One is not certain how much one should trust HR from The Bad Brains in his
allegation that someone from this Austin band once hit on him, given that
Boyfriend has some mental health issues. However, I have seen their name
mentioned in several "out" lists, and I have read reviews of their concerts
mentioning their tendency to cross-dress and "act gay", so, even if it was a
case of theater or deliberate provocation (not unheard of in certain punk bands
of their era, either in writing "homophobic" songs that, in some cases, were
meant to point out the absurdity of bigotry, or in penning 'gay' anthems (cue "I
Wanna Be A Homosexual" by Screeching Weasel)), I will put them in this section.
Besides, at least one of the gentlemen in the band is muy woofy, so a Bear can
dream... It's not reflected in their lyrics, except in a sense of defending
individuality and non-conformity, however.
This music dates
from the late 70s and early 80s, and is probably the missing link between the
punk-funk of The Red Hot Chili Peppers and the skater-thrash of, well, the list
is endless. This particular compilation focuses on rarities, live tracks,
outtakes, 'zine and various artist LP appearances, so much of this is not
available on the few items in print by the group. It's a wild, funky, punky
ride, and who wouldn't wish for a boyfriend with such energy?
Deborah Cooper, Real Love CD-EP (Emerge Records, Inc., 45 Main Street, Suite 707, Brooklyn, NY, 11201, Tel 718.852.6777, Fax 718.852.8877)
The distributor of this CD put out an excellent compilation entitled BEING OUT ROCKS last year. Generally, however, it deals with dance music, which this is definitely.
The chanteuse apparently sang several songs, including "Pride (A Deeper Love)" with C&C Music Factory, for several DJs and songwriters, and has also written material and won an ASCAP award in that regard. I can honestly say I had not heard of any of the songs other than "Pride", which I only knew because I saw Aretha Franklin do the number once, but, then, my gay card has been threatened more than once for my lack of knowledge about disco and club tunes.
There are seven mixes of the same piece here, which is a very energetic and enthusiastically sung number, with a forceful delivery and message of independence. I am sure it would be very danceable and popular with club types.
However, as my divas incline more towards Yoko Ono and Diamanda Galas (love the remixes of WALKING ON THIN ICE, though…), I am not exactly in my area of expertise. Catchy, though, and driving in beat and attitude…
Ani Difranco, Evolve CD (Righteous
Babe Records, PO Box 95, Ellicott Station, Buffalo, NY, 14205, USA)
Ani continues to, well, evolve in her sound, with the bluesy and jazzy aspects
of Reckoning/Revelling being even more developed on this CD.
The songs are, generally speaking, fairly concise, arranged for horns, bass,
keyboards, guitar and drums, with Ani herself tinkling the ivories (accompanied
by free jazz horns) on "O My My", though the one exception, "Serpentine", goes
on and on without overstaying its welcome, accompanied by the thick, percussive
guitar that has been sadly rare of late in her work (though the funky staccato
rhythm guitar on several songs is a great new element)
As
to her vocals, the somewhat nasal edge of the past has largely vanished, to be
replaced by a bent (which seems appropriate), somewhat off-kilter jazz/blues
flavour.
It is also reassuring to see much firmer politics
in the lyrics again, since I personally found the defeatism in the
perhaps-ironically named Up Up Up Up Up cassette disconcerting, and it is
important in this age to have the courage of one's convictions (as last year's
live 2-CD's "Self Evident" made ever so clear). Long may she rage...
Like The Big Boys, there's no firm evidence in the lyrics of this female
ensemble that they are queer, but it is a matter of record in their case.
In any case, calling your album 'Panty Raid', and including songs like "Hey
Girl", which could be read as about a relationship with a female (not to
mention having a bass player named Mr. Nancy and including a gender-neutral
lyric in the song "My Addiction" that states that the narrator would 'wanna eat
you'), are big hints. However, this is not Tribe 8.
