If my luck at record stores is any indication of how my finals go, I'm going to ace the civil procedure exam tomorrow. Another great day of finds at my new favorite record store and subject of the first Vinyl Blotter, Hymie's Vintage Records. Eight records for $18. You can do the math. And it's not like these were the typical ubiquitous records you find in the $2 bin. I didn't buy another copy of Rumors, Born to Run, or The Doobie Brothers' Greatest Hits. I bought these:
1. Sticky Fingers (The Rolling Stones)
Could be the most famous bulge not associated with Al Gore. Yes, this is the famous 1971 album that features a (working) zipper on the Andy Warhol-designed cover. It's kind of weird and I'm a little afraid that it's going to damage my other records (umm, not in the way you're thinking -- but because of the zipper protruding, sicko), but it's an awesome record. With "Brown Sugar," "Wild Horses," and "Bitch," it's another bluesy stab at rock by a great band smack in the middle of my favorite era of theirs. And it was only $2. At Electric Fetus, it would've been at least $12.
2. Rocks (Aerosmith)
Another band with a lead singer best known for his lips and drug use. Another great album from their mid-70's peak. Another steal at $3.
3. & 4. Ram (Paul McCartney) & Band on the Run (Wings)
Is it bad that Paul is my favorite Beatle? Sure, John was more angsty and more "high art" minded and George was more mystical and Ringo was...on Shining Time Station, but has there been anyone more melodic than Macca? I love his bouncy basslines and pop-centric arrangements on these albums. They aren't up to the standards of his other band, but these two albums are right on their heels.
5. Hank Williams' Greatest Hits
For when you're so lonesome you could cry. I take Hank over Dierks Bently, Big & Rich, or almost any other mainstream "country" musician any day.
6. Endless Summer (The Beach Boys)
Ok, so this isn't Brian Wilson's artistic statement like Pet Sounds or SMILE, but these instantly recognizable summer songs are just what I needed on a drizzly, cool May day. And, at 50 cents, how could you go wrong?
7. The Shirelles
A short (18 min) compilation of this 1960's girl band that will sound great on a lazy August weekend evening.
8. Texas Flood (Stevie Ray Vaughan)
One of the best blues records ever.
The point of this post and this whole Vinyl Blotter series of posts is not to try and convince people that I have "good' taste in music. It's to try and convince people to explore music outside of the mainstream. Sure, all of these bands were or still are "mainstream," but the point is that they're not being force-fed to the public on the iTunes homepage or on KS95. For less than the price of a song, you can find music either forgotten or shoved into some niche (oldies, classic rock, country western) and therefore ignored by most casual music listeners. I write about vinyl so much because it's something I really enjoy doing and sharing. Each time I dig into a dusty crate, it's like an instant history lesson. So this is what people used to listen to. I find myself thinking about who the previous owner was, why they bought the album -- why they decided to sell it. I love new music too, but discovering influences it makes it all the more enjoyable. It's listening to the band Girls and hearing Elvis Costello's exaggerated snarl. Or hearing Dusty Springfield in Cat Power. Or the Shirelles in Beyonce. And while it's easy to fall into a "spot-the-influences" trap, it's also easy to think that the music that comes out today somehow came out of a musical test tube, with no antecedent. Kind of like teaching creationism in schools ;o)
This is my favorite song off of an amazing, sprawling 1984 album called Double Nickels on the Dime by the band Minutemen. They were around in the early to mid-80's, contemporaries of Minneapolis bands like Husker Du and the Replacements. Seen by some as an advancement of punk and by others as the death of it, Double Nickels on the Dime was perhaps the artistic apex of the genre, which evolved from the chugging chords of the Ramones, to the snarling lyricism of Elvis Costello, to the worldly sound of the Specials and the Clash -- and finally to this, a combination of free-form instrumentals, chugging riffs, and bouncy basslines with an in your face approach that defined punk. While this song, "History Lesson Part 2" is the band at their most subdued, it's a touching homage to influential bands and the camaraderie of being in a band (not unlike LCD Soundsystem's "Losing My Edge" or anything by the Hold Steady, but especially "Certain Songs" and "We Can Get Together").
