I wrote these notes in order. I posted them in order. Which means that you get to read them backwards. Which also means that some of the references are only going to become clear as you move towards track one. If I were a gambling man I'd bet there was a way to flip the whole thing around. But I'm not a gambling man, so if you want to experience these notes properly, you have to go to the bottom and work your way up. As a treat for you bottom feeders, there is a picture of my dogs Stanley and Otto, as well as a picture of the world's smallest horse.
PRTFO!
Track 19
Interview with The Howlin' Wolf
From Screamin' and Hollerin' the Blues: The Worlds of Charley Patton (Revenant/2001)
In this brief interview from disc 7 of the amazing Charlie Patton box set, The Wolf describes a pure utopian vision: A young man is out working the fields one day and has a chance encounter with genius (that would be Charley Patton). He gets bit by the music bug, hits the road, hones his craft, finds love, heartbreak and acceptance. Most importantly, he taps into his own genius. Or more importantly still, he gets the hell off the plantation, for God’s sake. He remembers the exact day he got his first guitar, too, which isn’t that unusual now that I've thought about it a little. The Wolf’s voice is about 30 times cooler than Stuart A. Staple’s voice, and that isn’t meant to be a knock on Staples at all. If I had 80 minutes of Wolf interview this could have been an entirely different CD.
Track 18
Pound It On Down by Greg Brown
From The Evening Call (Red House/2006)
“I’m all through traveling, home’s where your hat is
I ain’t got no hat and I ain’t got no boss”
Feeling kind of lazy at this point.
From The Evening Call (Red House/2006)
“I’m all through traveling, home’s where your hat is
I ain’t got no hat and I ain’t got no boss”
Feeling kind of lazy at this point.
Track 17
Mountain Side by Chris Whitley & The Bastard Club
From Reiter In (Red Parlor/2006)
Recorded a few months before he died of lung cancer in 2005, Reiter In amounts to perhaps Whitley’s last release of new material. Mostly covers - “Mountain Side” is a Flaming Lips tune - (and don’t ask me why Whitley’s use of covers is infinitely more acceptable than Scott Miller’s, all right?), it rocks harder and looser than anything he’s released since Din Of Ecstasy. It’s not his best, but I’ll take what I can get.
From Reiter In (Red Parlor/2006)
Recorded a few months before he died of lung cancer in 2005, Reiter In amounts to perhaps Whitley’s last release of new material. Mostly covers - “Mountain Side” is a Flaming Lips tune - (and don’t ask me why Whitley’s use of covers is infinitely more acceptable than Scott Miller’s, all right?), it rocks harder and looser than anything he’s released since Din Of Ecstasy. It’s not his best, but I’ll take what I can get.
Track 16
Gravity’s Gone by Drive-by Truckers
From A Blessing & A Curse (New West/2006)
Ho-hum. Another year, another fine album by the best band saddled with a stupid name that probably keeps fans of – sniff - serious rock and roll away in droves. Your loss, you cultural elitists, not mine. We finally managed to see them live this past October at Detroit’s Majestic Theater and I must say: THEY KICKED MY FUCKING ASS. This was no doubt the best rock and roll show I’ve seen in years (great Detroit writer Elmore “Dutch” Leonard was there, I’m sure he would agree), not to mention the smokiest. In fact, the band used a smoke machine that I am pretty sure was fueled by cartons of Marlboro Reds rather than dry ice. Six or seven years since that Yo La Tengo/Lambchop show (see: track 7) and not one employee at the Majestic knows how to turn on the damn fans! It was pretty disgusting in there but a small price to pay for having your world rocked. Thanks, DBT. I damn sure needed that.
From A Blessing & A Curse (New West/2006)
Ho-hum. Another year, another fine album by the best band saddled with a stupid name that probably keeps fans of – sniff - serious rock and roll away in droves. Your loss, you cultural elitists, not mine. We finally managed to see them live this past October at Detroit’s Majestic Theater and I must say: THEY KICKED MY FUCKING ASS. This was no doubt the best rock and roll show I’ve seen in years (great Detroit writer Elmore “Dutch” Leonard was there, I’m sure he would agree), not to mention the smokiest. In fact, the band used a smoke machine that I am pretty sure was fueled by cartons of Marlboro Reds rather than dry ice. Six or seven years since that Yo La Tengo/Lambchop show (see: track 7) and not one employee at the Majestic knows how to turn on the damn fans! It was pretty disgusting in there but a small price to pay for having your world rocked. Thanks, DBT. I damn sure needed that.
