This one was actually put together a while ago. But
then I procrastinated at the point of writing it up because, y'know, reasons.
Thus I have now had to rush it out in a half-baked fashion. Who, me?
April's shouldn't be too far away. Not to put pressure on myself or
anything.
"T. On A White Horse", by Eberhard Weber. Fool
that I am, I had the idea that ECM Records emerged
around the latter part of the 1980s. In fact it had been in business for nigh
on 20 years by then. It only took the world that long to catch up. On the
strength of this piece, from 1977, the label knew exactly what it was doing
from the start. The sonic template is impeccably tasteful, but easy listening
it is not. Or, not exactly. Minor chords are applied liberally. Weber's woozy
bass playing floats above, beside and, really, all around the steady framework that the
other musicians have provided. There are elements in here that you might associate with
jazz. But it's not really jazz at all.
(No need to be afraid.) If it puts you in mind of Kate Bush at times, that would
be because Weber has played on many of her records, notably "Hounds of
Love" (see, especially, "Mother Stands For Comfort"). It also makes me
think of mid-80s David Sylvian. But then, I have spent much of my adult life
thinking of mid-80s David Sylvian. I understand from the internet that Mr
Weber has been in poor health of late. I wish him well.
"Seven Stars", by Suni McGrath. Treating this
beast as if it were an actual playlist that somebody might, like, actually
listen to, one track after the other (in my dreams? (actually, I think it hangs together rather well, albeit that it does fragment somewhat towards the end)), I wouldn't want to lump
the unwary listener with two lengthy ECM pieces in a row, so here is a brief interlude for
solo guitar. It fits right in, if you ask me. McGrath is a lesser-known picker
of late-sixties vintage. Tompkins Square, true to form, would appear to have
tracked him down in the mid-'00s and got him to lay down a couple of new songs.
This is one of them. Those fingers still sound mighty nimble.
"Blue", by John Abercrombie, Dave Holland, Jack
DeJohnette. From a 1978 album called "Gateway 2". If you were going
to describe any artists as quintessentially ECM, these would probably be those.
(Well, Keith Jarrett, obviously.) Do you remember the scene in "Diva" where the two leading characters are walking around in Paris in the rain, making intermittent use of
an umbrella? In tone, this is not unlike the music playing underneath that
scene. (See also "Rainbirds", by Tom Waits.) Not a lot happens, but
nor would you want it to. In contrast to this, the Eberhard Weber track is
(almost) exhaustingly busy. I guess it's all relative.
"Peace Piece", by Bill Evans. This, too, although
it was recorded 20 years earlier than the above track, fits in completely with
the ECM ethos, demonstrating that Manfred Eicher was/is looking both forwards
and backwards at the same time -- in fact, given the above ECM tracks both stemmed from within the maelstrom of punk, everywhere except their own time. This song,
by Evans alone, also evokes that same scene in "Diva". Evans's left
hand is contemplative, ruminative. His right hand is, for the most part,
simpatico, but occasionally it succumbs to a bout of orneriness, just to make
sure we are still listening.
"Challenger", by Teddy Lasry. Time for another
interlude. Release the Moogs.
"Come Back Home", by 2NE1. Ahem. And now, as they
say, for something completely different. K-pop goes reggae. I kid you not.
Featuring a gorgeous Rihanna-style chorus and one of the more bizarre and
unexpected "drops" (I think is the term) in modern music. Over the
top in every possible way.
"It Feels Good To Be Around You", by Air France.
Basically just filling in some of the gaps in my knowledge of the Sincerely
Yours label. This would appear to have been Air France's last gasp. Shame,
that.
"Woman of Soul", by Rhead Brothers. Cow bells.
Congas. Electric piano. Lush vocal harmonies. Brief, recurring "in the
style of" Knopfler/Pablo Cruise guitar solo. Presumably, white trousers
and semi-unbuttoned white shirts. With gold chains and (optional) chest wig. We
observe that "Rhead" is only one letter and a slight tweak away from
Bread. Surely a coincidence. Bonus: record cover of the month.
"It's Really You (Jan Schulte Edit)", by
Tarney/Spencer Band. It says here that Messrs Tarney and Spencer met in
Adelaide in the sixties, where they played in such bands as, if you can believe
this, Johnny Broome and The Handels. This song, which has been given the
re-edit treatment to admirable effect, was from their London years, and was
released as a single on Uncle Herb's A&M Records. It sounds like it was
aimed squarely at the American AOR market. I had never heard of them before this.
"Out In The Country", by Natural Child. In which
album-oriented/classic/yacht rock gets updated for/by the hipster generation
for no reason that we can see other than "because it was there".
Still, you can't fault the song, the idea, or the execution of that idea.
"An Ocean Between The Waves", by The War On Drugs.
There is also a whole lot of classic-rock in this song. (When was the last time
you heard so much guitar?) I had been aware of the hoo-haa last year about this band, but none of it gave me any reason to expect
that I would find a song as powerful as this. I'm not ashamed to
admit (well, yeah) that I cannot listen to it without the appearance of liquid
in our eye sockets. I must be getting old and emotionally unstable. No, that can't be it.
It must be raining. (Song of the year? It's too late for that now.) If one were going to use the word "epic", one might as well do it here. (And, like all of the best songs, it has solid motorik underpinnings.) Oh, look, they can also play it live on the radio.
"On The Beach", by Joakim. If Neil Young had made
"On The Beach" using the tools that he employed for
"Trans", it might have sounded something like this. A compelling
reinvention of an extraordinary song. Extra points if you can identify where I
have previously come across that warbling keyboard sound that kicks in about a
minute before the end. My guess is it's buried somewhere in Pink Floyd's
"Animals", but I don't got time for that.
"Hotel California", by Gypsy Kings. As heard in "The Big Lebowski", a film by Joel and Ethan Coen. Ooh, look, here it comes now. I love the internet.
(I would also like to take this opportunity to put
on the public record that my opinion of The Eagles is in complete accord with
that of The Dude.)
"Dead Flowers", by Townes Van Zandt. This, I
reckon, is the best Rolling Stones song, from the best Rolling Stones album. And
it is only improved if someone other than the Rolling Stones performs it.
(I'm not a huge fan.) Another one from "The Big Lebowski".
"Hard Workin' Man", by Jack Nitzsche. You have to
understand, I grew up as an only
child on a farm, in a household where there were no books to speak of, and I
went to the local schools, where the quality of my education was what it
was. Pretty much everything I learned, I learned from music magazines and from
listening to 2JJ's sketchy transmissions of an evening, when and if I could get the
transistor radio into the right spot. So I had no idea who this guy Jack
Nitzsche was, but I had seen his name in print enough times to be aware of him. (Turns out he packed a bit into his 63 years. Check it out.) I also had no idea how it might
be pronounced. "Nitsky"? "Nitch"? "Neetcha", like Monty
Python pronounced the philosopher on my well-worn Python cassettes? Truth is, I
still don't know the answer to either of those questions. Jack Nitzsche,
mystery man. This song doesn't alleviate my confusion. It's a down and dirty
blues stomper, of the kind you would expect to hear from Muddy Waters, or, in
a slightly more bastardised form, by The Beasts of Bourbon, or Captain
Beefheart. Hey, guess who has wandered in to provide vocals? It's the Captain
himself. Hello there, Captain.
"Larousse Baron Bic", by Rosa Yemen. The guitars
chime, jangle, and work themselves up into the best kind of post-punk state of nervous
tension. The singer gets lost inside her own emotions. It's over in one minute
and 30 seconds. Cool!
