AVRIL LAVIGNE
“Hot”
(Canada/Sweden 2007)
Hands down, “Hot” is the best Dr. Luke production since “Since U Been Gone.”
And the extreme use of Autotune is okay by me when it creates a vocal effect and sounds weird on purpose.
Stop complaining. The rock kids of 2025 will worship this, just like how it’s finally okay for everyone to like ABBA now.
VHS OR BETA
“Can’t Believe a Single Word”
Bring on the Comets
(Louisville, KY 2007)
High-speed culture has a lot of advantages: you can watch English Premier League football live on TV in Los Angeles, you can listen to Kenny “The Snake” Stabler offer color commentary for the Alabama Crimson Tide every Saturday on Sirius Radio and eBay users all over the world will pay ridiculous amounts of money for your Counting Crows vinyl.
Unfortunately, the modern world has really screwed things up for rock bands.
VHS Or Beta are getting hammered for doing what the best bands always do. After releasing an instrumental debut EP in 2003, they went on the road, played a lot of shows and found out what they really wanted to sound like.
Their new album Bring on the Comets accomplished two things: the band sounds relaxed and confident plus there are at least five songs that should be all over the radio. I wouldn’t tell you this is better than LCD Soundsystem’s Sound of Silver, but you’d do well to have both records in the same collection.
What’s the problem here?
“First.”
High-speed culture not only demands instant evaluation of every record (before) the day it’s released, it insists that every band arrive with its shtick/creative vision (take your pick) intact.
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s first album showed up with creative intact and the internet went wild. Except they hadn’t really played any shows and the second album suffered from pressure to recreate the moment. The record’s not terrible (if you like the first one) but the pack got bored and moved on to something else.
VHS Or Beta got punished for changing their sound. Never mind that the changes made them a better band, the cultural gatekeepers decided the band had betrayed the Daft-Punk-goes-rock sound that got them attention in the first place.
I think Google’s the real problem here. Everyone reads what everyone else wrote before they hear a record and almost no one wants to be the dissenting opinion. Disagree too many times and people stop linking to your site.
That’s why reading about new music online is a waste of time. If all the people bitching about the new album heard “Can’t Believe a Single Word” on the radio or on the jukebox down at the bar, they’d wonder what that cool song was.
I’d like to read a music magazine that only wrote about records that came out at least six months ago. No matter how smart your editors or critics might be, you’re writing in a vacuum before the music actually gets out into the world and real people have a chance to respond. An editor who dared add a little context and perspective to music writing would be incredibly disruptive.
Fortunately, there’s real radio play on the single and the band are on tour. All those wrongheaded reviews will still be searchable, but most people who buy tickets & t-shirts don’t pay attention to the internet anyway.
MILBURN
“What Will You Do (When the Money Goes)?”
These Are the Facts
(Sheffield 2007)
These are the facts:
Nowadays, there aren’t many commercial alternative radio stations in middle America and the kids won’t touch the kind of major label alt-rock that dominated the college radio charts back in the 80s. More and more rock bands on the UK charts never see a US release.
Which brings us to Milburn.
Milburn’s first two Mercury UK singles charted last year, but their album didn’t get a US release. No album release, no American tour.
Maybe Universal’s US companies heard Milburn’s Yorkshire accents and compared them to the Arctic Monkeys, whose first album hardly reached Maroon 5 heights over here.
Now Milburn has a new album and “What Will You Do?” is the first single.
I went to Sheffield in 2005 and produced their first Mercury single (watch the “Send in the Boys” video here), so I know the guys (Joe, Louis, Tom & Greeny) and how amazingly well they play.
“What Will You Do?” is deceptive; the melody sounds very English, like something John Barry would write for a James Bond theme, but Milburn hammers the track with a purposeful brutality few UK bands could pull off.
I don’t know which American radio format works for them; there’s a lyrical intelligence here that seems to rule out near-term rock or pop radio play. But put them on the road here and let them tour regularly for a couple of years and Milburn will deliver.
They’ve got the talent, they’ve already shown their commitment by touring endlessly since the day they signed to Mercury and they’re entertaining as hell when you meet them in person. This album will connect in Europe. If Universal’s paying attention, you’ll get a chance to hear it in America.
CHARLIE BURTON & THE CUTOUTS
“Breathe for Me, Presley”
Is That Charlie Burton…Or What?!?!
(Lincoln, NE 1982)
It doesn’t matter how many words Peter Guralnick or Greil Marcus write about Elvis, this song will always be the definitive account of what went down on August 16, 1977.
TAV FALCO - PANTHER BURNS
“Money Talks” & “Tina the Go-Go Queen”
Sugar Ditch Revisited EP
(Memphis 1985)
Tav Falco hopelessly blurs the line between conceptual artist and authentic bluesman. I honestly believes he doesn’t know the difference between “real” and “fake.”