Track 15
Bonnie Brae by The Twilgiht Singers
From Powder Burns (One Little Indian/2006)
If I had to describe the music of Greg Dulli’s Twilight Singers or his previous group, the Afghan Whigs in two words, and I guess I do, I’d say “slinky bombast”. And it isn’t as if the two bands sound that much alike. Its just a thing that Dulli does, some essential attitude that he brings to the table that is unlike anybody else. Maybe they sound like the result of a one off by Prince and Soundgarden. He’s got great rock and soul instincts, some artistic as well as personal self-control issues and a filmic sort of hand. Mean, nasty and mannered at the same time, ultimately its just really good rock and roll.
Track 14
The Heart Bionic by Bobby Bare Jr's Young Criminals Starvation League
From The Longest Meow (Bloodshot/2006)
This is a silly song on a so-so record but I still kind of dig it.
From The Longest Meow (Bloodshot/2006)
This is a silly song on a so-so record but I still kind of dig it.
Track 13
Fire Island, AK by The Long Winters
From Putting The Days To Bed (Barsuk/2006)
Almost every song on PTDTB is so great and catchy that it was hard to pick just one. Like it would almost be better to pick none at all, just to prove my point. (That notion might help you understand my life in a nutshell.) In the end it was the cryptic mystery on Fire Island, and John Roderick’s tunefully bellowed background vocals that won the day. Maybe my favorite record of the year.
Track 12
Shopping Trolley by Beth Orton
From Comfort of Strangers (Astralwerks/2006)
There were a few more songs I could have included from COS if I wanted to get carried away, but this one was my top dog favorite. I had originally intended to end Slinky Bombast with it – mostly because of its lovely tone of optimism in the face of a really lousy day - but in the rock/paper/scissors world of mix tape track ordering, The Howling Wolf trumps the willowy English singer-songwriter ten times out of ten.
From Comfort of Strangers (Astralwerks/2006)
There were a few more songs I could have included from COS if I wanted to get carried away, but this one was my top dog favorite. I had originally intended to end Slinky Bombast with it – mostly because of its lovely tone of optimism in the face of a really lousy day - but in the rock/paper/scissors world of mix tape track ordering, The Howling Wolf trumps the willowy English singer-songwriter ten times out of ten.
Track 11
Liar by Built To Spill
From You In Reverse (Warner Brothers/2006)
Back when I was a manager at the Arborland Borders, a music staff member named Forest used to play BTS on the overhead sound system in the music department what seemed like all the time. While I did register how frequently he played them, I never really picked up on the music, especially since I never heard any complaints from customers or other staff members. A short time later, while working as an assistant buyer at the home office, I happened on a promotional copy of their live cd. Remembering Forest’s love for the band, I grabbed it and gave it a listen. Actually, I gave it many listens. I was hooked about halfway through track one. Never mind that singar/axeman Brett Martsch has one of those high whiny voices (the fact of the matter is that I seem to be drawn to that sort of just-barely-in-tune guy-warble; see: Loud Family), the band rocked. Martsch’s guitar playing is sinewy and athletic without being guitar god stoopid, and their drummer, Scott Plouf, formerly of the late great Spinanes, pounded those skins into abject submission. Ignore the fact that their songs can stretch into 8-minute territory. The band stays tight and the tunes always have that pop-thing to them. If they do wank a little, they rarely seem to do it just for the sake of wanking (though God knows there’s nothing wrong with that if you can pull it off).
When I think about it now, the only music playing on those sound systems I spent so many years walking under that really ever registered with me sucked. It’s a wonder I lasted as long as I did.
