Johnny Cash - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1994/2004

On the other hand, when faced with a daunting discography like Johnny Cash’s, having limited access to an artist's discography can help ultra-cheap hits packages like Collections. He wrote, performed, and released music at a remarkable clip for much of his early career, finally slowing down once the '80s hit (damn you, '80s!). While you can point to a number of solid standouts that are obligatory in any retrospective (Ring Of Fire, Walk The Line, Folsom Prison Blues), paring everything down to a mere ten is ridiculous. Only a box set buffet could do The Man In Black justice, but I’m not that interested in his music, so this morsel of an appetizer will suffice.

Even having this seems more a point of necessity, no music collection respectable without one of the giants of country music within. Yes, even if you can’t stand the thought of twangy crooners. Mr. Cash carved out a unique niche within that music culture, a gravely baritone, free prison concerts, and somewhat reckless lifestyle painting him as a classic Western outlaw. Nor was he strictly a country performer either, jumping between rockabilly, blues, and gospel tunes whenever the inspiration hit him, the disparate genres often blending together in his music. He was among the first in taking country out of its insular Nashville scene, exporting it to audiences who’d have little other interest in what all them cowboys were singing about. There’s a whole lot more I could get into, but I’d quickly run out of self-imposed word count. Maybe read one of the many biographies out there. Or watch one of the many documentaries. Or a biopic or two.

I’ll probably never delve into Mr. Cash’s discography enough to figure out what his essential works are, so I’ve no idea whether the selection of Collections does him justice. It obviously has his two breakout hits in I Walk The Line and Folsom Prison Blues, both from his 1957 debut With His Hot And Blue Guitar. From the following year is Big River from the album Sings the Songs That Made Him Famous and I Still Miss Someone from The Fabulous Johnny Cash. Yeah, country album titles weren’t terribly creative back in the day. Eh, where’s Ring Of Fire among all these, you ask? (no, pretend you did) That came later, released in ’63, when Cash signed to Columbia, and appearing on the album Ring Of Fire: The Best Of Johnny Cash. Man, great song titles, but lousy ones for LPs, every time.

The rest of Collections rounds up some of Cash’s more well known tunes and covers of the late ‘60s, including a live prison performance of the hilarious A Boy Named Sue. Capping things off is a ’76 cover of the Wayne Kemp number One Piece At A Time. Man, this recording’s far too polished for a capper on this version of The Man In Black story. Why couldn’t the original Super Hits have come out after he’d done Hurt?

Various - Pulp Fiction

MCA Records: 1994

Shame I didn't get to this CD a little sooner – say, last yearish. I could’ve generated cheap traffic by piggy-backing off clickbait articles like “Hey, It’s The 20th Anniversary Of That Movie You Can’t Stop Quoting!” But alas, we're already two weeks deep into 2015, long past the expiry date of people nostalgically revisiting Pulp Fiction's 1994 release. Who cares that it came out mid-November of that year, thus making us but two months late for twentieth-anniversary prestige. Hell, as I recall, Tarantino's opus to the mush of storytelling didn't catch popular buzz until well into '95, finding more fanfare on the home video market where all us impressionable underage Gen-X types could finally watch it. And hoo, what a movie to behold, making not a lick of sense but strangely captivating as Hollywood stars waxed bullshit over obscene circumstances.

Plus the music! Wow, where did ol' Quentin find all that awesome music? His personal record collection apparently, turning many of his flicks into as much a mixtape as they are ‘70s genre-sploitations. Of course, with over two decades to study his methods, having rare, odd, and perfect tunes’ become the expectant norm, and unfortunately nothing’s made quite the impact that the surf rock of Misirlou did. Still, Tarantino made a style of music that had been absolutely dead for three decades hip again. That’s quite an achievement, and though it didn’t resurrect into a reinvigorated scene, it did create a new generation of crate divers digging a little further into obscure musical cul-de-sacs. Erm, not me though – I still had ‘techno’.

