Here's a neat article on the recent emergence of the ultra-audiophile, connoisseurship-based, Japanese "Jazz Kissa" aesthetic in LA. While my work is generally geared to more heavily trafficked and less rarefied environments, I love that this ethos and sense of high-level curation is finding a space in the States [is this happening in New York?]. For what it's worth (and, if I'm being honest, I'm proud to say that) many of the names they dropped, such as Talk Talk's "Spirit of Eden," Emahoy Tsegue-Maryam Guebrou, and the Spiritual Jazz series, have all found their ways into my clients' playlists ;-)
There was a fun and interesting piece in the NY Times yesterday involving the pioneering Japanese musician, Ryuichi Sakamoto. Apparently, he has a favorite Japanese restaurant in New York City. Unfortunately, he hated the music they played. So, as one might, he wrote to the owner (a friend of his), told him the music was terrible, and offered to curate the music for him.
The music Sakamoto chose--sparse, elegant, particularly subtle, and esoteric--seems perfectly appropriate for a quiet and peaceful sushi restaurant. I wonder what he would do with a broader, more mainstream concept in which the ownership and clientele demanded music that is more accessible and familiar. That's the challenge I work with every day: how to craft a sound space that satisfies most guests' desire to hear things they already know and love--music that reassures them and makes them comfortable--that is also distinctive, interesting, and unique to the given space--music that takes them to a place they haven't been before.
My other question was, what Brazilian pop was the restaurant originally playing that could have been so awful?
I have three kids, aged 8-13. Despite my obsessive involvement with music, I've never pushed it on them. After all, if music is ever going to have any true meaning for them, it's got to comes from inside of them. You either feel it or you don't and you can't fake that.
My oldest digs music fine, but it's primarily background for him. My second also likes music just fine, but it isn't a major focus for her, either. She likes what she likes and doesn't feel the need to look much further.
But my littlest is a bit different. Left to her own devices, she plays KidzBop. The thing is, she sings along to every song, regardless of the style or genre. If I put on something else while we're in the car--First Wave, Soul Town, Ozzy's Boneyard, Deep Tracks, The Bridge, whatever--she will hum along, even if she doesn't know the song. And if she does know the song, she will sing along, even if she doesn't know the lyrics. She seems to like it all. She feels music (but don't ask her to try to play it).
So, it wasn't particularly surprising--though it was still super-cool--when she walked up to me while I was working on the curation for one of my clients and she wanted to see and hear what I was doing. I played her a certain song that I had recently placed in that client's program. I thought it would bridge her love of Pop with something leaning slightly towards a more Indie Pop sensibility.
Her response: "Dad, that's now my favorite song." Priceless.
She continued, "Can I come again and you can play me some more songs?"
It doesn't get any better than that.
This was the song:
The Rock ’n Roll Hall of Fame nominees have just been released. Of course, there is no objective, definitive, statistical means of evaluating musicians, the way there is for baseball players (and even that is highly controversial). But the way I like to keep myself grounded is by applying three major criteria: (1) formal innovation (2) importance/influence (3) enduring success/popularity, as these seem to me to get at the most essential facets of a musician’s legacy. On to my one cent…
BON JOVI: A similar case as Journey had last year, but weaker. As with Journey, Bon Jovi were a big, popular, mainstream, arena rock band. Their songs were pretty standard pop/rock of the era and not particular innovative. Apart from their period fashions, I don’t see much lasting musical influence. In their favor, they do have one song, “Living on a Prayer,” that continues to have pop cultural currency. But, at each point, they fall short of Journey: their musicianship was OK, but not of Journey’s caliber (most of whom had jazz-fusion backgrounds); Jon was an identifiable vocalist but not in the same league as Steve Perry; and, while Bon Jovi has some enduring hits, Journey has more and bigger ones. Ultimately, pop success alone cannot be sufficient for induction. Journey barely crossed the line on the back of their commercial success; Bon Jovi comes in below that line.