From You In Reverse (Warner Brothers/2006)
Back when I was a manager at the Arborland Borders, a music staff member named Forest used to play BTS on the overhead sound system in the music department what seemed like all the time. While I did register how frequently he played them, I never really picked up on the music, especially since I never heard any complaints from customers or other staff members. A short time later, while working as an assistant buyer at the home office, I happened on a promotional copy of their live cd. Remembering Forest’s love for the band, I grabbed it and gave it a listen. Actually, I gave it many listens. I was hooked about halfway through track one. Never mind that singar/axeman Brett Martsch has one of those high whiny voices (the fact of the matter is that I seem to be drawn to that sort of just-barely-in-tune guy-warble; see: Loud Family), the band rocked. Martsch’s guitar playing is sinewy and athletic without being guitar god stoopid, and their drummer, Scott Plouf, formerly of the late great Spinanes, pounded those skins into abject submission. Ignore the fact that their songs can stretch into 8-minute territory. The band stays tight and the tunes always have that pop-thing to them. If they do wank a little, they rarely seem to do it just for the sake of wanking (though God knows there’s nothing wrong with that if you can pull it off).
When I think about it now, the only music playing on those sound systems I spent so many years walking under that really ever registered with me sucked. It’s a wonder I lasted as long as I did.
Track 10
Song About “Rocks Off” by Loud Family With Anton Barbeau
From What If It Works? (123 Records/2006)
I’ve been a devoted follower of Scott Miller’s Beatles/Beach Boys/Rundgren influenced smarty-pants power pop since his day leading college rock (remember that term?) outfit Game Theory in the mid 80’s. GT sort of morphed into The Loud Family in the early 90’s and soldiered on, releasing five good to great studio albums and one EP and going through more line-up changes than the Detroit Lions go through head coaches (or quarterbacks or penaly flags or...) until they finally dissolved for good sometime after releasing Attractive Nuisance to a music consuming public obsessed with cock rock, hip hop and belly buttons in 2000. Loud Family: R.I.P. Or so I thought.
A few years later, I was at the band’s website (www.loudfamily.com), reading the delightfully high-browed “Ask Scott” column and hoping for the good word while never expecting to actually see it when I was tickled to read that Scott was working on a new record. Fantastic!
A few years later still and WIIW is finally done, ready to be served up to – what else is new - a mostly indifferent public. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing this time around. WIIW just isn’t that good. I was under whelmed. Disappointed. Saddened, even. I mean, I go back over 20 years with the dude! Sharing billing and songwriting duties with this Anton Barbeau fellow is bad enough when all I want is Scott. Then there are three covers (the Stones “Rocks Off” is one of them, naturally, an seems odd choice of a cover for sure, though it is actually pretty cool to hear Scott wrap his so called - by him - “miserable whine” of a voice around the Jagger lead). In the final accounting, only four of the twelve songs were written by Scott and Scott alone, and while all of them are pretty good to very good, none of them are revelatory. I need revelatory, dammit!
Keep at it Scott, I’ll stick with you no matter what you do, but I hope next time you’ll stay in the woodshed until those pop gems are polished by your hand and your hand only. I’m including “Song About ‘Rocks Off’” here because it is a pretty solid representation of a stellar Scott Miller tune, all literate wordplay, yummy hooks and harmonies teetering on the cliff edge of disintegration without ever taking the plunge.
Sometimes you’ve gotta take what you can get.
From What If It Works? (123 Records/2006)
I’ve been a devoted follower of Scott Miller’s Beatles/Beach Boys/Rundgren influenced smarty-pants power pop since his day leading college rock (remember that term?) outfit Game Theory in the mid 80’s. GT sort of morphed into The Loud Family in the early 90’s and soldiered on, releasing five good to great studio albums and one EP and going through more line-up changes than the Detroit Lions go through head coaches (or quarterbacks or penaly flags or...) until they finally dissolved for good sometime after releasing Attractive Nuisance to a music consuming public obsessed with cock rock, hip hop and belly buttons in 2000. Loud Family: R.I.P. Or so I thought.
A few years later, I was at the band’s website (www.loudfamily.com), reading the delightfully high-browed “Ask Scott” column and hoping for the good word while never expecting to actually see it when I was tickled to read that Scott was working on a new record. Fantastic!
