(Broadcast Feb-18-2012 - podcast available here).
All comments are from Philip Random's notes. The full countdown list (so far) can be found here.
Links are not necessarily to the exact same recordings that got played
on-air, but we tried. We also tried to link to things that don't have
commercials attached to them, but that changes sometimes with YouTube.
924/923.
Prince - computer blue + Darling Nikki
921.
Ultravox - western promise
By 1980, so-called New Wave was working
through about its ninth mutation.
In the case of Ultravox, this meant parting ways with original front man
John Foxx, hooking up with new guy Midge Ure and going distinctly pompously
Modern with a monster album called Vienna. There really isn't a weak track on it. Some dumb lyrics, for sure, but the
feel of the thing, the sharp, pristine elegance of it took you to some fresh
and beautiful places.
920.
Yes - astral traveller
Yes were still just wannabe contenders in
1970 (a guitar genius and a keyboard wizard short of achieving true escape
velocity), like future teenagers drunk on stolen psychedelics, joyriding in
dad's spaceship, failing to get the damned thing off the ground, but somehow
beautiful anyway.
918.
KC + the Sunshine Band - I get lifted
Disco didn't really SUCK until Saturday
Night Fever came along. Until
then, it was just this sort of funk music that was easy to dance to, and girls
seemed to like it. But it
was nothing to base a culture on, or even a night on the town. Not that there weren't a few genuinely
cool tracks, like this one from KC and the Sunshine Band's first album.
917.
Midnight Oil - sometimes
London, 1989. I'm a long way from home, out of money, lonely as hell, but
it's a nice day so I'm out walking the Strand, my Sony Walkman booming in my ears (a mixtape c/o DJ
Rockin' Patrick) and what should pop up but Midnight Oil's
"Sometimes", not even a favourite really, but holy shit, it's the
right thing right now, a rousing anthem to resistance. Let the powers-that-be unleash their
violence, push us to the wall, beat us to pulp, we WON'T give in. And then I'm looking up at all these
centuries old monuments, statues of respected gentlemen who no doubt did their
bit to crush the poor, the meek, the hungry, the foreign, all for the greater
greed of EMPIRE, and then I'm laughing because I realize they're all covered in
pigeon shit.
916.
Midnight Oil - best of both worlds
Midnight Oil didn't just wear their
progressive politics on their sleeve in the mid-80s. Their front man Peter Garrett actually ran for the
Australian Senate, almost won. Red
Sails At Sunset was their album of the moment (telling big scary, ugly truths
about racism, nuclear apocalypse, environmental catastrophe), with Best Of Both
World slotting in as alternative national anthem for the great south land. I'd stand for it.
914.
Donovan - hey gyp (dig the slowness)
The image is of a back country Scottish dude
trying to do an early-Dylan-beat-vagabond thing in mid-60s Britain, then
stumbling into swinging London just in time to catch things going all hip and
psychedelic. He tries to make
sense of it, ends up digging the slowness.
911.
John Kongos - he's gonna step on you
again
Another trip to Britain, mid-90s this
time. I end up in the town of
Nottingham like a chunk of some lost century that got swallowed by the
industrial revolution and never fully digested, everything dim with smoke and
grime and wreaking despair. Or
maybe it was just shitty weather.
Eventually, I'm getting drunk at a pub that feels at least five hundred
years old, hooking up with some cool young strangers, and suddenly I'm in love
with life all over again, particularly once the DJ drops this beauty on. From 1971, a guy from South Africa
apparently.
910.
Sonic Youth - kissability
If you've been paying attention to these
notes, you've probably got it figured out that the late 80s were a low point
for me. Health, finances, love,
everything crashing and burning in prolonged slow motion. Call it the Winter of Hate. The lowest point would've been around
Christmas, 1988. I'm sick, back at
my parents, flat on my back in my room for at least a week, with barely enough
energy to get up once every twenty minutes to play another side of Sonic
Youth's Daydream Nation, THE GREATEST ALBUM EVER. It certainly was at the time.
909.
Mothers of Invention - trouble comin'
every day
Los Angeles, August, 1965. The Watts Neighbourhood. A riot breaks out that lasts for five
days, kills thirty-four people. A
year later, young Frank Zappa files his report in straight up garage blues form
on 1966's Freak Out! Still
shockingly ahead of its time.
908.
Sir Douglas Quintet + 2 - can you dig my
vibrations?
Take a 60s Texas bad boy
who really just wanted to be a Beatle, dump him into Summer of Love
Haight-Ashbury while on the run from a marijuana bust and you've got a recipe
for some pretty serious vibrations.
Man. Serious enough to
percolate through the decades and finally find me in fall 1999, stoned, on some
un-named isolated island.
Seriously wondering if the world was going to end at midnight, New Years
Eve. Half-seriously anyway. It settled me. The song that is.
906.
Arthur Louis - knockin' on heaven's door
Bob Dylan's all-time greatest dying cowboy
song goes to Jamaica and makes perfect sense (with Eric Clapton filling in a few gaps). Does anything more need to be said?
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