KATE BUSH: No brainer. That she has not been inducted ages ago is a major travesty of the RRHoF voting process. Along with Joni Mitchell, Kate Bush might be the greatest solo female artist of the rock/pop era. Her vocals are both distinctive and virtuosic; her compositions are dazzling and sophisticated in melody, structure, and rhythm; her production is consistently surprising, challenging, and individual; her influence flows through virtually every boldly artistic female artist that followed her, from Tori Amos to Bjork to St. Vincent. While her commercial success in the US is not nearly what it is in the UK, there is little doubt that, if she were to announce a US tour, she would sell out 20,000 person arenas from coast to coast. She is so ridiculously overqualified for this institution that it doesn’t merit further discussion.
THE CARS: All-time great debut. Excellent follow-up and significantly decreasing returns since then. They were a tight and stylish band, with cool, disaffected vocals, economic and intelligent lead guitar, a tight rhythm section, and effectively deployed keyboards. However, it would be hard to call them “innovative,” as they were a bit late to the New Wave rock scene. It would also be hard to call them particularly “influential,” with contemporaries such as the Talking Heads, Blondie, and even Gang of Four having their sounds appear more in contemporary bands. Borderline for me.
DEPECHE MODE: DM were more synth-pop popularizers than pioneers, as compared to, say, New Order or even Human League. However, DM should get the nod for a couple of reasons. The first is that they continued to evolve from their lightweight and somewhat formulaic (if catchy) beginnings, into darker and richer forms—both musically and lyrically. Their lasting impact and influence is massive and unquestionable.
DIRE STRAITS: As with the Cars, DS were a talented and musically stylish band. Their stripped-down, yet open and jazzy, blues-based rock was original and unlike their peers. Mark Knopfler’s restrained telecaster was often incisive and evocative. Better yet, they had solid success with their early sound even before their mainstream, Big Rock, MTV-fueled mega hit album. Unfortunately, they did little to follow-up on that blockbuster and I don’t see much lasting impact or influence. Ultimately, borderline for me.
EURYTHMICS: Along with Yaz and Erasure, Eurythmics were major proponents of the 80s vocalist-and-producer format. Annie Lennox cut an iconic frontwoman figure and the duo definitely had their share of hits. Unfortunately, their sound wasn’t that different from many of their peers, nor was their commercial peak that deep or that long. To their credit, they moved away from their early synth-pop sound and into more rock/r&b-based material but, again, their new successes were not particularly deep or long-lasting. Maybe some people look back longingly to Annie’s early imagery for inspiration, but I’m not sure their influence is particularly vigorous or any stronger than, say, Yaz', whose Upstairs at Eric’s album the Eurythmics never matched artistically.
J. GEILS BAND: The “Jewish Rolling Stones” were a helluva live band, with their high energy r&b/blues-based rocka rolla “house party” vibe. They even enjoyed some mainstream pop success via significant MTV play. But that’s really about as far as it goes.
JUDAS PRIEST: Hands down yes. Priest were critical to the evolution of Metal by bridging the heavy, swinging, blues-based sound of Black Sabbath to the leaner, meaner, tighter and more technical sound of Iron Maiden, essentially pioneering the modern Metal sound in the process. While I personally discount the more commercial and, frankly, dumbed-down style they performed in the 80s, the era of their biggest commercial success, their 70s work, from Sad Wings of Destiny through Stained Class, is some of the most influential work in Metal history. “Dissident Aggressor” is, for my money, one of the top-5 greatest Metal tracks of all-time. Innovation: Priest rates very high as the architects of modern Metal. Influence: from the shredding twin-lead guitar line up (shared with Thin Lizzy), to the operatic frontman, to the leather/s&m-influenced attire, to the lean tight sound with the Blues being de-emphasized, Judas Priest were one of the most influential bands in Metal history. That they not only had many charting hits and continue to sell-out arenas and headline festivals is testimony to their lasting popularity. They should be in and Maiden should be next.
LL COOL J: I don’t see it. Maybe someone else has more insight to LL’s history, but all I see is a by-the-numbers, mid- to late-80s commercial rapper, with fairly trite rhymes about his own sexiness, done in a style done much tougher and convincingly, and more technically, and more intelligently by any number of his contemporaries, from Run-DMC, to Eric B & Rakim, to the Beastie Boys. LL deserves credit for a fierce, live “unplugged” version of “Mama Said Knock You Out,” and for becoming a successful actor/celebrity.