Panther Burns was best known in the early ’80s as the band where Alex Chilton was hiding. Depending on your point of view, 1981’s Behind the Magnolia Curtain was either a brilliant deconstruction or completely disorganized. “LX” was a tiny, blurry photo on the album sleeve and, by 1984, he was rumored to be limiting personal appearances to a job either sweeping floors or doing the dishes at Jimmy’s in New Orleans.
Someone (read “me”) got the idea to invite Panther Burns to play the WHRB college radio benefit at the Rat in early 1984. Tav assured us that Alex was on board and would make the trip north for the show. This was to be Alex Chilton’s first Boston live appearance since….well, maybe since the Box Tops.
Tav arrives day of show with Jimmy Ripp in tow. This should have been an impressive addition to the Panther Burns. Jimmy was a world-class guitarist who was playing with Tom Verlaine and later earned some notoriety in Mick Jagger’s solo band. In fact, it was a disaster since the show had been advertised as “Tav Falco’s Panther Burns with ALEX CHILTON” with Alex’s name in enormous type in the Boston Phoenix.
Word got around and maybe a dozen people showed up for the gig. Crass, who booked the Rat, cut the guarantee in half and there was certainly no benefit cash for the radio station.
Tav was completely unfazed by all of this. I’ve always thought of him as the kind of nineteenth-century charlatan who would have performed miracles for the crowned heads of Europe. Everything he said would be a complete fabrication, but it wouldn’t matter as long as Tav convinced himself of whatever story he was selling that week.
We took Tav & Jimmy back to our dorms because they didn’t really have a place to stay. Through it all, Tav seemed to focus on the fact that he’d been booked by “Harvard,” as if that was institutional validation of his art project. If the average college radio station has only a marginal relationship with its school, multiply that by a million to understand how little WHRB had to do with Harvard University.
We did get a story about how Tav and Jim Dickinson broke into a Memphis studio (American?) and liberated sacred, unreleased Sir Mack Rice demos. Mack once had a hit with “Mustang Sally” but tales of his unreliability dwarfed anything Alex had yet inspired.
Tav promised that the songs were so great that they’d change the course of history.
The songs surfaced a year later on the Sugar Ditch Revisited EP, produced by James Luther Dickinson and featuring both Alex Chilton and the Memphis Horns.
Tav’s got only a passing acquaintance with the pocket and the amazing thing here is how the musicians adapt to his curious phrasing. It’s the Na-Na’s in “Tina the Go-Go Queen” that best explain it; Tav’s all over the place and his clumsiness manages to convey all the sweat and grease and diminished expectations that show up in all the best Memphis music.
It’s not very professional, but it’s very, very deep.
Mack Rice eventually recorded “Money Talks” on 2000’s This is What I Do, produced by Jon Tiven in a thoroughly polished and incredibly boring fashion.
(New Rose Records ROSE 73)
REDD KROSS
“Citadel” & “Blow You a Kiss in the Wind”
Teen Babes from Monsanto EP
(Los Angeles 1984)
Sometimes the evidence suggests that Redd Kross are missionaries from an alternate universe where rock bands mainline Cap’n Crunch instead of heroin, HR Pufnstuf is just as influential as Lou Reed and 1976 dominates pop culture in a way 1967 never imagined.
Item: When Redd Kross played NYC’s Roxy in support of their 1987 album Neurotica, backstage was dominated by Wendy, who wandered around the dressing room carrying one of those 70s portable cassette recorders.
Wendy had taped the laugh track from episodes of The Brady Bunch and filled one side of a cassette. Whenever anyone said something she considered funny, she hit play on the cassette and filled the room with canned laughter. No one acted like this was particularly weird; in fact, everyone seemed to agree with Wendy’s attempts to make real life more like a sitcom.
I think Wendy grew up to be a celebrity stylist. You can see her for yourself dancing in a fur bikini on the back jacket of the Every Band Has a Shonen Knife That Loves Them compilation LP.
Redd Kross manage to erase the air quotes. In a post-modern world, there’s never anything “ironic” about them. They take inspiration from anything that attracts their attention, giving equal weight to Bewitched and the Rolling Stones.
Neurotica was marred by Tommy Erdelyi’s muddy production and the sound on 1991’s Third Eye went all clean and shiny just when America was finally going loud. It’s the cover versions on 1984’s Teen Babes from Monsanto that come closest to capturing what Redd Kross does live.
Teen Babes was briefly released on CD as the bonus tracks to this 1992 Australian tour EP but good luck finding one of these. “Citadel” comes from the “bad” Rolling Stones album, Their Satanic Majesties Request, while “Blow You a Kiss in the Wind” was performed by Samantha’s cousin Serena on Bewitched.
Redd Kross returned to action last year with Jeff & Steve McDonald joined by Robert Hecker and Roy McDonald from the Neurotica band. The chemistry is still there; all the Phaseshifter and Show World songs sound way more exciting when these four play them.
