This is a series I began on my blog, Wings for Wheels, a few years ago under the awkward title Songs I Never Get Tired Of. When I begged asked Jeff Giles if I could move it over to Popdose, I also asked if he had a better name. He came up with Infinite Play, which is, um, infinitely superior. I guess that’s why he’s in charge.
Essentially, this column will look at a different song each week, but unlike, say, Scott Malchus’ incredibly moving Basement Songs, I won’t be dealing with my personal connections to the songs. There will be some of that in there, but, for the most part, I’ll be focusing more on the songwriting aspects, breaking down crucial parts of the music and lyrics to get a better understanding of why, in the words of Craig Finn, certain songs get so scratched into our souls.
Although I have yet to purchase it, the new Big Star box set (thanks in part to Ken Shane’s excellent review) has put that much-celebrated, little-heard band into my head over the past week. But while the first song of the new Infinite Play series is on that set, it’s not by the seminal power pop band, but by founding member Chris Bell. “You and Your Sister” was originally the B-side to “I Am The Cosmos,” the only solo release by Bell in his lifetime.
The song functions as a sort of response to Alex Chilton’s classic “Thirteen,” from Big Star’s debut, #1 Record. Both are gentle acoustic ballads and are even in the same key (Bb, played in G with capos on the third fret). I don’t know if that was intentional on Bell’s part, but it does help in understanding why Chilton and Bell were such a perfect match for each other. Let’s look at the second verse of both songs. (more…)
Rhino Records laid off a lot of people two weeks ago. Some think the company is dead, while others, including former Popdose staffer/new Rhino guy John C. Hughes, implore us to be patient. As the poet said, “Time will tell just who has fell, and who’s been left behind …” But no matter what happens going forward, I hold in my hands a box set that will become part of the awesome Rhino legacy, and further confirm that Rhino is/was one of the last great record labels.
Big Star: Keep an Eye on the Sky is the shit, that thing the fanboys have been waiting more than 30 years for. It’s the validation, the vindication. It’s the drug, so open your veins, because now when your friends look at you blankly when you mention Big Star, you can sit them down, stick this in, all 98 tracks spread over four discs, hand them the beautiful 100-page booklet that comes with the set, and wait for them to finally acknowledge you as the trendsetter that you’ve always thought yourself to be.
That booklet I mentioned is as good a place to start as any. As usual, Rhino didn’t just dig up a bunch of moldy photos and hire some hacks to write trite copy. Following opening remarks from Ardent Studios owner and producer John Fry, we’re treated to a wonderful essay by noted Memphis musicologist Robert Gordon. Gordon gives us an oversight, the crucial details of Big Star’s career, such as it was. The story begins in Memphis in 1971 with creation of the band’s original lineup of Alex Chilton and Chris Bell on guitars, Jody Stephens on drums, and Andy Hummel on bass. The brilliant first album, #1 Record, that went nowhere. The departure, and later the death of Big Star co-founder Chris Bell. The even more brilliant second album, 1974’s Radio City, that once again got lost in the music business shuffle. The fateful decision to try one more time, the result being an album, Third/Sister Lovers, so dark and so fragile, that it wouldn’t be released for four years, and then only by a label, PVC, that had little to lose. (more…)
A little over a year ago, the possibility of a Phish reunion was the stuff of parking lot rumor and message board postings. When they took the stage at Hampton back in March and played those opening notes to “Fluffhead,” 2009 officially became the year of Phish.
Somehow, between jamming with Bruce Springsteen at Bonnaroo and playing consistently sold-out nights, they managed to record a new album with old friend Steve Lilywhite. Joy is their first studio outing since the weary Undermind back in 2004. (more…)
Who doesn’t love The Wizard of Oz? (That was a rhetorical question. Put your hands and middle fingers down.)
Last week in Bootleg City, to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the classic MGM film about a girl named Dorothy and her three bachelor uncles, I put together a special outdoor screening in MacArthur Park. To make it even more special, I trucked in a bunch of poppies and planted them right in front of the screen.
Unfortunately, almost as soon as Leo the Lion finished roaring, people started passing out left and right. It turns out those poppies were opium poppies, just like in the movie. But can you really blame me for thinking sleep-inducing flowers were a fictional device created specifically for the film? Honestly! Munchkins? Flying monkeys? A land where gay men are granted basic human rights? All that stuff is make-believe!
But opium poppies, as it turns out, are real. And now I’ve accidentally put 2,000 taxpayers in a coma. And when they wake up, most of them will be opium addicts.
Hmm … I wonder if I can keep them asleep until after November 3. I have a feeling a few of them might not vote for me if they wake up in time for the election.
Posies don’t have opium in them, do they? Good. Because this week the featured bootleg is “The Last Show,” a document of the Posies’ farewell performance on September 19, 1998, at San Francisco’s Bottom of the Hill. Of course, the Seattle power-pop group then reunited in 1999, 2000, 2001, and every year after that, culminating in 2005 with the release of their first album in seven years, Every Kind of Light.