So the surf rock is primarily what Pulp Fiction’s music is remembered for, and for good reason. Beyond the killer opener, at least a third of the music on this soundtrack is in that style. Another significant chunk is taken up by dark, bluesy country, though not always specifically from that scene. Heavy rockers Urge Overkill do a cover of Neil Diamond’s Girl, You’ll Soon Be A Woman, and then-newcomer Maria McKee goes full-on whisky folk, but every track has that ‘outlaw’ feeling that Tarantino loves writing into protagonists. Not so much always the ‘bad guys’, as he’s featured his fair share of vigilantes too. More like desperados, and can you think of any sub-sub American culture that was filled with those sorts than the outlaws of the country? Sure, the surfer nation! Nothing caught that vintage American West desperado spirit like freeloaders taking on the mighty waves of the Pacific Ocean, risking life and limb to prove Man was undefeatable in the face of his Mother Nature’s fury. Well, the music suggested as such.

Look, I’m just waxing bullshit here for the sake of my own ego (like a Tarantino movie!). Even if you haven’t seen Pulp Fiction (!), you’ve probably seen a parody or two, and know its music and culled bits of dialog from those. You don’t need me telling you to check this out, because you already have, even if only by cultural osmosis.

Neil Young - On The Beach

Reprise Records: 1974/2003

So, how's your day going? Good, you say? That's cool, peachy. I'm doing pretty good myself. Enjoying my new Sennheiser Momentum headphones very much, thank you. What's that, you found $20 on the ground? Wow, that's some swell luck. You know, I think everything's looking bright for us. I almost feel guilty feeling good about things and stuff right now. Hey, I know what will bring me right the fuck down, Neil Young's On The Beach. Few things depress you quicker than that ode to post-hippie '70s existential crisis of being!

Not that you could blame the poor guy. Sure, he was a commercial success and all that, but at what cost had that fame come? If his musician friends weren't dying from drug overdoses, they were getting lost up their needles and noses with the stuff. He could sell out concerts, but considering how often he felt compelled to flee his fanatical fans, what comfort was there in that? And everything else in Americana seemed to be going tits up, the prosperity of the '50s and counter-culture idealism of the '60s getting hit with hard, bitter, cold reality of events out of their control. Where else could Neil Young go but straight for the ditch, burning his bridge to fame (but not his fortune!) as he tried making sense of it all.

Thus, you get a track like Vampire Blues, condemning the Western world’s growing dependence on fossil fuels. There’s Revolution Blues, painting redneck culture as ever the jaded reactionary types as we’ve stereotyped them into today. For The Turnstiles paints a dour picture of other charming Americana like county fairs and baseball games. See The Sky About To Rain is more poetic, coming off like After The Goldrush material (I think it was written around that time anyway). Motion Pictures laments his fame, and Ambulance Blues flat out criticizes all that hippie optimism that accomplished squat in the ‘70s. “Pissing in the wind” indeed.

As those song titles suggest, there’s quite a bit of blues music here, though only the titular cut’s out-and-out blue-blues as you imagine. Revolution Blues is a basic southern rock out (that bass!), and Vampire Blues is the chipper version of blues rock, what with a cool shuffle percussion, a bit of organ action, and one of Shakey’s weirdest solos ever (is he trying to sound like bubbling crude?). For The Turnstiles, meanwhile, goes for a banjo duo, and Ambulance Blues sounds like a whiskey-soaked country jam, including a ...bass fiddle? Whatever it is, it sure sounds sad. I think Toby Marks used something similar on Big Men Cry.

Okay, this is a depressing album, but the music is quite creative and beautiful in its misery. It also helps that Young’s perspective on things got better a few years after, so a happy(ish) wrap to this story. On The Beach is best treated as a time-capsule, a period in Young’s life where he captured a despondent spirit of a generation.

Neil Young - Old Ways

Geffen Records: 1985/2000

Old Ways is regarded as one of Neil Young’s all-time worst albums. Don’t worry though, he’d probably admit it as such, the music within as much a protest album as it is a collection of throwback country jangles. David Geffen, growing annoyed by Young’s casual disregard for making chart-friendly music anymore, filed an actual lawsuit against him for not making music “representative of Neil Young”. Um, Mr. Geffen, have you heard his discography? Even before signing to your label, he’d been musically all over the place (rock, folk, blues, punk, art-house film). True, Trans and Everybody’s Rocking were new roads taken, but what else was he gonna’ do in the ‘80s? Big band jazz?

