It's the song of the day! (start your Friday off proper)

Another week in music...rhythm and noise...

No matter how often it happens it's always a tiny bit unnerving when your downstairs in the kitchen and the bedroom door slams shut upstairs. You know it's just a draft but that never stops it from feeling a tad strange. Especially when it's raining outside, your neighbour is screaming at her children through the walls, your wired on too much coffee, and frustrated by the state of things.
       It's been another week full of all kinds of news. As most weeks are. Obviously the world news has been considerably bleaker this week. The tragic events in Norway were devastating as they unfolded on television over the weekend. I don't think anyone expected it to turn out as horrifying as it did when they woke up Saturday morning.
       We went to see an Amy Winehouse tribute act Friday night and woke up Saturday to find out the real singer had died. The same media that spent the last four or five years ridiculing her and systematically tearing her name to pieces changed their tone instantly to gut wrenching sincerity and heartbreak at the tragic loss of a truly special talent. Individual people have been guilty of this too. People who viciously attacked her character for years now express their sadness at such a tragic loss of talent at such a young age. It is indeed a sad story. Back In Black was and is a fantastic record and the work of a uniquely and undeniably talented artist. I just found the hypocrisy in certain responses to the story a bit hard to swallow.
       Fortunately it's been a great week for friends and family. Celebrating new arrivals, beginning brand new journeys around the globe, making a long overdue return home. Lots of positive events happening to a lot of great people that mean everything to me. It warms my heart to hear it.
       For myself there are a few possible creative opportunities coming down the pipeline. Nothing monumental but interesting and a little exciting all the same.
      Oh and of course in the midst of all these events occurring around the globe, both tragic and wonderful, I have been listening to a lot of music. All styles and genres. Songs to match any mood. Music that forms the never ending soundtrack to my life in all it's mundane glory.
       As usual over the last week or so a handful of songs stood out. Well, a handful and a bit really. Seven, once again being the lucky number.
   
        We start once again at the beginning. I'd discovered this record while working at the illustrious Refried Beats on Yonge Street in beautiful downtown Toronto. But had sort of forgotten about it recently. Then the other day this song Science Killer came on my headphones like this sludgy rhythmic nightmare, filled my head up with euphoria and pummelled my brain into mush. I just kept turning the volume up and smiling like an asshole. The band responsible for this piece of magnificence are called The Black Angels. A psych rock band from Austin, Texas. The song can be found on their fantastic album Directions to see a Ghost.

        It's no secret I'm a huge fan of the blues. A big moment in my musical education was being introduced to the Chess label and it's unequalled stable of artists. The other day this beautiful song by Jimmy Witherspoon called Ain't Nobody's Business really stuck in my head. A mellow number about a guy contemplating breakfast and shooting his woman. Witherspoons voice is effortless and haunting. The subtle bass and piano carrying you along as his story unfolds.

       Sticking with the blues theme but adding a serious goddamn dose of psychedelia is the one and only Muddy Waters. The song is Tom Cat from his wonderfully titled 1968 album Electric Mud. A Hendrix-esque mix of blues, funk, and psychedelia, that must have ruffled the feathers of many a blues purist when it was released. Nonetheless the album was a massive influence on psychedelic bands of that time. The song is a beast that showcases the raw attitude present in all of Muddy Waters music. For me not many artists come close to the power of Muddy's music. Muddy was a baaaaad man and everyone needs to know it.

       I listen to Sonic Youth every week. My appetite never wanes. The band are true music pioneers. I got into their music fairly late when I found a cassette copy of their 1994 album Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star. Controversially the album is probably still my favourite Sonic Youth record, not necessarily because it's their best or most important, but I guess because of how it made me feel when I first listened to it. I felt like I'd just discovered alternative music. I didn't know a band could sound like that. I fell in love with them instantly. The intensity in the combination of Kim Deals vocals and Thurston Moore's guitar playing really affected me. You know when people say stuff like who needs drugs when you have music? Well that's how Sonic Youth made me feel. that's how they still make me feel. The song that came on my headphones this week wasn't from Jet Set trash though. We have to go all the way back to 1983 for this song, and the bands first studio album Confusion Is Sex/Kill Yr Idols. That early Sonic Youth sound is a world away from Jet Set. The song I'm talking about in particular is Kill Yr Idols. A ferocious two minutes of defiance and disgust. The recording is minimalist, raw and fucking perfect. But the video link I posted the song to on here isn't from the album. It's from a live show from 1985. Recorded in a small club in Brighton, England it captures the band in all their beauty. Oh to have been in that crowd.

