Something of an eighties theme drifts in and out of this month's enterprise. But first ...
"Sunny", by Bob Zellin. We begin with two point five minutes of Hammond B-3 extravagance.
Pass me a mai tai, would you, dear? (Bonus: album cover of the month.)
"Into Your Arms", by Love
Positions. In the annals of twee pop, it surely has never gotten much more twee
than this. (If you like The Softies, you will like it.) If I was drawn to
this song by the fact that it was written by Robyn St Clare, of The
Hummingbirds ("Alimony" = one of the great Australian pop
songs), it must have been subliminal, as I had no knowledge of that fact, or of
the fact that The Lemonheads had some kind of hit with it. The things you
learn.
"You Can't Be Told", by Valerie
June. This draws, I would suggest, from the same cloth as Holly Golightly. That
is, a top quality, albeit maybe slightly scratchy, cloth. It also happens to be
this month's Black Keys soundalike, courtesy guitar and production by Mr
Auerbach. You will also note the presence of Richard Swift on drums.
"Put Your Love In Me", by
Tindersticks. Minimalist, haunting, dark (maybe even "dark wave"?) cover
of a Hot Chocolate number: just synths, atmostpherics, and a rudimentary
programmed drum track, and nary a trace of Errol Brown. Would work well as a
film soundtrack, which is kind of handy because that's what it is.
"In My Car", by Real Estate. This
is the answer record to The Dugites' "In Your Car". Actually, I just
made that up. It is, though, a non-album track by the ever reliable, and seemingly still
improving, Real Estate. Their new album is a doozy, too.
"The New Rap Language", by
Spoonie Gee and the Treacherous Three. No, Carl, it's not the Sugarhill Gang.
But you are right, they do "sound damn similar". This is the oldest
of the Old Skool, and though it may seem a little quaint now, it was a
revolution in sound at the time, returning pure language to the discourse of
popular music. Before long it would largely evolve to a world of Uzis, ho's,
cocaine, gold teeth and supercars. Give me, you won't be surprised to hear, the
Old Skool any day. Also, a likely influence on Blondie's "Rapture".
"Que Pasa / Me No Pop I", by Kid
Creole and the Coconuts present Coati Mundi. One of the great songs of the
post-punk era, and an unlikely hit. This twelve-inch version trumps the one you
probably remember from the radio by reason of the addition of the smooth
grooves of what would usually be called a "prelude" but which in this
case almost upstages the main part of the song. Was this the first Latin(o) rap
song?
"The Throw – Levitational", by
Jagwar Ma. Because I live under a rock, the only thing I know about Jagwar Ma
is that they hail from Sydney. They probably sound nothing like this track,
which is a typically mindbending twelve-minute acid-drenched psychedelic remix
by The Time and Space Machine. It's all-or-nothing time. I'll take
"all".
"Dream Girl", by SHINee. This
piece of K-pop fairy floss would appear to be from some kind of K-oncept
record: a three-part album with subtitles "The Misconceptions of
You", "The Misconceptions of Me" and "The Misconceptions of
Us". That's a lot of misconceptions. They should tread carefully. The song
itself drives a straight line through pop music right back to (at least) the
eighties. I dare you to listen to it five times and not be totally hooked. You
should watch the video. Clearly, the Korean language has no equivalent to "understated".
"I'll Be Around", by Empire of
the Sun. And speaking of the eighties (and speaking of Australian content, too!
Snap!), this song is clad with a high-eighties veneer (but with just enough of
a hint of lo-fi to identify it as the product of the new century). It drifts on
a bed of high-disposable-income synths and reverbed guitars, not a million
miles from the second coming of Roxy Music. A clear global smash, only thirty
years too late!
"Don't Stop The Dance (Idjut Boys
Dub)", by Bryan Ferry. Did somebody mention Roxy Music? This ghostly edit
of a Bryan Ferry song from 1985 is the epicentre of smooth. Apparently Ferry
himself commissioned a bunch of remixes of this song. It seems a strange idea,
this far removed from the original recording, but it's a song, and indeed a
musical, uh, philosophy, that has informed rather a lot of recent so-called
dance music. (See, for example, Todd Terje, who enlisted the old man himself to
perform on his latest album, providing vocals for, of all things, a stately
cover of Robert Palmer's "Johnny and Mary", in which Ferry sounds more like
Bill Fay than Bryan Ferry.)
"Cocaine", by J. J. Cale. RIP.
"Summer Breeze", by Seals and
Crofts. Yacht Rock 101. The original and the best. Well, not necessarily the
best, if I'm honest: you should check out the Isley Brothers' version some
time.
"I Go Out", by Steve Mason and
Emiliana Torrini. I have already sung the praises of Emiliana Torrini. Steve
Mason was a member of The Beta Band, one of the more notable skewed-pop bands
of the oughts. They may seem to be an Odd Couple, but the result speaks for
itself.