MC5: A huge cult fave with tons of cred. They were a monster live band and are now often credited as being a precursor of Punk. The influence is there. Unfortunately, I’m not sure the same could be said for their recorded output. They never really translated their blitzing live show to vinyl and most of their recorded live output leaves a lot to be desired on the sound quality front. They deserve ongoing respect and reverence, but I’m not sure that the RRHoF is the most appropriate forum for their legacy.
THE METERS: Taking the wildly syncopated “second line” rhythms of Mardi Gras marching bands, the Meters stripped things down into a tough, tight, idiosyncratic, off-kilter, slinky, and inimitably funky groove. Basically, they translated New Orleans style for the rising funk and r&b of the 60s and 70s and ended up being one of the founders of Funk in the process. Incredibly innovative and influential (their playing appears on hundreds of recordings, not only by funk/r&b artists but also by rock & pop artists). Outside of music fans, I’m not sure how well-known they are and I doubt they ever sold millions of copies. I’d love to see them voted in, but I have doubts that’ll actually happen.
MOODY BLUES: An intriguing nominee. They were an important and influential band BUT their importance and and influence was not particularly enduring and is not particularly visible any more. They were also very successful in their day but are not widely listened to in the present. By building on the compositional innovations of Revolver/Sgt Pepper/Magical Mystery-era Beatles and working them into increasingly extended compositions based not only in psychedelia but also Classical music, the Moody Blues (with nods to Procol Harum and the Nice) have a strong claim to inventing Prog Rock. Unfortunately for them, thanks to bands such as Yes and King Crimson, the sound of Prog Rock evolved fast and far from what the Moody Blues first innovated. That their music still sounds very much of its vintage and has not made its way into contemporary aesthetics does not help their case. Ultimately, their importance should be revisited and appreciated—and credited—but their lack of direct, ongoing influence and limited listenership among newer generations renders them a “no” vote.
RADIOHEAD: I can hardly think of a bigger slam dunk. Other than Nirvana, Radiohead is probably the most influential and important Rock band of the past 30 years. Just an obvious yes.
RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE: Tough call. On the one hand, they were one of the biggest Rock bands of the 90s. They forged what is probably the most effective fusion of Rock and Hip Hop to date (Public Enemy is up there, too, with RatM falling more on the Rock side and PE falling more on the Hip Hop side). On the other hand, not many bands of consequence followed their lead. To the extent we saw further Rock/Hip hybrids, it was in the artistically dubious “Nu Metal” genre. Nor do we hear much of their influence either in contemporary Rock or Hip Hop. A recently rebooted offshoot, Prophets of Rage, released an album to mixed reviews. While they were a vital, envigorating band, it seems that their importance is largely limited to their era. Great to rock out to but ultimately a “no,” for now, at least.
RUFUS FEATURING CHAKA KHAN: This is a change, I believe, from last year when Chaka was nominated on her own. Unfortunately, I think limiting Chaka to Rufus makes this a weaker candidacy. I wrote last year that Chaka was likely, in terms of all-around talent, success, and musical quality, the best Black female vocalist of the late 70s and early 80s. Moreover, I said then and still hold, that she compares more than favorably to her contemporary and RRHoF member, Donna Summer, with Chaka being superior vocally and in the richness of her jazz-funk-soul-disco catalog. Restricting Chaka to Rufus removes her often-superb early solo work. By herself, Chaka should be a shoo-in. With Rufus, as good as they were, and she with them, the candidacy is much more limited.
NINA SIMONE: An even bigger slam dunk than Radiohead. I was gobsmacked, flabbergasted, and dumbstruck that she was not in already. The only reason I can think of is that she might not be considered “Rock ’n Roll,” in the technical sense. As with our earlier discussion on Hip Hop, I think most of us recognize that Rock ’n Roll does not still refer only to music strictly having the characteristics of traditional rock and roll, but encompasses all contemporary (primarily Anglophone) popular music. She should be in…decades ago.
