Posts Tagged ‘Popdose Flashback ‘89’

Popdose Flashback: Pixies, “Doolittle”

Pixies - DoolittlePixies – Doolittle (1989, 4AD)
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To a certain extent, Doolittle – the Pixies’ most accessible (and best-selling) album – is all about tension. The tension of band trying to continue sounding raw and dirty while being pushed to adopt a more commercial tone. The tension of a band in transition from independent to major label. The tension between two vocalists and visual foci who had very different ideas about music. The tension inherent in the band’s unique-at-the-time loud-quiet-loud song arrangements. The tension between melody and abrasion, tunefulness and distortion, punk rock and surf rock, male and female…you get it.

The Pixies – singer/guitarist Black Francis (Charles Thompson, aka Frank Black), bassist/singer Kim Deal, guitarist Joey Santiago and drummer David Lovering – were the uber-college rock band of the ‘80s. Francis and Santiago met at college (UMass). They formed a band a couple of years later (circa 1986) in the quintessential college town of Boston, which, as you’d expect, is where they played most of their early gigs. Even their sound and style – especially on Doolittle – were tailor-made for the nascent “college rock” moniker and scene: not punk enough to be truly underground, and not commercial enough for mainstream radio.

Coming after the raw sonic blast of the Steve Albini-produced Surfer Rosa (my own personal favorite Pixies recording, natch, with its heavy but wide-ranging sound), Doolittle sounds positively clean cut. Chalk it up to either British producer Gil Norton (hired at the “suggestion” of the Pixies’ then-label chief, Ivo Watts-Russell), a quadrupled recording budget of $40,000, or both, but the “listenability” of Doolittle compared to the band’s earlier output is in no small part due to such material as “Here Comes Your Man,” “Monkey Gone to Heaven” (to date the only Pixies song to feature strings…though it’s Francis’ screamed “Then GOD is SEVEN/HEAVEN” line that gets me very time) and “La La Love You.” Even less overtly poppy numbers like “Gouge Away,” “Silver” and “Hey” suggest a much-toned down Pixies when compared to, say, “Something Against You” from their previous album. (more…)

Popdose Flashback: Beastie Boys, “Paul’s Boutique”

flashback89

When Licensed to Ill shocked everyone by becoming the biggest-selling rap album of all time (until MC Hammer snatched the title a couple years later), no one expected the Beastie Boys to have a second act. Their juvenile frat-boy schtick didn‘t exactly scream “staying power,“ nor did the novelty of white dudes rapping.

Twenty years later, the Beasties are legendary pioneers who will probably be inducted into the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame in a year or two, but ’twas a time when people thought that Paul’s Boutique, the Beasties’ 1989 sophomore effort, ended the band’s career. After all, Licensed to Ill spent weeks at #1, while Paul’s Boutique didn’t even crack the Top 10. The album was deliberately non-commercial — way too dense to get anywhere near pop radio. However, in the two decades since its release, Paul’s Boutique has been acknowledged as a modern classic, not to mention the best album in what has become a legendary career. Its use of samples was nothing short of revolutionary, raising the eyebrows of more “traditional” hip-hoppers, who suddenly found themselves intensifying their crate-digging for the perfect beats to slice and dice. The album also can be credited with paving the way for modern-day cut and paste heroes like Girl Talk.

So, let’s backtrack a bit. After the phenomenal success of Licensed to Ill, the Beasties — King Ad-Rock/Adam Horovitz, MCA/Adam Yauch and Mike D(iamond) — found out they were being royally fucked by their label, Def Jam, and after some litigation, were freed from their contract and wound up signed to Capitol Records. Parting ways acrimoniously with their original producer, Rick Rubin (who catches a sideways diss on the track “Car Thief“), they split from their NYC homebase and headed west to L.A., hooking up with newbie production team the Dust Brothers. That California sunshine (and more than likely, that California bud) obviously paid dividends, because Paul’s Boutique is one of the biggest artistic steps forward a band has ever taken between first and second albums. Despite the fact that the album was recorded on the Left Coast, Paul’s Boutique practically reads as a love letter to the Big Apple. From the 808 thump of “Hello Brooklyn” (later resurrected as one of Jay-Z’s many odes to the borough) to the various local references on “Stop That Train” (both part of the astonishing 15-minute medley “B-Boy Bouillabaisse“), this album is so New York you can almost smell the piss on the sidewalk on the corner of Ludlow and Rivington Streets, where the cover photograph was taken. (more…)

Popdose Flashback: Rush, “Presto”

It wasn’t their best album. It wasn’t even much like what people consider their best album. Yet the mighty Canadian power trio Rush found themselves on Atlantic Records with a producer known mostly for working with The Fixx and Tina Turner. It was in many ways a fresh start and, true to the band’s nature, they made the most of it.

Lyricist/drummer Neil Peart always had a knack for wordplay, but quite often that was the lyrical crux of the song, with no specific aim attached. On Presto, the seeds of his political nature were finally starting to bloom. “War Paint” fleshes out the angst of teenage life in a hostile adult world, a direct graduation from “Subdivisions.” The very specific “Red Tide” spurs on an ecology-mindedness the listener kind of knew was there but couldn’t precisely summarize. The kickoff “Show Don’t Tell” went to number #1 on the rock charts.

Perhaps it was producer Rupert Hine’s pop polish that made everything so much more palatable than their hard-rock roots, but this is exactly what you get – a great pop album. Alex Lifeson’s guitar is still powerful but not “tear-the-roof-off,” especially with the chorus pedal so often processing the sound. Geddy Lee still plays the bass like few can, but it’s lower in the mix, and the keyboards are higher. The album has the dubious distinction of holding one of the band’s worst songs, the craptacular “Scars,” but also contains two of their prettiest offerings. First, the title track, which illustrates a person’s desire to make everything better in the face of being completely unable to do so. The word “presto” is never uttered in the song, but the key lyric, “If I could wave my magic wand,” really crystallizes that harsh middle ground between intention and ability. It also touches a major Peart theme – no magician or rock star is going to make your miracle happen for you. You must wrestle with the responsibility of your own life. (more…)