       Funny enough the next song that caught my attention this week was a cover of a Sonic Youth song by another of the truly great rock bands of the last 25 years, Seattle's mighty Mudhoney. The song is Halloween and was featured on a split single Sonic Youth and Mudhoney released together in 1988. Mudhoney covered Halloween and Sonic Youth covered Touch me I'm Sick. The song is also featured on the deluxe edition of their seminal album Superfuzz Bigmuff.  There are few sounds more grin inducing than the production on Mudhoneys early recordings, and Halloween is no exception, featuring one of my favourite guitar riffs ever. It's a serious undertaking covering a Sonic Youth song, but I think somehow Mudhoney improved on it. The track is drenched in all that wonderful Mudhoney defiance and anger and sounds magnificent.

       We take a sharp turn away from alternative rock for the penultimate song of this past week and head to New York circa 1994 for a slice of hip hop bliss. I've been fairly obsessed with Gang Starr for a few years now. Dazzled by Guru's smooth rumbling vocals and Premier's superb understated jazz breaks and samples. This week I was passing through a park when Mostly Tha Voice came on from Gang Starr's fantastic fourth album Hard To Earn. Guru tells wannabe rappers how it is over another sweet Premier beat. Few hip hop duos made it sound as easy as Gang Starr, and the hip hop world lost a true legend when Guru passed away last year. Gang Starr are one of my main go to groups when I want to chill.

       Finally fans of mid 90's hip hop will probably recognize the opening few seconds of this last song. A driving funk track from 1967 called The Sad Chicken, recorded by Leroy & the Drivers. A serious song for walking and a mean way to start a night. I have lot 60's/70's funk and soul compilations on my itunes so periodically and randomly during my day I'll get slapped hard with a solid piece of funk like this.

   


 

It's Documentary Wednesday! This week...Beat This: Hip Hop History!

Hip Hop from Django's Ghost on Vimeo.

Brand new Bjork...

Finally, a new video clip from Bjork. Reuniting with the wonderful Michel Gondry, the two have worked together to create another visual feast. The song is an early single from Bjork's highly ambitious new multimedia music project Biophilia. The Icelandic pioneer remains light years ahead of the pack as she continues to push music and technology to unknown places.

It's the Sunday song of the day! (I'm feeling antagonistic and funky)

Partially confused ramblings on a Friday afternoon...and the song of the day...

I'm not a music expert. I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of albums, bands and singles.  I'm not really an asset to have on your team during a pub quiz. I know people like that and I've met plenty of people like that. They could tell you about West German vinyl pressings of Beatles albums, and which Stones pressings have the superior sound quality. They can name songs with a word or two from the most obscure song lyrics.
       I struggle to remember song lyrics. I don't know much about obscure vinyl pressings. I can't discuss the structure of music, of songs, in any kind of technical terminology, and I don't really play any instruments. I was gonna say I'm not an aficionado but then I looked up the definition of the word in the dictionary. Aficionado: A person who is very knowledgeable and enthusiastic about an activity, subject or pastime.
      So maybe you could say I was an aficionado. Though I'd prefer you didn't. Labels make me cringe. What kind of an asshole actually gives himself a label like that anyway?
      Problem is everything I know is based on what I like. And there's not really any rhyme or reason to what I like. I like what sounds good to me. It's all very personal, and largely related to my own individual experiences. For instance right now I'm seriously digging Mitch Ryder and Holly Golightly. Why? I don't know, I stumbled upon them again and their music matches my mood.
      I do have the enthusiasm nailed though. I know what I like and I'm enthusiastic about what I like. I guess that's the short and sweet of it. If I'm sat with you and a really great song comes on, I'm really good at obnoxiously telling you how great the song is. In simple blanket terms. If you asked me why the song is so good? I'd say something like what do you mean? Listen to that fucking guitar! Not terribly insightful, I know. An expert would explain something about what key the guitarist is playing in. Or point out a clever chord change or something along those lines.
      All I'm good at is pointing out music that interests me, and relating what it means to me. In emotional terms not technical terms. I love Pink Floyd's album Meddle because of how it feels, and how it makes me feel.
     I don't know, I'm probably being stupidly, embarrassingly obvious here. What can I say, I sat down needing to write something on here and this is what came out.
     Music affects and excites me on a primitive level. All genres, all eras. As long as there's truth in it.
     Take Joel Plaskett for instance. I'm listening to him right now. His album La Di Da. The real strength in Joel's music, of which there are many, is his voice. His voice is genuine. True.
   