When people (like me) try to say that the 80's were devoid of good music, bands like Husker Du, the Replacements, the Minutement, the Pixies, REM, and Pavement stand as a testament to the contrary.
"Mr. Narrator: this is Bob Dylan to me, my story could be his songs..."
I go to record stores a lot. If you know me, you know this. There is a singular rush I get, the thrill of finding that perfect record, when I walk in the door. Sometimes I'm looking for something specific, but more often than not, I go in with an open mind and see what I find. The following are some of this week's finds:
1. Hymie's Records
Hymie's Records, off of E. Lake Street, has been in business for as long as I've been alive. But in exciting news, they just opened the doors to a new location, 5 blocks away from their old store. I never went to their old store, but their new one already has that disheveled yet organized feel every record store worth its salt should have. Large, vintage speakers spewing warm, vinyl goodness all over the store from a Pro-ject Debut II turntable (the one I have!) and vinyl spills out every nook and cranny. How did I not know this vinyl utopia existed? For one, blame my recovering, sheltered suburbanite self, -- I'm just now discovering the plethora of great record stores not named Cheapo we have in this city (Treehouse, Roadrunner, Shuga, etc etc.). But the well-stocked Hymie's may be my new favorite. It's not really in a trendy part of town, which I think suits records stores just fine. They should be a destination, not a place you stop off at on the way to Chino Latino. Hymie's will now be a regular destination for me. Great selection, great vibe, great prices. Where have you been all my life?
2. The Rolling Stones "Beggars Banquet" @ Hymie's
Most Rolling Stones albums in record stores today come from the unfortunate period in many great 60's/70's bands: the 1980's. Nothing is ever really in stock from bands' heydays either because people smartly hold on to these albums or because finding them in good condition some 40 years hence proves to be a difficult task. But my new favorite record store happened to have this album today, to my delight. At first, I thought it was some sort of bootleg -- the album art I'm most familiar with looks like this:
So I was confused when I saw the spare "Beggars Banquet" album staring at me. Apparently the toilet graffiti cover was nixed by record execs (the fools) and the spare, White Album-ish cover was chosen for the original release instead. Beggars Banquet comes from my favorite period of the Stones' career and kicked off a run of albums (Let it Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main St.) over the course of four years that may be paralleled only by the Beatles (Rubber Soul through Abbey Road) and Led Zeppelin (Led Zeppelin through Zoso (or maybe Physical Graffiti if we're feeling charitable)). It's bluesy, it's country, but most of all, it's rock.
3. B.B. King "Back in the Alley: The Classic Blues of B.B. King" & "20/20: Twenty No. 1 Hits from Twenty Years at Motown" @ Hymie's
If you visit me at my apartment (please do!) I will be occupying one of two rooms: the living room or my bedroom. Really, besides the bathroom, that's all my apartment has to offer. But I have a record player in each room. In the living room, you'll find my Pro-ject turntable (with a Grado Green cartridge), my custom made (thanks Dad!) transmission line floor speakers, and my Pioneer (soon to be replaced with a Marantz!) receiver. This is the good system. In my bedroom, you'll find an old receiver, bookshelf speakers, and a donated record player (thanks Uncle Herb!). I reserve the bedroom system for older records that I can just play in the background. Well, this is the room the B.B. King and Motown albums were headed for. Until I listened to them. "Back in the Alley" has some really great music on it, from "Paid the Cost to be the Boss" to "Lucille," a song written about his beloved guitar. The Motown album has classic singles from the Jackson 5, Diana Ross, Marvin Gaye, and Stevie Wonder. I might put it next to my Supremes Anthology for when I'm feeling all Motown-y. Point of this entry: sometimes the cheapest, "throwaway" records are really the hidden jewels, ready for the big show (the living room player) kind of like Wilson Ramos.