(Teen Babes from Monsanto - Gasatanka Records E-110)
PULP
“Common People”
(Sheffield 1995)
Class warfare can make for some awful records. Not this time. My favorite single of the 90s.
When you work in music, the wake-up call comes when you’re forced to give up your romantic notions about the nobility of the artistic process.
Art is a nasty business, just as nasty as highway construction, venture capital or any other pursuit that involves trading products or services for money.
I’m reminded of this by Alan McGee’s attack on My Bloody Valentine in a new Guardian article about the revival of shoegaze. Read it here.
Alan started Creation Records, the label that released MBV’s Loveless album. Here’s his quote from the article: “Bloody nonsense. My Bloody Valentine were my comedy band. Ride were different - they were a rock band, really, a fantastic rock band - but My Bloody Valentine were a joke, my way of seeing how far I could push hype.”
Alan has good reason to dislike MBV’s Kevin Shields. The band spent an enormous amount of time and money making Loveless, so much that they pushed Creation’s finances to the brink of label collapse. After the album failed to recoup its costs, Creation let the band move to Island Records. The press were appalled but, once Kevin had Chris Blackwell’s money, he returned to the studio and proceeded not to put out an album for the next fifteen years. If Axl was smarter, he’d point fingers at Kevin whenever anyone starts asking questions about when he’s going to release Chinese Democracy.
Maybe Alan’s just trying to amuse himself; his talents as a provocateur rival his abilities as one of the world’s great record men. But calling My Bloody Valentine a “joke” sounds like you’re calling Loveless a joke and questioning the judgment of anyone who fell for your scam in the first place.
My Bloody Valentine’s 1992 show at the Masquerade was one of the most epic I’ve ever seen, one that people in Atlanta talk about as much as the old folks go on about the Sex Pistols at the Great Southeast Music Hall or New Order’s first show at the 688. I’d even compare it to the first Jesus & Mary Chain show at the Channel in Boston; My Bloody Valentine may have been less confrontational during their set but the long-term impact was just as intense.
Loveless is a wonder. “Only Shallow” never fails to stop a room cold whenever it’s on a party tape. The album still acts like a secret signifier in your record collection; a copy of Loveless marks you as someone who knows where they keep the really good stuff.
And, make no mistake, Ride were an outstanding rock band. I saw for myself at the Cotton Club on the Going Blank Again tour. They showed up for work on time and cooperated with the local record company people. “Vapour Trail” and “Leave Them All Behind” are both classic songs that deserved a chance to be hits in America. But, at his best, Mark Gardener was a less charismatic version of The Charlatans’ Tim Burgess, plus everything had gone terribly wrong by the time Ride recorded their lifeless cover of The Creation’s “How Does It Feel to Feel” on their third album.
Here’s the problem: both Loveless and the 1992 My Bloody Valentine tour exist independently from the issue of what a jerk Kevin Shields might be. Once you put yourself behind the music, your own experiences can color how you hear the bands you’ve worked with.
I know this very well from my own experience. I’ve recently begun to make peace with one of my own nightmare projects from the early 90s. That record still has its flaws but so many people have testified to its virtues lately that I’ve started to separate the actual music from the experience of making it.
So, Alan: Ride was an outstanding band with two awesome albums that deserved a much better fate. But Loveless is lightning in a bottle. My Bloody Valentine changed lives, whether or not the individual band members deserved that privilege.
Sometimes I wish I knew a lot less about how the music gets made, but it’s the price you pay for working in the sausage factory. Attack Kevin all you want, but leave the music alone.
Here, watch some “Only Shallow.” It makes me forget all the bad parts:
JASON & THE SCORCHERS
IRS Cutting Edge - 1984
Can someone at MTV get off their butt and start showing The Cutting Edge on VH1 Classic?
VOLCANO SUNS
“Jak”
(Boston 1985)
The endless problem: musicians are unemployable, yet punk rock seldom pays the bills.
Every town needs its own patron of the arts who’ll let the rock bands work for a living wage even if they constantly take time off to go play $50 shows in the next town.
Atlanta always had Fellini’s Pizza, where today’s lunch was often served by the guy who you saw rock the bar last night.
After Mission of Burma broke up, Peter Prescott joined legions of other musicians at the Copy Cop on Boylston Street in Boston. Musicians with restaurant jobs fed their bandmates when they could get away with it. Copy Cop was better; millions of show fliers were illicitly printed by generations of musicians who took advantage of Xerox downtime. Noisy machines weren’t really a problem: a copy shop wasn’t any louder than a rehearsal room and you could run the copiers no matter how hung over you were.
Peter was both the drummer and the front man in Volcano Suns. The lineup changed, but Peter managed to make five more albums after this one, moving from Homestead to SST to Touch & Go.
(The Bright Orange Years - Homestead Records HMS 020)
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