A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to see David Byrne live in concert. It was purported to be a celebration of the work he did with Brian Eno, famed producer and musical renegade, encompassing Eno’s production on classic Talking Heads albums as well as their collaborations like My Life In The Bush of Ghosts and a new, currently digital-only release Everything That Happens Will Happen Today. The show was composed of Byrne, a backing band, a trio of backup singers and a trio of interpretive dancers, and while that sounds like a bad, pretentious idea the whole thing came off very entertaining and ended up being a fine night of live music.

Another big plus was the lack of squirrels in the road. Come on, if you go to see bands with an extensive and memorable back-catalog you know about the squirrels. A pace is building, the classics are rolling out and the audience is having a grand old time, then suddenly the performer announces, “We’d like to play something from our new album” and suddenly it’s all screeching brakes and momentum sliding to a halt. Damn squirrels, they’ll do it every time.

That’s what’s so great about the new collaboration: nary a squirrel to be found. All the songs, even if they’re not immediate attention-getters, are very good and surprisingly song-like. I hesitate to use the word ‘conventional’ because it would tend to paint Everything That Happens… as by-the-numbers, which it definitely isn’t. These songs sat side by side with tunes like “I, Zimbra,” “Once In A Lifetime,” and even “Help Me Somebody” and never interrupted the flow, never incurred massive pee-breaks and beer raids. The album is an album, and not an excuse to tour based around weak product, thank God.

The story goes like this: Byrne found himself in the company of Eno unexpectedly, as both hadn’t co-created in awhile. Eno, over the years, made his bones by becoming an ambient artist as well as the big-time producer of several classic albums, including U2’s The Joshua Tree. Byrne mixed his sound with massive multiculturalism and founded the Luaka Bop label. Now here they were in the company of each other and the inevitable happened: one asked the other if they were up for doing something. The result? Eno sent Byrne some instrumentals he had worked up, yet these frames were distinctively song-based. (more…)

Zack Dennis: Every time I get hooked in by Pete Townsend’s synthesizers, I feel kind of silly. And yet it always happens. While I’d rather listen to the entirety of Quadrophenia rather than any particular single by the Who, the singles almost universally have the capacity to cheer me up and this one is no exception.

Jason Hare: I’m on a lot of Who discussion groups, and Face Dances is generally regarded at the band’s worst studio album — ranked worse than ’82’s It’s Hard — but I quite like it. Perhaps Bill Szymczyk (you know how hard it is to Google that name when you don’t know how to spell it?) wasn’t the best producer for The Who (just as Kenney Jones wasn’t the best choice of drummer), but he helped them create a sound that accurately heralded in The Who 2.0, post Keith Moon. “You Better You Bet” is a ridiculously stupid song but I love it anyway. I love how Pete’s vocals are omnipresent, and Roger sings with fantastic attitude that, for one of the first times, just doesn’t translate to “I’m angry.” (See just about any track from Who Are You).

Ted Asregadoo: Man, I loved this song when it came out — and then I bought the cassette and wanted to return it because I thought someone was playing a joke on me. I mean, yeah, there was this gem and “Another Tricky Day,” but what about everything in between? I thought some smelly socks idiot at the mastering lab dubbed in a bunch of songs from … well, I had no idea where because, to me, it wasn’t the Who singing “Cache Cache” and the other forgettable songs, it was some group who sounded like the Who trying to foist dung on me while calling it prime rib. But hey, who doesn’t love Townshend missing his vocal cue and smiling at his mistake?

Dw. Dunphy: I was as surprised as anyone when longtime Eagles producer Bill Szymczk ended up as the Who’s choice for Face Dances. Yet when you backtrack, it actually makes a little sense. Leaving their comfy home of MCA Records, this was their first Warners release, all old-timers were feeling pinched to prove they still could turn the charts their way and they had the huge hurdle of overcoming Keith Moon’s death. Of course a “hitmaker” was called in, and this is exactly what was expected. “You Better You Bet” is bouncy, snarly, a little dirty and has major hookitude. Townshend employed most of those same hooks on the superior “Let My Love Open The Door.” (more…)

Has this ever happened to you?

You’ve bought a new album. You put it on and hit “play,” and as it’s playing, you find that you’re enjoying it well enough, but it’s not really grabbing you…until, suddenly, the album hits a particular song, and - bam! - you’re in love. You play the song again. Damn, that’s good. And now that your ears are open, you find yourself wondering if the remainder of the album is just as good, so you let it continue playing…and you find that, yes, it is! Then, you realize that you need to go back and start the record over from the beginning, since you weren’t really paying enough attention when it first started….and, holy crap, you must’ve been drunk or something, because it’s so obvious to you now that this entire album is brilliant!

That, in a nutshell, is what I experienced when I first heard The Devlins’ “Alone in the Dark,” and it’s how their debut album, Drift, became one of my favorite albums of 1993.