I enjoy a vinyl album from time to time. Nothing beats flipping through endless, dusty records, cycling through the clunkers to find that hidden gem. I had a lot of those moments this year, some of them coming at the most unexpected times. Here are my favorites from 2009:
"Physical Graffiti" by Led Zeppelin (antique store near Davenport, IA) | I foundthis classic Zep album visiting a friend in the famous Quad Cities. We were down by the shore of the Mississippi, the site of a large tug-of-war contest, Iowa against Illinois. My friend loves antiquing so I trusted her when she suggested we stop in. I'm glad we did. The first thing I looked for upon entering the smallish store was their vinyl collection, which was located, as I expected, on a nondescript milk crate on a nondescript shelf amongst other knickknacks. There were just three small cartons sitting in a tidy little row. I was fully resigned to the fact that all of the albums would be in bad shape and well, of the kinds of music you would expect to find at a hole-in the wall antique store in the middle of America. Lots of Righteous Brothers, Engelbert Humperdinck, Andy Williams and the like. But all I found was classic vinyl from the 70's and 80's. I walked out smiling with the Zeppelin album, Derek and the Dominos (Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs), Prince (1999), and David Bowie (Let's Dance). Let's just say that it was the highest density of quality vinyl I've yet found and it was in Davenport, Iowa. Never underestimate Middle America.
"Purple Rain" by Prince and the Revolution (Half Price Books) | I had to get this since I'm now officially back home in Minnesota. Half Price books, I'm finding, has a lot of mainstream vinyl on its shelves. I don't think it gets picked over like the selection at Cheapo does, so there is usually a better ratio of clunkers to good albums there. I have yet to conclusively test my hypothesis; the only way to do so is to keep going to both! But this album is really the epitome of Prince and his strange combination of rock, funk, and R&B that defined his "sound."
"Looking Back" Stevie Wonder (Cheapo - St. Paul) | This is a 3-fold LP released in 1977 by Motown. It's a retrospective spanning 40 songs he released during the 60's and 70's. At his request (possibly due to the potentially offensive title??) Motown deleted it from its catalog and it was never reissued. I was pretty stoked to find it just as Cheapo closed for the night.
"Get Happy!" by Elvis Costello (record store, downtown Davenport, IA) | Thanks to Emily for taking me to find the second great discovery in Iowa. This one was a full fledged record store, spanning three rooms in an old building in downtown Davenport. We found a lot of good records, but none better than Elvis Costello's homage to soul. "Get Happy" was made after Costello made some drunken comments about Ray Charles to get a rise out of his drinking buddies. It somehow got to the press and a bit of a row ensued. Well, turns out he really likes soul music and he's really good at performing it. It is the fourth of his first five amazing albums (My Aim is True, This Year's Model, Armed Forces, and Trust) and it's a spastic twenty songs that establish Costello as one of the most flexible pop performers of the past 30 years. [Note: producer Nick Lowe assures LP owners that the sound quality will not be degraded due to "groove cramming" resulting from putting 10 tracks per side. Remember when sound quality/album sequencing mattered?]
"Rhythm of Resistance: Music of Black South Africa" (Cheapo Uptown) | I found this in the new arrivals bin one day and, I don't know, maybe I was feeling adventurous, but I bought it (hey, records are only $3). Ladysmith Black Mambazo have a few tracks on the B-side which are graceful and powerful as they were on the B-side of "Graceland." The first side has these funky guitar songs that kind of drone on in a groove...it's hard to explain, but that's the best part about finding new music -- sometimes it's just fun to listen to!
Sure, it's happened before ("In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" by Neutral Milk Hotel, "Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain" by Pavement, "Separation Sunday" by the Hold Steady, and "Is This It? (this an amazing video...Julian Casablancas walks off stage, comes back just in time -- or, why the Strokes were about to save rock and roll in 2001)" by the Strokes all come to mind), but more often than not, I'm just mildly impressed by what comes my way. It's not snobbery, just a high musical bar. Or narrow taste.
The Beastie Boys up 'till this point have always been a caricature of who they really are. This part of me still sees them as most people did after License to Ill (a great album just good enough to escape novelty) -- frat-rap jokesters somewhat like the 80's version of the Bloodhound Gang. Not a group to take seriously. I couldn't figure out why some of my friends held them in such high esteem. The song I most associated with them was "Intergalactic," a song that was included on one of those Grammy Nominees CDs I got every year in the mid-90's for my birthday. Next to Seal, Celine Dion, and Coolio, Beastie Boys seemed just too weird for my PBS-raised self. I didn't have MTV growing up, so I missed "Sabotage" playing on endless repeat. I didn't have self-awareness in 1989, so I missed Paul's Boutique. I missed a lot of things.
