1001 Albums: With The Beatles

# 35

Artist: The Beatles

Album: With The Beatles

Year: 1963

Length: 32:24

Genre: Rock Pop / British Invasion

 

 

“She’s got the devil in her heart
No she’s an angel sent to me”

Brace yourself, I’m about to say something completely controversial. I don’t think you the reader are ready for what I have to say. I mean, I’m terrified of saying it because we live in a time where having differing opinions is apparently a bad thing and you can easily get shit on for being in the minority of it. So make sure you’re in complete control here before I say it. are you good? You sure? Ok, here it goes…

I’m not a fan of The Beatles.

Yeah, I know. Horrible. How could I not be a fan of the greeeeeaaatest band to ever walk the earth? Do I not know music? Am I stupid or something? It’s the Beatles how can anyone not love The Beatles just because they’re the freaking Beatles?

It’s absolutely crazy I know, practically blasphemous that I would say such a thing. Me, not a fan of The Beatles. I can already picture people foaming at the mouth for having heard me say that (and believe me I’ve seen it happen to as if The Beatles are completely immune to criticism just because they are The Beatles, give me a break). So before you raise your torches and pitchforks, let me explain.

I am not a fan of The Beatles and it’s not for lack of trying. Believe me I’m very familiar with their music. I know their catalogue. My dad has this large compilation CD of The Beatles he used to play on repeat a lot when I was a kid, so trust me, I am not in the dark when it comes to their music. So you can’t tell me I haven;t given them a chance. Heck just last year I listened to their entire discography from their first album to their last, I’ve heard it all.

I am not a fan of The Beatles, but I don’t dislike them.

Wait, what?! You… but you just said… I… WHAT?!

Yeah, confused you there? That’s right, I don’t dislike them, I do think they’re a fun band and I do find myself singing along to their songs when they come on. I will never actively seek out their songs to listen to, but if they are playing I won’t mind and cans till enjoy them. I think they’re good, but are they best? Probably not. Who is? Well that’s an impossible question to answer, and who knows I might get a bunch of us together and try to answer it, but for now let’s talk Beatles.

Some people might be confused at this point. How is it that controversial that I like them but am not a fan? Big whoop I’m not a fan, right? At least I still respect them and can understand why people are fans. You would think it was that simple. But meet anyone who has jumped hardcore onto the Beatles bandwagon and you’ll see how quickly they get defensive and attack you for simply not being a fan. As if you have two choices, either be a hardcore fan because they can’t comprehend why people have their own tastes and opinions on things or you hate them and you’re an idiot who doesn’t know music. Now, I’d like to believe you reading this are not one of these people and you’re a rational human being who can understand that we may not all disagree on things and can respectively talk about why some of us may or may not like things. If you are, fantastic, I love you. But, these other people exist in the many… let’s hope I haven’t struck a nerve with them.

If ever there’s an album of theirs that pushes me away rather than pulls me closer, it would probably be this one. If it was great in the 60s, then I can safely say it has aged horribly. For people calling The Beatles the greatest band on Earth, I would not suggest showing non-fans this album as a starting point, because it’ll be a major disappointment.

“Really? This is it?”

This album doesn’t have much to offer both musically and lyrically. It’s pure pop rock music that is simple and accessible and for the most part, easy on the ears of the casual listener.

HERESY! I hear you say.

Well, don’t believe me just watch.

(I am not including a pic of Bruno Mars)

Here’s the lyrics to the song that opens the album:

“It won’t be long yeah, yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, till I belong to you
Every night when everybody has fun
Here am I sitting all on my own
It won’t be long yeah, yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, till I belong to you
Since you left me, I’m so alone
Now you’re coming, you’re coming on home
I’ll be good like I know I should
You’re coming home, you’re coming home
Every night the tears come down from my eyes
Every day I’ve done nothing but cry
It won’t be long yeah, yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, till I belong to you
Since you left me, I’m so alone
Now you’re coming, you’re coming on home
I’ll be good like I know I should
You’re coming home, you’re coming home
So every day we’ll be happy I know
Now I know that you won’t leave me no more
It won’t be long yeah, yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, yeah
It won’t be long yeah, till I belong to you, woo”

Brilliant. Truly the words of high-grade poets. I’ll give credit to them though, as their albums went on they definitely improved their song writing and wrote lyrics that actually had some effort put into them. Unfortunately, we’re not on those albums, we’re on this one.

Look at it. It’s incredibly repetitive (which I guess helped getting their songs stuck in people’s heads), way too simplistic (I’m alone because you’re not here… brilliant once again) and honestly, doesn’t really leave a lasting impression as a song. You would think this is an exception to the album, but it isn’t. This perfectly sets up what you’re in for the entire album as each song basically copies this pop lyrical formula of simple themes and repetitive words.

But you have to remember this, at this point The Beatles were still in their early stages, merely a pop sensation that was sweeping the nation. they hadn’t grown into their actual talent yet and were still just trying to make hits to get noticed and appease their large female fan base who probably just wanted to hear the cute boys sing about how much they loved them. It was capitalising on puppy love and I guess they did that very well. It wasn’t time for them to experiment just yet.

Actually, while I’m on the subject, why don’t I make another controversial statement, or in this case more of an observation. This one will probably get more people against me and start using them fighting words. This observation is what has made me understand why I can’t get into the Beatles as much as most people, especially when it comes to their early albums. Are you ready?

I believe that Justin Bieber is the modern day equivalent of The Beatles… to a certain extent.

There you go, I know I’m going to be tarred and feathered for that one. Time to get the mob out and lynch me. But give me a second here. I just made a bold statement here, I at least should be given the chance to explain it.  He is the modern equivalent to The Beatles… to a certain extent. Meaning, there are a lot of similarities between the two, but also few big differences, which I will get into. But first let’s look at the similarities.

-Both had music that hit the top of the charts.

-Both had a legion of screaming fan girls that were completely obsessed with them in a creepy way.

-Both could sell out big venues for their shows.

-Both had simple lyrics with simple ideas of love, girls, loving you, don’t leave me alone, holding hands and yeah, yeah, yeahs.

-Both had stupid haircuts.

-Both can play their own instruments (Justin Bieber can play the drums, piano, guitar and the fucking trumpet).

-Both needed producers to make them sound halfway decent (The Beatles had George Martin to thank, especially for their later sound that people love).

-Both redefined themselves as artists (The Beatles when they went to India and tripped acid and Bieber with his last album, where he tried to show off a more mature side to him. Which believe it or not people accepted as being pretty decent. People I know who hate Bieber actually found themselves saying “It’s not actually not that bad.”)

-Both were apparently nightmares behind the scenes to work with (Bieber goes without saying thanks to the media, but there’s tons of stories of The Beatles being childish and immature behind the scenes and just, overall, difficult people to work with).

So there’s no denying that the two had some pretty large similarities. You might find it hard to accept, but the similarities in a lot of ways are pretty striking. But now for the differences, and this is where I’ll win you back probably.

Other than the obvious one that The Beatles were a whole band that actually wrote their own music, there’s the one big difference that really separates them:

Historically The Beatles made an impact and Bieber didn’t. Years from now people will remember Bieber as this one off pop sensation that came and left and hey that was a thing, while The Beatles made a lasting impression to the point that people still talk about them today, still love them today, are still listening to all their songs and know them by heart.

If their early albums were just some simple pop rock, then why is it they made such an impact? Here’s what I think: They were a product of being in the right place at the right time. The Beatles were big not because they were a pop sensation (although that helped) but because they were also new and fresh. The idea of a boy band wasn’t really known and especially since rock n’ roll was still developing, The Beatles had a sound that sounded completely different than what the American Audiences were used to. Remember, The Beatles playing on the Ed Sullivan show was what opened the door to the British Invasion in the US. People tuned to their TV’s and saw these four cute boys, who were incredibly tight as a band (from already playing together for years) and were laying a style of rock they had never really heard before. People’s ears exploded with glee. Step aside Elvis, these were the guys we needed to hear. And although they weren’t the best (The Who, Rolling Stones, Yardbirds definitely had more artistic integrity than they did), they were the first to reach the American airwaves.