A few years later still and WIIW is finally done, ready to be served up to – what else is new - a mostly indifferent public. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing this time around. WIIW just isn’t that good. I was under whelmed. Disappointed. Saddened, even. I mean, I go back over 20 years with the dude! Sharing billing and songwriting duties with this Anton Barbeau fellow is bad enough when all I want is Scott. Then there are three covers (the Stones “Rocks Off” is one of them, naturally, an seems odd choice of a cover for sure, though it is actually pretty cool to hear Scott wrap his so called - by him - “miserable whine” of a voice around the Jagger lead). In the final accounting, only four of the twelve songs were written by Scott and Scott alone, and while all of them are pretty good to very good, none of them are revelatory. I need revelatory, dammit!
Keep at it Scott, I’ll stick with you no matter what you do, but I hope next time you’ll stay in the woodshed until those pop gems are polished by your hand and your hand only. I’m including “Song About ‘Rocks Off’” here because it is a pretty solid representation of a stellar Scott Miller tune, all literate wordplay, yummy hooks and harmonies teetering on the cliff edge of disintegration without ever taking the plunge.
Sometimes you’ve gotta take what you can get.
Track 9
Heartlandtruckstop by Beth Orton
From Comfort of Strangers (2006)
I have never really been much of a Beth Orton fan. There were songs that I liked (“You Don’t Need a Reason” from Trailer Park was perhaps my favorite) and parts of songs that were nice, but in general I couldn’t get too excited about her half-digital half-folk chick thing. On COS, more than ably produced by Jim O’Rourke (Wilco, among others), Orton leads a tight little combo (often just Orton and a rhythm section) through short and bouncy pop-like tunes with the occasional brutal confession, like:
From Comfort of Strangers (2006)
I have never really been much of a Beth Orton fan. There were songs that I liked (“You Don’t Need a Reason” from Trailer Park was perhaps my favorite) and parts of songs that were nice, but in general I couldn’t get too excited about her half-digital half-folk chick thing. On COS, more than ably produced by Jim O’Rourke (Wilco, among others), Orton leads a tight little combo (often just Orton and a rhythm section) through short and bouncy pop-like tunes with the occasional brutal confession, like:
See I wanted to give but I just couldn't take itI wanted to love but I turned around and hated it
One of the thing I always did like about Orton is that she could deliver such heavy sentiments but her odd, semi-fragile voice carried an undercurrent of hope. Its the same on COS and more; with such sympathetic collaborators she's made her best music yet.
Track 8
Which Way The Wind by Stuart A. Staple
From Leaving Songs (Beggars Banquet/2006)
Stuart A. Staples is the singer for one of my favorite bands of the last 10 years, Tindersticks. This is from his second solo record, which is not quite great - maybe just quite good, if not surprising - but will do for now. I dig the rolling gait vibe of this tune, and Staples voice is as ever, lazy, anguished and super cool. Which Way is sort of like a bitter and suave hipster’s version of Petula Clark’s “Downtown", only without the town, just the down.
Track 7
Prepared (2) by Lambchop
From Damaged (Merge/2006)
I know it comes only a third of a way through this CD, but Prepared (2) sounds like the centerpiece of Slinky Bombast. For one thing, the tune is complex and beautiful, all tinkling piano and strings. Also, Kurt Wagner’s vocal performance hits all the right emotional notes, there’s a controlled hurt in his voice that serves his words perfectly. I think that some of Lambchop’s songs are so literal that they become abstract, but the best of them, like Is A Woman’s “The New Cob Web Summer” and “Prepared (2)” I just get. They’re both bathed in that golden-hour dying sunlight, warm and just about gone. No matter who you may be with, that light is a really lonely light.
Funny Lambchop story: About six or seven years back, I went to see Yo La Tengo at Detroit’s Majestic Theater. It was summer, or that’s how I remember it, because the placed was packed and hotter than shit. The Majestic has fans mounted on its crumbling walls and ceiling but apparently they’re just for decoration, because the air wasn't moving at all. This was back in the days when I still went to shows early, staked a spot in the front and fought hard to hold my ground. Since then, I have sort of slinked my way to the back of the house. Anyway, up to this point, I hadn’t heard a note of Lambchop. I had no idea.