Musically,
it's Big Fat Wreck Chords territory - aggressive but tuneful pop punk, well
produced but not too slick. Most of the songs are about living hard and
emotional turmoil, yet it is still strangely enjoyable, which might say
something a bit troubling about my psychology. A great record to put on to work
out the kinks and rock out (as it were).
Flare, Hung CD (Le Grand Magistery, PO Box 611, Bloomfield Hills, MI, 48303, USA; band at P.O. Box 1532, Madison Square Station, New York City, New York, 10010, [email protected])
Flare is back with another album of lushly sung and orchestrated doom and depression!!
Though dear Mr. L.D. Beghtol, chief conceptualist/singer/ukulelist (word?)/etc., seems to think his work is very depressing, I find it strangely uplifting. Of course, Kafka and the Smiths have the same effect on me, so that may speak more to my pathology than to reality.
However, this record is definitely closer to rock than its predecessors, be they the full-length or the EPs, in that the material generally has a beat and an energy to the delivery often missing from what meant before (not that those works did not have a sense of rhythm or urgency - just a different kind...).
While it does begin with the chimes and murmur of 'All The Money's Gone', it then goes into the vaguely hopeful, or at least wistful, 'School of New York', launching a general theme of lust ("'Like' is a Very Strong Word"), desire (most of the tracks, really), melancholy ("If/Then", "Differently Othered") and anticipatory disillusionment ("Don't Like The Way We Live Now" (my personal favourite on the record), "Keep It To Yourself", "Once Borrowed") that runs through the release. Again, I don't find this a downer...though I do find it sad that a man as handsome as our beloved songwriter (there is a picture of him in the booklet that makes a largely married Bear such as myself consider adultery...) seems to be so crossed in love (though, as a good English major, I should separate the narrator and the author, should I not?). However, there's a little murder tossed in to leaven the darkness too (Incident at St. Anthony's Falls), so sublimation is in play. :)
All the elegant and longing vocals are supported by a bed of strings, percussion, eccentric keyboards and even some musical saws, making it a very enveloping listening experience. I suppose it would not be your thing if you find any emotion south of insane Up With Peopleism impossible to handle - but, then, I suppose you would probably not be reading this by now if that were the case, so you won't be catching that jab, will you?
This Flare burns bright, in short (I am somewhat surprised I have managed to review several releases by the band without resorting to that pun before now, actually...)!
Hidden
Cameras,(a) Ban Marriage CDEP and (b) The Smell Of Our Own CD ((a)Rough Trade Records, 66 Golborne Rd., London, W10 5PS, UK; (b) Evil Evil,
224 Queen Street West, P.O. Box 50027, Toronto, Ontario, M5V 1Z6, CANADA,[email protected])
In which Joel Gibb, the mastermind of the operation (a huge ensemble with Bob
Wiseman, formerly of Blue Rodeo, in its lineup), waxes ecstatic about cruising,
watersports, rejecting matrimony, and deviance/sodomy in general, while making
them romantic, joyful and spiritual and setting them to a semi-orchestral
arrangement.
The single contains: the title track, which is
a gleeful, danceable assault on holy union; a re-make of 'Fear of Zine Failure'
from Joel's one-man project, Ecce Homo (recently issued on Evil Evil as well);
a previously unavailable 4-track recording, 'We Oh We'; and one selection from
Ecce Homo, 'Worms Cannot Swim Nor Can They Walk'. As a sampler of the
ensemble's work, past and present, it is tasty.
The album
opens with the swooping harp, throb and trance-like vocals of 'Golden Streams',
which, together with 'The Man I Am With My Man', is the first song about piss
play that could work in a cathedral. The remake of 'A Miracle', from the first
CD, trims some reverb from the vocals, which was distracting on the original,
and adds stirring string work at its conclusion.
I am not
certain what 'The Animals of Prey' is about, but the lyrics are sexy and kinky
enough that I do not care overly, while 'Smells Like Happiness' and 'Boys of
Melody' are odes to low life and high romanticism.