And that’s really what this album is, a product of it’s time, historically a milestone in American music. This was their first album released in the US and already sold over half a million copies before it was even released. Justin Bieber may have sold as much, but he will never go down in history like The Beatles did for the main reason that Bieber wasn’t anything new. The idea of the boy band and pop icon goes way, way back, and although some have managed to make an impact, like Michael Jackson, King of Pop, most have fallen through the cracks (Backstreet Boys and N’Sync, come to mind?). They weren’t really doing anything new, just copying what made their “ancestors” so great and that is why they didn’t leave a mark like The Beatles did.

So, I’ll give you this, you can have their later work as arguments to why they’re so great. You can have your Revolver, Sargeant Pepper, Abbey Road, White Album and Let it Be. But there’s no denying With The Beatles is pure pop rock that is truly a product of it’s time that hasn’t aged well at all. Heck, they’re best songs off this album are covers… so they can’t even be credited for writing those.

But I do have a lot of respect for them, they grew as musicians and artists, really got themselves to a high standard and kept pushing to be better and better, which is an admirable thing. A lot of artists kind of get stuck in the same loop of their own music, but The Beatles tried to do away with their old teeny bopper pop music and grow into more mature sounds and lyrics.

So I may not be a fan, but I can see why they’re as big as they are.

Except this album… god.

Song of Choice: Roll Over Beethoven

-Bosco

 

 

1001 Albums: Night Life

#34

Artist: Ray Price

Album: Night Life

Year: 1963

Length: 37:36

Genre: Country

 

 

“When the evening sun goes down you will find me hanging round
Oh the night life ain’t no good life but it’s my life”

I regret what I said in my last post. I realise now the error I have made. I know, I know, I’ll admit I said I wanted change in music. I did. I was growing tired of the same old jazz instrumentals. I wanted to hear something different, break the mold a bit. But when I said that, this is not what I wanted or hoped for. You’re treading dangerous territory here 1001 albums list, very dangerous territory with me. I was hoping for rock or ska or world music or freaking anything but this. But you heard my plea and delivered. Next time I should be more specific.

For those who don’t know, I hate country music. I really do. It’s the only genre of music I cannot stand at all. Even though I have experienced country songs that I did like and said “This is not as bad as I thought it would be”, as a whole I try to avoid it best I can. Heck, I can tolerate folk music more than country, and folk I find boring as all hell. (That being said, it’s purely a personal taste and does not take away from the actual merits of folk music because I still respect it and can see why it’s a great genre that people love). Country on the other hand… I just can’t see it. I don’t get it. It feels like the music of the country hicks who get a kick out of simplicity. That’s harsh I know, but I cannot repeat it enough that I just can’t stand country music. I came close to loving it with Marty Robbins, but the big difference was his added a cowboy, western twang to it that I quite enjoy. Not this… not this at all.

I want to make it very clear before I start that yes, I am incredibly biased when it comes to country music. I’m completely aware that there are people out there who love it and hold it dear to their hearts and can probably argue why it is great. I have not met these people yet. Not one person has sold me country music yet. You like it, even love it? Fantastic! Great! I fucking hate it with a burning passion.

I’ll admit, with enough booze in me I can enjoy the hell out of line dancing, but for a limited time only. What is it with line dancing, especially within the french canadian community, that is so popular? I don’t get it. Everytime I go to a Quebecer wedding, it’s plagued with non-stop country music and just people line dancing the ENTIRE. FUCKING. NIGHT. WHAT THE HELL?! How do they not get tired of repeating the same exact motion over and over again for five goddamn hours. I got to say I do admire the level of dedication that these country lovers have to pure torturous monotony. In all honesty, you should probably never compete in a dance marathon against them, they will never drop or stop as they line-dance to any song that fucking plays.

Yee-haw, Mother fuckers.

Ok, Ok, enough Bosco. ENOUGH! We are nor here to shit on a perfectly fine, albeit annoying, genre. We are here to talk about Ray Price and his damn album, Night Life. Got it? Ok…

As a whole the album isn’t bad. Sure, I wasn’t crazy about it because I’m not a country lover, but for those who are this is definitely one for them. This came out at a time where Honky Tonk and Country were sort of being drowned out by the new-comers of British Invasion and were having a difficult time staying relevant. This album managed to hit the top of the billboards before there even was a Top Country Billboard (Which says a lot about the genre if they had to make their own damn Billboard chart). But I can see why.

This is a staple of Country music. Everything cliche and stereotype you can think of is in this album. For someone who never listens to country, this album is exactly what you would think country to be. It hits all the usual themes of romance, women, drinking, lonely nights, street corners and heartbreak. Musically it offers the same damn guitar chords over and over, with a corny-ass fiddle playing emotionally along, adding to that cheesy feel that most people dislike about country. Musically it’s so sappy, making you feel this level of melo-drama you see in shitty romance films. It’s not cringey, but you can’t help but want wine with that cheese. When he sings about leaving his lady but not really wanting to because it’s his lady, how can you not feel like telling him to shut up and make up his damn mind already. Heck, you already know what you’re getting into when he opens a song singing about getting loaded on a bottle of gin. fantastic, a drunk women-lover.

…

I’m doing it again. I said I’d do this with an open-mind, I really did. I gotta try again. Positive Country thoughts…. Ok. I got it.

When I was in University I had a class called Roots of Rock N Roll, which was a fantastic class that exposed me to so many genres and songs I hadn’t experienced before. it really expanded my mind and gave me a butt-load of knowledge about music history. As part of an assignment we had to go visit this country type club that had musicians go up and perform songs (one of whom was our teacher). Cool, he was always playing music in class, so we knew he was damn good. Would be fun.

For the write-up, we had to write about our experience and include the songs that were sung during the performances. Should be easy right? yeah, if we could understand a damn word they were saying.

Every performance basically went like this:

“Ok so now I’m gonna sing a song called I wahnergettbabhatning”

…what? What was the title? What the hell did they say? No worries, the title is always repeated in the chorus, we will be hearing it multiple times.

The singers would repeatedly sing the entire song perfectly clear, every word crisp as day, enunciated beautifully. But when that fucking chorus came along, suddenly they developed this heavy southern drawl that garbled up all the words together and became complete gibberish. Boy did we have a good laugh about that.

I will say this, Ray Price’s southern drawl, which isn’t that strong, actually adds a lot to the performance. It’s hard not to hear country music without it and it does add another layer to the proverbial onion that is country music. Especially when the album starts with him interrupting his song by talking over it and introducing the album to us. Thanks for that Ray, that’s what I was hoping for, three minutes of you telling us about the album and how you made it for us (us being his fans and clearly not me). Thank you for informing me about all the topics you’re going to sing about and thank you for telling me to enjoy it. Don’t patronize me, you bastard. It’s great that this is immediately followed by a repeat fo the song he was talking over, just to make sure we got to hear it in all it’s glory. The album starts with the same exact song played twice. Fucking twice.

Honestly… if I wasn’t paying attention I would have never noticed because stylistically it’s so damn repetitive. There’s absolutely not musical diversity to it, with each song sounding almost exactly alike, played in the exact same style, with some minor differences to make it a different song… I guess. Heck, the way he sings barely changes in tone form song to song and follows the same pattern. I think that’s one of the main reasons I dislike country. It’s heavily formulaic and doesn’t move away from this apparently winning formula. It almost always all sounds the same to me. I have a hard time differentiating between the songs because of how similar they all are. Imagine my excitement when the song “Bright Lights and Blonde-Haired Women” kicked in with something that was actually different. Then imagine my disappointment when it immediately devolved right back into this magic fucking formula it has to follow. Dear god… CHANGE! BE DIFFERENT FOR ONE SONG. It was so hard to choose a song of choice because all the damn songs sound the fucking same.