SISTER ROSETTA THARPE: Another intriguing nomination. Sister Rosetta Tharpe is widely acknowledged as a Rock precursor for bridging Gospel with secular r&b while wielding an electric guitar. She was successful in the 1940s but is not widely known today (though that is being remedied via the wonders of YouTube) and it is not clear she was well-known to the generation of Rock musicians following Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, and Little Richard. Innovation: huge. Influence: in some ways, massive; in some ways, perhaps, limited. Success/popularity: significant but largely reserved to her era (though that may change as more people discover her, after the fact). Drawing and understanding roots and origins is critical to understanding development and evolution. But that can be covered in history books. On the other hand, the RRHoF functions, in many ways, as a big, public history book. It could go either way, but I’d probably err on the side of completion and richness.
LINK WRAY: A similar nomination to Sister Rosetta Tharpe’s. Like Sister Rosetta, Link is not widely known, outside of music fans. He doesn’t have many big hits, (his instrumental, “Rumble,” comes closest, but still isn’t as recognizable as his contemporary, Dick Dale’s “Miserlou”) and, were he still alive, he would not sell-out large venues. However, his influence on the sound of Rock ’n Roll is enormous. When you listen to early Rock guitarists, like Chuck Berry or Bo Diddley, they rock, but there is a rootsiness that is almost quaint to contemporary ears. What Link Wray did was take that rocking sound and made it nasty. With huge chords and snarling distortion, Wray brought a sense of menace to Rock, which later rockers (from the Who and Stones, on down) would increasingly draw upon. An argument could be made that Link Wray did more to influence the way the electric guitar sounded until Hendrix. A sentimental, archival choice for me. But I can see how the voting will probably not work out that way.
THE ZOMBIES: As I wrote last year, the Zombies were the writers of an exceptional, exquisite, body of work that stands as among the greatest of its era, but which is relatively meagre and lacks longer-term influence. It is possible that the Zombies lack of disciples is testament to the group’s inimitability (particularly Colin Blunstone’s breathy, melancholy romanticism). They are a borderline choice, even questionable, but undeniably wonderful.
“City Pop” is a Japanese take on what is sometimes called WestCoast or, more, colloquially, “Yacht Rock.” City Pop takes the Yacht Rock foundation of soft/smooth rock with r&b/soul/jazz touches and ultra-polished studio production and smoothes it out ever more. The result is often saccharine and sentimental but sometimes extremely refined and elegant.
One great example of City Pop done well—and a track I can’t stop playing right now is vivacious chanteuse, Ruriko Ohgami’s “ふわりふわふわ.” Don’t ask me to pronounce it, much less translate it. What makes it special isn’t the slinky cocktail jazz instrumentation but the exquisite Brazilian lilt in the deliciously, irresistably ever-so-slightly melancholy melody. Once it caresses you, it’s hard to let it go. I haven’t after a few dozen listens.
Last full day of school for the kids. After dropping them off and cruising home, this one came up on a compilation I had in my car. And it hit just right. Jimmy's easy and understatedly funky groove comes off like a folkier blue-eyed take on artists such as Bill Withers. Perfect for a relaxed, sunny, early Summer morning.
We all need bridges to get us from places and things we know to places and things we have yet to discover. If we jump too far too fast, the "new" will feel foreign, alien, weird. But with the right bridge, the "new" will feel enlightening, exciting, and stimulating.
When I was a kid, growing up on classic rock radio, I needed exactly this kind of bridge to bring me into the then-exploding world of "alternative" rock. The artists that did it for me were bands such as Soundgarden, who were deeply steeped in the wailing heavy rock of Led Zeppelin, Fishbone, who grooved with the spirits of Sly & the Family Stone, and Primus, who mutated the Prog rock of Rush and King Crimson into their idiosyncratic concoction.
The Beatles are also instructive of this principle. They explored and experimented so widely, they provided for many people who had only been exposed to pop music the bridge to the exotic shores of psychedelia in "Tomorrow Never Knows," to the concept album of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, to the chamber/orchestral arrangements of "Eleanor Rigby," to the heavy rock of "Helter Skelter," to the avant-garde of "Revolution #9," even to the very idea of Rock 'N Roll, itself.
This little video describes how an early 20th Century industrial engineer, Raymond Loewy, began to theorize about this bridge concept through a formulation he called "Most Advanced Yet Accessible," or "MAYA." The idea is that people like things that are as out-there as possible while still being recognizable. Loewy figured that one way to help achieve MAYA is by bridging people from the familiar to the increasingly "new."
