Bob Dylan- “Blonde on Blonde”

After causing something of a stir by what is now infamously know as his “going electric”, Dylan released two albums (“Bringing it All Back Home” and “Highway 61 Revisited”) in 1965, but it is this album of 1966- with its increasingly surreal lyrics and often woozy mixture of blues, rock and melody- that is considered by many to be one of his finest pieces of work.

“Blonde on Blonde” starts with hilariously nonchalant “Rainy Day Women # 12 and 35”. The song is a lazy sounding little ditty which is filled with a giddy combination of harmonicas, trumpets, tinkling pianos, the sound of raucous laughter and, on top of it all, Dylan’s voice croaking out “Everyone must get stoned”.

However, for a lot of it, the rest of the album is much more downbeat and wistful. After suffering major backlash from both the press and his fans, “Blonde on Blonde” is a haunting, introspective glance in the mirror by a man trying to cope with massive burdens and expectations. In one of the albums highlights, “Visions of Johanna”, Dylan sings “Little boy lost/ He takes himself so seriously/ He brags of his misery”, revealing exactly the kind of fragile, yet creative, mind displayed laying itself out on the record.

Besides this, it’s the ragged and disjointed musical patchwork of storming rock ‘n’ roll, blues revival and near perfectly kitsch pop harmonies, all of which provide the backdrop for the lyrics, that stand out on the album. “I Want You”- with its wistful chord changes, jangly guitar lines and chirpy drums- could not be improved to make more of a brilliant pop song if it were reworked over a hundred years. “Leopard-skin Pill-box Hat”, meanwhile, is the heart, soul and the aching liver of decade upon decade of the blues. With the rhythm guitar strumming out a raw set of chords, the organ thrusting its shine over the top and the lead guitar screaming the unhinged, unrehearsed lines over the top- not to mention Dylan’s smoky, 190 year old voice spitting out literally the most bizarre lyrics in the world- this is the sound of Bob Dylan and his band venting their collective anger and misery through the time honoured method of raw blues.

“Blonde on Blonde” has a fragmented tone, full of bitterness, regret, joy, playfulness and sarcasm. This is most likely to do with the fact the Dylan was romantically involved with three different women at the time just as much as it has to do with his struggle to cope with the status forced upon him. Despite this, the album was a huge success- commercially and critically- and has gone down in history as one of the greatest albums ever. Maybe it was his bruised and exhausted mind that gave him creative licence to pour out his heart and spray it all over this album. Maybe it was an attempt at a cathartic activity for a man in the midst of a breakdown. Either way, “Blonde on Blonde” is an album which words like “classic”, “masterpiece” and “genius” don’t even get close to doing justice.

Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat

Stuck Indside of Mobile with The Memphis Blues Again

Radiohead- “Amnesiac”

Recorded mostly during the same sessions for “Kid A”, Radiohead described these two albums, released in 2000 and 2001, as “twins separated at birth”. Considering that “Kid A” is on fairly good terms with bleakness, it shouldn’t be taken lightly that “Amnesiac” is the creepy, fucked up sibling of the two.

The album opens with the sinister “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box” which now sounds like classic Radiohead, combining light but glitchy computerised beats, weirdly timed keyboard sounds and gargling lyrics such as “I’m a reasonable man, get off my case”. The song threatens to break out into a swooping chorus or a thrilling climax, but the fact that it never quite makes it only adds to its intensity.

During “Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors”, some of Radiohead’s most fascinating qualities really hit full stride. Starting with an intermittent beat, the odd blast a shit scary discordant piano and the sound of far away wind chimes, the song goes on to flit between genuinely eery to the genuinely uplifting. With most other bands, this would probably be the sound of the lead singer’s head disappearing completely up in his own arse, but with Radiohead, it’s the sound of a band with full creative freedom.

“You And Whose Army?” is, possibly, the most conventional song on the album. It’s deceptively simple, for the most part just combining some simple, progressive chords and Thom Yorke’s soothingly falsetto voice, but when the bass leads into the final climax where the drums, piano and guitars flow together, it’s one of the most relaxing things in the world.

The next song, “I Might Be Wrong”, destroys any bliss we may have and restores us, nicely, to the feeling of uneasiness. “Knives Out” continues much in the same way. The elegant guitar of Johnny Greenwood creates a reflective backdrop for Thom Yorke’s bleak, sad wailing in what is a truly brilliant song.