I’ve done it again. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to Country… I’m sure there’s something I’m just not quite grasping or understanding or… getting. Maybe it’s just me, my ears aren’t in tune to country music and for all I know each song is it’s own unique specimen and I’m completely crazy that I just can’t hear it. Maybe Country music lovers are on a whole different level than us haters when it comes to listening. Ray Price is a completely charismatic dude and plays and sings damn well… so there must be something I just can’t hear… right?

Until then though my feelings won’t change. I still fucking hate country music.

Song of Choice: Night Life

-Bosco

p.s. In case you were wondering, the company I work for ended up winning that Oscar! Pretty awesome.

 

 

 

1001 Albums: Jazz Samba

# 33

 

Artist: Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd

Album: Jazz Samba

Year: 1962

Length: 33:12

Genre: Bossa Nova

 

 

“Instrumental jazz type music”

So, I have some interesting news. Ok, it’s not really news but it’s not really a story either… interesting tidbit? Well the interesting tidbit sets up a little story… if that helps. No? Oh…

Either way. This Sunday is the Oscars and excitingly enough, the company I work for is nominated for one! That’s not my point, but because of it this whole week has been dedicated to the Oscars with a big, fancy type party thrown this evening. Nothing new with that since there’s a festivity every last Friday of the month anyway, but this particular one had a little more worth to it. Anyway, the week has been full of Oscar related activities, from a pub quiz to an Oscar statue sculpting contest. Being the good organizers they are, they saved the best one for last: Celebrity look alike competition.

Being the ever participating… participant I am, I wanted to enter into it! One problem: I had no idea who my celebrity look alike was. That’s a bit of an issue, you kind of have to look like someone to be able to contend. This became more a search to find who I looked like rather than actually being in the competition. My curiosity grew as I tried to figure out who it was, and it wouldn’t be satisfied until I do. I had to, I just had to.

Luckily, Thursday night, literally hours before the next day would start, it happened. The Discovery. There was a collective agreement from my co-workers, friends, parents and Sandra: I looked exactly like the guy (with minor differences, but overall the resemblance was pretty striking).

I’ll stop teasing. My celebrity look a like was Bret Mckenzie:

Spitting image.

I donned a white shirt and tie (but still wore jeans and dirty converse. Stayed fancy yet casual at the same time) and got my hair it’s usual curly self. I slammed my best dead-pan face (Only way to imitate the Flight of the Conchords guitarist) and showed everyone a photo of him (Because a lot of people had no idea who he was. He’s won on Oscar for christ’s sakes!). The reaction was the same: Holy shit you look exactly like him. I had this in the bag for sure. I was going to win, no way I could lose. Random employees I’ve never talked to stopped me in the halls and told me they hope I win, I looked exactly like him. Today was my day.

I didn’t win. But to be fair the girl that won totally deserved it. Her resemblance to Nicky Nichols from Orange is the New Black was as striking, if not a little more, as my resemblance to Bret. It was tight competition.

I’m glad this happened today otherwise I wouldn’t have had much to say today. Even now as I start to write about the album I find myself struggling to know where to start or how to begin. It’s not that the album was bad, not at all. Actually, I wish it was bad, it would be so easy to write about. I’d be able to just vent how horrible it was and how much I hated it. But I didn’t. I quite liked it. It was a solid album from start to finish, with no low points or dips in quality. Stan Getz plays one mean Tenor Saxophone and holds the music together with his skills. It’s great to finally hear the sax take the front stage after hearing so much trumpet playing. It really has a distinctive sound to it that brings a whole new feel and quality to the music, that I would debate is better than the trumpet (and I really love the trumpet). I always found the saxophone to be like the trumpet’s mature cousin, it was sexier and had a more adult vibe to it, while the trumpet blurted and farted. Miles Davis was cool, but Stan Getz was pretty damn sexy. See the difference? No? Well it makes sense in my head, so tough shit.

I’ll be honest, the reason I’m having so much difficulty here is because it’s just another instrumental album… and it’s jazzy. The beginning of this list seems to have an over-abundance of instrumental jazz music, it’s a jazz aficionados wet dream. I’ve learned through this challenge that I love Jazz with all my heart, but dear lord I need to separate myself from it for some time. Every new jazz album that appeared got me excited, but now I’m sort of dreading it because I have no idea what to say without reiterating myself. It’s the usual list of things:

-It’s great to relax to.

-It’s a great album to just play and let your mind enjoy it subconsciously.

-You get lost in it.

-It’s structured in a non-structured way that won’t make any of the songs stick in your head in a catchy way, but you still get immersed into the music and just let it seep over you like a warm blanket.

Ok that last part I never said (so maybe I do have new things), but it’s really just saying the same thing in different words. And the fact that it’s another instrumental one makes it so much harder. I’m not a musical expert, never claimed to be. I don’t know anything about musical theory, especially not with jazz, so I can never analyse why the music is good on a technical level (except for when my base knowledge comes in handy for certain things). I am merely a person who loves music so much he’s read a shit ton about different genres, bands and styles and wants to expand his knowledge of what’s out there. That being said, it gets hard to talk about instrumental jazz, especially when it’s like the tenth one I hear. By now, it all kind of sounds the same to me, even though I’m aware that it’s not.

I found this album underwhelming as a whole. I went in expecting to hear something different and got exactly what I was told: Jazz Samba. I find it funny how literal the title is. It’s basically telling you exactly what you’re going to get. It’s like if Miles Davis called his album “Cool Jazz” or The Beatles called their album “British Invasion” or if Led Zeppelin called theirs “Hard Rock” (Although to be honest that would have been fine, since they were too lazy to even name their fucking albums (Seriously three Self-titled albums then an Untitled one? Too hard to come up with an album name? Please)). I guess I can’t complain, they tell you what you’re in for, what you see is what you’ll get kind of deal.

I realise it sounds like I’m being negative towards it, but I really did enjoy it. I still found myself tapping my foot, shaking my booty and losing myself to it as I always do. I just want something new for now. Something different.

I will tell you this, there’s a very good reason this appeared on the list. It was more of a historically important album than a quality one. In 1961, Charlie Byrd visited Brazil while on a tour and discovered the jazz scene there, which is also known as Bossa Nova Jazz. Loving it so much, he took the influence it had on him and brought it over to the US where he wrote music for Stan Getz to play. This album would cement itself in music history as it’s impact would be enough to get the Bossa Nova craze started in the US. Yes, it was this album that did that.

I think that’s pretty neat.

Song of Choice: Samba Dees Days

-Bosco

1001 Albums: Green Onions

# 32

Artist: Booker T. and the M.G.’s

Album: Green Onions

Year: 1962

Length: 34: 55

Genre: RnB Soul

 

“Funky Soul Organ Melodies”

I’m back! After almost two weeks of not writing any posts or listening to any of the albums, I have finally returned. For the five people who read my posts I apologize for the delay and my disappearance. Can’t promise it won’t happen again. Things happen, life happens and it causes you to have to put certain things on hold (Even things you love more than anything). In this case there was a little delay with my album covers (The photoshopped ones), my buddy who does them suddenly got immensely clogged up with midterms and school and just couldn’t get around to doing them (Understandably). This was neither the break I needed nor the break I deserved. So, I decided to relieve some of his stress and let him focus his 100% on his school work and decided to take the reigns as photoshop master. That means the next batch of album covers were actually done by yours truly, sorry. But now I am back and better than ever (because I’m developing my photoshop skills). But… before I move on, I would like to take this opportunity to talk about the unsung hero in my blog.

Julian.