Well, I have both (MTV and self-awareness) now, so there's really no excuse not to give those crazy white guys from NYC a fresh look. My interest was piqued when I was scrounging around for Elvis Costello's appearance on Saturday Night Live in 1977. The back story: his label and NBC wanted him to play "Less than Zero," his single from his amazing (add this to the "albums that floored me" list) album, This Year's Model, but partway through the opening, he stopped his band and played, "Radio, Radio," which sends a decidedly anti-commercial message to listeners. NBC apparently does nothing but threaten litigation upon anyone who dares post the original performance online. I can't find it anywhere. But I did find this clip, from 25 years later, of another "sabotage" by Elvis...
Two artists who define their generations' "I just don't give a fuck" attitude (with Pavement following in the 90's and I would argue Lil' Wayne in the 00's), one a dapper Englishman, the other a group of slacker New Yorkers, both erudite, funny and cynical as hell, is an undeniably intriguing combination. My love of Elvis Costello is transferable to anyone who shares the stage with him, even if it is in a wholly corporate, contrived stunt on a late-night show. Welcome to the working week, I guess.
So I decided to partake in some good ole late-80's hip hop. A genre of which the entire breadth of my knowledge arises out of cheaply produced VH1 specials. Specials that feature too much Ken Burns-style panning in and out of photographs and way too many retrospective interviews from coked-out has-been rappers who never left that decade... The first listen was to the aforementioned Licensed to Ill, their debut on Def Jam released in 1986 and produced by Rick Rubin (the scary-looking guy fat with a full beard you sometimes see riding beach cruisers with Jay-Z. Also president of Columbia Records. Seriously.). I liked it, especially the many Led Zep samples sprinkled throughout. But then I started to see how latter "artists" (see P.O.D., Linkin Park, Offspring) interpreted this tongue-in-cheek accidental hit wholly without irony. It began to sour after that.
Next stop for me was their universally adored follow-up, Paul's Boutique. There are countless reviews out there in online-land, so I won't bore you with the details. I'll just say this: no album will ever be made quite like this one. This album literally changed the way music is made. It's sample-heavy production (by the Dust Brothers, of later Odelay fame (can't Beck do anything original?)) influenced other artists to sample in their songs. Another prolific sampler that preceded the Dust Brothers is Brian Eno. He's famous for his work with the Talking Heads, but he might be more famous in some circles for the work he did in 1981 with David Byrne, the lead singer of the Talking Heads. This strange collection of spiritual vocals (a exorcism, an apology, and other strange chanting frequent this album) played over looped samples is amazing, considering that it was recorded almost 30 years ago. You can definitely hear a lot of the Dust Brothers in Eno's album. The golden age of prolific samplers lasted only about a decade, although you could make the argument that it just got more subtle...
So these crate-digging musicians got other musicians angry (the ones whose snippets were being blatantly sampled) and they sued. Eventually, sampling became far too expensive and it was left somewhat dormant until the rise of the internet, where music samplers can get away with a lot more. Danger Mouse's (one half of Gnarls Barkley) brilliant mashup of Jay-Z's Black Album with the Beatle's White Album, aptly titled The Grey Album, comes to mind. Another recent example of this is Girl Talk. Or the Field. Or Madlib. But it will never have the organic appeal that Paul's Boutique has twenty years after its release.
Definitely a headphones album, the dense layers of sound shimmer nimbly around the sometimes shrill lyrics of Ad-Rock, MCA, and Mike D that exhibit an MF DOOM predilection for obscure pop culture references and crass proclamations. The whole album is a highlight, it's like a 53 minute love letter to funk, the 70's and NYC. These songs are standouts:
"Shake Your Rump" A nice way to kick off an album: drum roll into a funky 70's riff and the line, "My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat" Apparently true (see the video).
"High Plains Drifter" My second-favorite use of the sound of a gun cocking (next to MIA's "Paper Planes"). This song is sinister, well, a smart-ass kind of sinister. But the wordplay among the three is completely overwhelming.