“Morning Bell”, of which another version features on ”Kid A”, really highlights the difference of these two albums. Where the “Kid A” version is oddly uplifting and progresses into what is almost an anthem, the “Amnesiac” version creeps around like a serial killer picking his next victim. Although it has the same lyrics, it is a million times more desolate and nasty.

The album finishes with the bizarre “Life in a Glass House” which is almost the classic downbeat, piano led formula of Radiohead (as if Radiohead have a “formula”) only with numerous jazz instruments purring, pirouetting and shrieking to create an odd, but glorious, groovy funeral march.

Although it may be overshadowed by it’s “twin”, “Amnesiac” is a fantastic album. It’s a truly experimental and haunting record, even by the ridiculously high standards set by Radiohead themselves. What is always clear, whether you’re listening to it for the first time or the 200th, is that “Amnesiac” is a really fucked up, nasty piece of work. It’s dark and it’s scary, bleak and depressing. It’s a masterpiece.

You And Whose Army

I Might Be Wrong

Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box

Who's Next - The Who

Does anyone remember their youth? When a good friday night was cheap booze at a dirty party. When you’d hook up with that girl every week. When emotions were as powerful and as short lived as a tsunami. As the youngest member of this super-charged team of bloggers, I remember this well. In fact, now I think about it, all that stuff was still going on last week.

“We don’t care about your reminiscing though. Get onto the long-awaited new installment of Retro Sunday,” I hear you say (quite rudely, if you ask me). Well, let me introduce Who’s Next, the musical incarnation of teenhood, a shimmering rose-tinted mirror held up to the very institution of youthfulness. To summarise, a pretty sound album.

The album opens with an absolute anthem: Baba O’Riley (or Teenage Wasteland to the uneducated). It’s very difficult to argue with such potent lyrics as “It’s only teenage wasteland, and I’m wasted,” especially when combined with a few striking powerchords, and maybe even a naughty little violin. Sure, the song really doesn’t make a lot of sense in the literal meaning. I don’t really know who Sally is, nor why she’s travelling south ‘cross land but that only adds to its charm. Even so, it’s easy to pick up on one or two lyrics and enthusiastically shout along to them. “I don’t need to fight to prove I’m right. I don’t need to be forgiven,” is particularly nice when you need to convince yourself that laziness and immorality are, in fact, virtues. If The Who says so it must be true, right ?

Another highlight of the album has got to be Won’t Get Fooled Again.  This is another beautiful example of a song with no meaning but a lot of passion. I’m not sure what “I know that the hypnotised never lie,” means exactly, but I can really relate to it.  This might be because Roger Daltrey seems pretty fervent about it, and the drums are also rather snazzy.

However, it’s not all anger on this album. Oh no, let’s not forget Getting in Tune. Here we find soft harmonies and a real-life piano! Better still, have a gander at the lyrics:

I’m singing this note ’cause it fits in well
With the chords I’m playing
I can’t pretend there’s any meaning here
Or in the things I’m saying

Yes that’s right. This is actually the most truthful song ever written. That’s a fact. And you can’t argue with facts can you no?

I’m getting bored of writing this now, but I assure you that the other tracks are stunning. Behind Blue Eyes is perfect for anyone who’s ever felt victimised (aka everyone) and Water (only found on the CD version) quite accurately points out just how important H20 is to humanity.

Anyway, here’s a YouTube link for you. And if you fancy buying a fantastic album then maybe buy this.

Or don’t. Doesn’t really make any odds to me.

Lindisfarne isn’t a band concerned with reality. Songs about actual events are far too obvious and cliche. No, the band whose first album was titled Nicely Out of Tune, reminisce about times that never were and yearn to go home to somewhere you’ve never been.

After a bumptious instrumental the lyrics kick in with “Hey Mr Dream-Seller, where have you been? Tell me, have you dreams I can see?“. The song is called Meet Me On the Corner, and it doesn’t really have any meaning. No concrete meaning that is. Instead it hosts a myriad of emotions and a spectrum of memories.

The first time you hear it, you will enjoy the cheerfulness of the tune and smile at the concept of a dream-seller (“Well I’ve got time, if you deal in rhyme“). The second time you’ll grow more attached to. The third, more so. And onwards until you’re on your way to the corner “to fix a rendezvous, because your dreams are all I believe“.