When the economy’s bad, crime get worse. That’s why I decided to hire a new lawman to clean up this one-horse-because-of-all-the-horse-thieves town.
I know what you’re thinking: “It’s called Bootleg City. If you outlaw the outlaws and start doing everything by the book, aren’t you defeating the purpose of the place? Isn’t there some sort of town charter you’d be violating? Seriously, Mr. Mayor, how stupid can you be?” The thing is, I agree with you. (Well, except for that rude rhetorical question you tacked onto the end of your thought. That seemed unnecessary.) After all, the welcome sign at the edge of town says the following: BOOTLEG CITY — A PLACE FOR BOOTLEGGERS AND SCOUNDRELS AND EVEN RAPISTS, AS LONG AS IT’S JUST THE VIKING KIND OF RAPE WHERE YOU WANTONLY DESTROY THE LAND, BUT BE A DEAR AND JUST DESTROY THE POOR SIDE OF TOWN, OKAY? WE’VE BEEN MEANING TO LAY WASTE TO THAT EYESORE FOR YEARS NOW. THANKS, AND ENJOY YOUR STAY!
Eventually we got the whole thing sorted out and had a few laughs about it. He told me I was his new favorite waste of time, so I told him rape was my favorite waste of time but go-nowhere interviews were a close second. At that point he started looking for the door and said he had to get to the hotel and take a shower before his show.
Musicians are so hard to read. Maybe I just need new glasses.
“What’s that? You’ve named it already?” Peter Holsapple asked, attempting to share Chris Stamey’s between-songs mutterings with the audience at McCabe’s Guitar Shop in Santa Monica last Friday night. After a few more mumbles from his partner, Holsapple officially introduced the crowd to the retro condenser mic at center stage: “We’re calling her ‘Old Betty.’”
Welcome to the ramshackle, utterly charming onstage world of Holsapple & Stamey, circa 2009. Their place in the pantheon long since secure, the two indie-rock progenitors (once and, apparently, future co-leaders of the dB’s) are back on the road with nothing to prove, but a new set of amiable songs to work into the repertoire. They recently released their second album as a duo, Here and Now, on the Bar/None label; it comes a mere 17 years after they flew in the face of grunge with their beloved, stripped-down Mavericks LP. Yes, they were mavericks when mavericks were cool (before a certain Alaskan claimed the mantle) – but now they’re content to pretend, as they do on the new album’s title track, that their greatest ambition is to avoid screwing up: “If there ever was a show/We could not afford to blow to bits/We could always hire some counterfeits/To do that show.”
“Here and Now” serves as the perfect introduction to Holsapple & Stamey’s lighthearted, self-effacing duo aesthetic; indeed, if there were a market for a sitcom featuring a pair of aging rockers good-naturedly barnstorming the land – a gender-redefined, hipster Golden Girls, if you will – then “Here and Now” would be its theme song. It led off the McCabe’s concert, which also featured sterling (if shambolic) renditions of album cuts “Santa Monica,” “Early in the Morning” and “Widescreen World.” Stamey also sang Big Star alum Chris Bell’s “I Am the Cosmos,” and the duo covered Family’s prog-rock fave “My Friend the Sun,” which opens the Here and Now album.
“Our label tells us that if we sell enough copies of the new album on CD, they’ll release it on vinyl!” Holsapple enthused at one point Friday night. Holsapple & Stamey have been around long enough to see traditions like album-release orders turned on their heads; thankfully, as they’ve proved on this mini-tour, other traditions – like the sound of two friends harmonizing around a condenser mic – can always pick up exactly where they left off. (more…)
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Although I have yet to purchase it, the new Big Star box set (thanks in part to Ken Shane’s excellent review) has put that much-celebrated, little-heard band into my head over the past week. But while the first song of the new Infinite Play series is on that set, it’s not by the seminal power pop band, but by founding member Chris Bell. “You and Your Sister” was originally the B-side to “I Am The Cosmos,” the only solo release by Bell in his lifetime.
Last week in Bootleg City, to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the classic MGM film about a girl named Dorothy and her three bachelor uncles, I put together a special outdoor screening in MacArthur Park. To make it even more special, I trucked in a bunch of poppies and planted them right in front of the screen.
Even so, crime is out of control here, so I’ve started interviewing candidates for the job of police chief (and judge, jury, and executioner if they have a talent for multitasking). Unfortunately, due to a nearsighted oversight on my part, I misread the caption on one particular photograph attached to a candidate’s resumé and ended up scheduling an interview with a guy named 
“What’s that? You’ve named it already?” Peter Holsapple asked, attempting to share Chris Stamey’s between-songs mutterings with the audience at McCabe’s Guitar Shop in Santa Monica last Friday night. After a few more mumbles from his partner, Holsapple officially introduced the crowd to the retro condenser mic at center stage: “We’re calling her ‘Old Betty.’”
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soundtrack (1996)