Anyhow, while faced with this lawsuit, ol’ Shakey reunited with his Nashville buddies, recorded some country-as-fuck jams intended for his new album, and if Geffen whined about it, he’d go so far as to make this his permanent new sound, essentially voiding the lawsuit. Man, that’s fighting dirty. What about your fans, Neil? All those who loved the Crazy Horse material? Or the heartfelt folk ditties? The three people fascinated by the synth-pop exploration? Forget it, this is about principle, and standing up against big corporate bullies who believe money and lawyers can get them anything they want. Taken with that context, Old Ways just might secretly be Neil Young’s most awesome album ever!

(note: I bought this album before I knew of its history; any of Young’s story, if I’m honest. I’d just gotten into his music, and figured everything would sound like either Ragged Glory or Harvest Moon. Definitely a crash course in discovering his erratic muse, this.)

But nay, this album’s about as country as the old West could twang. Opener The Wayward Wind even features a full orchestra, sounding like it belongs as in the opening credits to a Clint Eastwood movie where he talks to tree. Following that is Get Back To The Country, as silly a hoe-down jam as you’ll ever hear, including a Juice Harp! It’s my favorite ‘bad’ Neil Young song. Other songs like Misfits and Bound For Glory sound like they were intended as “everyday people” folk ditties, repurposed as western tunes here. The rest are pretty generic country tunes – does anyone really care if there are any more real cowboys?

Still, even if Old Ways was executed as a backhand against Geffen, Young seldom half-fasts his creative whims, fully embracing this ‘persona’ of rugged farmer and cowboy of the land. He even roped in country mainstays Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson on harmony duties (to say nothing of the manure-ton of Nashville session musicians, including a few Stray Gator alums), with live shows that were a hootin’ good ol’ time if you were into that sort of thing. I honestly can’t give this album much of a recommendation though, as it’s incredibly genre-specific and the odds of anyone reading this on an electronic music blog being into country are zilch to none. Get out of here, Contrarian Sykonee.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 1: Disc 8 - North Country (1971-1972)

Reprise Records: 2009

“Mr. Young, you've achieved fame and fortune before your Thirties, have achieved more in a decade's worth of music than most could hope for in a lifetime, performed with a multitude of talented musicians covering a wide range of rock, country, folk, and even a God damned symphony while in London. What do you plan on doing next?”

“I'm gonna' get me a ranch, and get away from all you spazzes.”

Well, okay, he didn't say exactly that, but he was inching ever closer to diving “for the ditch”, as Young so eloquently put it in a few short years. The final music disc of Archive, Vol. 1 is almost bittersweet in how it caps off the box-set at the absolute peak of ol' Shakey's commercial success, most of his material from Harvest accounted for. That's another album I've already reviewed, so check that one out for the particular details of how his most popular record came into being. The only additions from the Stray Gators sessions that didn't appear on Harvest include Bad Fog Of Loneliness, Journey Through The Past, and an extended take of Words (Between The Lines Of Age). I think this material was featured in Young's movie soundtrack, but I never bought that, despite the allure of having Young and a rare-ish Beach Boys tune on the same record!

Another live recording of Heart Of Gold starts out North Country (1971-1972), included as evidence for his admittance at having little prior experience using a mounted harmonica (I guess). The back end of Disc 8 includes a couple more examples of Neil’s “heavy political material” in Soldier and War Song with Graham Nash (what, no Crosby or Stills?). And that’s it, the end of Archives, Vol. 1. We’re done, over, finished. Boy, that week blew by fast. Thank God though, as I couldn’t take much more Neil in such a single sitting again. I enjoy his music, but not that I must hear it all the time.