This guy has been my buddy since we were twelve years old, met in first year of high school. Can you believe we’ve known each other for over ten years now? (Whoops my age is showing). When I first started this blog, literally right before I was going to start I had come up with the idea of photoshopping myself into every album. Great idea… but how the hell was I going to manage that when I work a full-time job? I had to do it, I couldn’t do the blog without it, I loved it too much.

In comes Julian. I knew he’d be able to do it, he had the skills and the capabilities. But would he? I pitched the idea to him, which he was reluctant to do, but we tested it out and he was in! Julian would be my photoshop master. And a master he was, cranking out every stupid, absurd idea I threw his way. He did it and delivered every single time with lightning speed and every time I was always so, so happy with the results.

If there’s ever someone I can call reliable, Julian would definitely be number 1 on my list. I mean there’s my parents too, but that just goes without saying. This dude is the most reliable and loyal person I have ever met in my life and I hope he sticks around until the end!

Thanks for all your hard work, dude!

Ok, now on to the album.

Green Onions. Fucking Green Onions, man. The name of the song is probably way more famous than the song itself (which I realise makes absolutely no sense, but let me explain). Everyone knows the name. You ask anyone if they know green onions and there’s a good chance they’ll say they do. Unless you ask my mom, then she’ll start talking about soup.

 mmm… green onion soup.

But ask them to sing it and they might draw a blank, especially since the song doesn’t have any lyrics so that was a trick question and it was stupid of you to even ask it.

But seriously, most people I’ve talked to have all heard the song, but can’t seem to remember the melody at all. Everytime I go to sing it I struggle to remember how it goes, but I know it’s there, somewhere in the back of my head.

Ok… maybe it’s a problem I face, but my point stands. Everyone has heard about this song in some way for sure. It’s so much bigger than every song on this album that it eclipses the entire album. I didn’t even know it was part of an album and always thought it was just some stand alone single. If I had been told that I would have believed it. But nope, here it is in all it’s glory. Before starting it I was asked “How does the rest of the album stand in comparison to the title track?”. I Responded: “I don’t know, I haven’t listened to it yet.”

But now I have and can answer your question.

The album is pretty damn good. So good it came close to being my current favourite. Yeah, that hasn’t happened yet. Didn’t quite make it, but definitely in the current top 5. It’s a funky, soul-popping, dancy, cool freaking album. There’s never a low moment in it and manages to keep the listener engaged for the entire run.

What I liked, especially in comparison to the other instrumental albums I listened to, was how melodic it was. It was definitely the most out of all of them and had a catchy feel to it that can actually stick in your head. Compared to a lot of the free-form styles of previous instrumental albums, this one felt fresh. These were definitely some solid tracks that should get more recognition than they currently have, especially with the title track completely overshadowing them. Which is a real shame because they deliver on every aspect.

The tracks have a perfect blend of danceable beats (Twist and Shout), cool vibes (Green Onions) and funky chords (You can’t sit down). Just when you were relaxed, the album throws a jammin’ beat your way and you can’t help but get up and dance. You were right “You can’t sit down”, I couldn’t… mostly because I was waiting for the bus when you came on and there was nowhere to sit… but hey! I danced!

It’s really easy to see why this album was a big deal. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if this played a major influence in developing the funk genre and groups like Herbie Hancock or even Earth, Wind and Fire borrowed a page from Booker T and the MG’s to create their sound. You can already hear it on this album, it may not be funk but there’s definitely funk elements to it that pioneered the would-be genre. If it didn’t pioneer it, it defintiely left an impression on the people who did.

To call this album soul is a bit of an understatement. There’s so much soul pouring out every single song that you can feel the band really connecting with not only themselves but their instruments as well. From Steve Cropper plucking away at his guitar to Al Jackson beating the drum with tremendous glee, you can see they were truly feeling the music throughout.

The real hero of the album is, of course, the organ. That freaking organ, bubbling and gurgling away, really brings the whole album together. The rest of the band is strong but it just wouldn’t be what it is without Booker T’s organ playing selling it all. The melodies he creates throughout are enough to leave a lasting impression on you. Even when he’s busting out an instrumental version of the vocal tracks from Twist and Shout ( a Beatles cover that they manage to make even more fun and danceable than the original) it really adds another level to the music itself. There’s not much else to say but damn that organ is fucking sweet.

This whole album really had a summer music feel to it for me. It’s the kind of album you play during a summer’s day as it compliments the feel to it so well. From getting up and dancing to cruising in the car with your sunglasses on because you’re a cool cat like that, to even just strutting your stuff down the street (people do that right? No… of course they don’t, but we all do it in our heads). The point is there’s a lot of warmth to this album, which is surprising seeing how damn cool it is. It’s hard not to have a swagger in your step when listening to it and even if you’re not walking, it definitely manges to have you toe-tapping.

If I had one problem with this album it was that sometimes the songs fade out way too soon. This album as a whole felt way too short. I was surprised when I saw I was on the last song and thought to myself “That’s it?”. I wanted more, way more. Even with certain songs I felt like they weren’t given enough time to truly be enjoyed. Right when you were getting into it, OH! It fades out and it’s over… what? WHY?! NO SONG COME BACK! COME BAAAAAACCCCCCCKKK!!! Thankfully every song was just as great as the last, so the feeling was there for merely seconds, but it could have been a little longer.

Just scrolled back up and saw the picture of soup… shouldn’t have done that because now I’m hungry. Did you know there’s actually a way to tell the difference between green onions and scallions? Yeah, the things you learn when searching the word green onions. Although, hat being said, the song is actually more popular than the vegetable as it appears number one on google search. That’s right, green onions the song is bigger than green onions the vegetable. Let that little tidbit keep you smiling when you’re blue.

Song of Choice: Twist and Shout

-Bosco

P.s. Here’s the link to that scallion and green onion difference thing, for your curiosity:

http://www.thekitchn.com/whats-the-difference-between-spring-onions-scallions-and-green-onions-word-of-mouth-217111

 

 

1001 Albums: Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music

#31

Artist: Ray Charles

Album: Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music

Year: 1962

Length: 39:33

Genre: Rhythm and Blues/Country

 

 

“No you don’t know the one
Who dreams of you at night
And longs to kiss your lips
Longs to hold you tight
Oh I am just a friend
That’s all I’ve ever been
‘Cause you don’t know me”

It’s happened to me again. It seems the version of the album I put onto my spotify playlist had a ton of extra songs included with it. I knew something was off when I checked how many songs were coming up and noticed there was an absurd amount compared to every album around it. But then again, I thought it was a possibility, heck there’s an album on this list in 1999 that is 69 songs, wasn’t crazy to think that Ray Charles just made a large album, even if it was unusual for the time.

My questions were answered when I checked it’s length and noticed it was only about 40 minutes. There was no way this many songs was only 40 minutes. It seems Spotify decided to put both vol. 1 and 2 togetehr as one on their site and if you look quickly you wouldn’t notice it. Look, I’m sure volume 2 is worth the time to listen to, but I’m sorry you’re not volume 1 so your place on this list is a little unwarranted and frankly a little intruding. So, I’m sorry volume 2, I will skip over you. But who knows, maybe one day I will come back and see you again… maybe.

I almost didn’t listen to this album when I did, choosing to save it for another day. Not because I was skipping it, I don’t skip any songs, but more the context of what i was doing. I felt I was in a position that I wouldn’t be able to properly listen to it and give it the attention it possibly deserved. But then again, this isn’t about me reviewing the albums, but about me chronicling my journey of listening to them. Two every different things. So I said fuck it and plugged into my Ipod.

Ever have one of those nights that aren’t bad but aren’t good? Overall it’s not a shitty night but more of an annoying one, where a lot of little things happen just to frustrate you, but never really ruin it? That was my night. I still got home feeling good and happy, but the whole trek home was just filled with frustration and some unlucky events.

I had gone out to a bar with some friends after work. Originally I was set on going home and was on my way home, but wouldn’t you know it, I run into some friends entering the metro and they decided to drag me along with them. I do not regret this decision because I always enjoy their company and had a good time.

