In the ongoing continuing education of Steed, I recently listened to both #1 Record (1972) and Third/Sister Lovers (1978) by Big Star. My overall general assessment is that it’s just not my thing.
I get the draw of the first album, and I completely understand how Big Star and Alex Chilton influenced so many bands. “Feel” and “Don’t Lie to Me” are great songs — there’s no way I couldn’t like them. But despite not wanting to rip it out of my deck, I can’t see a point where I would ever pick #1 Record up again.
I couldn’t get into Third/Sister Lovers at all, though. I was expecting a jangly pop record, but it’s mostly ballads. Way too slow for my tastes, and just a turn I guess I wasn’t expecting after the band’s poppy debut. However, what I did get from Third was how ahead of their time Big Star really were. I can appreciate that fact, at least.
There’s one artist in particular who kept popping into my head throughout my numerous listens: Matthew Sweet. I don’t think I’m far off in saying that he was definitely influenced by Big Star, correct?
Anyway, thanks for the recommendations. If nothing else, I always enjoy listening to music that other people are fanatical about.
Now enjoy the last of artists whose names begin with the letter R, as we continue to look at songs that charted no higher than #41 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the ’80s.
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…)
It’s not something that I’m particularly proud of, and in retrospect, it was remarkably short-sighted, but when Laura Nyro, unhappy with attempts to market her as a celebrity, announced her retirement from the music business in 1971, I lost track of her until many years later. This despite the fact that she came back five years later with a brand new album called Smile *. Hell, five years is no retirement at all these days. It’s merely the normal recording cycle for major artists.
All through the late ’60s and early ’70s there was no more important musical voice in my life than that of Laura Nyro. For me, she was right up there with the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and Joni Mitchell. Still after her 1971 covers album Gonna Take A Miracle (recorded with Labelle), an album I adore, Laura left the music business, and when she came back I had moved on to other artists. It’s a damn shame, really. After Smile there was the live album Season of Lights in 1978, and Nested in 1978, and then another long break before Mother’s Spiritual in 1984. Then came Laura: Live at the Bottom Line in 1989 *, and Walk the Dog and Light the Light * in 1993. As I said, I missed a lot of great music. What’s worse is that Laura was no longer on my radar when she died of breast cancer in 1997. She was only 49 years old. Hers is a death that haunts me to this day. (more…)
Though Utopia isn’t quite to Todd Rundgren what Tin Machine was to David Bowie, there are definitely some parallels that can be drawn between the two projects. Both represented an already established artist subverting their egos to pursue a completely different musical path within a band framework, essentially giving them the freedom to establish a separate identity without the high expectations that would have been attached to their own material. Rundgren started Utopia in the early 70s as a response to all the progressive rock bands he saw getting popular at the time, and made them the over-the-top, theatrical flip side to his highly personal, quietly eccentric pop style. What’s interesting, though, is the way Utopia actually evolved over time, quickly becoming more and more commercial as Rundgren’s own material become more and more esoteric. That said, Utopia was still every bit as unpredictable as Todd Rundgren’s own career. The upside to this is that they eventually grew into being a bona fide band as opposed to a mere vanity project, but taking advantage of the freedom to do whatever the hell they wanted meant they never kept a solid audience for too long, outside of the already-devoted Rundgren aficionados. A damn shame, if you ask me, but that’s what the Popdose Guides are for, I suppose. And on that note…
Though many categorize this album as Todd Rundgren’s big leap into progressive rock, I actually hear a pretty big jazz-fusion influence here as well (Ã la Return to Forever and the like). Frank Zappa also casts a mighty shadow over the proceedings, “Freak Parade” being more or less a 10-minute Zappa pastiche. To sum it up briefly: this album is a perfectly valid exercise in prog-jazz-rock-fusion-whatever-you-wanna-call-it, mainly because the band is full of first-rate players and Rundgren makes sure to throw in some actual song-like parts amidst all the noodling. However, unless I start investing in a serious psychedelic drug habit, I can’t see this ever entering heavy rotation on my personal playlist. It’s not every day that I’ll want to sit down and listen to a half-hour piece of music, regardless of how good it is (this would be “The Ikon”), and the shortest track on the album (“Freedom Fighters”) is also the least memorable. In spite of my nitpicking, however, this is still a fascinating curio in Todd Rundgren’s discography, and definitely worth at least a cursory listen (though it takes a lot of patience to get to the good stuff). Here’s my favorite track, “Utopia Theme”. (more…)
He denies being the man who murdered love, but he is one of the men who served as a member of XTC. That’s right, he’s Andy Partridge, and this upstanding musical legend was kind enough to take on the daunting task of answering the questions of the Popdose readership…questions which, it must be said, ranged from the obscure to the ridiculous and hit virtually every spot in-between. Mr. Partridge was a gem throughout the conversation, however, and endured them all with great aplomb, never failing to come back with a witty retort.
(”You bastard” still counts as witty, right?)
Join us now as we enter into the Popdose Interview with the one and only Andy Partridge… (more…)
This week’s mixtape is Chris Hansen approved! Truly! Would Chris Hansen steer you wrong? By the way, why don’t you head into the kitchen for some sweet tea and brownies?
I gave Jules a quick once-over a little over three years ago, so I think it’s high time I spotlighted another track of Shear beauty, this one from his stellar solo debut, Watch Dog. Bearing the distinctive production stamp of Todd Rundgren as well as guitar work from Elliot Easton, Watch Dog is one of the shining gems of 1983, or as it’s more commonly known around these parts, the Best Year for Music Ever!