'Shame'
is twisted and ironic, with its exhortations to pick up men in bars and cars
and drop the wife (and intimations of ice torture and gender transgression -
assets in my book...).
All told, the label 'gay church folk
music' seems apt, and a sinner like myself feels like getting down on his knees
and worshipping the Lord after exposure to this (I tend to call him Master,
but, hey! Same difference...).
Continuing my theme of perversity, which extends to the point that, when
someone I knew mentioned a rabbi in town who spoke in favour of same-sex marriage, I pointed out that 'Ban Marriage' was a cool new song, I heartily recommend this punky metal affair of queer defiance against both homophobia and
homoculturalism (I'm coining a word, ok? By it, I mean the whole notion of
there being A queer culture, which is both self-contained and looking outwards
for attention and acceptance. The first aspect tends to exclude those who are
more individualistic or less prone to accepting hetero standards and adapting
them, while the second exacerbates the initial problem AND tends to result in
that tiresome 'why don't you love us? We're just like you!' argument. Um, who's
"you" - who's "us" - and, no, we're not...no-one is just like anyone else...that's a circular argument, and shouldn't we be going for pink triangular ones? ;o) ).
Mr. Kim Kinakin (guitar/vocals/drums - aka Mitch Fury), Lee Hendon (drums/
vocals/guitar) and Mason Newlove (bass/vocals), the latter two of which would
be assumed (if not necessarily self-identified as) to be female, put out a
ferociously rocking exercise in both fun and politics, typified by
"Recruiting", "Peepshow Love", "Gender Bender" and the title track, and
generously throw on spoken word bonus tracks by various Vancouver underground
figures. If you miss the heyday of Tribe 8 and Huggy Bear, and are also sad
that there was never much boy-singer action in that genre (ok, Josh Plague from
Mukilteo Fairies and Behead The Prophet No Lord Shall Live - name 69 others...),
this is the shiny plastic fetish object for you.
Tone, Tone's Video VCD (Tone, Artist/Musician/Songwriter, 1-416-636-1631 (Toronto))
Whilst in Toronto for Pride at the end of June, this gentleman approached some friends and me, perhaps because one of us (Chris) was playing guitar and singing. He handed several of us a copy of his VCD (video CD, evidently).
It consists of clips of himself singing in his living room, miming playing guitar (I'm not certain if he DOES have skill at the instrument, but it is merely a prop in the video for the most part). It's fairly primitive in quality and editing (there are a few tricks, like rotating cubes and split screens here and there, but mostly just him performing in costumes ranging from a white mask and red wig to a sort of rubberman bank-robbery outfit, with stops at body paint and 'normal' clothing too).
The songs range from the intro, which I shall call 'Drugs Drugs Drugs' and is in a sort of Suicide style, with darkly deapan-delivered vocals over a minimalist electro-groove (it is reprised at the end in a highly distorted guitar driven rendition – I quite liked both...), to a prettily crooned number in the middle whose name I could not decide upon (there are no titles, sadly).
It's roughly half an hour long, and ends somewhat abruptly. However, it was kind of intriguing, considering the minimalist packaging (plastic sleeve, card tucked inside with name and phone number…), and it would be interesting to see if this fellow goes anywhere with it. I would sort of hope so - it was kind of fun in a morbid, twisted way...
In which Meg White (drums/vocals) and Jack White (guitar/piano/vocals) continue
their sloppy blues/garage worship, and get big enough to sound all Led
Zeppeliny and all.
I can't say I care for the take on "I
Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" (I'm not much of a fag, but I do love
my Dusty Springfield and, if you can't improve on her rendition, don't try...), and, while the concept of a duet with Holly Golightly on a song reminiscent of such classics as "You're The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly" is fun, the execution of "It's True That We Love One Another" falls flat.