I always try to do the same with all of my programming and curatorial (though I haven't always had Loewy's terminology to describe it). By inserting quirky, off center (but fun and often funky!) pieces of Prog Rock, Swedish psych, TV themes, groovy instrumentals, Thai funk, Ethiopian jazz, French and Brazilian pop, Basque folk, or whatever, within environments of more familiar rock, pop, and soul, I hope to spark the delight of discovering something "most advanced yet accessible," pushing listeners' boundaries without anyone realizing it but enjoying the trip all the same. To me, when it's working right, that is what's "cool."
Fairport Convention were a critical band for me. After reading about them (and Joni Mitchell) in the Led Zeppelin biography, Hammer of the Gods, I explored their work, which took me down a wonderful rabbit hole of British Folk Rock, worlds away from the all day-all night classic rock radio that was my 13-year old life.
It was the Zeppelin track, "Battle of Evermore," off of Led Zeppelin IV. The startling female soprano vocals belonged to a certain Sandy Denny, Fairport's lead vocalist. After delving into Fairport's work--particulary the definitive Liege & Lief--it was clear that Denny's voice soared over most of the band's best work (her "Fotheringay" is one of my favorite melodies in all of music). However, there was one big exception, the track here, "Tale in a Hard Time." Sounding like a British Byrds, with more agile guitars, a more muscular rhythm section, and vocals that soared in a way the Byrds rarely did, this one is something special and Fairport never recorded another song quite like it.
My first Marvin Gaye album was What's Goin' On. Wonderful, magical, etc. Loved it. So, I moved on to Marvin's next 70s album, Let's Get it On. Liked it, didn't love it. The songs lacked the progressive sweep and transportive dynamics of the previous album. Sure, it was grittier, I suppose, but that didn't make it better. So, I tried again, with I Want You. That was the jackpot. It not only had everything I loved in What's Goin' On, but it was the first time I had ever heard a soul "concept album," of the type I knew and loved so well from the Prog Rock world. Every track stood on its own, but the whole became even greater than the sum of its parts as the tracks flowed one into another until, by the end, I had gone on a proverbial "journey." This was almost exactly what Maxwell did twenty years later on his debut. Man, Marvin was the best!
Well, yes, and no. It was only years later that I learned that most of the entire album was written and arranged by a young hand at Motown, named Leon Ware. The story is that Leon put it together and showed it to Motown boss, Berry Gordy. Gordy said, in no uncertain terms, that it was so good he was going to take it and give it to the biggest Motown artist at the time. That artist was Marvin and the rest was history. Leon was able to re-record and release much of I Want You around a year later, as Musical Massage. Unfortunately, without much label push (and, frankly, without Marvin's name), the album didn't do much in the market.
Nonetheless, Leon was able to go on and have a fairly successful solo career, punctuated by the blissfully smooth, "Why I Came to California." To this day, that song stands as one of the true high points of the WestCoast AOR/rare groove ("yacht rock") scene of the late 70s/early 80s. One of my faves, for sure, and one that I try to work in whenever and wherever I can...
We are all compelled to sing. Some more than others. Some, more frequently. Some, louder. But we ALL do it. Different times, moods, and vibes. There are songs we can sort of maybe kind of do amateur justice to. There are songs just way out of our league. But we give it a go. Sometimes, we might need the protection of a shower curtain or the courage of two our five tequila shots. But we still do it. We can't help it. And we love it,
One of those songs for me is Al Jarreau's "We Got By." It hushes and delicately leaps, coos and delicately cascades, lithely stretches and groans to sensitive growls, soars to saxophone-like reveries. I find my face involuntarily contorts into into jazzy shapes both round and angular, while my eyes close and my eye brows rise and fall. It's special and wonderful. It's one of the songs I deeply wish I could do justice to. Fortunately, the man wrote it did it all the justice it so righteously deserved. He was truly special. And now he's gone.
P.S. if all you know of Al Jarreau is his 80s jazz/yacht pop, you really should check out his first album--the one for for which "We Got By" is the title track. Yes, it's breezy and jazzy, but it's also often slinky and tight and funky in a way he would never quite hit again.
