21 posts tagged “music”

A little Christmas cheer! This is wonderful.

Ah, it was a great mail day. I got home and there were two packages waiting for me. No, that's not unusual. I write about music, and there are almost always promo CDs waiting for me — generally ones I could care less about. Not today, though.

First off, there was the new Springsteen album. Yes, I'm a huge Springsteen fan, something I inherited from my dad — who's flying in to see Springsteen with me in November.

Then, there was the new Mekons album, Natural. The Mekons formed in Leeds in 1977, and art house punk band. They are probably my favorite band in the world. I collect their albums, and even road tripped to see their 20th anniversary show back in '97. I haven't had a chance to play it yet, but Natural has been called the best album of their career. Given their 30 year history and amazing catalog, I'm excited to hear it.

This song popped into my head, and I had to dig through a stack of CDs to rip it to my iPod. It still sounds great, but I actually listened to they lyrics for the first time.

When I'm watchin' you and Fidel Castro in the sand, kissin'!

She's comin on like a bicycle army

I'm not sure whether it's about a girl, a revolution, or really about nothing at all.

I really don't think I agree with Wikipedia, which says:

The topic of "Sister Havana" is one of jealousy over a hot Latina hooking up with, ultimately, Fidel Castro. "Sister Havana" is driving with a crunchy, sometimes muted riff and (in a throwback to the '70s they love to ape) a prominent cowbell track.

Any insights?

This song is nearly six years old now, but every time I hear it, my body stats to shudder and tears well up in my eyes. I've listened to the album version and seen it live, always the same reaction. This, in my mind, is a true gospel long in all but name. It's a profound calling out to people to come together on a deep, spiritual level — to come together and heal collective wounds — to rise out of the ashes. Of course, this song came out right after 9/11, but I believe it was written before.

I see you Mary in the garden
In the garden of a thousand sighs
There's holy pictures of our children
Dancin' in a sky filled with light
May I feel your arms around me
May I feel your blood mix with mine
A dream of life comes to me
Like a catfish dancin' on the end of the line

I've been a huge Springsteen fan since I was a kid. I think he's the last person on the lists of artists I haven't interviewed but would really, really love to. So, a new album with the E Street Band is a huge deal for me.

On August 13, 2007, I met Stan Ridgway after his show in Minneapolis. You might say this meeting was a long time coming.

 

My first encounter with Stan was back when his band Wall of Voodoo hit MTV hard with "Mexican Radio." Most people remember that song, but far too few people followed him after that. For the record, that wasn't when I became a Stan Ridgway fan. Next time I noticed Stan, he had recorded "Don't Box Me In" with Stewart Copland for the Rumble Fish soundtrack. Loved the song, but that still wasn't where I became a Stan Ridgway fan.

My real curiosity with Stan's work spiked when Rolling Stone gave a glowing review to his first solo album, The Big Heat. I don't remember what it said, but it made me want to run out and by the album. I was, however, in college at the time, so buying a record (yes, vinyl) was a sizable investment.

There was a book and record store close to the VA Tech campus called Books, Strings, and Things. I stopped in there regularly to browse. One day, The Big Heat was sitting in the front of the bin facing the door. I held it and admired it and put it back. This went on for a few days, before I actually bought it

I was floored — the stories in the lyrics, the odd chord progressions, Stan's odder voice, the cool twists to the rhythms. I was a fan.

Flash forward to 2001: My friend and colleague Chris Strouth, who was managing Stan at the time, comes up to me one day and says, "Do you know anyone who would like to write liner notes for a Stan Ridgway album." "Me," I replied. "I was hoping you'd say that," Chris says.

I  ended up writing  the liner notes for the re-issue of  Stan's Black Diamond. Even better, Stan, whose work I'd long admired, liked the notes.