However, the bigger sound, particularly on the drums (and Meg getting a couple
of turns at the mike, albeit on songs written by Jack), was stirring, and
"Seven Nation Army" was ferocious and, thanks to an octave divider, had a
bottom end, which, no matter how much of a fan of Beat Happening I am, is a
plus (I like bottoms...and, yes, I was going for sleazy innuendo there...)
This compilation from Voxx covers the first wave of garage revivalism from the
late 70s to the mid 80s, and features such classics as The Pandoras' take on
The Belles' "Melvin" (which was a rewrite of Them/The Shadows of Knight's
"Gloria"), The Wombats' "Bye Bye Baby" and The Crawdaddys' "There She Goes
Again"; however, there's not a stinker among them.
If you
want a snapshot of that moment in 60s punk worship, you could not do much
better.
As the psychedelic record in this ongoing series of obscure 45s from the
Sixties, it is perhaps a little more gentle than its predecessors, and is, so
far, the only edition to feature a female vocalist on a track (The Generation's
"The Children Have Your Tongue", a band I wish had recorded something else, as
it is quite haunting and penetrating).
However, it is a treat to hear all these long-lost gems of early indie culture, and A Group Called Eve's "Within A World
Of You" should have launched a career in an alternate universe. Ah, well...we
have this at least...
Back to the grunginess, mostly, though with an amusing sidetrip to The
Outsiders' "The Guy With The Long Liverpool Hair", about how the hapless
narrator cannot prove to his girlfriend that he was not with another girl, but,
rather, with a long-haired friend (oh, the possibilities for a queer reading of
this one...)
There is, in fact, a bit of goofiness to the
grunge here, though, what with The Intercoms' "Unabridged, Unadulterated,
Unextraordinary Ordinary, Mediocre, Unoriginality Blues" (a pisstake on Dylan),
and a rather deadpan take on "First I Look At The Purse" by The Gass Co.
(originally from The Contours). However, there is plenty of angst, snot and
lust here too, so do not be alarmed...
A collection of songs either
done by female bands of the 60s or sung by women, in a somewhat edgy and
'garagey' style, though the liner notes to the volume below make it clear that
this is a loose criteria, and that they are more interested in quality than
finding 'raging fuzz, inept playing and blood-curdling screams recorded in the
back of electronic repair shops by all-girl bands from the mid-60s'.
However, such outfits as The Girls and The Feebeez definitely stand up as
players on their selections, and the appearances of Cher's first recording (as
Bonnie Jo Mason with "Ringo I Love You", that failed to get airplay, partially
because people thought it was a man-to-man Beatle-lust ditty...), the marvelous
"Dragging Wagon" by The Surfer Girls, the campy "Me And My Miniskirt" by Minnie
& The Kneebones and The GTOs' deadpan "Love On An 11-Year-Old Level" are
more than welcome. Fun...
This volume is the most rocking in the
series so far. Clair Lane bellows and swings the old chestnut "Frankie And
Johnny" (and apparently produced it!); The Beas' "International Girl" travels
around the world in a funky stomp; The Liverbirds rock "Shop Around" and "Its
Got To Be You" in a Beatles style (they sang in low voices and wore wigs akin
to their more famous fellow townies); The Joy Sisters actually kick up the fuzz
on "Dear John"; The Pleetas melancholy-blues-rock "The Wind Blows Hard"
and Die Sweetles force the boys to sing stupid nonsense syllables on their "Die Schule
Ist Aus". The B-side is a little softer, but still catchy.
Mercury Boy, Get It Goin' CDEP (Jafzi Records, P.O. Box 9, Cooper Station, New York, NY, 10276-0009)
One review I read about this release/artist described it as cartoony. For the most part, I think that was intended as a compliment. I would certainly consider it to be one, as I happen to like animated films.
The band (Nick Terzi, vocals/songwriting; Andee Hinds, guitar; John Clancy, drums; Hannah Head, bass) does bright glammy-metal pop, dominated by simple but propulsive drums and fuzzy power chords, just lightly dusted with camp, like Gary Numan meets Motley Crue or Bryan Ferry fronting a mathrock outfit.