"Hey Ladies" This was the one single Capitol released. I would say that it's a grandaddy to Eminiem's "one blatant single per album," but that woudn't be doing this song justice. The Dust Brothers certainly didn't substitute innovation for commercial appeal. Listen to the new funk sample after each cowbell. By this point, they're just showing off. Wow.
"Shadrach" The last full song (more on this next) begins with a rollicking beat followed by a soulful female vocal loop followed by an apt lyric, "The music washes over and you're one with the sound..." The video is also a work of art -- each frame was hand painted.
And, as if the comparisons to to the Beatles weren't already forthcoming...the album ends with a 10 minute suite (a la Abbey Road) of song snippets. Both groups are working at such a high level in these albums. The Beatles knew they had nothing more to give when they recorded Abbey Road. The Beastie Boys knew the had nothing to lose when they recorded Paul's Boutique.
This is really a heartfelt song, you can almost feel his desperation creeping into the song. I also love how he totally Elvis Costello-cizes "forever" -- they were great in concert last weekend and I'm excited to see what they come up with next.
Ok, you got me -- "Anthonio" is decidedly a male name, but I couldn't resist throwing this one in. I mean, it's by an artist with a girl's name, so close enough. This is a remix by Fred Falke, who also did an amazingly bassy, driving remix of Grizzly Bear's "Two Weeks" which I also highly recommend. His remixes seem to be very chill versions of, in Annie's case a pretty frenetic original song, and, in Grizzly Bear's case, a very very chill original. He ends up right in the middle, but I love the basslines he tosses in. I'm a sucker for bass.
Sorry, I know, another repeat-artist from recent posts. But this is the song I was listening to when I got the idea for this post, so I figured I couldn't not put it on. This is off the first NMH album, "On Avery Island," which is a much fuzzier take on their sound than "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea Is" but no less haunting.
[Preface: I guess with me lately, it's only music and science as blog post topics. It's what's keeping me together through law school. Trust me, music and science are by far the best, most interesting things I have going for me right now. You don't want posts on, say the implied obligation of good faith, or res ipsa loquiter or interpleader, do you? Didn't think so. Oh yeah, I get kind of emo in this post too. Sorry. Blame Elliot Smith. ]
One thing law school has given me is the chance to indulge in my music collection -- it's good study music! A recurring theme, when I read with my ipod on, is that my favorite albums inevitably conjure up stirring memories surrounding experiences I've had that are somehow associated with the music. I think that listening to music, like certain smells, are especially connected to memories; not always specific, sometimes just flashes of emotion.
For instance: This song by the Dirty Projectors, reminds me of walking up to my house in DC. It's summertime and I'm really happy. I can see the railing on the front steps, wrought iron and painted white and if you leaned on it, it shed paint specks with reckless abandon. The sidewalk running in front of the steps was old brick, with sporadic upheavals making it look wavy and lived-in. I miss DC and the friends I made there...
Yes, that is Billy Corgan, and yes, this is his short-lived post-Smashing Pumpkins-star-vehicle Zwan. I was obsessed with this CD in high school, specifically junior year. I can remember playing this song in my '96 Mercury Mystique while driving down the cloverleaf from 494W to Highway 100. Weird, I know...
This is the prettiest, most haunting song off of one of my favorite albums of all time. Jeff Mangum, through his band Neutral Milk Hotel captured something crazy in this album, of which this track is the title song. He wrote the album after reading the Diary of Anne Frank (hence the fan-video montage) and never recorded another album. He didn't have to. I listened to this album while driving to and from college full blast so many times, the only thing that comes to mind is the swirling snow ever-present in the UP.
Every night after dinner as a kid, my dad, sister, and I would trek down to the basement, choose from either a Tom Petty or (most often) Bruce Springsteen tape, throw it in the boom box, and dance. Whenever "Dancing in the Dark" came on, we literal-minded youngsters would dim the lights and go crazy. Writing this now, I feel full of mom's meatloaf and the euphoria of being young, not knowing that I didn't have a care in the world, but not caring.
Songs are powerful devices. We all have songs that, as the Hold Steady so aptly say, get scratched into our souls. Some conjure odd, disjointed snippets of memory, others much more. But each means something, and that's all that matters.