Is this where I absolutely, definitely, positively recommend this box set? No, of course not - only a hardcore Rustie should bother with Archives, Vol. 1. If you do intend to take the plunge based on hearing a few songs from this era, I still wouldn’t recommend it much as an exploratory dive-in point – checking out the albums is a safer bet. That said, Archives, Vol. 1 is handy in gathering all his disparate output into one, tidy package, and the sound quality can’t be beat if you spring for the DVD or Blu-Ray bundle. Plus, every track has a different custom ‘video’ crafted for it, a short film of either a record (official release), reel-to-reel (previously unreleased material), or other medium (cassette tape, 8-track (lol)) playing in a unique setting surrounded by pertinent memorabilia – yes, even for minute-long ditties like Cripple Creek Ferry. With one-hundred twenty-eight tracks total, that’s a remarkable amount of affection and care given in presenting Young’s material. Would any self-respecting Rustie expect less?

Various - LateNightTales: Fatboy Slim

LateNightTales: 2007

This was a release I was supposed to review at TranceCritic, but totally flaked on because I had no idea how to approach it. For one thing, I knew very little about LateNightTales, other than it was yet another compilation series dedicated to showcasing the esoteric tastes of musicians and DJs. Fair enough, but with Back To Mine, Choice, DJ-Kicks (sometimes), and who knows what else doing the same thing, I had difficulty drumming up interest in this one. Second of all, the music contained within is very, very, very un-electronic, and for a website that already frequently skewed away from its main focus (trance!), going that far off our beaten path probably wasn't wise (or just bad for traffic). So now that I'm writing on a blog dedicated to all electronic music, but often skew towards heavy metal, prog rock, and even country (but not Western – I do have standards here), finally tackling Fatboy Slim's contribution to LateNightTales just be honky-dory.

I don't know if it's a running theme with this series, but Monsieur Normane Cookie opted for something akin to a mixtape here. He even goes at length in the liner notes about the lost art of the craft, which strikes me as odd even for 2007. I'll grant all the kiddie-Joes out there likely don't care much about it, but almost every music connoisseur I know of appreciates the concept of mixtaping, if not the practical application of it.

And as this is a mixtape mix, there’s hardly any mixing at all; mostly quick blending as a song ends and another begins, if even that. Frankly, I doubt anyone could reasonably mix this music anyway. It opens with a bunch of sunny, psychedelic rock by the likes of Nick Lowe, Mink de Ville, and The Modern Lovers that screams ‘70s, only to follow it up with a run of obscure funk, soul, and reggae of the same era. Oh yeah, Fatboy Slim’s penchant for fun-time music’s in full effect here, and as a bloke who’s undoubtedly gathered tons of vinyl in his time, Mr. Cook’s gonna give us one heck of a history lesson on this stuff.

Since this is such old music meant for singles and radio play, they all breeze by in a hurry, no track exceeding four minutes. There are a few recognizable names in the back half (Willie Nelson, The Velvet Underground, Taj Mahal, Sly & The Family Stone), often rubbing shoulders with utter unknowns like ‘60s r&b outfit The Sandpebbles and calypso singer (plus actor) Robert Mitchum. And of course there’s cute novelty bits like Vince Guaraldi Trio’s Linus And Lucy (yes, from those Peanuts cartoons), Fatboy Slim doing a Senor Coconut-ish cover of Kraftwerk’s Radioactivity (!!), and ending everything with some poetry as recited by Bootsy Collins (!!?).

So an entertaining CD, all said, though not the most essential. If you don’t mind taking a stroll down music roads less travelled, this volume of LateNightTales is a handy soundtrack.

Neil Young - Harvest Moon

Reprise Records: 1992

Two decades after delivering an album everyone loved, Neil Young finally released a pseudo sequel to Harvest, this here CD titled Harvest Moon. Everyone loved that one too, though aside from the titular song, it didn't quite reach the same level of commercial success. There were undoubtedly many reasons for it – chief among them Harvest Moon's very laid-back country vibes not exactly jiving with mainstream interests in the year 1992 (who cares about that old hippie crooner when we got Michael Bolton serenading the airwaves!) - but like so many albums in Young's discography, it's endured as a proper classic, spawning memorable tunes you're likely to still hear in concert during his acoustic moments.