I'm particularly fond of 'Keep It Real' , with its swelling harmonies and sardonic edge, and 'It's All Trash', for much the same reason (though the latter has a catchier tune), but the other two songs ('Bus Driver' and 'Cyberjunkie') are also entertaining. In fact, I hope to hear more from this act, at greater length, in the future...it was fun AND rocking, and the two so rarely coincide these days... :)
V.A.,
Trash Box 5-CD (Hit
Records/Music Media Manufacturers UK Ltd., Unit F11D Parkhall Trading
Estate, 40 Martell Road, Dulwich, London SE21 8EN, UK)
It's
5 CDs of material originally released on the Pebbles compilations in the late
70s and early 80s, and ranges from the relatively well known artists (though
usually with obscure material, such as The Shadows of Knight's "Potato Chip" or
Kim Fowley's "The Trip") to all but unknowns found on acetates at garage sales.
The packaging is very colorful, to the point of making reading difficult at
points, and the liner notes could have done with a spot of updating (The
Electric Prunes are hardly obscure or difficult to find information on now) and
proofreading, but, again, you need this for the SONGS, of which there are a TON
- not for the academic commentary.
Blast The Past At 11
Honeycombs,
Have I The Right - The Very Best Of CD (EMI UK)
As I said to
a co-worker: 'Yes, they DID do more than "Have I The Right?"'. In fact, this
ensemble made quite a few recordings and singles in their roughly 4 years of
existence, many with Joe Meek, the faggot equivalent to Phil Spector (ed. note: in light of recent events, it is clear that they have several connections separate from their production styles; to wit, murder and not liking women very much (though Meek at least killed HIMSELF as well...)).
In fact, the B-side of "Have I The Right?" (another fellow slave loaned me her
copy of the single), was a ferocious rocker, "I Can't Stop", that featured the
heavy rolls of Honey Lantree, the band's female drummer, surely one of the very
first in the pop charts (unless you count Carole King's timpani playing on
"Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?"). Sadly, a later re-recording of it that was
done for an A-side is on here instead, and it is much more subdued.
The band recorded several other worthy ditties, such as "Something Better
Beginning", which I cannot help but feel must have been heard by Bryan Ferry
(its overripe camp vocalization just sounds like an obvious influence), and the
creepy "Colour Slide" (in which the narrator has large pictures and slides of
the object of his affection 'captured' on his wall). Honey had a vocal turn on
"That's The Way", which demonstrated that percussion was her forte.
Highly
produced pop, with a warbling vocal style later to be heard from Ferry and
Feargal Sharkey. Certainly not earth-shattering, and not a terribly organic
band (it had no hand in writing its material), but very stylish and enjoyable.
Shangri-las,
Myrmidons of Melodrama CD (RPM; Cherry Red Records, Unit 17 Elysium Gate West, 126-128 New Kings Road, London, SW6 4L2, UK)
Yes, I'm a faggot. This has been established. I like over-the-top tragic pop, and have a 3-CD set of girl group classics in my collection. Give it up? At the risk of quoting
Charlton Heston: "From my cold, dead hands!"
You don't get
more melodramatic and kitschy than The Shangri-las, but you also get great
performances, inventive production and undying epics of teen angst, death,
morality (with a wonderful lack of consistency - on the one hand, parents
should feel guilty because eloping children are too tear-blinded to read a
detour sign ("Give Us Your Blessing"); on the other hand, a girl's running away
leads to her mother's death directly and an endless life of regret and solitude
("I Can Never Go Home Anymore")) and lust.
Furthermore,
this collection comes complete with unintentionally hilarious tips on dating
and makeup recorded for PSAs at the time, and has just about every recording
the girls made. Get it and mope...
And the kitsch fest continues, with a compilation of tracks that were created
because of people writing in to 'Turn your poems into music' services prevalent
in the 60s and 70s (I remember their ads in comic books at the time).