What I do regret is letting them convince me to stay a little longer and catch my last bus rather than the one before that, which caused me to actually miss the last metro run. As I arrived to catch it, the security was locking the doors. Fantastic. It was odd to me because I had given myself enough time to catch my bus at my metro stop, so why was this closing before giving any of us to catch our last buses? I don’t know, life’s little mysteries.

So, here I was stuck on St-Denis street at 1 in the morning. I had two options: Return to the bar or grab the night bus. My phone was at 10%, I figured I best grab the night bus otherwise my mom would have a stroke wondering if I died or not. Night bus is great because it comes every ten minutes roughly, which is very convenient. Unfortunately for me, this particular occasion the next bus was cancelled and the one after that never showed up, giving me lot’s of time to stand in the cold and wait.

To make matters worse, I had to piss really badly. Four glasses of beer will do that to you. You would think that maybe, just maybe, there’d be one place open that I could sue their bathroom. Nope. This forced me to do one of the things I hate doing most: Public Urination. Not only because it’s a crime but I just don’t feel comfortable doing it at all. I had no choice. When your faced with the option to piss your pants or break the law, I think the latter is the best option. No way I was making my journey home smelling like beer piss.

It was fine, perpendicular to the main street was a small side street with little to no human traffic and even less since it was 1 in the morning. Right next to one of the restaurants I enjoy dining at, there was a small alleyway where they dump their garbage. I figured this would be the best place to piss, the restaurants were long closed, so no employees would be walking out at all and who the fuck would just walk down this alleyway. Plus, I could hide behind the dumpster in case any passes the alley on the street. It was the perfect plan.

It wasn’t. Obviously, I mean Obviously, this alleyway was the perfect place for this random couple to just walk in as I was pissing. I mean, 1 am, no one in sight, dark alleyway behind dumpsters and restaurants, I should have expected there to be people walking by. It was perfectly logical. Whatever, they don’t know me and never will. Shake, zip up, wait for bus, forget experience (sort of)…

I’m sitting on the bus, for what I know will be a long ride. Some young, gay couple are sleepily sitting, looking at their phones. Some fat, black dude sits and happily enjoys his shwarma. A red head girl sits near me, glancing at me every so often. Sorry dude, I’m taken. Some guy walks in with a giant bag of onions… because. A group of guys wearing spring jackets and no hats walk in and make a lot of noise. No idea how they’re not frozen, but it doesn’t matter, I’m plugged into my Ipod, trying my best to understand this Ray Charles album.

I didn’t really get it. The whole bus ride I had the album playing and I just couldn’t figure it out. I was trying to formulate some thoughts on it, listen to it and figure out what made it worthy of being on this list and… I just couldn’t. It’s not a bad album. The music isn’t horrible or anything. But it just didn’t feel like anything that stood out for me.I heard this stuff before on albums in the 50s. A lot of it had a very Frank Sinatra vibe, musically and lyrically, that Sinatra just did better. Ray Charles is a talented guy. he can sing with emotion and can play the piano like no man’s business. But… it didn’t feel like he was really doing anything different here. His piano barely even appeared, which As I said on “Genius of Ray Charles” that’s when he really shined. When it was just him and his piano taking the stage. This was just an entire album of songs similar in style to the opening songs on his last album on the list, the ones I felt were the weakest of the album. You’re a blind pianist for chrissakes, you have the best gift you can ever have, why aren’t you using this to your advantage. The best parts for me were when the piano came in, nice and loud. Every time it did, my heart skipped a beat and my eyes lit up, it was beautiful.

I didn’t get it. Usually I would have done a little research on the album to get a little insight, but my phone was dead, so that was impossible to do.

Anyway, the bus finally arrives to the last stop (yeah, apparently I live far) and I get off to wait for my second night bus. Yes, a second bus, one that wouldn’t come for another 30 damn minutes. There I was waiting for the bus, trying to figure out Ray Charles, freezing in minus god knows what weather. It was cold. I am not exaggerating when I say it was completely fucking cold. Through the jacket and down to the bone. I tried so hard to seek warmth but everything around me was locked. I had to tough it up. It was horrendously cold. Probably the longest 30 minutes I ever had to experience in my life.

You have never seen anyone so happy to be getting onto a bus. I ran with glee onto that bus. I may have scared the bus driver, but I didn’t give a shit. I was warm again! Warmth, beautiful warmth, that last exactly fifteen minutes. And then I got off. This was it, the final stretch of my journey home. Walk ten blocks.

I ran. I ran so hard, almost tripping on the ice-covered sidewalks multiple times. I figured at least I have music playing… oh… battery in Ipod died… fucking great. I ran. I kept going, my goal in sight. It was almost 3 in the morning, I could do this. I will make it home.

Obviously I did, otherwise I wouldn’t be here writing this, but man did it remind me how much I hate staying out late at night and having to endure the inconvenience of making my way home. I’d like to say this won’t happen again, but chances are it will. It will always happen again.

Before my Ipod died, I was able to listen to the entirety of the album (an unawaringly to about five songs on volume 2). Head filled with questions, I needed to figure out this album.

This album has an entire section dedicated to it on it’s cultural impact. Yeah, imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon it. You see, this album did something I didn’t notice, not knowing every single thing about music ever. It was an experiment in genres and styles. Ray Charles did do something new I hadn’t noticed, he dabbled in Country music. Due to his musical style, I never noticed that he was actually reworking old country songs into a rhythm and blues format. This changes the album completely. Had I known that from the beginning, I probably would have thought of it differently, but hey we each have our own experiences. Apparently, this album single-handedly got country music back onto the radar of the masses and future country icons would even cite this album as being hugely influential to them. Yeah… this album made country music popular again… thanks Ray.

My hate for country music aside, he really did something remarkable here. he stripped away any semblance of the country style and completely remade each song into something widely different to it’s original counterparts. We have all heard covers before, but for the most part covers don’t stray to far away from the original. This is nothing like the originals and what covers should aspire to be. this is a cover done in the most original way. Ray Charles takes them as his own and makes them sound completely new. It all makes sense to me now.

Did you know this album would also cause Ray Charles to become one of the first Black musicians to have full independent control of the production of his music? Yeah, that’s pretty damn cool. he was opening doors for his brothers and equality, which is always a good thing.

The album is definitely a product of it’s time. Listening to it now, without context of music in 1962, it’s understandable why I dismissed it so easily my first time around. This probably won’t show up on any of my playlists in the future, but at least now it all makes sense to me, and to me, just knowing that is good enough.

Song of Choice: Hey, Good Lookin’

-Bosco

P.s. The title is quite literal knowing this now.

Photoshop Credit: Julian Branco

 

 

1001 Albums: Sunday at the Village Vanguard

#30

Artist: Bill Evans Trio

Album: Sunday at the Village Vanguard

Year: 1961

Length: 68:16 (???)

Genre: Jazz

 

 

“Slapping upward Bass”

I had one hell of a day at work today. Usually my days go by pretty smoothly and for the most part I don’t exert that much energy. But today they had me running around almost non-stop. it’s actually rare that I do that many runs in one single day.

For those wondering, I currently work as a runner at a film studio that specialises in post-production. The job itself isn’t anything crazy (doing dishes and running for lunch orders isn’t the most exciting) but it does expose me to the business and is giving me some valuable experience. So today, from the start of my shift at 1, I was on lunch runs, which usually calms down by 2. Not today, went on until 2:30. That’s not all. The runs usually are minimized to one location, going back and forth purchasing sandwiches. Today, I had to run to a restaurant five blocks away, pick up some sandwiches and a coffee at the regular place on the way back and then buy two soups in the building. Imagine me carrying all this stuff at once and trying to open doors. It was exactly as much fun as it was.

