"Mind Mischief (The Field Remix)", by Tame Impala.
Tame Impala take sixties psychedelia and play it through a filter of the
blazing Perth summer sun. (I have never been to Perth, so I don't know if that
is even true; this past summer the temperatures in Canberra seem to have been
much higher. Perhaps Tame Impala should move here for maximum effect.) The
Field take "minimal techno" of the Kompakt variety and leave it out
in the weather for what sounds like years, until everything that caused the music
to be in any way recognisable has been weathered away, leaving just the barest
outline. (This may not sound like a compliment, but give him a listen and
you'll see that it might be.) This ten-minute remix pitches the two of them
against each other. Music is the winner.
"You Are My Destiny", by The Juan Maclean. It's
been a while between drinks for our old pals The Juan Maclean. So what if this
sounds like the second cousin twice removed of "Happy House"? It's a
strong blood line.
"Outside Amore", by Man Tear. This is a strange
one. It is naggingly familiar, but I can't for the life of me figure out why. I
hate that. It's on DFA, but doesn't really sound like it. From Sweden, but
doesn't really sound like that, either.
"King of Hearts (Richard X Remix Edit)", by
Cassie. Clearly, Richard X still has whatever he had in the mid-00s that got me
fired up about music again after so many years in the wilderness.
"Beautiful Son", by Peaking Lights. This song is
equal parts mystery and beauty. That seems to be a perfect ratio. Is it too
late to declare this one of the best songs of 2013?
"Entertainment (Dinosaur Jr Remix)", by Phoenix.
That might be what the label says, but what it really is is Dinosaur Jr
covering a Phoenix song. Which is a pretty funny thing to imagine, but in
practice it is a triumph: J Mascis & Co ratchet down the pop intensity of
the original, in the way that really only they, the Original Slackers, can; and
in doing so they get to the heart of the song in a way that the original actually
doesn't. Well, that's what I think.
"Journey From Eden", by The Steve Miller Band. You
probably know The Steve Miller Band from mid-seventies radio staples "The
Joker" and "Fly Like An Eagle". But sniffing around the internet
reveals that they are a band with a rich history (former members included Jim
Keltner, Ben Sidran and one Boz Scaggs) and no shortage of drama. This is the
last long on their seventh (!) album, and their last before a serious accident,
and perhaps a few moments of contemplation, saw Miller move in the direction of
more immediate thrills and, at least from this vantage point, significantly
more radio play. Good as those hits are, it is possible to argue that they
never got better than this.
"Aegean Sea", by Abel. This turns out to be an
"edit" (remember what I taught you?) of a track of Smokie's very
first album, from 1975. The edit rocks. Which is not something I would usually
find myself saying about Smokie. ("Alice! Alice! Who the %$#@ is
Alice?")
"Up In a Puff of Smoke", by Polly Brown. Many of
you will not remember this song, as it wasn't particularly successful as a
single. But it is firmly imprinted on my own memory on account of its having
appeared on "Whopper", a 1975 Australian Polydor "original hits original
artists" compilation that I played to death. (Not to be confused with
"Ripper".) Looking through the track listing today is a bit deflating,
although it does have a run of highly listenable songs that cover much of its
second side. (It also, I suspect, would have been my first introduction to
Kraftwerk, so I owe it an enormous debt on that score.) If you had a hankering
to listen to The Supremes you would probably be better off listening to The
Supremes, but I have a soft spot for this song, and it brings an ever-so-gentle
hint of glam rock into the mix.
"Tell Me What You See In Me", by Sandy Denny and
The Strawbs. The Strawbs had so many line-up changes over the years that their
Wikipedia entry contains a diagram that is so complicated that it is fathomable
only by academics and superior alien life forms. Another of the long, long list
of things I didn't know was that amongst the many members of The Strawbs (aside
from Rick Wakeman) was Sandy Denny -- evidently for a brief period in early
1968. But not so brief that they didn't have time to record an album (in
Denmark!), an album that wasn't released until 1973, by which time The Strawbs
had well and truly moved on (and Sandy Denny, of course, had made a name of her
own with Fairport Convention and Fotheringay). I have never heard a Sandy Denny
song that I didn't immediately love, and this is no exception. They also do
"Who Knows Where The Time Goes", but the Fairport version of that
song is so ingrained on my consciousness that I can't really entertain any other
version, even if Sandy herself is singing it.
"95c", by Valerie Lemercier. By approximately 10
seconds into this song, you will be convinced that the ghost of el records
hangs over it. And you will be right: the credits reveal that el mainstay Louis
Philippe appears here on the guitar. Meanwhile production duties are by the
seemingly ubiquitous (at least in France) Bertrand Burgalat. It's very sweet:
ye ye pop in the late 20th century.
"Idle I'm (Colorama Coloured In Remix)", by John
Stammers. There's no words I can type that would in any way add to your
enjoyment or understanding of this song. The download link may still be up: try it for yourself.
"The Captain of Her Heart", by Double. It may be
because I am one quarter Swiss that this song hits me where I live. Ostensibly
garden variety mid-80s pop, there is something slightly mysterious lurking
behind its surface sheen that I find attractive. (Also, the opening couple of
bars put me in mind of the underrated work Chris Abrahams did with Melanie
Oxley a few years back.) Curiously, this song was mentioned in this seemingly
unrelated article on Pitchfork just the other day.
"Letter of Intent (Mark McGuire Road Chief
Remix)", by Ducktails. My take on it is that Mark McGuire dons his Road
Chief hat whenever he wants to venture down the highway of seventies/eighties
FM radio. Thus he drives what was, in its original form, a perfectly good if
rudimentary fragile pop song out into the land of lush arrangements and a
particular kind of tone such as you might (hope to) find over the closing
credits of a particular type of American independent film. A road movie, maybe.