If there is anyone who personifies the Female Artist in the rock/pop era, it's Joni Mitchell. She is a true icon and the standard by which any female singer/songwriter is measured. There is no one of commercial viability who has so consistently pushed herself and her audience into increasingly sophisticated musical realms (the only one in her league is Kate Bush, though her renown in the US is criminally below what it deserves to be). In any event, it's her birthday today. So, in honor of her, here is a playlist I put together a little while ago, featuring my favorite tracks from each of Joni's albums, up to 1982, and tracks by a handful of the best artists who clearly and profoundly have been influenced by her.
Last night, the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame published its annual list of nominees. Here's my 1.5 cents on the 19 nominees:
BAD BRAINS: Deep cred faves. But, honestly, I’m not sure that they have wide-ranging enough influence to be a RRHoF band. Sure, they influenced the Beasties, but not in a way that was pervasive throughout the Beasties’ sound (except maybe a bit on “Check Your Head”). Yes, they obviously influenced Living Colour, but that latter band was a much clearer influence on the Black Rock of the late 80s and early 90s. In the end, BB may have been the most blazing American punk/hard core band ever. They influenced bands who likely had more influence than they did. Love 'em, worship 'em, but not RRHoF.
THE CARS: Their debut album is one of the best “Greatest Hits” albums ever released. Unfortunately, their subsequent albums suffered from increasingly diminished returns. So, their body of work is not very deep (though their best is of very high quality) and much of it kinda sucks. Nor were they particularly innovative (they came late to the New Wave scene). Nor have they necessarily had a major influence on future bands, as far as I can tell. A quality band but not one that rises to the level of HoF.
CHAKA KHAN: Perhaps not as famous or quite as commercially successful as her contemporary and RRHoF member, Donna Summer, Chaka nonetheless compares more than favorably. Chaka was superior to Donna both vocally as well as in the richness of her jazz-soul-funk-disco catalog (including her work with Rufus and solo). A strong argument could be made that, in terms of all-around talent, success, and musical quality, Chaka was the best Black female vocalist of the late 70s and early 80s.
CHIC: This should be a no-brainer. Not only were Chic likely the finest disco ensemble of the era, not only was their production definitive for the era, but “Good Times” is one of the most deeply and widely running rivers in all of popular music since the late 70s, whether in Rock (Queen), New Wave (Blondie), or hip-hop (Grandmaster Flash, etc). An essential band who really must be in.
DEPECHE MODE: As major popularizers, rather than originators of rock/pop sub-genre (in this case, synth-pop), Depeche Mode maybe strikes a parallel with another nominee, Pearl Jam. If Depeche Mode is to be considered, we have to wonder why New Order is not. What makes me give DM the benefit of the doubt is the way they evolved beyond their somewhat formulaic and lightweight beginnings to incorporate darker themes, both musically as well as lyrically. And, influence-wise, their impact and influence is unquestionable.
ELO: Delightful band with a deep well of good material (if sometimes buried among less distinguished material). Maybe we could say that their baroque pop bridged certain elements of the Beatles with certain elements of the Bee Gees and they definitely have their adherents. But I have a tough time seeing their impact, as a whole, being HoF level.
J. GEILS BAND: A tip of the hat to a great live band who also had some mainstream success in the MTV era. But, no way. Sorry.
JANE'S ADDICTION: Tough one. While their two proper alternative-era albums are two of the most original and exciting of the time, it is a relatively small body of work and that work has not really proven to be particularly influential. How many bands can you think of that sound anything like Jane’s or even point to Jane's as a major influence? Maybe that’s testimony to the inimitability of their style but it also raises questions about their “importance,” if not about their quality (their involvement in the credits of Entourage doesn’t help). While borderline for the RRHoF, they always have my devotion, for whatever that’s worth.
JANET JACKSON: I don’t see it. Obviously, Janet has been massively successful across four decades. However, she seemed more to ride the popular trends through the years rather than really trailblazing anything. And while she always knew how to cut a hit, her sound was never really that distinctive not were her vocals ever particularly impressive. Lastly, I really don’t see her musical and cultural influence (apart from her unfortunate involvement in a certain Superbowl halftime spectacle).