The highlights of this somewhat alarming collection include: the gloriously
deadpan ode to "Richard Nixon"; the bizarre "I'm Just The Other Woman" (mostly
odd because it is NOT a woman singing it); the sickeningly schmaltzy "Little
Rug Bug"; the perhaps unintentionally queer/deviant "How Long Are You Staying?"
(did the author even think about the filthy implications of talking about
bringing Crisco to 'Frisco in order to disco, or was she just looking for a
rhyme? (yes, to maximize the creepiness, the names of the would-be poets ARE
known to posterity...)); the metrically stumblefooted "The Moon Men"; an ode to
masturbation entitled "All You Need Is A Fertile Mind"; a strangely funky ode
to the "City's Hospital Patients"; and, of course, a selection that was
deliberately submitted to see what they would take, "Blind Man's Penis (Peace
and Love)", by punk poet John Trubee.
Evidently, such
services still exist, but it would take a great deal to outdo these geniuses of
grotesquerie.
The melancholy and strange sounds of Amy Linton and crew have returned to haunt
us again. Even when there is a fuzz-tone on and a head of steam, her style is
detached and difficult to follow (and hear - she records on an eight-track
recorder in her garage, and seems to be constitutionally averse to placing her
delicate yet determined vocals higher in the mix).
As a
result, the lyric sheet definitely helps, especially on "Mission Bells", a
gorgeous piece about homelessness and hypocrisy, or "Catherine Says", which is
sparse and pretty and almost allows what seems to be suicide or murder to slip
past the listener's ear.
On the plus side, it does mean she
can actually sing 'fuck' and 'ass' without the Parents Music Advisory Committee
noticing (not that a record with such a pleasant-looking cover is likely to
catch their eye - on which point, it is printed on very thick cardboard in the
old fashioned style of LP sleeves, which is why it took longer for the vinyl
version to appear - it was hard to find anyone who printed on that material
anymore...).
Fuzzy guitar - simple, pounding drums - piano -
organ - trumpet - a busy, yet simultaneously minimal, soundscape, against which
tales of degradation are played out. Who needs death metal when you have folky
pop with an eye on both the 60s AND The Jesus and Mary Chain?
Dub - pop - experimental
classical/ambient stuff- as might be expected from a band made up of members of
Do Make Say Think, which specializes in instrumental material blurring lines
between funk, post-rock and oddity.
My favorite selection
would be "I'm Still Your Fag", which is a jazzy ode to humiliation and watersports that is made compelling by the fact that the singer/narrator sounds stunned and embarrassed by what he is vocalizing, murmuring the lyrics so softly that I can
scarcely hear (though this may be because of my goal to have tinnitus like my
idols Roger Miller (the one from Mission of Burma (shouldn't they change their
name to Mission of Myanmar? It would be historically accurate AND
alliterative...), not the "King of The Road" guy!), Bob Mould and Pete Townsend). What can I say? The scenario appeals to the sadist/top in me - as does this nifty, quiet-time release.
Thanks to artists such as Bela and Flare, I have come to associate Mother West with melancholy pop touched by orchestral elements.
While this applies to some extent here, Earlymay (Brad Peterson, vocals/guitars/tambourine; Vis Crockett, guitars/optigan/e-bow; Scott Peterson, bass/backing vocals and Robby Vansaders, drums) rocks more (albeit not in a Nickelback way, for which small mercies...) and has a gutsier vocal style (with hints of Greg Keelor from Canada's Blue Rodeo (though I suspect this is my 'nucky ears at work, and that they have never heard him), Steve Kilbey from The Church and maybe even Bryan Ferry from when he rocked and emoted more clearly).
There is an extensive use of both extended and delayed electric guitar lines, and gently galloping (quickly cantering?) drums, though acoustic guitar drives several numbers, such as "What You Wanted".
Here and there, the carefully arranged music is reminiscent of Television, and the combination of plainly spoken and somewhat poetic imagery also calls that outfit to mind. Again, I could be way out in left field...