Instead of recounting my thoughts on the album, I'll just cut and paste the notes:

It’s not without a certain sense of irony (and fear) that I find myself penning these liner notes. As a critic, I’ve avoided talk of Stan’s work for years, finding no words to intelligently discuss his quirky sounds, bizarre characters, or singularly peculiar voice. Other writers seem to have faced similar difficulties, bestowing upon him some of the most contrived labels in the history of rock criticism. (“Maverick art/roots-rocker” remains my personal favorite, an eloquent phrase with little to no meaning.)

After all the babble about his “noir” imagery and “sonic textures” has been set aside, one important point remains criminally overlooked: Stan is, perhaps unknowingly, part of a tradition. He is one of the last true balladeers — part of a lineage that stretches back through colonial times and across the Atlantic to the British Isles.

It could be said that balladeers are four-minute novelists or, perhaps more accurately, four-minute journalists, and I couldn’t think of better descriptions of Stan. In the span of a song, he captures the richness of a character and the essence of a situation with deceptive simplicity. In prior times, when oral tradition was the means for transmitting news and stories, that simplicity was essential. Now, it’s a lost art.

Being a character in one of Stan’s songs is a thankless job; there is no glamour for these people. They are black diamonds, though they bear little resemblance to the valuable 489.07-carat gem put up for auction in France earlier this year. They’re more like the other type of “black diamond,” coal, which fueled the industrial revolution, creating great wealth for some, black lung and poverty for others, and violence all around. They are gritty, dirty, and oddly beautiful characters. Some are historical, some fictitious, and some … well … only Stan knows.

On this disc, there’s “Wild” Bill Donovan — founder of the OSS (predecessor of the CIA) — who shaped history through such brilliant, erratic, and questionable means, that his legacy still defies decisive judgment. There’s an ex-con, a “nobody,” whose revelation, “Behind every fortune … there’s got to be a crime,” proves a turning point as irrevocable as an act of war. And there’s a moving eulogy for Tennessee Two guitarist Luther Perkins, for which Stan boldly takes on the character of Johnny Cash. Should writing and singing a song from Cash’s point of view fail under the weight of pretense? Probably, but my money says this song could even bring a tear to the eye of the Man in Black.

Stan originally released Black Diamond in 1995. It quickly fell out of print due to a series of record industry mishaps that are far-too-common, far-too-complicated, and far-too-boring to recount. This reissue would be significant if only for filling a gap in Stan’s remarkable catalog. But it does more than that — it resurrects an extraordinary cast of characters and stories, a significant treasure of black diamonds.

— Bill Snyder
Minneapolis
August 2001

Stan doesn't tour that much, and I was out of town when he came through that year. So, until a couple of weeks ago, I'd never seen him live. I'd spoken with him on the phone, but never met him. It was an amazing show. And it's always a pleasure to be able to write about art you admire.

So, before ending this post, I'll leave you with two songs: One from the album for which I wrote liner notes and the title track from the album that hooked me.

RIP and Thank You!

OK, if we can mashup music, video, and web service, why not musician names. I found a bunch of mashed up names in an old journal entry. Thought I'd share them.

The Band of Gypsy Kings
John Mayall's Moody Blues Breakers
Adam and the Alien Ant Farm
The Mother Hips of Invention
Pete Seeger and the Silver Bullet Band
Whiskeytowns Van Zandt
Camper Van Halen
The Joe Jackson Five
Great Big Flock of Seagulls
Buddy Holly Near
Tangerine Dream Syndicate
Carol Kings X
Elvis Costello & Another Road Side Attractions
The Hüsker Dübbie Brothers
Radio Hed(PE)
Pink Boy Floyd
The Crosby Still, Nash & Youngbloods
Alice Cooper in Chains
David + David Bowie
Boiled in Leadbelly
The OK Go Gos

Updates
Olivia Elton John
My Chemical Romance Brothers
The Future Sounds of London Suede
Black 47 Motorcycle Club
Steeleye Dan

My supervisor just emailed this to me. Another reason to move to Paris.

OK. This song came on a jukebox the other day, and I had to admit that I love it, even though it's soooo uncool. the staff there, all in their early 20s, loved it too, so I don't feel that uncool.

This one goes out to Kitty, because all sappy lyrics go out to Kitty.