      Anyway, here's my song of the day for this uncertain Friday afternoon...enjoy...

   
   

Happy Thursday morning one and all...

Sesame Street breaks it down from Wonderful Creative on Vimeo.

Primus to play Massey Hall...

Goddang, Primus are playing a show at Toronto's prestigious Massey Hall October 5th. I want to go to there.

The Show That Never Was...

You know, I once had tickets, a strip of seven or eight tickets, to a show named The Rhyme and Reason Tour. It was the summer of 1999. I don't believe I've ever been more excited buying concert tickets than I was the day I bought those tickets. The show was to take place at Molson Park in Barrie, Ontario, and the line up was as follows: Co-headlining were the Beastie Boys and Rage Against The Machine. The other artists on the bill were Busta Rhymes, At The Drive In, a hip hop group called Jurassic 5 and a little known band, led by a man named Josh Homme, called Queens of the Stone Age.
       I think this needs a little context. In the year of our lord, 1999, QOTSA hadn't even released Rated R. That album wouldn't be released until 2000. And Songs For The Deaf wouldn't be released til 2002. Jurassic 5 had only released their relatively unknown self-titled album. Quality Control wouldn't be released til 2000. Similarly At The Drive In hadn't released their seminal album Relationship Of Command. An album that funnily enough would also be released in 2000. In 1999 Busta Rhymes was still a relevant and very exciting hip hop artist, having just released in the few years prior, his critically acclaimed albums When Disaster Strikes and E.L.E(Extinction Level Event): The Final World Front.
      The Beasties had just released Hello Nasty, the disco funk breakbeat extravaganza that still holds a special place in my heart and record collection, and as for Rage Against The Machine, they had just released Battle of Los Angeles. A record that might not stand up against the first two RATM albums, but a record that packed a mean punch and a lot of great tunes all the same.
      At the time I was primarily excited about the prospect of witnessing two of my all time favourite bands share a stage under the expansive skies at Molson Park. I spent part of each day in the run up to the show looking at the tickets and talking about the sheer awesomeness that would be. Nowadays I am very familiar with the work of all the bands that were listed below the headliners, and am a huge fan of all three monumental records they released in the millennium year 2000. Imagine! Quality Control, Relationship of Command and Rated R all in one year! Holy jeebus. Imagine a gig where you would witness the Beasties and RATM share a stage, and see Queens, J-5, Busta Rhymes and At The Drive In in their absolute prime.
       Now picture Mike D. Riding his low rider bicycle through the streets of bustling downtown Manhattan. Picture Mike D falling off his low rider bicycle on the streets of bustling downtown Manhattan. Picture Mike D breaking his shoulder in the fall and as a consequence having to cancel the much anticipated Rhyme and Reason Tour. Picture me in the moments and days after hearing of this news, staring despondently at a long string of concert tickets.
      Unfortunately the tour never got back on it's feet again. And RATM broke up the following year. Fortunately the Beastie Boys had played Molson park the previous year. August 15th, 1998 to be exact. Tribe Called Quest were supposed to open for them at that gig, but get this, broke up just before the gig. But once again, all was not lost. The Diabolical Biz Markie opened in their place. Playing a selection of records, including a improvised and hilarious version of Just A Friend, that included the verses "You, you got a hair weave! But you say it's your real hair, yeah, you say it's your real hair." And "You, you got a disease, but you say it's just a rash, yeah, you say it's just a rash."
     We waited in the sun for six hours outside the gates of the main stage that day. Without much water. When the guy finally opened the gate, one single unfortunate skinny man, they were flung open and 20,000 fanatical Beastie Boy fans ran for the front of the stage like a marauding army looking for women and children. People fell, and people leaped over the fallen. My friends and I got a spot dead center in front of the stage, roughly fifty people from the front. And it was the worst crowd I've ever been in. Thousands of people surging forward, wave after wave. Drunk Americans pouring beer on girls heads. A girl next to me, panicking from the push of the crowd, was literally crouched down by my feet, crying. I had a bottle of ice tea in my back pocket and when we finally got pulled out of the crowd just before the Beasties came on it was hot to the touch.
      But we got a good view from the side and the Beastie Boys took the stage and destroyed the place. Mix Master Mike opened with a scratch mix of the intro to Tom Sawyer by Rush. The Biz Markie came on stage toward the end and sang Benny and the Jets. Mike D even got the crowd to make a tunnel and started a soul train. I remember I was suffering pretty bad from being in the sun all day, and every time I jumped up my head pounded. Still, it was a great great show. My one and only live Beastie Boys experience.
      Funny enough, just a minute ago whilst searching the interweb, I found the actual setlist from that show thirteen years ago. Here it is, in all it's magnificence:

