My last most recent batch of library borrowings:
Lee Hazlewood "These Boots Are Made For Walkin': The Complete MGM Recordings": a voice that is part Johnny Cash, part Stephin Merritt; singing verging on not-singing-at-all; amazing arrangements, from a time when the producer could say, "hey, you want an orchestra?, let’s bring in an orchestra”. The title song is reclaimed by Hazlewood, in a post-modern (or maybe even proto-DJ) style, with "this is the part where ..." introducing various bits of the song. "Sand”, of course, is a timeless classic, although I question whether, at one point, "thy" should have been "thine". And, of course, "Summer Wine", inviting one to "put on your silver spurs". I had a pair of spurs once, borrowed from the farm (and unused for about half a century). I wore them to a fancy-dress 21st birthday a very long time ago. If we had gone on public transport I quite possibly would have been either arrested or beaten up. Roger Russell had on a leather skirt, and seemed just a little bit too comfortable therein. I can't now even remember whose birthday it was. Only the photos remain, awaiting the day when one of our number becomes famous.
The Sea And Cake "Oui": the only record I've heard from this, the melodic “pop” arm of the Chicago post-rock collective, featuring that man John McEntire on drums and quite a bit else besides, and Archer Prewitt, otherwise known as the author of the "Sof' Boy" comics. I have borrowed this a number of times, and am happy to keep coming back to it. It is very refreshing. I can't quite put a finger on what makes it not dull and tedious, but whatever it is, it works. They also have a cd-ep out somewhere that features a video directed by our hero Richard McGuire (links at right, the third of which seems not to be working at present but I'm keeping it up in the hope that it reappears; it is the hub of the McGuire enterprise).
Underworld "Beaucoup Fish": I am grateful to Underworld for implanting the suggestion that people over the age of 35 can still embrace the dance floor (if only in our heads). The whole family can bounce around the house to this, one foot to the other and back again, while twirling their hands in silly little circles as if scuffing up the seam on the new ball. Having failed in my desperate search for a copy of the 12-inch version of Donna Summer's "I Feel Love", I am happy to embrace "King of Snake" for the way it unleashes the fangs of Giorgio Moroder.
Dirty Three "She Has No Strings Apollo": I am not an authority on Dirty Three. I once queued up outside the Evelyn Hotel until the wee small hours to see one of their first gigs, only to ultimately give up hope that they were actually going to appear. I can admire what they are capable of, and often enjoy it, but I can't keep it up for the lengths of time they can. This, to my ears, is on a par with any of their other efforts, although it does contain one lovely piece, "Long way to go with no punch", with a recurring piano motif reminiscent of, say, Erik Satie, or Chris Abrahams in wistful mode, which proves they are no one-trick ponies.
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