“Alone in the Dark” is, for my money, one of the sexiest and most sensual songs ever written. It has been included on many a mix tape over the years…though, of course, the only one that matters is the one I made for my wife when we first started dating, and any claims to the contrary are damned dirty lies. (Today is our seventh wedding anniversary, as it happens. Happy anniversary, sweetheart!)

It’s a song which begs to be on the soundtrack to a romantic movie, playing as the couple you’ve been rooting for throughout the entire film finally comes together, and if you don’t believe me, just read these lyrics:

I feel the storm, but it’s so strange
To feel desire without the pain
And I feel your eyes search my soul
For sometime sacred, for something more than you need

So tell me what you feel
Tell me every little thing
Tell me all that you are now
And tell me what it’s like to see
From your own heart
Now I’ve got you…alone in the dark

Goosebumps, I tells ya. Goosebumps!

(more…)

DOWNLOAD THE FULL MIX HERE

After hurricane Gustav, I was deluged with a few emails from the American Red Cross asking for donations (both monetary and otherwise) to help out in the relief efforts.  And yes, they were asking for blood donations - which made me start thinking of a certain Pete Townshend song.  Pete’s song dovetailed into searching for other songs that either have blood in the title or mention blood in the lyrics, and here we have today’s “Bloody Hell” mix.

“Give Blood,” Pete Townshend (download)

Because this is the song that started me thinking about this mix, why not put it first? I did see the film White City when it was released in ‘85, and had a tough time following the storyline, but I’ve always had a fondness for this solo album — even though it feels incomplete. It’s like Pete had these grand plans for a rather lengthy project and then scaled it back to a collection of songs that, while very good at times, seem like they were part of a larger narrative. (more…)

One of my favorite Popdose experiences to date came in the wake of Part 9 in our colleague Dave Steed’s wonderful “Bottom Feeders” series. He had identified his first CD purchase, and dozens of his readers spontaneously took the opportunity to share their firsts — CDs, LPs, singles, MP3s, etc. In a shameless attempt to replicate the Kumbaya togetherness of that key moment in Popdose history, I’m launching an occasional series inviting readers to share your experiences as fans, haters, critics and/or ignorers of some of the greatest acts in rock history.

The rules will be simple. Every few weeks I’ll choose an act, offer up a story about a particular song that has affected me, and then open up the request lines for you to talk about a song by the same act that has affected you, positively or negatively. (If you’d like to suggest an act for a future column and offer your own story – in essence, to take over the column for a week – please write me at jon.) I’m counting on you all; if you don’t play along, I’ll kill the column and I’ll be very, very disappointed in you.

Starting things off with an easy one, this week’s artist is U2, the song (for me) is “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For,” and here’s my story:

On March 9, 1987, I was a senior at Northwestern relaxing through the “study period” preceding winter-quarter exam week. I’d slept in that morning, and was walking into town (that’s Evanston, IL, for the uninitiated) just before lunchtime for my Tuesday ritual of checking out the new album releases at Vintage Vinyl. I had just descended the steps in front of Northwestern’s somewhat-famed clock tower when a black, late-model sports car pulled up in front of me and the driver yelled, “Cumshot!”

Now, only one guy had the Bush-ian temerity to nickname me “Cumshot,” or “Cumquat,” or “Cummilingous,” or choose your favorite: my friend/rival John Heilemann. John usually, but not always, got the better of me in our continual attempts to one-up each other as budding journalists, but he and I shared a giddy devotion to riding the crest of the pop-culture zeitgeist. So I walked up to the passenger window and Heilemann simply said, “Get in. I got it.”

“It,” of course, was The Joshua Tree, and Heilemann had gotten to the store first (bastard!). (more…)

DOWNLOAD THE FULL MIX HERE

You what song I can’t get out of my mind? “Mambo No. 5.” And really it’s only the part of the song where he says “The trumpet! The trumpet!” If there’s a perfume called “Essence of Hell No. 5″ Lou Bega is certainly the creator of it. I can’t stand the song, but what do I listen for? Yep, “The trumpet! The trumpet!” I hate you Lou! But I’m grateful, too. Simply because Lou gave me an idea for a mix. Yes, “Mambo No. 5″ made me start thinking of pop songs where the trumpet takes a solo, and once I started down that road, well the following mix fell into place pretty quickly. Enjoy!

“Handlebars,” Flobots

From Denver, this band is one of those rare acts who was helped by radio — before they got signed to a major label. How often does that happen in this day and age? I started hearing this tune on my local modern rock station in San Francisco a couple of month ago, and was struck by the clever way the band blends musical styles. The are also noted for their commitment to social activism and progressive causes. Trumpet solo by Joe Ferrone. (more…)

Hiya kids! This week I have a guest DJ mixin’ it up for you. Jack Feerick wrote a great Popdose Guide to Traffic and, unsatisfied with lack of music love drummers usually get, has put together an eclectic Mix Six featuring some very imaginative rhythms. Before we get started, an obligatory drummer joke:

A man walks into a shop and says to the shop assistant: “Excuse me, I’d like to buy a guitar pick, and some strings.”