JOAN BAEZ: If the RRHoF existed in 1969, Baez would have been a top-tier no-brainer. Now, with her brand of folk not particularly pervasive and considering that she was known primarily an interpreter in an era of singer-songwriters (though all Metal fans will eternally salute her for “Diamonds and Rust”), it is getting harder to make the case for her. That said, if Linda Ronstadt can get in…
JOE TEX: At least he made it into the Reservoir Dogs soundtrack. But, as my friend, DJ Duane, explains: “Tex was the bridge between Little Willie John (who's in the Hall) and James Brown. It's been said and confirmed that Brown lifted a lot of Tex's dance moves from him...he was George Clinton's fave singer and you can hear a lot of borrowed riffs in a TON of early-mid funkadelic tunes. Even Clinton's song-rap narrative is a direct descendant of Tex's unique style. He's an important unsung yet integral part of Funk's history....he's a foundation of hip hop that's for sure.” “Important” and “unsung,” then, but still not RRHoF.
JOURNEY: If entry to a RRHoF ought to be based on some algorithm involving importance/influence, success/popularity, and innovation, Journey strains that algorithm by making its case overwhelmingly off of only the most déclassé of those factors. On this basis, should ‘Nsync eventually be voted in? Justin Bieber? However, there are a couple of things that make Journey more than a mere pop star vote. First, the band’s musicianship was of an extremely high caliber (if not particularly imaginative). Second, the presence of an exceedingly identifiable vocalist in Steve Perry, gave them a trademark sound far beyond and more affecting than peers such as Foreigner and REO Speedwagon. Lastly, the argument could be made that Journey has actually been influential in the larger culture simply due to the fact that so many outlets (from The Sopranos to Glee) have found their music to be resonant in numerous contexts. In short, many people still really love their stuff. That counts.
KRAFTWERK: Another no-brainer. While pop artists from Perrey & Kingsley to the Silver Apples, to Tangerine Dream, to Sly Stone had been experimenting with drum-machines, synthesizers, and other electronics for years, no single artist was more responsible for developing electronic music into pop music than Kraftwerk. While I would not claim, as others have, that all electronic pop music, from electro-hip hop to synth-pop to techno would have been unthinkable without Kraftwerk, no one was more important or, um, instrumental in growing that branch of the Rock tree.
MC5: Like Bad Brains, deep cred here (Jennifer Aniston notwithstanding). MC5 were a jams kicking live band and, now, widely seen as a precursor to punk. It would be great to vote them in. The influence is there. Unfortunately, I’m not so sure the same could be said for their recorded output. They never really translated their blitzing live show to record and, of the many live recordings that exist, most are of bootleg sound quality. The MC5 deserve to be remembered and revered, but I’m not so sure that the RRHoF is really the most appropriate forum for their legacy.
PEARL JAM: Like Depeche Mode, PJ were more popularizers than innovators. However, they have maintained their status as one of the biggest American stadium bands for over three decades. If they deserve to get in (and they do), it would be primarily on the basis of their enduring size (with a nod to the straight-forward integrity with which they carry themselves). As for importance, they certainly deserve much credit for shaping the mainstream alternative sound of the 90s. However, as that page is written, there is no question that it was Nirvana who really marked that decade more than any other, even if Pearl Jam outsold them.
STEPPENWOLF: Give me a break. This would be like voting a pitcher into the baseball Hall of Fame for pitching a single no-hitter and a two-hitter.
TUPAC SHAKUR: I generally believe that hip hop is part of the larger “rock & roll” universe. However, that argument is easier to sustain with artists such as Run-DMC, Public Enemy, and NWA who all had strong elements of Rock within their sonic frameworks. With Tupac (and, soon, Biggie and most of the hip hop to follow), that interior Rock element is not as present (and, frankly, I was never much of a fan of his schtick). Still, if we are to take the shared Hip Hop and Rock universe seriously, we must also take seriously the apparent and wide-spread influence that hip hop culture claims for Tupac, but it’s borderline for me.
YES: An absolute no-brainer. In terms of success and influence, Yes are probably the most important Prog Rock band of all-time. They did not necessarily invent Prog Rock nor were they necessarily the most avant-garde, but they did more to define the sound and likely inspired more bands to make Prog Rock than any other band. Their five-album peak body of work is magnificent (only Genesis from that same time can challenge it) and their magnum opus, 1973’s Close to the Edge, is arguably the finest Prog Rock album ever recorded (and is also a worthy entry as one of the all-time greatest albums, of any genre). If we were to completely disregard all of their other recorded output (including the massive—and better than you might think—90125 i.e. the one with “Owner of a Lonely Heart”), on the basis of their deep peak, the heights of their finest work, and their profound influence, Yes should be a top-tier RRHoF selection.
