzy hang ups we hailed G.L.O.R.I.A to Glasgow’s golden throated songbird. 2 Bears reunited in pursuit of the groove.”

“Never Can Say Goodbye” reached No 4 in the UK singles chart and heralded the release of The Communards’ sophomore album to be produced with Stephen Hague. It was Red which really encapsulated the genius of the partnership between Jimmy Somerville’s iconic countertenor / falsetto tones and Richard Coles’ magical piano skills. “We wanted to bring down Thatcher by doing cover versions of ‘70s disco classics and sort of supper club jazz music. It perhaps seems a rather over ambitious project now, but at the time it was a brilliant idea.” recalls Richard Coles.

“Before anything else, Jimmy and I were activists. We’d grown up gay in a hostile world and for us that was a matter of life and death – literally – so we weren’t messing about. We wanted to fight that fight,” he continues. “And that was not just a fight on one front, it was a fight on all sorts of fronts. We thought that our liberation could only happen if it liberated others.”

Read More »

Celebrating Artimus Pyle, born on this day in 1948. —Ed.

It is my unreconstituted thunk that Lynyrd Skynyrd is America’s second greatest rock’n’roll band, right behind the Velvet Underground. Hyperbole? Mebbe. But during the four short years before fate shot their airship down, the Southern rockers produced a veritable shitload of immortal (and yes smart) tunes that I, for one, have been listening to with pleasure for decades.

1975’s appropriately titled Nuthin’ Fancy isn’t the best Skynyrd LP out there. It may even be the worst of the five albums the original Lynyrd Skynyrd—which is the only Lynyrd Skynyrd that matters—recorded between 1973 and 1977. It lacks the sublime touches that make Skynyrd’s first and second albums rock landmarks, and the assortment of to-die-for songs (“That Smell,” “One More Time,” “All I Can Do Is Write About It”) scattered throughout the two LPs that came after it. The way I see it, Nuthin’ Fancy only boasts two songs—I’m talking about “Saturday Night Special” and “Am I Losin’”—that are truly indispensible.

The biggest problem lies in the songs, natch, and the problem with the songs is that they were written in a rush, in the studio between tours. I’ll stand Ronnie Van Zant up against any American songwriter (exceptin’ B. Dylan) ever, but when it came to Nuthin’ Fancy he simply didn’t have the same amount of time he’d had to write such immortal tunes as “Sweet Home Alabama,” “Tuesday’s Gone,” or “Simple Man” from 1973’s (Pronounced ‘Lĕh-‘nérd ‘Skin-‘nérd) and 1974’s Second Helping. (Indeed, he’d never again have the time to sit down and do some leisurely songwriting during his lifetime, which is why Lynyrd Skynyrd was never able to top the transcendental brilliance of its first two LPs.)

Read More »

When was the last time you really danced and just lost yourself in the music without caring what you looked like? Analyzing music is a rewarding experience, but sometimes it’s best to just shut up, enjoy what you’re hearing and simply dance. And if you’re going to engage in such an activity, there’s no one finer to provide a soundtrack than James Hunter.

Hunter’s 2004 breakthrough album, People Gonna Talk was a refreshing listen back then as it was released just on the cusp of the retro-soul groove revival of the early 2000s, but it’s Hunter’s compositional skills which keeps the album fresh these 16 years after its release. Since then, he’s released many equally enjoyable albums, recently on the famed Daptone label.

So, it’s time for a retrospective. The James Hunter Six has recently released a compilation titled, With Love. To those who have enjoyed Hunter’s music over the last two decades it’s a great opportunity to revisit some classics from his catalog, but to the uninitiated, it’s a huge “where have you been” moment; a great opportunity to learn about a genuine soul music genius living in our modern day midst.

James Hunter joins me from Brighton in the UK to discuss the new compilation, his relationship with Daptone Records, a few secrets that go into getting the sonic quality of his albums just right, and how the best gigs are the ones where there’s plenty of room for people to get out of their seats and dance.

Evan Toth is a songwriter, professional musician, educator, radio host, avid record collector, and hi-fi aficionado. Toth hosts and produces The Evan Toth Show and TVD Radar on WFDU, 89.1 FM. Follow him at the usual social media places and visit his website.

VIA PRESS RELEASE | Spacehog’s 1995 debut album Resident Alien burst the band onto the scene with its big Hit “In the Meantime,” but The Chinese Album, the second (1998) record from this British expat band, is every bit as good if not better.

The second (1998) release from the British expat group Spacehog, The Chinese Album was originally conceived as the soundtrack for a movie called Mungo City; the movie never got made but thankfully the album retained the glam/power pop song by the same name (which, in a just universe, would have been a big hit)! This record never really got its due, partly because the band took three years to follow up on the success of their debut album Resident Alien and its hit “In the Meantime.”

But The Chinese Album, in many ways, is a much more fully-realized work than its predecessor; instead of merely playing at being a glam-rock band, Spacehog here crafts a fully-realized sound and aesthetic, with nods to such artists as Queen, Badfinger, The Kinks, and even R.E.M. (Michael Stipe makes an appearance on the mellow “Almond Kisses”). And the songwriting (e.g. “Lucy’s Shoe”) is consistently strong, making The Chinese Album one of the late ‘90s’ great lost records. A pink vinyl pressing, nestled next to a 4-page, full-sized, full-color insert holding all the groovy graphics that accompanied the CD release.

Of the proto-punk bands that hailed from the city with the dullest football helmets in the world, only the Dead Boys, Pere Ubu, and Devo made much of an impression on listeners from the rest of the US. Simple parochialism certainly played its part; NYC’s callow sophisticates looked askance at them as yokels from a city no one cared about situated on a lake most of them couldn’t name. And they were hardly alone—when I googled Cleveland to find out what it’s chiefly famous for, one of the responses I got is “It’s not that big.”

But it’s the bands that generated zero excitement outside Cleveland that truly interest me—I’m talking Cinderella Backstreet, the Styrenes, Mirrors, and the art terrorists who made up the electric eels. The obscurity of both Mirrors and the electric eels is easily explained—each band released only one single during their tenures.

What’s more, the electric eels only played five gigs during their existence, for the simple reason that they terrified audiences and alienated club owners, who ultimately passed on booking a band that, according to the Dead Boys’ Stiv Bators, might take the stage with a gas-powered lawn mower. The electric eels looked forward to the violent and unpredictable antics of the Brian Jonestown Massacre’s Anton Newcombe—when they weren’t physically assaulting their audience the electric eels were physically assaulting one another, and when they weren’t physically assaulting one another you could be sure they weren’t in the club.

Some long-due appreciation finally came the electric eels’ way in the form of 2014’s Die Electric Eels. The songs on the compilation hail from the Velvet Underground/Stooges tradition, with some brain-damaged garage rock tossed in. The results are abrasive and sizzle like downed power lines; Die Electric Eels is equal parts attraction and repulsion, but if you like your music raw it’s a sure winner.

Read More »