The shop assistant looks uncomprehendingly at his customer, and says “Pardon?”

“I’d like a guitar pick please, and some strings.”

The shop assistant thinks on this for a while, and then turns to his customer and says “You’re a drummer, aren’t you?”

“Yeah! How did you know, man?”

“This is a fish and chip shop.”

And now, on with the show! Take it away, Jack.

–Py Korry

DOWNLOAD THE FULL MIX HERE

I’ve played with a lot of drummers, and they’ve all had a drum key — but I don’t think I’ve ever seen one actually using it. Good tuning, though, can turn a well-played drum part into not just a hook, but a melodic hook. To wit, here are six tunes where the drums sing.

A note: I’m disqualifying Phil Collins from this list, because (a) everybody hates Phil Collins, and (b) despite his considerable flaws as a songwriter, personality, and human being, he is an absolute ace at making the drums sing. And, truth be told, his hateful earworms would utterly dominate this list if steps are not taken to prevent it. I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise I will be completely successful.

(more…)

Hey Matt,

I know we haven’t spoken in awhile, but you know I’m always thinking about you around this time each year. I wanted to tell you about this dream I had. I don’t remember many of my dreams, so when I do, I figure they must have some significance. But who the hell am I, Freud? You’re the philosopher, dude.

Anyway, I was snuggling Sophie into bed and drifted off to sleep. She’s been waking up in the middle of night and this has been doing a number on me. I had some shit to do late at night, so I was happy to catch a quick catnap before I “hit the old grind stone,” as my dad used to say.

You and I are reminiscing about the night we went to see Santana and Phish at Blossom back in ‘92. The night was July 31; I recall this because the next night was my first date with Julie. We drove to the concert in my Horizon and got really stoned at the show. I was so far gone that I was paranoid throughout the entire Santana set. Man, the only thing I remember about Santana was that every song ended the same. “Dun dundun Dun dundun,” you know, like the ending of “Black Magic Woman.” After the show you had to drive home. We were hungry and stopped at that Burger King near the amphitheater for some late night grub. Instead of eating in the car, we crouched down in the parking lot and devoured the burgers and fries off of the asphalt. I made a comment that we were like cavemen — hovering over our kill and feeding our faces. We laughed.

In the dream, you’re wearing blue cut off shorts and a light blue, button-down shirt. Your hair is pulled back in a ponytail, with a few strands of your brown, curly locks dangling in your face. You’re trying to roll another cigarette, but having a difficult time because the two of us are laughing off our asses. We laugh so hard that I double over. When I sit back up to look at you, you’re gone. (more…)

Timing, the New Testament tells us, is everything, and it takes a startlingly few number of works to turn a glorious, magnificent, rainbows-and-puppies kind of day into one of hideous terror, especially when that day is being sonically overseen by a guy in a pair of oversized fly sunglasses.

“Woman Needs A Man Like A Fish Needs A Bicycle”
By Scott Malchus

My final year of college, 1992, I directed a senior film that featured my girlfriend in one of the starring roles. At the time, U2’s Achtung Baby was gaining momentum, and every college and mainstream radio station was playing tracks from the album. The making of the movie was stressful and quite a learning experience. The movie was finally completed in April, and I held a big premiere at the university; my parents, sisters, family friends, and members of faculty all attended. After the screening, which went very well, I was on cloud nine. The culmination of four years of hard work seemed to pay off and, more importantly, the audience really liked the movie. The cast, crew, friends and my family all returned to the duplex I rented with my three best friends in college. Can you imagine how great I felt? I didn’t need any alcohol to get me high that night. Then, just as things were winding down, my girlfriend took me downstairs to my bedroom so we could talk.

That’s right, she broke up with me right then and there. Couldn’t wait another 12 hours to let me savor the moment. It had to be then.

Like I said, Achtung Baby was in every one’s tape deck or CD player, mine included. I gravitated to the darker songs, the one’s about deteriorating relationships and betrayal. I cannot listen to “So Cruel” (download) without thinking of the best and worst day of my college years.

(Luckily for me, I would meet my bride-to-be a couple of months later.)

Mainstream Rock: U2, “Angel of Harlem” (1988)

David: This is when I started to get bored with U2. I liked a couple tunes from Rattle and Hum, but not this one.

Zack: I’ve got a pretty long list of “least favorite” U2 songs, and this song definitely spends some time at the top of the rotation. I know that it’s not, quite, but this has never seemed like anything more than one of those extra songs they sneak onto a greatest-hits album to sell a few extra copies. Not to knock U2 — Achtung Baby is one of my favorite albums ever, and I like “Desire,” also from Rattle and Hum. But this one sounds sour to me. I bet the Commitments hated it too.

(more…)