THE ZOMBIES: Just as Depeche Mode parallels Pearl Jam, as successful popularizers rather than innovators, the Zombies maybe parallel Jane’s Addiction, as the writers of an exquisite—though relatively meagre—body of work that stands as among the greatest of its era, but which lacks longer-term influence. As with Jane’s, maybe the lack of Zombies disciples is testament to the group’s inimitability (particularly vocalist, Colin Blunstone’s, breathy romanticism). Borderline, even questionable, but undeniably wonderful.
In the wake of the Smiths' pining romanticism, the Cocteau Twin's gauzy ethereality, and Sarah Records' pastel preciousness emerged a fertile garden of melodically lush, faintly melancholy, and faintingly beautiful (predominantly British) artists in the late 80s and early 90s. One of the most striking of these artists was the neo-Romantic, pre-Raphaelite duo, Shelleyan Orphan. Eschewing synthesizers (and, frankly, most electric and electronic instrumentation), Shelleyan Orphan wove finely wrought strings with equally intricately braided vocals. Those vocals, particularly Ms. Crowley's ringleted, lightly trilling soprano, ornamented with light trills and filigree, could not have possibly been more perfectly suited for incanting the group's music if Dante Gabriel Rosetti had painted them himself.
Ms. Crawley passed this day. Here is the song that first stopped my heart with her voice: the cover of reclusive Canadian songstress, Mary Margaret O'Hara's, "Let Me Lift You Up," as performed by the seminal Goth-Romantic-Ambient label, 4AD's, iconic standard-bearer, This Mortal Coil, from which Ms. Crawley has just shuffled off....
It's the unofficial last week of Summer. I'm tempted toed into something bittersweet and wistful, something along the lines of the eternal chestnut, Seals and Crofts' "Summer Breeze." But, forget that, I'd rather throw my hands in the air this year and go with some fun and carefree funk. La da da all the way to pool while I still can!
I don't often read those websites that list musicians' birthdays but, when I do, they often reveal something interesting. Today was no exception. Up first were two classics: saxophone immortal, Charlie Parker (1920), and superb jazz/blues vocalist, Dinah Washington (1924). Very respectable. So far, so good.
However, today also presented two absolutely bizarro pairings. The first features two entertainers of vastly different measure: the electrifying and preternaturally talented, though profoundly disturbed, Michael Jackson (1958) and the execrable, profoundly untalented, though equally disturbed corprophiliac punker, GG Allin (1956).
The more interesting pairing for me, however, is the second one. This one featured two vocalists: the glossolaliac Queen of etherea, the Cocteau Twins' Elizabeth Fraser (1958) and the harrowing avant-blues-operatic dark majesty, Diamanda Galas (1955). Both women delivered vocal signatures and performances the world had never quite heard before them, although in radically different forms. Fraser unfurled wordless spiraling streams and swirls of airy and crystalline shimmer. By extreme contrast, Galas unleashed virtuosic wails, moans, growls, shrieks and caterwauls of abject rage and horror. Despite their extreme formal differences, both artists shared a surprisingly large crossover of fan bases during the late 80s-early 90s indie/goth golden years. I do wonder what Virgo has to say about all of this...
It is hot. Really hot. Really. I don't go for "heat index" subjectivity, but you can feeeeel it out here. But that's cool. No problem. Hot summer days (and nights) just call for their own music. One of my favorite hot Summer albums is Miami-based soulster, Little Beaver's, Party Down album. It's sultry, without trying to stick its tongue down your throat, and funky without demanding that you die by dehydration on the dance floor. Just sweet (not cloying), smooth (not slick), and laid-back with just enough bump to keep everyone's head's bobbing in their lawn chairs or on their way to grabbing another cold one from the cooler. The whole album carries this perfect groove, from start to finish. But the title track is what always brings me back in.
It's all about "family," whether God-given or personally chosen. As they say in this song, "Happiness depends...on people!"