1. 1. Mix Master Mike Intro
2. 2. The Biz Vs. The Nuge
3. 3. Super Disco Breakin'
4. 4. Sure Shot
5. 5. Skills To Pay The Bills
6. 6. Putting Shame In Your Game
7. 7. Time To Get Ill
8. 8. Sabrosa
9. 9. Tough Guy
10. 10. Transit Cop
11. 11. Remote Control
12. 12. The Move
13. 13. Flute Loop
14. 14. Egg Man
15. 15. Slow And Low
16. 16. Three Mc's And One Dj
17. 17. Ricky's Theme
18. 18. Song For The Man
19. 19. Time For Livin'
20. 20. Soba Violence
21. 21. Root Down
22. 22. Body Movin'
23. 23. Paul Revere
24. 24. Shake Your Rump
25. 25. Something's Got To Give
26. 26. Gratitude
27. 27. Heart Attack Man
28. 28. Benny And The Jets
29. 29. Do It
30. 30. So What'Cha Want
31. 31. Intergalactic
32. 32. Lighten Up
33. 33. Sabotage

The audience actually sang Paul Revere. That was a good moment. 

      I still have the ticket stubs to that Beastie Boys show hidden in a box somewhere, alongside the tickets for the Rhyme and Reason Tour. The show that wasn't meant to be. Just so you know, I've watched it in my head and in my dreams and it was glorious.

Heaven

Seven Songs...

It's Friday again(as I'm writing this), another week over. Another one of those up and down weeks full of good and bad and Brie and Salami sandwiches and music and thank Christ, sunshine. Lots of sunshine. I'm rocking a serious sandal/t shirt tan. I was in the park yesterday during my lunch break, eating a sandwich, listening to music, and saw two young topless deviants, known as chavs round these parts, drinking cider and wrestling by the hedges. It was a very homoerotic, violent Larry Clark meets George Michael meets Ken Loach type scene. Not my preferred choice of sunshine/sandwich/music/relaxing in the park entertainment. Around these parts the sunshine seems to bring the scum out like rain to worms.

Anyway, over the last week I listened to a lot of music, and particular songs stuck in my brain more than others, as particular songs have a habit of doing. Roughly seven, this time around. A song for each of the last seven days! If you wanted you could put all seven songs together in order, you know, fashion a playlist. You could give it a clever name and walk around your town picturing some fictional phantasmic week that was and never was. A week full of sandwiches and goblins and sunshine and deviants and beauty and disappointment and dogs and vampires.

We start the week at the beginning, with a cover of the Godfather Theme song by Jesus Acosta and the Professionals. A seriously heavy seriously soulful seriously dirty rendition of the iconic theme. With a killer distorted guitar riff and a organ line that sounds like it's coming from deep inside your brain. It's just the kind of late 60's/early 70's world music funk I love stumbling across. The song can be found on the wonderful compilation Cult Cargo: Belize City Boil Up, that I really couldn't recommend enough. Any volume of the Cult Cargo series is a gold mine worth owning, but Belize City especially.

