Saturday, June 11, 2016

Discography - Week 8

School ends and Ramadan begins, and the Discography plows forward unencumbered by the demands of the secular and sacred worlds.  Remember that next week, Week 9, we'll be taking a break from our more free-flowing approach and will be embracing a thematic week, with the theme being: Covers that are better than the original.  This week, however, we will be reveling in our usual anarchic selves.

Dave Wallace

Joseph Arthur, I Miss The Zoo 

Sometimes you get obsessed with a song, and you're not even sure why.  I discovered Joseph Arthur a few years ago, picked up a bunch of his stuff, and feel that he's a borderline genius.  For some reason, I Miss the Zoo has always knocked me out.  His wistful look back at addiction, it's an odd topic for a song, but he really captures the insanity, and the appeal, of addiction.  Plus, "psychic pretzel flying kite" is going to be the name of my future band.  To increase the level of difficulty, Arthur frequently will paint a self-portrait on stage while performing the song.  Interesting stuff.


Bob Craigmile


Led Zeppelin, BlackCountry Woman.

This is an semi-obscure song of LZ’s, probably because it has no electric guitar on it.  It’s always been intriguing to me because it’s so hard to anticipate when the bass drum will start in (sort of in between beats at around 1:30).  It also has great acoustic guitar work and of course Plant sings the fuck out of it.  His harmonica work-starting around 3:00-is amazing, and there is a bit of fun interplay with the drums shortly thereafter.  I once created an all acoustic LZ songlist for a friend who is a LZ hater (and they are legion), and this was front and center.  A perfect tight little gem of a song.

Gary Beatrice

Alabama Shakes, Hold On

I know there are better music services than I Tunes, but they were the first I discovered and I stuck with them. For many years they provided as many as a dozen free new songs weekly and I'd download every one of them. I would quickly delete the majority of the songs but a surprising number of them were quite good. This was how I first found Alabama Shakes and Hold On, and I found myself blown away almost as soon as Brittany Howard begin singing. I listened to the song a half dozen times in a row before I googled them, and until I did so I sincerely thought the lead singer was an African American man. Dave Kelley knew about them, apparently Patterson Hood had been praising them for sometime, and no wonder at that, with their strong Mussel Shoals sound that the Drive By Truckers were mining as well.

Dave Wallace argues that Howard needs a better band to reach her full potential, and that is probably a valid criticism. But she sure inspired them to soulful heights on this gem.

Dave Kelley

Los Lobos, I Walk Alone

Los Lobos is another amazing, amazing band that has not received enough attention from the public.  They are better known for the cover version of La Bamba they did for the movie than for the hundreds of great originals they have written and recorded.  They have made so much great music in a wide variety of styles ranging from rock, to blues, to folk, to traditional Mexican music and many others.  "Will the Wolf Survive", "By the Light of the Moon", and "The Neighborhood are three classic albums IMHO.  They are fronted by David Hidalgo who is just an amazing writer, singer, guitar player, and accordion player.  He and Cesar Rosas form a one two punch of blistering lead guitarists, and the rest of the band kicks ass as well.  Some of the best non-Springsteen live shows I have ever seen were Los Lobos concerts.

There were a large number of Los Lobos tunes I could have included.  Many of them are more lyrically and musically complex than the one I chose.  "I Walk Alone" is very blues influenced and just rocks out from the moment it starts.  It is on "The Neighborhood".  I was already a huge fan when that CD came out.  I remember excitedly going to the record store (back when we had record stores) and getting it on the day that it was released.  Needless to say, I played it on the way home at high volume.  The record is diverse and amazing.  I still remember the smile on my face and the burst of adrenaline in my body when the wailing guitar that begins "I Walk Alone" first blared out of my car stereo.  Damn!!!  During his shows I have heard Bruce say "I don't know much about eternal life, but I can promise that you are alive RIGHT NOW!!!!"  Every time I hear this song, I feel alive RIGHT NOW!  Nothing complex lyrically.  "I walk alone, when I don't walk with you" pretty much sums it up.  Who cares.  Great song.    

Miranda Tavares

The Delta Saints,  A Bird Called Angola

The Delta Saints is a band of recently graduated suburban college kids from Nashville, as all soul-searing, bone marrow-resonating rock/blues bands are. We first saw them during Cincinnati’s Midpoint Music Festival. It was a tiny, unassuming bar, and we had read about them, but we had never heard them before and had no idea what to expect. Even if we had, we would not have believed it.  These guys were fire and ice.