Singer and principle songwriter Wagner walks out, guitar in hand, with the rest of his 13-member band and take a seat front and center. He sat for the whole show and this pissed me off to no end. I'm standing, packed in my own oil in that heat like an upright sardine. What the hell! I mean, o.k. they’re not really a rock and roll band but come on! Stand up, man! I didn’t like them at the time, mostly because of Wagner’s insistence on sitting the length of the concert. I realize now that it sounds kind of ridiculous, but there was just no way going to hear them in a way that would allow me to enjoy their performance. I could not get past his sitting. I thought it was some sort of arty-farty affectation. I learned later that Wagner laid flooring – linoleum, carpet, whatever – for a living, and after years of crawling around on the ground his knees were just about pooched. Standing up for any extended period of time was out of the question. I myself knew of a couple of men with the same problem from my contracting days. I like them now, Lambchop. The floor guys were nice enough, too.
From Damaged (Merge/2006)
I know it comes only a third of a way through this CD, but Prepared (2) sounds like the centerpiece of Slinky Bombast. For one thing, the tune is complex and beautiful, all tinkling piano and strings. Also, Kurt Wagner’s vocal performance hits all the right emotional notes, there’s a controlled hurt in his voice that serves his words perfectly. I think that some of Lambchop’s songs are so literal that they become abstract, but the best of them, like Is A Woman’s “The New Cob Web Summer” and “Prepared (2)” I just get. They’re both bathed in that golden-hour dying sunlight, warm and just about gone. No matter who you may be with, that light is a really lonely light.
Funny Lambchop story: About six or seven years back, I went to see Yo La Tengo at Detroit’s Majestic Theater. It was summer, or that’s how I remember it, because the placed was packed and hotter than shit. The Majestic has fans mounted on its crumbling walls and ceiling but apparently they’re just for decoration, because the air wasn't moving at all. This was back in the days when I still went to shows early, staked a spot in the front and fought hard to hold my ground. Since then, I have sort of slinked my way to the back of the house. Anyway, up to this point, I hadn’t heard a note of Lambchop. I had no idea.
Singer and principle songwriter Wagner walks out, guitar in hand, with the rest of his 13-member band and take a seat front and center. He sat for the whole show and this pissed me off to no end. I'm standing, packed in my own oil in that heat like an upright sardine. What the hell! I mean, o.k. they’re not really a rock and roll band but come on! Stand up, man! I didn’t like them at the time, mostly because of Wagner’s insistence on sitting the length of the concert. I realize now that it sounds kind of ridiculous, but there was just no way going to hear them in a way that would allow me to enjoy their performance. I could not get past his sitting. I thought it was some sort of arty-farty affectation. I learned later that Wagner laid flooring – linoleum, carpet, whatever – for a living, and after years of crawling around on the ground his knees were just about pooched. Standing up for any extended period of time was out of the question. I myself knew of a couple of men with the same problem from my contracting days. I like them now, Lambchop. The floor guys were nice enough, too.
In addition to bad knees, I just read that Wagner recently had to face down prostate cancer in addition to having major surgery done on his jaw (that's his x-ray on the CD sleeve, apparently).
Track 6
Coneville Slough by Greg BrownFrom The Evening Call (Red House/2006)
Coneville seems to deal with the feelings of a man looking back on a great love, and that love might be long gone or standing right in his blind spot, only changed so completely that what he see's in his rearview is only recognized by the small, warm stone it has left in his heart. It is such a wistful tune, well-served by Brown's rocky bottom voice. Like Black Cadillac, The Evening Call is a confident, career-defining album. Brown is a veteran who has gotten much better with age, or anyway, as I get older, his songs better inhabit my crotchety sonic world. I realize that Brown is kind of a folky, and the idea of folk frightens a lot of people away, but Brown is the best kind of folky; in addition to all the usual songs about the old homestead and grandma and fly fishing, he can be angry, horny, frustrated and occasionally funny (but not “funny”).