Did I get a break? for five minutes until at 3 I had to go pick up vases at the Dollar Store. No, not the one nearby. the one that required me to walk ten minutes to the metro, hop on, change metro lines and go a few stations. This culminated in me carrying ten glass vases all the way back, fear of them shattering on me lasting the entire way.

Get back and almost immediately they tell me I have another run to pick up breakfast items at The Metro nearby. After my scheduled one hour break of course. Metro run was uneventful except for a fun pee break where I had to use their bathroom, but it was one of those where you needed a key, but someone was already in there and then came back and when I grabbed the keys they were all wet. yeah…

The rest of the night would follow as thus:

-Huge confusion with one of the supper orders

-Special task of cleaning swiffer pads

-Special task of cleaning all the chairs in the kitchens

-ended that quickly to instead go dust the tops of every frame in the studio

Needless to say, I ended the night feeling physically exhausted for once instead of mentally exhausted. Believe it or not, it actually felt good and I found that really refreshing. Also, a plus side to the day was that it passed by super quickly and I never had a moment of long boredom, walking aimlessly around looking for something to do.

I think Bill Evans had perfect timing, appearing on the list at the exact right moment for me. There’s absolutely no better way to end the night, your entire body tired and mind calm, than listening to some good fucking Jazz. Everyone knows my story with Jazz already (and if you don’t, read my other posts), so I won’t go on again about the effect Jazz can have on me, but you can probably already imagine how rewarding it was to sit back in the metro on the way home and just get lost in the music.

Did you know this album is widely considered to be the greatest Jazz recording ever? I didn’t. I guess I can see why. Did you know this was a live album? Yup, I got to listen to two live albums in a row. However, I won’t delve into the idea of the live album like I usually do because this album is a live album in the same way Frank Zappa’s albums were live albums. Sure a lot of it was recorded as a “Live” performance but the goal wasn’t to make a live album but to make a coherent album. The only time you’re ever given the vibe that it’s a live album is the awkward clapping sounds (that honestly sound like bad foley work than actual clapping) that appear between songs. Also, it’s interesting to note how some of the song names actually include notes like Take 2 or Take 3 on them, implying they did more than one take of it at a live venue to make sure they got they were able to choose the one they wanted for the album. It’s as if they used the live venue as a studio rather than an actual live performance.

The music itself is pretty damn wonderful. Bill Evans just swims his fingers over that piano, giving us some beautiful melodies from classic jazz and sometimes smashes his hands against it reminiscent of some hard bop we’ve heard before (looking at you Brilliant Corners). He gives a little slice of every jazz styling while still being accessible to the average listener, which is nice of him.

For me, though, the real hero of the music was the bass. This is probably one of the best bassist’s I have ever heard. It’s rare that you get to put the bassist in high regard, who is often drowned out by the rest of the music or just there to play a simple melody throughout. But this bassist slaps away at his standing Bass with so much glee and energy that he brings the bass right there at the front and makes you notice him. The bass doesn’t just play simple melodies here, it goes complex, almost as if the bassist is shredding on the bass in the way Eddie Van Halen does with his guitar. If finger-picking was a technique for bassists, this guy would be the guy to invent it (even though he didn’t, but that’s definitely how it sounds). There’s nothing more awesome than the sound of the upright Bass. The noise of the strings still vibrating after being picked, the sound of them slapping against the backboard, the sound of the finger (sometimes asgressively in the most beautiful way possible)picking the string, it really gives for a whole different vibe. Honestly, if it weren’t for the bass in this album, I don’t think it would have stood out as much as it did.

What makes it more fascinating is that this group was just a trio. Just three dudes playing a piano, drum and bass together. For only three instruments they succeeded in feeling like a whole orchestra, the music feeling just as layered as the bigger ensembles feel. It’s more impressive hearing how tight they are together, blending their instruments together to form each song in a seamless way. I can see why critics have considered this a top-notch jazz album.

But cut out that damn clapping, honestly, it sounds awful.

Song of Choice: Solar

-Bosco

Photoshop Credit: Julian Branco

1001 Albums: At Newport 1960

#29

Artist: Muddy Waters

Album: At Newport 1960

Year: 1960

Length: 32:38

Genre: Chicago Blues/ Live

 

 

“Got my mojo working, but it just won’t work on you”

Once again the 1001 Album list throws a live album my way. I am still trying to figure out why they decided to include live albums and I swear I will figure it out… one day. For now it’s still speculation. Is it because they didn’t know which album to choose of that particular musician, so they chose a live album that just includes their best stuff? Is it because that particular performance was an incredible one that left a mark on music history? Was it a big moment in that musician’s career, thus being an important album for them?

… I think I may have answered my initial question because those all make sense. But why a live album over one of their studio albums? Why would this particular live album be more important to hear over any of his studio albums? I mean, if that’s the case, why didn’t they just choose the live albums of every band on this list?

Who knows… but until then I got to enjoy some Chicago Blues. I was wondering when I’d get some blues on this list, was a little disappointed with the lack of blues in the 50s, especially since both Blues and Jazz were the two big genres in the black community. But doesn’t matter because it finally arrived and what better way to experience the blues than through Muddy Waters himself. Muddy Waters a master of the blues guitar.

If you don’t believe me (I keep saying this) check it out. He plays that electric son of a bitch with so much soul that it’s as if the guitar itself is a member of the band. It’s hard to make a guitar sing, but Muddy sure knows how. I think that was part of the beauty of Blues, though. The musician didn’t just feel the emotion, he had it seep through the instrument itself. If a guitar could cry it would definitely be done in the blues. Songs usually have the power to make the listener feel emotions, but it’s not everyday that you hear the emotions being felt by the instrument itself. But when you do, it’s something quite special.

I haven’t listened to much Muddy Waters in my life, but if he’s half as good as his performance on this album than there’s no reason to not enjoy any of it. He comes across as energized and just having the time of his life (I can only speculate since it’s purely audio and I can’t actually see the performance). I would be surprised if I found out that the spectators weren’t dancing by the end of it. He starts off the set with some cooler playing but slowly builds up into a fun, upbeat performance that is hard not to get into. Although, why he did a part 1 and 2 of Got My Mojo Working is beyond me, especially since it just sounded like he played the exact same song, but a little shorter, a second time. The crowd was really loving it and he felt it would be best to play it again? I don’t know, but thankfully it kept the feeling going, so maybe Muddy knew exactly what he was doing.

I have to say, and this is an observation I’ve made, but there’s something about these black musicians. Every time I had an album by one, they always came off as really cool. The white musicians, for the most part, were great, but never cool like this. I had a conversation with a friend of mine about this and we both came to the conclusion that Black People are just inherently the coolest people ever. That seems like a bold statement, but really think about it. Think about every black person you’ve met. For the most part, they walk around with this confident swagger not seen in most people. Say what you will about their experiences with racism, but black people are amongst the most confident people I know, especially when it comes to music. Think about it, every white friend I have who does music, when asked about their projects always say “Well, I’m working on a few things at the moment. Got some ideas brewing around.” Ask your black friend and he’ll probably say “Already got me and my buddies in the studio and recorded the shit out of our newest album. check it out, here it is.” No joke. When I was in New York, strolling down the crowded streets in the main center of the city, who were the ones lining the sidewalks getting every passerby to grab their newest rap CD? That’s right, Black dudes. No white dude in sight, just a ton of black guys pushing and pushing to get everyone to grab their art. One even managed to get 50 bucks off of my friend just because he kept pushing.

I know it may seem negative, but what I’m saying is very positive. I admire that confidence and coolness they have. Heck, I wish I was that confident and cool. Who do you usually find complaining about their insecurities and being weak and fragile as people? White people. If you don’t believe me, compare a skinny white girl to a fat black chick. It makes a world of difference. I dare you to find me someone more confident than a fat, black chick, especially if she’s incredibly sassy. It’s almost impossible.