Song two, Tuesdays song, is one minute of aggression from Los Angeles' volatile girl punk band Mika Miko. Now tragically disbanded. The song is End of Time from the band's Kill Rock Star's label debut C.Y.S.L.A.B.F. The girls in the band always claimed they were best appreciated live. Additionally they also make for great park walking music. If you were so inclined and had the appropriate headphones, ideally ear buds, you could do some tumbles in the grass. Maybe punch a tree. Or the air. Or a hippy.

Next is a sublime track from a soundtrack Mile Davis recorded for a French film called Ascenseur pour l'echafaud(Lift to the scoffold). The song is called L'Assassinat De Carala. I've never seen the film and in many ways am glad for that fact. The album is the very epitome of film noir. Of 50's jazz cool. And I prefer not having any associations with the film. I want to keep it as a soundtrack to my own life. The record is drenched in atmosphere. A beautiful, sinister, melancholy timeless soundtrack. It's serious, deeply affecting music, quite separate from the rest of Davis' output around this time in the late fifties to early sixties. It doesn't fit in with his earlier bebop material or his later Kind of Blue period or his ambitious and infinitely more challenging Electric material. I'm not sure how the album sits with serious Mile Davis fans, but it's one of my favourites. Simple, elegant and moving.

The next song came on my ipod when I was in Whitby with my wife. It immediately latched onto my feet and arms, making me move them in outlandish frantic weird movements. I started laughing, going oh yeah. Feel that. And other such ridiculous statements. I assumed it was something from the seventies. Something I'd managed to avoid somehow all my life. When I got home and turned on the computer, I found out the song was called Last Bongo In Brighton(Remix) by the very contemporary, very hip hop,very English DJ Format. From his debut album Music For The Mature B-Boy. Format specializes in big beats and 70's funk breaks and anyone who likes good hip hop will dig his music.

Tom Waits appears on my ipod frequently. Over the last seven days a song from his essential album Rain Dogs played several times. Rain Dogs is the middle album of a trilogy book ended by Swordfishtrombones and Frank's Wild Year's. Coincidentally it is also the first album I ever owned by Tom Waits. I bought it from the Goodwill store in Toronto, at Coxwell and Gerrard to be specific, when I was about seventeen. Vaguely familiar with Waits at the time I was sold on the intriguing album sleeve and subsequently confused, challenged, and amazed by the music on the vinyl record. I'd never heard music like it, and hadn't even been aware you could make music like that. It sounded like carnival music from a nightmare. The song Gun Street Girl appears towards the end of the record. One of the more straight forward acoustic numbers. I'd sort of forgotten about it till this week. It's a barnstormer. A fearsome piece of songwriting. That quite frankly leaves me stunned.

The hypothetical Saturday song in this fictional musical week, loosely based on my actual real life listening experiences over the past seven days comes courtesy of The Nazz. A band I got into over the last few years, they have a straight forward satisfying psych rock sound, and were formed by Todd Rungren. The song I listened to this week is called Crowded from the band's 1968 self titled record Nazz

Our final song, Sunday's song, the song for that wonderful day of rest belongs to Mr Johnny Cash. From his album Now, There Was a Song! released in 1960. The song is the rollicking I Feel Better All Over. It was actually penned by the gambler himself, Mr Kenny Rogers. A song tailor made for Sunday drives, or Sunday mornings dancing with your girl or Sunday afternoons drinking in the backyard. The music industry did it's best during the last seven or eight years to over saturate the market with Johnny Cash, and as such I had to take a step back for a short while. But his music will never die and Cash will always be in my heart, just as he should always be in yours.

Sunday Morning Music...

Few things are more enjoyable than a Sunday morning listening session. I used to sit down with my turntable and a stack of vinyl. Then when my turntable was out of commission or in another province I sat down with my cd player and my cd collection. Nowadays my stereo is in another country along with 95% of my cd collection and my turntable and my vinyl and so I'm reduced to itunes and youtube and spotify and soundcloud and other music websites and file sharing programs. Oh this modern era we live in. This brave new world. This ridiculous energy sapping brave new world. Still, by hook or by crook Sunday morning music is still Sunday morning music.
       Now while it's technically no longer Sunday morning but Sunday afternoon, this song by the legendary bluesman Son House is the very personification of Sunday morning music. A staggering defiant blues number. Just that Son House voice and handclaps.
      This is the way it is in my world. Saturday mornings are for Bad Brains. High energy, unchecked aggression. Sundays are for the Blues. And feelin' good.