They have since changed quite a bit, replacing their harmonica player with a keyboardist. We tried to educate them on the fact that these instruments are not the same, not even similar in the audile sense, but to no avail. I am no longer the diehard fan that I once was, but I remain fiercely loyal to their first 2 EPs and first full-length album.

A Bird Called Angola is not my favorite song of theirs, although, in fairness, I would be hard-pressed to say what is. I can say with certainty that their full length album Death Letter Jubilee is well worth 17 or so repeated listens, and I probably like 90% of that album more than A Bird Called Angola. But this song is one I first heard live, the first time I heard this band, and it is the embodiment of the style of The Delta Saints. These little white boys are absolutely steeped in a gritty Delta-Blues sound, and not only do they get it, they supercharge it.  The powerful, brain-clenching vocals, the complex, invigorating harmonica, the kick-ass guitar (yeah, I ran out of adjectives) - these all define The Delta Saints and why I will always love them, despite their ignorance of the fatality adding a keyboard to their sound in this decade.

Dave Mills


This is one of those songs that just grabbed me the first time I heard it (on NPR), and it’s one I haven’t tired of listening to many times since. I frankly have no idea what most of it means, as it’s set up as the agitated ramblings of a man going through a messy breakup (at least, that’s what I assume, given the titular cocktail referenced in the lyrics). Despite its scattered nature, there’s a compelling poetry to the lyrics. One line in particular rings true for me: “Doubt comes in on sticks, but then he kicks like a horse.” The rest of it, well, it communicates a vague sense of impending disaster or something.  Whatever the case, it works for me. The heavily fuzzed guitars and the clanging industrial percussion give it real kick. The album and the song were well-received in the UK – the album won the Mercury Prize in 2008, and this track won “Best Contemporary Song” at the 2009 Brit Awards. Other than the one shining moment when it showed up on NPR for me, I can’t recall hearing it anywhere else on US radio. Did any of you?

Gary Scudder

And speaking of anarchy, well, yeah, I dropped the ball on that one.  If the Discography is teaching me anything it's how utterly out of it I am (as if I needed a reminder).

Edward Elgar, Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85

I was talking to my friend the excellent Cyndi Brandenburg and she was lamenting that there are just too many songs to consider, which is why I'm taking the approach of just writing about what I'm thinking about that week.  In my Aesthetic Expression class the other night we were discussing Elgar; well, I was discussing Elgar and my students were, at least initially, praying for the sweet release of death. I started off by playing the opening to Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance March #1 and made the comment that every student was familiar with it.  Of course, they denied that they, or anyone, had ever heard of it, which always escalates into threats, recriminations and I goad them into a bet usually associated with a mother-lode of donuts - all of which has to be completed on my part before one minute and fifty seconds in when the graduation march kicks in.  After identifying the donuts I prefer I then tell them not to worry about it because they'll never be hearing the graduation march again anyway.  We then launch into the Cello Concerto, which is just about as far removed from a jaunty march (which had been Elgar's specialty) as you can imagine, which allows me to ask them what could have possibly happened between 1901, the date of the Pomp and Circumstance #1 March, and 1919, the date of the Cello Concerto.  Fortunately there are enough students with at least some passing knowledge of history that they can identify the years of World War I.  The point is to get them to understand the role that context plays in any appreciation of art, which is always both good and bad.  In this case it's useful in that you understand what shaped the work, but can also be limiting because how can you ever listen to it without thinking of World War I (especially the students who were subjected to horrific pictures of the war, in an almost Clockwork Orange fashion, while I played the piece) and thus can't view the work on its own merits dispassionately.  The whole experience only worked to deepen my students' hatred of me because once again I'd tricked them into finding something interesting that they knew they shouldn't, which is what gets me out of bed in the morning.  The Cello Concerto itself I've always loved because while sublimely sad and historically signifcant, is just a beautiful piece.  Apparently Elgar was both a humble soul and/or under-confident because when he prepared to present the concerto he didn't have enough rehearsal time because the other composers/conductors bullied him, so that when he conducted his own concerto at its premiere it wasn't well received.  It got relegated to the trash bin of history until Jacqueline du Pre discovered it and almost single-handedly made it a standard work through her own definitive interpretation.  Her own life adds to the elegiac nature of the story because she had to give up the cello at age 27 because of advancing MS.


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