Musicians like Muddy Waters, Miles Davis and Duke Ellington are proof of that. Most musicians wish they could be as cool as they were. Heck, flash forward to 1989 and you’ll find yourself amidst Black Hip-hop groups standing together, speaking out and having their voices heard. Do you think punk groups like The Clash had the same amount of confidence that those groups had? Hell no. Took a lot of balls for NWA to start a riot about the police after strictly being told not too… by the police. All the white groups did was sort of go “Our government kind of sucks and society kind of sucks” (not giving the punk genre nearly enough credit here), doesn’t take much confidence to do that, I could do that.

Ok, so I don’t know if any of what I said really is true. But what I do know is that so far all my experiences with black people have been that they’re just really cool and confident people. This was definitely no exception to that feeling and I even found myself a little sad when the album ended, feeling it was much shorter than I expected. I found myself surprised when I realised I was on the last song, feeling like I had just zoomed right through the album. I was so immersed into the album that I was hoping there’d be way more than there was. That’s usually a good sign… time to listen to more Muddy Waters.

Song of Choice: Tiger in your Tank

-Bosco

Photoshop Credit: Julian Branco

 

 

 

1001 Albums: Back at the Chicken Shack

#28

Artist: Jimmy Smith

Album: Back at the Chicken Shack

Year: 1960 (1963)

Length: 37:50

Genre: Soul Jazz

 

 

“Smooth Organ playing”

Before I get started I feel it’s very important to set you, the reader, straight about something first. This might seem like a disappointment right off the bat, but believe me when I say it really isn’t. You’ll feel betrayed but the album will redeem itself, you’ll have to trust me on this one.

Are you ready? ok…

For an album called Back at the Chicken Shack there is a surprisingly huge lack of chickens in it. I know, I know… it’s appalling… awful… plain unforgiving.

Not even a cluck or a gobble? No, not even.

So to satisfy your poultry needs here’s a picture of a beautiful chicken wearing pants:

There, now we can all sleep happily.

I think Jimmy Smith saved my life. Ok, that might be a gross exaggeration. I was coming off the heels of the Everly Brother’s and there whiny voices, wondering if music could ever be good again and as Cathy’s Clown (expletive removed) faded to obscurity never to be heard again, this album started. This beautiful, beautiful album.

This album probably seemed way better than it really was only because it followed A Date with the Everly Brothers and my mind went from “God please end” to “Jazz, my old friend, never leave me again”. I think I’ve taken Jazz for granted all those times I wanted it to stop being clingy and it came back to save my life. I will never let you go Jazz, never again.

That being said, this album is pretty damn great. Jimmy Smith is one hell of an organ player and I honestly would sit through an entire album that consists only of him playing the organ layered on top of other organs. Just pure organ chaos. That’s an idea right there, someone should get on that.

As a whole, the jazz in the album doesn’t actually offer much. It’s no different than any of the jazz I heard on previous albums and for the most part, doesn’t stand out as it’s own. That is… except for one crucial element: The Organ (as mentioned above). The Organ is really what ties the album together and allows it to surpass expectations and go beyond what we know jazz to be. It’s also thanks to this album and Jimmy Smith’s playing that the organ itself started to find it’s way into jazz albums and mainstream music. if it weren’t for this, Soul Jazz probably wouldn’t have really been a thing, which is a shame because it’s quickly become one of my favourite stylings of Jazz.

And before you get a weird visual in your head, no it’s not a church organ I’m talking about. It’s that one special organ we’ve all come to love (at least those who have listened to it). It’s none other than the famous Hammond B3 Organ.

Pictured here so you can visualise it in all its glory.

It’s quite the amazing instrument and even though you might have no idea what I’m talking about (although some of you most probably do), you have most definitely heard this before. The gurgling and bubbling synthetic organ noises that sound as if they’re being played through an underwater speaker. The crisp sustain that wahs and the plucky fast notes that blurp and bloop. My onomatopeic descriptions are hardly doing it justice, but that gives you more reason to listen to this album to see for yourself.

Obviously, I can’t end this without mentioning the skills of the other band mates who hold up a majority of the songs with their own instruments. The sax playing is just beautifully done and I got excited every time I heard a sax solo. Although the organ is the true hero of the album, the rest of the band plays their part in bringing it together as a whole, which required a ton of skill and precision on their parts often seen in jazz but should still not go unnoticed. We see you back there, don’t worry.

This was also an instance where I listened to the extended CD version rather than the original LP. Thankfully, unlike the Marty Robbins album that added songs and completely rearranged them, this one only tacked on one song at the end and I didn’t mind at all. One more song meant more Jimmy Smith to enjoy and since it was just tacked on at the end it was like a little bonus to my listening experience.

Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go find some chickens. Not for anything weird…  I just  like to watch them… they’re funny… right?

Song of Choice: Back at the Chicken Shack

-Bosco

Photoshop Credit: Julian Branco

1001 Albums: A Date with the Everly Brothers

#27

Artist: The Everly Brothers

Album: A Date with the Everly Brothers

Year: 1960

Length: 27:55

Genre: Pop Rock

 

 

“One day soon you’ll have a date & take her home at night
You’ll wonder as you look at her, would a kiss be right?
The more you look, the more you’ll find those doubts will fill your head”

These guys suck. I’m not kidding. Listening to this album was a very sedated form of torture. Like, I wasn’t actually being tortured but man was it grating to my ears. It’s not that this album was bad, it wasn’t that bad, it’s that the Everly Brothers themselves just plain fucking suck.

So that last sentence was probably confusing, so I’ll try to explain it best I can. Musically, this album was good but as a whole it doesn’t have much to offer both lyrically and vocally. Especially not fucking vocally, oh dear god not vocally. It’s not at these guys can’t sing, it’s that they have awful fucking voices that in no way should even be considered nice to listen to. It’s bad enough that lyrically we’re given a look into a teenage boys diary days, the kind of music that plays in teenage diner jukeboxes, being listened to by 50s cheerleaders and jocks sharing a milkshake with two straws, doing goo-goo eyes to each other. Real cheesy love shit that must have been a hit with prudish little teeny-boppers bopping away and doing the twist or some shit like that.

As if the lyrics weren’t grating enough their sung by the fucking Everly Brothers who nasally whine their way through every single song. It’s not so much singing but more obnoxious whining made with vaguely prepubescent voices. They sound as if someone took the chipmunks and lowered the pitch of their voices… badly. As my friend Graham said, “It’s like they were born conjoined by the testicles and were separated, each keeping one testicle”. It’s never high-pitched, but it’s not a normal pitch I’ve ever heard on a man or boy or even a girl. I don’t even know what’s going on with their voices, but half-way through the album, I just couldn’t take it anymore, I wanted it to stop. The fact I even survived by the end of it is a miracle in and of itself. At one point they sing: “They say that everyone loves someone. So how come, no-one, loves me?”. Maybe it’s because you guys sound like prepubescent farts.

Actually, that would have been a better album, just remove the vocals and replace them with farts. Just fucking farts trumpeting over the instrumental tracks. That would have been better. I would have actually enjoyed it.

It came to the point I wasn’t even listening to the vocals anymore and was just trying to enjoy the instruments, and wouldn’t you know it, I land on a song that starts to fade out in a way where I can only hear the vocals. The goddamn vocals. God, these fucking vocals.

You know what? They should just strip the vocals and make this purely an instrumental album. I’m serious because the only thing standing in the way of this being great is the singing because the instrumental tracks are actually pretty great and I whole-heartedly believe that they would work purely on their own. The opening song itself plays on a riff with a guitar sound reminiscent to surf rock, which I found myself dancing to because it was pretty damn cool. A few other songs adapt other various rock forms, from blues influenced  grooves to boogie-woogie bass lines and some fun jingle-jangle, hi-top cymbal smashing action. It’s nothing truly amazing, but it’s good enough for what it is.