There is no showbiz attitude to Lindisfarne. They don’t write songs about taking cocaine, or about looking good on the dance floor. They make the type of music to play whilst drinking ale with your friends. They are not from this century, and it’s only by a stroke of bad luck that they were born so late into the last.

So, get yourself some mead, settle yourself down, and have a listen. You will love it. And then “Down the empty streets we’ll disappear until the dawn, if you have dreams enough to share.”

Lindisfarne – Meet Me On the Corner

If you fancy buying their best of album (which you do), then click here.

Paul Simon – Graceland

It was with amazement that a friend of mine, who is neither ignorant nor uncultured, confessed to having never heard of Paul Simon and to not being able to name a song by Simon and Garfunkel. It is to him therefore that I dedicate this entry/cultural lesson/period of enlightenment.

Let’s put Graceland into context. The year is 1986, the Cold War is in full swing, none of the Spice Girls are older than 14, and the world if boycotting South Africa for its state of apartheid. Paul Simon has been well known for two decades, and hugely famous for one as a part of folk-duo Simon and Garfunkel. His most recent album Heart and Bones had been a failure so he was looking for a new path to take his music down. He found it in South Africa.

Although credited as a solo album, Paul was joined by many African and American musicians in creating Graceland. It marks a sharp contrast from most Simon and Garfunkel albums in that is shows a more colourful spectrum of styles, forms and cultures: from the Everley Brothers to Youssou N’Dour.

The album opens with The Boy in The Bubble, a subtle and cynical commentary on the dual bladed advancement of modern technology. “These are the days of miracle and wonder, This is a long distance call, The way the camera follows us in slow-mo, The way we look to us all.”

One of the most famous songs of the album is You Can Call Me Al. It splices together magical musical moments where you can’t quite name the feeling, with wide and worldly wisdom of the world and what it means to exist within it. But he maintains that, even when completely stranded in a foreign currency with no money or language, at the end of the day “I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, You can call me Al”.

That’s how reassuring life is in Graceland.

Gumboots offers, in my opinion, the greatest acknowledgment of the world’s beauty and its people’s optimism, in popular music. The chorus is “You don’t feel you could love me, But I feel you could” followed by an uplifting saxophone piece. The mood of the whole song is is so carefree and jovial, the third verse tells of a poetic meeting of two people:

I was walking down the street
When I thought I heard this voice say
Say, ain’t we walking down the same street together
On the very same day
I said hey Senorita that’s astute
I said why don’t we get together
And call ourselves an instituteÂ

That’s how refreshing life is in Graceland.

Video of You Can Call Me Al

 Gumboots

Website

Steve Winwood – Arc of a Diver

Steve Winwood is a fantastic soul musician. He’s not from Detroit. He’s not from Memphis. He’s from Birmingham. He’s not even black. Guess what? It doesn’t matter in the slightest.

Steve Winwood plays every instrument on this album, and also provides the vocals. While this could easily leave the album’s flavour quite raw and maybe bare it is actually very rich, whilst still being very nutrious – a sure nod to the chef’s musical prowess.

The first track, While You See a Chance, opens with an iconic keyboard piece, which he wrote on the spot after accidentally deleting his drums track. If ever there were to be evidence for fate, this would be it. This are the foundations upon which great monuments are built. The song is constructed from here on, from its melodic and almost holy origin to its peak at the chorus. Here, atop his masterpiece, Winwood preaches motivationally to the masses. When the song finishes there is an urge to rewind to the beginning, but if you aren’t quick enough you’ll be caught by its successor Arc of a Diver.

The main criticism I have of the album is that there is no unifying theme running through the album, nothing that stops it from being just a random compilation album. But with this dark thundering cloud there is a silver lining. Each song has a very different ambiance and emotional posture, carried by the music more deftly than by the lyrics.

Each track is delightful, with the exception of the fairly tedious Slowdown Sundown but I suppose not all albums can be as good as my previous entry‘s.

Steve Winwood, despite being almost 60, is on tour in the USA and Europe, having just finished his UK tour. Dates are on his Myspace

BUY

While You See a Chance

Arc of a Diver

It’s with great disappointment that I don’t introduce this album with “Here’s an album that needs no introduction,” but alas the 21st century is home to the evils of Guantanamo Bay, genocide in Sudan, and people who’ve never heard of Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts.