Besides featuring “All Through the Night,” later a top-five hit for Cyndi Lauper, Watch Dog is jam-packed with hooks and memorable tunes like “I Need It” and “She’s in Love Again.” It’s a damn shame it was only on CD for a fifth of a second; used copies, should you ever be able to find one, run upwards of $100 or more. The brightest moment on the album has to be its opener, the heartbreaking “Whispering Your Name” (download), the story of a man who discovers his lover still has another in her heart thanks to her sleeptalking. Here’s where Rundgren’s production is patently obvious, but whereas it usually tends to overpower the artist in question, with Shear it works beautifully.
Let me take a moment here to rant about record companies and their stranglehold on out-of-print masters. EMI is sitting on both Watch Dog and Shear’s second solo album, The Eternal Return (1985), letting them rot in a vault somewhere. Music consumers, especially you wonderful people who read Popdose, know how easy it would be to digitize these masters and throw them up on iTunes or Amazon. So why the delay? Especially in this economy, where the low overhead makes this a slam dunk. Argh. Drives me nuts. Rant over.
Although it was released as Watch Dog’s lead single, “Whispering Your Name” failed to chart. The album didn’t move that many copies, either, but it obviously had fans, as Lauper’s cover of “All Through the Night” proved. Another artist a decade later covered yet another song off Watch Dog, and we’ll feature it on Thursday’s Lost in the ’90s. Be here, won’t you?
To me, Todd Rundgren’s 1972 Something/Anything? is kind of the white Sign ‘O’ the Times. Like Prince’s masterwork, Rundgren’s is a sprawling, two disc, self-contained epic, bouncing from style to style and voice to voice, where pure pop pleasure press up against faux artiste spiritualism. Another thing they share is at least a couple of songs that bring a dash of creepy to the musical stew. For Prince, the weirdness surfaces via the inclusion of songs from an aborted album recorded by his female persona, Camille. In fact, the biggest hit single “U Got the Look,” is actually listed on Sign’s liner notes as a duet between Sheena Easton and Camille, not Prince.
But I’ve written about Prince just within the last couple of months, and enough ink has been spilled over the years on both His Purple Badness and this album in particular. There’s no joy in repetition of previous articles that have likely come before me. And besides, most anyone reading this is both familiar with Sign ‘O’ the Times and used to Prince’s weirdness. Rather, I’m here to focus on a couple of Rundgren’s more experimental (and creepy) tracks from the first disc of his oft-called magnum opus.
“The Day the Carousel Burnt Down” (download) starts out like a Carole King solo song, with a slow but jaunty electric piano line. It has a nice switch twice within the song from 4/4 to 3/4 time and back that feels natural and appropriate given the subject matter and arrangement.
At 1:56 at the first musical break, though, things start to get weird. The sounds in the right channel start to back off and shift to the left channel, then reverse back to the right. At 2:09, Rundgren starts to play with the tape speed slightly while he continues to make the music swirl from channel to channel–like a carousel going in a circle around its central musical source, only inverted. After a few rejoinders of the tag line, the second musical break begins in 3:20 with a another slight speed change. Then, around 3:35 a whooshing noise starts in the back, emulating a fire, and the speed changes becomes more distorted and pronounced. This continues on for another 20 seconds, until this madness sinks behind the original piano line that began the song, and plays itself out into the fade for the last half-minute. (more…)
Christmas Eve, 1970. I was at the Fillmore East to see Laura Nyro. A month earlier, Nyro had released her fourth album, Christmas and the Beads of Sweat, and it had taken up more or less permanent residence on my turntable, alongside all of her previous albums. There I was, about to see the artist whose music spoke to me more profoundly on a personal level than any other, and by my side was the woman for whom I’d been nurturing a deep crush for several years. In other words, it couldn’t have been a more perfect evening. Did I mention that it was Christmas Eve in New York City? If you’ve been there, you know the silent magic that the holy night brings to the great city.
All was right in my world, but that was certainly not true of the world as a whole. Nixon was in the White House; Vietnam was raging on. Bobby Kennedy and Dr. King were recently dead. A few lines from the album’s most powerful statement, “Christmas In My Soul,” pretty much summed up the condition of the world in those days:
“Black Panther brothers bound in jail
Chicago Seven and the justice scale
Homeless Indian on Manhattan Isle
All God’s sons have gone to trial
And all God’s love is out of style
On Christmas.”
Ah, the fourth quarter. It isn’t as much of an event as it used to be, but even as the music industry crumbles to dust before our very eyes, artists and labels continue to focus on the last few months of the year for the biggest glut of high-profile releases on the calendar, and 2008 is no exception.
Rather than punishing your eyes with a comprehensive fall music preview, or soliciting input from everyone on the staff, I decided to put together a list of the titles I’m either looking forward to (Lindsey Buckingham, Brian Wilson), need to hear to satisfy some dark, unexplained urge (Gym Class Heroes, Queen), or simply find interesting for some reason (Todd Rundgren, AC/DC). If you’ve been waiting for someone to tell you how to spend the “music” portion of your discretionary income for the next few months, look no further — without further ado, here’s my list of 21 fall releases to watch for.
In which one of country’s most freewheeling (read: consistently interesting) songwriters hooks up with Yep Roc for a song cycle that, if the press kit is to be trusted, is “about women.” You can be certain the songs do more than just live up to that simple billing, especially with titles like “The Rise and Fall of Intelligent Design” — and as an added bonus, our pal Joe Henry was behind the boards (and does a duet with Crowell on one track, “I’ve Done All That I Can”). What, you don’t like country? Yeah, me neither. But I’m buying this. (more…)
Todd Rundgren’s Utopia (1974)
(1987)
(2001)
(1981)
(2001)
(1999)
(1988)
(2002)
(2003)
(1991)
(1992)
(1975)
(1996)
(1980)
I gave Jules a quick once-over a 
or on 
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=93fbd6e6-0cac-450f-a6c0-539594c0fa7c)
To me, Todd Rundgren’s 1972 
