(podcast available here –
originally broadcast Dec-10-2011) All comments are from Philip Random's notes. The full countdown list (so far) can be found here.
1048.
Nocturnal Emissions - never
give up
By the time we hit 1985,
everyone knew someone who was dying of the big disease with a little name (as
Prince called it), even if we didn't actually know they had it. People tended to keep that a secret if
they could. Maybe it was an uncle,
or a guy we went to school with, a friend, a brother. It was almost always a guy. Anyway, where there's sickness, there's songs of hope, even
if there is no hope, which seemed to be the case with AIDS in 1985. A death sentence all the way. And yet we're human, so we never give
up. Some of us anyway.
1046.
Pop Will Eat Itself - not now James, we're busy
Decades tend to end well, musically speaking, except the
90s. That was a mess. In the 80s, we had hip-hop colliding
with everything that had become boring (even punk rock), setting music free in
all kinds of unimaginably cool ways.
As Pop Will Eat Itself said in an early song, "Bring a beatbox and
make a garage racket." This
one seems to concern James Brown, whose beats everyone was stealing at the
time. Meanwhile he was having a
bit of a midlife crisis, assaulting cops, going on high speed chases, ending up
in jail.
1044.
Emerson Lake + Palmer -
tiger in a spotlight
ELP blew it big time in
1977. While the cool world went
punk and the smooth world went disco, they just went DUMB, dumped a massive
double album on the world that nobody wanted, then took a symphony orchestra on
tour with them and lost millions.
By the time they hit Vancouver, they'd dumped the orchestra, so it was
mostly just prolonged wanking with occasional explosions – bass, drums, enough
keyboards and synthesizers to change the world (assuming they were in the right
hands – they weren't). And yet, in
the midst of it all, there were these crazy, freaked out sort of barrelhouse
boogies going down, suggesting a whole other possible history for mankind.
1043.
Rich Wakeman - White Rock
From a soundtrack album for a
movie concerning the 1976 Winter Olympics that nobody ever saw. Rick Wakeman (wearer of shimmering
capes, former keyboard God from prog rock superheroes Yes) never played a bum
note, which unfortunately didn't guarantee ego-free genius, except
occasionally, like White Rock (the song) which was required listening whenever
the parents were out and you could finally crank the stereo as the gods
intended, test those woofers. Blow
the f***ers! Then blame your little brother who got so drunk he doesn't remember anything anyway.
1041.
Dr John - Babylon
Babylon being a city-state in Ancient Mesopotamia that
lasted more than 2000 years before finally dissolving into the sands of time,
just as the great powers of NOW inevitably shall … if you believe your
Rastafarianism. So yeah, there's
all kinds of apocalypse tied up in Babylon, including the name, root of babble
(a state in language acquisition, during which an infant appears to be
experimenting with uttering sounds of language, but not yet producing any
recognizable words). Chaos in a
word, except it might mean something … kind of like this song.
1039.
Keith Richard - the harder
they come
Keith Richard's so cool he can
stumble into a studio in a heroin haze, fumble through a reggae classic that no
white man has any business even touching – and actually deliver something worth listening to many years later. I have
no idea how this 1978 single ended up in my collection. I'm guessing I grabbed it from a
freebie pile in early 90s (there were a lot of those at the time). A few years
later, it got stuck on a fave mixtape -- after midnight stuff, for when
the hard lines are all blurring but you still need something genuinely human to
hang on to.
1036.
Boo Radleys - Barney ... and
me
What's the word for that
strange place where unbounded joy crashes into the reality of gravity, and
profound dimensions of what can only be called beauty get released? The Boo Radleys music was full of
it. Case in point Barney and Me
-- great weeping melodies, charging guitars, spiraling keyboards … flutes. From the aptly named Giant Steps, as good an album as 1993 laid on the
world. So good I had to get it on
vinyl, which was a serious rarity by then.
1035.
Manfred Mann's Earth Band -
joybringer
Want an irresistibly affirming
melody? Rip off one of the
classics. In this case, it's
Manfred Mann (between Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen fixations) having his way
Gustav Holst's Jupiter Bringer of Jollity. Who says there was nothing to smile about in 1973?
1034.
Dexy's Midnight Runners -
tell me when my light turns green
I was eyeballing this album for
a long time before I actually heard it.
Nerdy teenage schoolboy looking straight into the camera while behind
him, younger kids get hustled out of the way – everybody visibly shaken by
something bad. A terror bomb
in Northern Ireland?
Probably. And then there
was the title: Searching for the Young Soul Rebels. What exactly was a young soul rebel? In my mind, I guess I was. I was certainly young, maybe twenty at time, and I wasn't
exactly a punk (didn't go in for the extreme fashion), definitely wasn't a
hippie (they'd all gotten sloppy and embarrassing by 1980), and the so-called
New Wave stuff was always a bit too … something. But I definitely had my grievances with the way of the world. So yeah, maybe I was this other thing – a young soul
rebel. Only later did I discover
that it was a term associated with the British Northern Soul scene of the 1960s (hence the
Dexy's part of the band's name – popping Dexedrine to keep going all
night). But I was past my rebel
phase by then anyway. Rebellion was a 60s thing. I was a Resister now, because that's what the 80s were about
really. Resisting all the
bullshit.
1033.
Steppenwolf - monster
[RandoEDIT]
I would've been eleven or
twelve. My friend Peter's older
brother had joined one of those record clubs, got ten albums for a dollar and
he hated this one, so he passed it down.
The lead off track was an epic about a monster called America that was
eating its children. Shove it up
next to the Vietnam War (ongoing), all the riots and protests on TV, what had
just gone down in Kent State … and a picture started to present itself to my
puny little mind.
1029.
Red Guitars - good
technology
This comes from my early radio
days (1983). Just a good, solid
song singing the praises of technology (with tongue firmly in cheek). In a better world, it would've been a
huge hit and we'd all be sick to death of it by now. The secret of course is in the band's name. The RED guitars. They were serious about their left-side
politics and not about to cut any deals with the sly cannibals who ran the
music biz.
1028.
Queen - drowse
Queen wasn't all fantasy even
as they were going mid-70s megaHUGE.
Case in point, Drowse – a song about being young, depressed, going nowhere but the darkest depths of your room. Like something Brian
Wilson and David Bowie would've come up with if they'd ever managed to write a
song together.
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