Track 5
Black Cadillac by Roseanne Cash
From Black Cadillac (2006)
I was completely taken aback by the naked grief Cash displays in Black Cadillac. In the space of two years, she lost her mother, father and stepmother. Many other musicians have addressed their musical tragedies in fundamentally similar ways. Usually what we end up with, though, is “Tears In Heaven”, a song that seems to have been created out of respect or obligation or commerce and not the sort of desperate sadness this track conjures. Not to judge Clapton's grief at the loss of his son, but as a songwriter he's fair game, and in "Tears" he fails to do real grief justice. Cash’s grief feels so real that she easily pulls off a hoary cliche like “it’s a black heart of pain that I’m wearing” with aplomb. The bassline give the song a sense of pride and strength and the horn solo references June's "Ring of Fire". The overall effect is chilling.
From Black Cadillac (2006)
I was completely taken aback by the naked grief Cash displays in Black Cadillac. In the space of two years, she lost her mother, father and stepmother. Many other musicians have addressed their musical tragedies in fundamentally similar ways. Usually what we end up with, though, is “Tears In Heaven”, a song that seems to have been created out of respect or obligation or commerce and not the sort of desperate sadness this track conjures. Not to judge Clapton's grief at the loss of his son, but as a songwriter he's fair game, and in "Tears" he fails to do real grief justice. Cash’s grief feels so real that she easily pulls off a hoary cliche like “it’s a black heart of pain that I’m wearing” with aplomb. The bassline give the song a sense of pride and strength and the horn solo references June's "Ring of Fire". The overall effect is chilling.
Tracks 3 & 4
Seven Times Hotter Than Fire & Every Time I Feel The Shift by T-Bone Burnett; From The True False Identity (2006)
The first album of new, non-soundtrack material from the now esteemed hillbilly archivist in many years. TFI is wired, stanky and full of a righteous moral fury that feels like a much needed and well-deserved slap in the face. Musically it feels like a cross between Rain Dogs-era Tom Waits (Marc Ribot adds his usually pointy guitar) and The Seeds (late 60's flower punk band know for "Pushin Too Hard") with a little My Bloody Valentine thrown in for good measure. TFI sometimes sounds like a pissed off dog that just climbed out of a gassy swamp and is about to set off after the bastard who abandoned him there. The dog is right to be pissed and you want to stay on his good side. If you stay on his good side, everything is going to be just fine.
The first album of new, non-soundtrack material from the now esteemed hillbilly archivist in many years. TFI is wired, stanky and full of a righteous moral fury that feels like a much needed and well-deserved slap in the face. Musically it feels like a cross between Rain Dogs-era Tom Waits (Marc Ribot adds his usually pointy guitar) and The Seeds (late 60's flower punk band know for "Pushin Too Hard") with a little My Bloody Valentine thrown in for good measure. TFI sometimes sounds like a pissed off dog that just climbed out of a gassy swamp and is about to set off after the bastard who abandoned him there. The dog is right to be pissed and you want to stay on his good side. If you stay on his good side, everything is going to be just fine.
Track 2
The Kids Don’t Get It by The Tragically Hip
From World Container (Universal Canada/2006)
A new Hip album is a big event (as these things go) in our house, so I was starting to sweat when the usual 24-month period between releases came and went. I was a also little nervous about the album itself, as Bob Rock, who has previously worked with rock gods Metallica, Bon Jovi and pathetic rock god wannabes the Cult was producing it. As a slavish Hip fan – the kind who pays an extra $10 he can barely afford to get the Canadian version because it’ll be 5 more months before his favorite band’s CD will be released in the U.S – the thought of the Hip putting out a great white north version of Wanted: Dead or Alive (“I’m a Mountie….”) set my teeth on edge. To my happy surprise, World Container is great. It is up-front and angry, and the boy's playing is as aggressive as their best live performance, which believe me is saying something. Gordon Downie's voice has never been as good, covering more emotional territory than ever (and here I thought that the best one could hope for was that their voice would go all Leonard Cohen on them as they aged). It is easily their best release since Phantom Power. And while I hate it when critics resort to that sort of lazy-ass statement, as in"its the best Stones recording since Some Girls." when anyone who knows anything knows that isn't remotely close to the truth, this time it is true. I swear. Thanks in part to Bob Rock, World Container is a great rock record. As those who know me have heard me say before, we need more of those.