Many of the tracks begin very quietly and minimally, and gradually build, a good case in point being "Come Around", with its lovely darkness, the minimal piano chordings of producer Charles Newman, and the broad, slightly raspy crooning by Brad all leading to a very affecting song which is only given more tasty icing by the strings. It reminded me of Tindersticks, but who knows if that's on their turntables either?
Rootsy, yet not twanging; crooned, but not easy listening; often pushed forward by acoustic guitars, yet not folky or coffeehouse fare. In short, an intrigiuing, tuneful, moody puzzle, well worth the solving or the effort in that direction.
As you might guess from the title, the artists are from Freedom, er, France. It would mean something like 'the thermal balance of an igloo in the melting stage.'. The lead track on the album is called 'Prelude a l'apres-midi d'un matelas sans ressort' - which sounds quite elegant for all that it means 'Prelude to the afternoon of a mattress without springiness.'
Like their countryman of a similar name (Mr. Jean-Michel Jarre), they deal in a drifting electronic music that also is reminiscent of Tangerine Dream (though M. Berthelot's pieces, such as 'Oscillo-structure en equilibre incertain (Oscillating Structure in uncertain balance) are a little more unsettled and dissonant, while M. Saccomani's selections (he has 4, to his colleague's 3) are a smidgen more hooky and catchy).
The cover art would appear to be by a child (it is attributed to a Helena Berthelot, who may be a daughter or wife or perhaps even sister from childhood...), though I could be wrong - it is several cows and suns and clouds. At the moment, at least in Canada, a cow is not a particularly soothing concept - but this CD certainly is. Very relaxing and subtle.
Suicide,
American Supreme 2-CD (Mute(limited edition with live bonus disc))
Ten years after their last release, Alan Vega (vocals) and Martin Rev
(instruments) remind us who put the clash in electroclash 30 years ago, with an
album inspired by events in New York on and around September 11, 2001.
Musically, it is sparse, as their material has always been, though the drum
programming is more lively and varied than some recordings in the past. There
are few bands as good as they are at creating an oppressive mood out of one
chord, a pulse equal parts Kraftwerk and Velvet Underground, and
Elvis-Presley-in-hell vocalizing (if that sounds unpleasant, I add: (a) this is
meant to evoke terror, shock and helplessness; (b) you would prefer something
bland or sappy?; and (c) it's important to feel and express, in a world intent
on hollow patriotism and 'loyalty').
The liner notes are as
compelling as the record, with meditations on fame, pop and so much more,
including the observation that pop is a failure. No fear of loss on this
release, then.
The bonus disc is a 7 song, 70 minute
concert dating from four years earlier, and must have been on a night when the
band was feeling generous. This is a group that, when it opened for Elvis
Costello, whipped a crowd into a frenzy that destroyed the venue; to hear Alan
say 'hello' and 'you can dance if you like' is, by this crew's standards, a
'Hello, Cleveland! Are you ready to rock!!??' moment (though it should be added
that it is not said with enthusiasm - Alan is a deadpan kind of fellow).
In which our narrator rocks the bejesus out of two sets, some six months apart in 2000,consisting of a few Velvet Underground classics (he was John Cale's replacement in that band) and his own stuff. He had not been on stage for over twenty years at this point, and he is a little rusty, but his voice is still strong, and,even if he puts Jack and Jane into 'gender appropriate' clothes in "Sweet Jane" by mistake, he still gives a compelling performance with an astonishing, sloppy band (the wild swirl of "What Goes On" from the first half of the CD gives me goosebumps).
Doug has been characterized as the Yoko in the Velvet Underground dissolution
tale; like that other group, a manager with ulterior motives had something to
do with it as well, and I happen to like Yoko - and I like Doug too, especially
his new originals, which are from a concept-album-in-progress about a family in
prehistory (now THAT's a back-story!). I hope to some day see a studio release
of this material, and a little more respect to the guy too!