Funny thing is, though the idea behind Harvest Moon sounds like a shoo-in, it likely wouldn't have happened had circumstances nearly forced him into making the album. Consider: Young had had twenty years to round up The Stray Gators again, take a trip to Nashville, and deliver an album full of charming, radio-friendly country-rock folk. Yet he never did, his occasional trips to the mid-west finding him exploring proper-country instead; only a few of the original session musicians were brought in for those albums. So what convinced him to finally do what his fans wanted for years upon years?

Hearing damage, mostly. Following the raucous Weld tour with Crazy Horse, Young’d developed a bad case of tinnitus, forcing him to tone his music down for a while. Okay, and a two decade anniversary wasn't such a bad incentive either.

That said, he couldn't exactly repeat Harvest. Aside from generally better production (such lush echo and reverb here!), the lyrics and themes Young was exploring as he neared his fifties were quite different compared to topics of 1972. Condemnations of southern States attitudes? That's small time stuff compared to global issues like war (War Of Man) and environmentalism (Natural Beauty). Also, how could he write songs about forlorn love when he’d been happily married for years? Just won’t work anymore, so instead we have music reflecting on the friendships he’s had (From Hand To Hendrix, One Of These Days, and, um, his dog in Old King), the relationship he’s in (Harvest Moon and Such A Woman), and perhaps even where he may end up (You And Me). Fairly broad topics, all said, but Young has a way of making them feel intimate, as either a window into his own feelings, or as a message for those who can relate to his lyrics.

In the Harvest review, I quipped that many Boomers likely turned to that album as post-partying comfort music. I’ll freely admit that Harvest Moon has served a similar purpose for myself on occasion, a nostalgic calm even for things I’ve yet to experience. That, in a nutshell, is why Young’s endured for so long: writing music that isn’t bound by specific generations, but by earnest, human feelings, and he’s at his best here. No matter the age, someone will find something relatable in Harvest Moon.

Neil Young - Harvest

Reprise Records: 1972

The only Neil Young album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a Neil Young fan. Or at least, that was the assumed case waaaayyy back in the ‘70s, when all his Boomer fans would turn to Harvest’s charming, laid-back good ol’ country rock vibes to ease themselves from whatever bad trip they might be suffering from (citation needed). I can’t even think of what album could be considered “the only Neil Young album you’re supposed to have” now, as the man’s musical career’s all over the place. True, there are releases that are good representations of what he’s capable of (After The Goldrush, Rust Never Sleeps, Sleeps With Angels, any live album), but you’re almost always missing out on some aspect of his career. Even Archives, Vol. 1 only reached as far as Harvest, which capped off the first ten years of ol’ Neil making music. Holy shit, he’s been doing this for a freakin’ half-century now, hasn’t he!

Anyhow, what Harvest definitely became was Mr. Young’s most popular album, likely because it was also one of his best selling ones, especially in ’merica, where they love those home-grown country-rock tunes. Just, sshhh, don’t remind them he’s actually Canadian.

The big hits off here were Heart Of Gold, Old Man, and The Needle And The Damage Done. That last one isn’t even two-minutes long, a brief, somber reflection dedicated to those he saw losing their lives to drug addictions. The first two though, hoo boy, were they ever major tunes at the time. You’ll still hear them on the radio, though whether a rock or country one, I’m not sure – that banjo bit in Old Man definitely would sound out of place along all that Led Zeppelin and Rolling Stones. And Heart Of Gold, you’ve heard it. No, really, I can guarantee you’ve heard a version of it at some point. Heck, I heard it long before I even knew who Neil Young was, when Boney M covered it on their Nightflight To Venus album I frequently played as a child. Hey, maybe that’s where this Young obsession stems from!

As for Harvest, the album, it’s definitely one of Young’s odder collection of songs. The old-timey country bits (and hits) were put together at Nashville with ridiculously talented session musicians he dubbed The Stray Gators (seriously, Ben Keith’s pedal steel guitar work almost steals the whole album). A short while later, Young brought the group out to a barn at the ranch he’d recently purchased, and recorded one-take rockier tunes on the fly. In between, he got to record a couple songs with the London Symphony Orchestra, lending almost ridiculous bombast to an album that typically comes off down to earth.