It's the song of the day!(Saturday Morning Special!)

It's the song of the day!

It's the song of the day! (that Friday evening vibe)

Three songs, walking back from town...

I have an ipod shuffle, borrowed from a good friend of mine, after my beloved 80 gig classic died tragically over a year ago. It was an enlightening experience when I brought the dead ipod into the Apple shop and the dude said "oh yeah, ipods generally have a three year life expectancy. There's not much we can do for this one, but we can offer you ten percent off a brand new one."  Ten percent! Ah jeez, now I'm blushing. I can tell from the sincere tone of your voice you only make that offer to your most select clientèle. And I can tell from your personal approach and casual unassuming demeanor that I'm not only a customer but a friend, too.

Coincidentally, this was right around the time I began to think just maybe there might be something to the charge I-Pods are more style than substance. Anyway, this is all besides the point. I no longer have a fancy 80 gig classic, I have a shuffle. Which makes for a much different listening experience. A few times a week I load up a random selection of music, around 175 songs at a time. And because Shuffles have no display, and I don't have the new fancy one with the voice song identifier thing on it, I'm often not sure what I'm listening to. For a longtime I just put all the hip hop on my itunes on shuffle, hitting the shuffle button roughly 33 times for some reason, and chose the first 200 songs. Yesterday though, I put my whole itunes on shuffle, well I had to use that itunes dj thing, and I have to say if it was actually left in charge of a party, it would be responsible for a pretty cerebral, unorthodox, unpopular dance party. The majority of attendee's would not be happy. It always throws on a lot of random world music/jazz type horn and percussion, mixed with a lot of Brian Eno, old country and Autechre. I'd still dance to it, but I guess it is music from my itunes, plus I'm pretty weird.

Anyway, I was walking back from town today, badly bearded, in my brogues, with my eggs and milk, you know, like I do, and three songs especially caught my attention. Unexpectedly, even. The first was Everywhere from Fleetwood Mac's fourteenth album Tango In The Night. A song a lot of people would probably expect I enjoyed out of some kind of irony. Surprisingly though, this wasn't the case. It popped on my headphones just as the rain clouds were clearing up and raised my spirits with unusual sincerity. Especially unusual for a cynical man such as myself. What can I say I just got caught up in that ridiculous 1980's Fleetwood Mac vibe. It was fun.




Roughly thirty songs later (I do skip through periodically) after songs from the likes of The Clash, Funkadelic, Jay Crocker, Devo, Bill Cosby, and Invisibil Skratch Piklz, a fantastic song by the legendary Charles Mingus came on called Better Git It In Your Soul. The first track from his iconic album Mingus Ah Um. It starts off beautifully with this great bass line that sounds like Mingus rose up out of the ground, from beneath the studio, as he was playing it. Then it just goes into this huge blissful big band romp. Fun, exhilarating summertime music.





And finally the third song, that came on directly after Mr Charles Mingus, and I have the feeling I might get judged right about here, was You Make Me Feel Like Dancing by Leo Sayer. From his album Endless Flight, an album with a fantastic front sleeve I have to say. Though I think the version I have is from the Charlie's Angel's soundtrack that my cousin Tasha put on itunes ages ago. The vocals on this song are incredible. Superdisco. That I at first mistook for the Bee Gee's. Sayer reaches some serious high notes. The overall feel of the song is almost giddy. And I think my enjoyment of it would have swayed over into irony if it weren't for that genuinely insane bassline/ guitar combination during the versus'. That part blows my mind. Serious disco funk. And again, sunny day, Saturday night music. I guess that's the obvious theme at play here. I guess the mood can't always be life in the ghetto/ironic violence/dark beat/depressing introspection/experimental/soundscape type stuff all the time. Sometimes you just want happy music. As awful as that phrase sounds. And in the end I always feel like dancing. Oh and plus, the video for this song is fucking great. Excuse my french.





I actually had to listen to the Leo Sayer song twice.

It's the song of the day! (for Mr R.J Bradshaw)

It's the song of the day!

Happy Canada Day! Hoo! Hoo!