From World Container (Universal Canada/2006)
A new Hip album is a big event (as these things go) in our house, so I was starting to sweat when the usual 24-month period between releases came and went. I was a also little nervous about the album itself, as Bob Rock, who has previously worked with rock gods Metallica, Bon Jovi and pathetic rock god wannabes the Cult was producing it. As a slavish Hip fan – the kind who pays an extra $10 he can barely afford to get the Canadian version because it’ll be 5 more months before his favorite band’s CD will be released in the U.S – the thought of the Hip putting out a great white north version of Wanted: Dead or Alive (“I’m a Mountie….”) set my teeth on edge. To my happy surprise, World Container is great. It is up-front and angry, and the boy's playing is as aggressive as their best live performance, which believe me is saying something. Gordon Downie's voice has never been as good, covering more emotional territory than ever (and here I thought that the best one could hope for was that their voice would go all Leonard Cohen on them as they aged). It is easily their best release since Phantom Power. And while I hate it when critics resort to that sort of lazy-ass statement, as in"its the best Stones recording since Some Girls." when anyone who knows anything knows that isn't remotely close to the truth, this time it is true. I swear. Thanks in part to Bob Rock, World Container is a great rock record. As those who know me have heard me say before, we need more of those.
So what it is about Canadians that they embrace – what seems to me to be, anyway – Gordon Downie’s lyrical "weirdness" (I mean that in the best possible way, too) to make them one of the biggest bands going (in Canada, anyway)? I just don’t think Bon Jovi would have been as huge stateside if they sang about hockey, great Canadian surrealist landscape painter Tom Thompson and the way WWII fighter pilots wore their hats, and R.E.M. didn't really start shifting units until Stipe spit the gum out of his mouth and sang about the one he loved. I know Downie's words mean something, I'm just not always sure what. And I'm not sure I care, either. They sound good, and not in the same way that Joey Ramone's lyrics do (that is, Joey's lyrics are so brilliantly moronic, like the loveable mutt that he was). Listening to The Hip (and their contemporaries The Weakerthans, Kathleen Edwards, Sarah Harmer, et-al has contibuted to my fine-if-incomplete education on Canadian sensibilites but I'm not there yet (though Generation X author Douglas Coupland has a fine book, Souvenir of Canada, that is quite informative). C'mon Canada, Help me out!
Track 1
Bully in the Alley by Three Pruned Men
From: Rogues Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Seas Songs & Chanteys/Various Artists (Anti/2006)
This two CD, 43-track collection features, among others, Nick Cave, Sting, the great actor and magician Ricky Jay, Loudon Wainwright III, Bryan Ferry and someone or something called Jack Shit. It is easily the best thing to come out of the drawn-out and horrible pirate craze of the last few years (which amounted to one good movie and an endless string of terrible jokes). The CD notes describe the titular bully as a man so stupid drunk that he can’t drag his sorry ass back on the ship. Meanwhile, his thoughts drift to the lovely Sally:
From: Rogues Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Seas Songs & Chanteys/Various Artists (Anti/2006)
This two CD, 43-track collection features, among others, Nick Cave, Sting, the great actor and magician Ricky Jay, Loudon Wainwright III, Bryan Ferry and someone or something called Jack Shit. It is easily the best thing to come out of the drawn-out and horrible pirate craze of the last few years (which amounted to one good movie and an endless string of terrible jokes). The CD notes describe the titular bully as a man so stupid drunk that he can’t drag his sorry ass back on the ship. Meanwhile, his thoughts drift to the lovely Sally:
Sally got down and dirty!I love that the singer sounds like a South Park’s Cartman, only wasted,
She is the girl that I gots to have!
consumptive and 40 years old. With more sex, brawling, drinking and swearing
than an episode of Deadwood, note that Rogue’s Gallery isn’t appropriate for
young children or the weak of heart.
P.S. I have no idea who Three Pruned Men are. And I have no idea why this posts insists on formatting the way it has. Nothing I've done changes it. Curses!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