Predictably, Harvest ends up quite a slap-dash listening experience, even for a Young album. It may have been his most popular effort, but as you can find most of these tunes elsewhere now (and in stronger renditions), it’s not the most essential purchase anymore.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Greendale

Reprise Records: 2003

I mean, what else was Neil Young gonna do in his career? He'd explored rock music in nearly all its forms: country, punk, grunge, etc. He did classic rock before it was ever 'classic', and he even did proper classic rock, rockabilly. Folk music? Done it. Blues music? Conquered. Electronic music? Damn straight he went there! Death metal? Well, okay, maybe not that one – I can't imagine ol' Neil's 'baying at the moon' singing working too favourably when Cookie Monster growls are the norm. Still, Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black) isn't too far off from power-chord distortion metal...

Anyhow, what I'm getting at here is, after a long, long history of having done about all one could ever hope to in rock music, taking a stab at a rock opera wasn't so daft – no less odd than his other quirky ventures over the years. This being Neil though, Greendale wasn't going to be a performance piece on the scale of The Wall. Rather, it was a small, intimate effort, relying on just him and Crazy Horse’s brand of kick-ass country-blues rock to tell the tale, though the tunes are musically simple, even for them. Incidentally, so was the production itself, almost on the level of a community theatre show, which makes sense from a thematic standpoint, as it's all about a small town and a series of events that shake a family to their very core.

Spoilers? Well, since I know barely anyone reading this on an electronic music blog is likely to listen to Greendale - even long time fans were rather confuddled over it – I may as well let you in on the story that takes place.

A family called the Greens lives in a sleepy town called Greendale. About the only major ruckus they caused was when Edith and Earl Green changed the name of a rancho they bought. Sacrilege! How can anyone change the Double L to the Double E? Aside from that though, not much happens for the first few songs of Greendale. Then, in a chance pullover by Officer Carmichael, he catches Jed Green drug running. No one knew Jed was a bad apple, and he only makes things worse when, in a panic, he shoots the policeman! Oops.

As you can imagine, the townsfolk aren’t too pleased, and following Carmichael’s funeral, the media seeks to interview Grandpa Green about the incident, an old curmudgeon traditionalist (with a sense of the Fourth Wall no less, often complaining about “that guy singing”). Just as the old man literally tells the media to get off his lawn with a shotgun, he has a heart attack and dies.

Sun Green, the firebrand young activist girl, doesn’t take kindly to seeing her family fall apart due to the media, and... oh dear, I’m running out of self-imposed word count. I’ll just leave on the note that by the end, the FBI kills a cat, and the final song, Be The Rain, is all kinds of awesome!

Neil Young - Freedom

Reprise Records: 1989

Even for my generation, I came to the Neil Young Wagon rather late. My first proper exposure was during his Harvest Moon period, when you couldn't escape that song's video on MuchMusic. For quite a few more of my demographic, however, they'd been hip to the old rocker since the late '80s, when they either learned of Young's initially banned-from-MTV video This Note's For You, or the rousing follow-up chart hit Rockin' In The Free World. I probably heard it at some point, but I was more into The Beach Boys in those years.

More so, Young was getting named dropped as a major influence by several up-and-coming alt-rock and grunge acts like Sonic Youth, The Pixies, and such. Growing inspired by this new legion of noise makers, ol' Neil dropped his current blues outfit and gathered a few chaps for a straight-up rock session, the results of which became the rare Eldorado EP, limited to only five-thousand copies and not sold in America. Da'fuq?

Oh well, most of those songs showed up on his next full-length, Freedom, and thank God they did, 'cause they're some of the most kick-ass music he’d made since the early '80s Crazy Horse album Re-Ac-Tor. Though his wonderful mess of noise occurs on songs On Broadway, No More, and Eldorado, Don’t Cry’s a real highlight for that sound, twice featuring a blistering wall of incredible distortion (having an industrial clank as part of the rhythm’s hilarious too!).