That’s one of the albums biggest flaws and what also works for it, is that it doesn’t offer much and you have to take it for what it is, just a pop rock album. On the one hand it’s easy to see how an album like this was influential for bands that would soon come along like The Beatles (and that’s not saying much because I’m not really a fan of the Beatles), the playing style and even the cheesy lyrics, which The Beatles definitely did way better than these dudes. I’m guessing it’s an important album to listen to to get that idea of Teeny-bopper jukebox music that all the young kids were listening to at the time as it does have it’s place in History, and every teen movie set in the fifties (even though this album is from 1960, go figure), but the notion of just looking at something for what it is, is a dangerous idea to play. While for some bands (Like the Aquabats) it works in their favour, something like this makes it just an excuse to be bland, boring and uninspiring. It shouldn’t be an excuse and this album mostly comes across that way, just a ton of filler.

Filler until the last song hits. The last song on the album was their hit, one of their biggest hits. A song that I know to well. Already I was dealing with the nonsense filler that plagued the rest of this album, only to be met with the final song. Cathy’s Clown. Cathy’s Fucking Clown.

I like this song. It’s the only song on the whole album where I actually tolerated their vocals because their nasally whines actually suited the song. It also helps that it’s the only song that Lyrically actually offers a little more than just your base love song, but the needs of the song are actually accentuated by the crap of their voices (believe it or not). My dad used to have this compilation CD thing he got from Reader’s Digest when I was really young and he would play the music from it a lot. It exposed me to a ton of old 60s tunes and on it was this one. Cathy’s Clown was one of the songs and I heard it, I heard it a lot. So Imagine my shock when it came on and brought me back to hearing it all those years ago, which I’ll be honest was one of the songs I never really paid attention to, but somehow still knew the words. God bless you Cathy’s Clown, you son of a bitch.

I hope I never have to hear the Everly Brothers sing a-fucking-gain. Their voices will plague my nightmares for days to come. Already I find myself imitating that nasally whine and it keeps passing through my mind over and over again. If you ever want to clear a party, play a copy of this album with the instruments stripped and only the vocals blaring through the speakers. i can guarantee people will leave before their ears bleed, or they’ll stay and die… whichever works.

Song of Choice: Cathy’s Clown

-Bosco

P.s. Here she coooOOOooOoOOoOOomes that’s CAaaAAthy’s ClOOOooOoOooOown.

Photoshop Credit: Julian Branco

1001 Albums: Miriam Makeba

#26

 

Artist: Miriam Makeba

Album: Miriam Makeba

Year: 1960

Length: 34:42

Genre: African Music

 

 

” Igqira lendlela nguqo ngqothwane
Sebeqabele gqi thapha bathi nguqo ngqothwane”

The sixties are already meeting my expectations of diversity. So far I’ve listened to three albums and each has been wildly different than the last, and none have been JAZZ! Not that I don’t like jazz, I just needed a break from it. What I like about the 1001 Albums list is that they took the time to include some world music, in this case, straight out of Africa. That’s great because it’s exposing me to music I otherwise would never have heard ever.

I’ll be honest, I’ve had a little exposure to the arts in African culture. I worked at a day camp for five years and three of those years I was part of the artistic camp, where we would teach kids different art forms and each week was dedicated to a specific art (Theatre, Music, Dance, Painting, Rhythm, Cooking, etc.). Well, one summer, we did something interesting, each art would be joined with a country and our goal was to teach the art form from that country’s culture to the kids. In this particular instance, it was African Theatre.

I knew absolutely nothing about African Theatre, but that’s part of what was cool of the job, in order to teach the kids, I had to learn a lot on my own. It was definitely an enriching experience as I expanded my knowledge on arts and culture.

African Theatre was fascinating. We got to teach the kids all about how African Theatre was based on storytelling, masks were a big part of it and it was very corporal (meaning they used their bodies very heavily as part of their performance). Often told by a narrator and a group of actors performing what the narrator was telling. The fun part, especially for the kids, is that the characters were often times Animals. That’s what we did. We told the story of this humongous, selfish Hippo who would invade people’s homes and privacy and the other animals banded together to teach him a lesson. The kids loved it and were so into it, we had costumes and face paint (for both the animals and narrators) and every kid had a role. One kid volunteered to play the hippo’s butt, that’s how much they were into it.

Working with kids is a really rewarding experience, especially when they light up and get involved in the activities you do. Kids can be a hassle, but when they’re working together and having a great time, it’s totally worth having to deal with the negative moments.

Following year, during our Singing week, we had a music teacher come in and teach the kids various songs that we performed at the end of the week for the entire camp. She chose songs that were adapted to the different age groups, but one particular song was performed by the entire artistic camp: La Ren Soleil (not sure if that’s the correct spelling, but you get the gist). It was a traditional African song about planting… plants and cultivating them and hoping the rain will come down and make them grow. The kids loved it and the camp counsellors were equally into it because it came with hand gestures and little dance movements that we all got really into. There was an integration camp at the day camp and a boy with autism was put with us that week and it was his favourite song. To see him be able to perform a song with us was truly a touching moment.

My point is, I’ve been exposed to some African music (we also had some African guy come in and teach us about African rhythm and clapping your hands and the different style of African dancing and how its based on tasks and chores they did, but if I started talking details of everything we learned this post would be way too long). That song I mentioned above is exactly the type of music that was on this album. It’s the first thing I thought of when listening to this and it brought back memories of being with the kids and teaching them. I associated that with this album, which felt like it could have easily been part of a kid’s show. But learning that a lot of the songs (like The Click Song for example) were traditional songs from her home town of Johannesburg, it makes sense that I got that feeling from it.

I understood none of what she said but it didn’t matter because you can just feel the vibe of tradition and old times seeping through. There was something rather peaceful of the whole thing and I think that came from the simplicity of it all. There was nothing complex going on but it was part of it’s charm. It never tries to be what it’s not, but instead wants you to be aware of the traditions that it came from, which is very nice. Also, Miriam has a beautiful voice. She sings with power and ease in a calm, blissful tone that is often accompanied by male back-up, who never distract and only add to the experience of the songs. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out Miriam was a kindergarten teacher, because that’s the vibe she gives off through the whole thing.

It was also interesting to see the influence that this type of music had on western culture.  want to make specific mention to her song Mbube. Obviously, you reading this, have no idea what the song is, but if you heard it you’d recognize it very easily. It’s heavily reminiscent of the popular song we all love to sing: The Lion Sleeps Tonight. The famous Owimowe and EEEEEEEEEEEEE, comes from this song. It’s not directly the same, but you can see the Tokens borrowed heavily from this, especially since the Lion Sleeps Tonight takes place in Africa. When the song started and the familiarity kicked in, I found myself enjoying the song way more than I expected.

Before I end this, I want to talk about a specific song that really stood out for me: One Last Dance. This is one of the few songs where she sung in English, so I understood everything she was singing, which was nice. But what really took my attention was her co-singer, Charles Coman. Throughout the song Miriam is singing about her sick and dying husband and this asshole is laughing the whole way through. No joke, he’s full on laughing and can barely keep it together when he sings that her husband is dead. There’s another line where he mentions his will will run red (or something along those lines) and he can’t even say the line because his laughter just bursts out in one long breathy gasp. What is going on?! This is one of the most absurd things ever. Why is this asshole laughing about her husband dying? Is it bad that I couldn’t stop laughing and found this to be incredibly funny (especially the parts where he’s having difficulty holding it in)? Was it supposed to be funny? I sure hope so… like what happened? Was Charles having a laughing fit in the sound booth while recording and couldn’t do another take for whatever reason? It’s so fascinating, I would love an explanation to this. Honestly, if you get the chance, check it out for yourself.

Miriam is a beautiful, beautiful soul and this is a beautiful, beautiful album. I never thought I’d be this into African Music, but it definitely convinced me it’s worth checking out.

Song of Choice: Mbube

-Bosco

Photoshop Credit: Julian Branco