The album starts with the sound of a live audience. The band then stroll on and introduce themselves as Sgt Pepper, and his Lonely Hearts Club Band. The entirety of the first track is lyrical banter, telling the listener that he’s “Such a lovely audience” and that “The singer’s going to sing a song, and he wants you all to sing along.” They then introduce the main singer, Billy Shears (Ringo Starr) and, accompanied by screaming fans, he begins to sing With a Little Help From My Friends. There are few ways for an album to commence that are better than this. Q: How do they do it? A:It’s The Beatles.

I’d love to write a 1000 word piece for each song on this album but I haven’t the time, and you haven’t the patience. So instead for each track I have written a sentence which tries to sketch the climate of each piece.

Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band - The tingling start to the album which really makes you feel at home with the group.

With a Little Help From My Friends – Heartwarming and reassuring: if this song were to be a person s/he ‘d probably be your friend.

Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds – Depending on your view point, this song accurately describes either a vivid dream or an electrifying trip.

Getting Better – A pat on the back and motivational chat, in the form of a delightful song.

Fixing a Hole - This is a drowzy song about DIY and daydreams.

She’s Leaving Home – The two sides of the story of a girl leaving her family home, almost journalistic.

Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite – An advert for a Victorian circus (who would think of writing a song about that?)

Within You Without You – An indian sounding song about spirituality and human existence.

When I’m Sixty Four – A bumbling jolly song pondering the realities of elderly affection.

Lovely Rita – Here they serenade a parking attendant, and why not?

Good Morning, Good Morning – Possibly the best way to wakeup in the morning, smiles guaranteed.

Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band – An invigorated goodbye from the group.

A Day in the Life – A look at the final day of a man’s life, the end of a war and the daily rituals of an unknown person.

I’ve grown to accept that if you ask some people whether they prefer John or Paul they think you’re talking about two little blackbirds. But people who have listened to The Beatles and then claim all the songs sound the same are incredibly frustrating, and down right wrong. Download the MP3s and witness how diverse the music is. But as usual, they’re for evaluation only so if you like them be sure to go out and buy the album.

Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band revolutionised music and the view of the album. Listen to it, it’s your favourite album’s ancestor.

Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

Getting Better

Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite

A Day in the Life

Although it may seem like my musical taste revolves around ringtones and squawking, I did infact spend about two years denying the existence of any music released after 1978 (with the exception of Jay-Z strangely). Thus it seems logical that I mention my findings on inftc. So here is the first in a series of many. If I were to name it I might choose The Historical Study of Propa’ Bangin’ Old Skool Toonz or possibly Musical History: Without the Cock. Irrespective of its name, on which I may decide later, I hope you enjoy, learn and listen.

Yes – Close to the Edge

The album opens with birds singing: it’s at that point that you realise you’re in for a treat.

If you were to look up the definition of “prog rock” you would be given:

Progressive rock (shortened to prog, or prog rock when differentiating from other “progressive…” genres) is an ambitious, eclectic, and often grandiose style of rock music which arose in the late 1960s, reached the peak of its popularity in the early 1970s, and continues as a musical form to this day. Progressive rock began in England and remained largely a European movement, although there are a few notable American and Canadian progressive rock bands.

You would also probably see a picture of Close to the Edge’s album cover.

The album lasts around 40 minutes, which is split between 3 tracks. Technically it is, undebatedly, superb. Although in nature the album is as rocky as stone henge, its grandeur and symphonic properties give it a somewhat futuristic feeling.

Its lyrics are more debatable. If we look at the title song, its lyrics begin with:

A seasoned witch could call you from the depths of your disgrace,
And rearrange your liver to the solid mental grace,
And achieve it all with music that came quickly from afar,
Then taste the fruit of man recorded losing all against the hour.
And assessing points to nowhere, leading ev’ry single one.
A dewdrop can exalt us like the music of the sun,
And take away the plain in which we move,
And choose the course you’re running.

Down at the edge, round by the corner,
Not right away, not right away.
Close to the edge, down by a river,
Not right away, not right away.

Some claim they are deeply profound, and offer subtle insights into spirituality and human existence. I prefer to think that they’re nothing but pretencious and meaningless…

…And that’s what I love about them!

Q: Who’s heard that song about someone who misses his ex-girl/boyfriend?

A: Everyone. I just described an infinity of chart releases and indie remixes.

But with Yes you never know what to expect. Around every corner (and down by the river) is another surprise.

So taste the thrills with the mp3 supplied, and if you like it pop over to Amazon and treat yourself to a bit of Yes!

Close to the Edge