But Freedom wouldn’t have been considered a comeback album if it’d been a bunch of noisy rock. Young’s musical appeal was broad, many enjoying his folksy side along with forays into country and blues. This album has it all, which is a win-loss situation, depending on where you stand on such things. Me, I’m all for a little pleasant folk like Hangin’ On A Limb, plus the lengthy blues-rock Crime In The City’s great if you enjoy tales of everyday people (Eldorado’s awesome for this too, though obviously with more of a Mexican bent). Heck I don’t even mind the country tunes The Ways Of Love and Too Far Gone - Young’s about the only guy I can stand doing country, for some reason (probably because it’s Neil F’n Young). Unfortunately, two of his ballads - Someday and Wrecking Ball - are pants, especially so the former, coming off like an incredibly weak mid-‘80s country ditty (okay, not everything he does turns out). Really, the whole album has that “only in the ‘80s” production sheen to it, though not nearly as bad as many other releases of that decade.

So obviously I’d recommend Freedom if you’re looking to get acquainted with ol’ Neil, but aside from Rockin’ In The Free World, there aren’t any all-time classics on here. It’s probably more enjoyed after indulging in a greatest hits package or something, to find out if his style of music’s even your taste. While Freedom does have something for everyone, it’s unlikely everyone will enjoy it all.

5 Song Weekly Mini-Review #9

No, really, I have a legit excuse this time. Would you believe “bad back”? I developed a vicious knot underneath my right shoulder-blade, which made putting my right arm (aka: mouse hand) at keyboard level quite painful for any length of time. No, better to let it heal properly - and by properly, I mean taking a bunch of meds to muddle through. Yay legal drug trade! That said, let’s find out what five random songs I’m going to talk about this week.


1. Hypertrophy - Just Come Back To Me (Porn Kings X-Plicit Club Cut)
From the mixed compilation Trance Trippin’.

Oh man, Hypertrophy. Did these guys ever have a bunch of hits back in the day, eh? Um, actually, they only had a couple before disappearing, but they were classics for the burgeoning ‘club trance’ scene of the late 90s. Their shtick was the ‘bells riff’, something that was quite clearly style-bitten from Quench’s Dreams. Still, what they did with it was remains memorable, in that early epic-trance sort of way. This version is from a compilation that featured a whole bunch of trance of the time, going from floaty vocal stuff to hard acid psy. Yes, it can be done.


2. Willie Nelson - Georgia On My Mind
From the album Collections.

Yeah, Sony Music recycles these “greatest hits” collections every so often on the super cheap. I decided to pick a few up one time, as a decent primer on all these classic musicians should I ever dig further. Can’t say I’ve done so when it comes to Willie Nelson. There isn’t much more I can say about this song though. It’s a country ballad, so it’s charming, whimsical …there’s a harmonica. Seriously, you’ve heard this song a million times, even if not this particular one.


3. Daft Punk - Robot Rock/Oh Yeah
From the album Alive 2007.

Man, I wish I could have seen that pyramid live. As it stands though, I’ll just have to settle for enjoying that awesome bass resonance in the Sennheiser headphones. Mmm…..


4. Gas - Earthloop
From the album Gas 0095.

Hm, well not exactly obscure-obscure, but still quite an unknown tune. This is more of an ambient interlude on the album than a proper track, but for an album that was filled with such wibbling, this actually holds up quite nicely. Earthloop even hints at becoming a proper tune before it ends, which is a shame. Still, for what lasts, it remains pleasant enough; a definite look-see for ambient techno fans.


5. Method Man - Step By Step
From the album Tical 2000: Judgement Day.

Ol’ Cliff could rap about any damn thing and make it sound impossibly cool. Here, however, it’s simple “I’m da’ man” bravado over a laid-back Erick Sermon beat. You can’t dismiss it, yet you’re not exactly riveted by it either, which has been a major complaint of Meth’s solo projects over the years. Perfect fodder for your spliffed-out mixtape.


I do believe that is one of the most random selection of songs I’ve done yet. The inclusion of Willie F’n Nelson in there only confirms it as such!


Written by Sykonee, 2010. © All rights reserved.