Sarah McLachlan - Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff

Nettwerk: 1996

I very nearly bought this when it was new. Rabbit In The Moon is on here, providing two remixes for Ms. McLachlan, including a rub on Possession (aka: that “I’ll take your breath away” song). The fact Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff also has an Extended Remix of the only other song by Sarah I knew of (Into The Fire), and the temptation was there, believe you me. Taking a quick listen changed my mind though - I had no idea she was so acoustic. Right, I’ve already mentioned my early McLachlan knowledge was super-lacking, and man, was I ever gonna’ get some knowledge dropped on me hard the following year, when Surfacing became a Canadian Touchstone of Music Excellence Pertaining To Cultural Significance (or however CBC calls it now). Still, Rabbit In The F’n Moon… You’ve no idea how difficult it was finding their stuff in CD format back in the day. Hell, even now it’s hard, at least for a reasonable penny out of your purse.

While an ‘odds-n-sods’ collection of McLachlan material is hardly out of the ordinary, the fact this came out before she hit international stardom does come as a surprise. No doubt Fumbling Towards Ecstasy was a successful album, and even Solace and Touch had been slow burners, but nothing from those suggested her fanbase had grown significant enough for a stopgap like Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff. She didn’t even have enough material for a ‘Best Of’ package at this stage of her career, and wouldn’t do the deed for that until the 2004 Retrospective. Interest indeed was there though, this compilation actually hitting the Top Ten of Canada’s Billboard charts, and even Triple-Platinum in my country. Wow, I’m not alone in my hunt for obscure Rabbit In The Moon remixes then!

Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff definitely lives up to its name, a hodge-podge of miscellaneous material throughout Ms. McLachlan’s first decade of music-making. This includes a number of covers: XTC’s Dear God, Canadian folkie Joni Mitchell’s Blue, and other Canadian folkie Gordon Lightfoot’s Song For A Winter’s Night. These all sound about as you’d expect from Sarah on the acoustic, mellow side, though given the power behind her pipes, I suspect she recorded them during the recent interim between albums, maybe as a means of helping her recharge her muse. Another cover’s here, a live recording of o-o-old-timey lament Gloomy Sunday, with the modernist Billy Holiday lyrics used.

So what’s this ‘other stuff’, then? A soundtrack-only track in I Will Remember You, which was a major selling point for this CD. RITM do a LunaSol Remix on Fear, which the boys behind Delerium were definitely paying attention to. A Violin Mix of Shelter. An early release of Surfacing track Full Of Grace. And, in case you forgot label Nettwerk’s origins leaned synth-pop and industrial, McLachlan lends a voice on 1988’s As the End Draws Near from long-forgotten duo Manufacture. Look, Sarah was young, she needed the work.

The Cranberries - No Need To Argue

Island Records: 1994

The Cranberries were one of the most popular bands that gave the world a grunge anthem, which is hilarious because they are not a grunge band. Alternative rock, perhaps, but the Irish group only ever made one song that could be considered grunge. But hoo, what a song that was, Zombie among the biggest singles of the ‘90s, setting The Cranberries up for plenty of future success. This, despite tons of CD buyers coming away from No Need To Argue with confused first impressions.

Not that they were total unknowns leading up to this album. Linger from their debut did reasonably well, especially in thanks to copious amounts of MTV play, and also finding a nice home on alternative stations. It’s a peppy bit of soft rock, perfect for your romantic comedy needs, more indicative of The Cranberries’ style of music, and generated enough buzz for their debut album, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?, for a top spot on the Billboard of Ireland and the UK. Island Records, the victors of a label bidding war as representation for the band, had to be pleased. It was good enough for a modest fanbase in their homeland and even a little abroad, one that would stick with the group throughout the ‘90s. Not a bad claim to fame, nosiree.

But then along lurched a Zombie, scoring the band a Number One hit across the globe. It’s no surprise this single became the sensation it was, executing the grunge ‘quiet-heavy-quiet-heavy’ template to perfection. Coupled with a rousing chorus singer Dolores O’Riordan completely owns, and you’ve an anthem for the pissed-off generation that’s continuously played at every “Hey, remember the ‘90s?” party. It helped that it honestly sounded unlike anything else at the time, with that haggard accented voice from Dolores, to say nothing of an actual lady providing pipes in such a male dominated scene. The whole ‘anti-war’ message didn’t hurt its prospects either, though I wonder how many of my peers even knew Zombie was about that, instead content scream-singing “In your head, in your head, they’re fi-i-ighting. In your hee-aaadd! In your hee-aaadd ! Zo-o-mbie! Zo-o-ombie! Zomibe! Ey-Eh”, etc. Lord knows I didn’t clue in until the fiftieth time I heard it.

And that, despite scoring big on the charts with ultra-Platinum sales, No Need To Argue has found many a home in the used shops across the land (erm, with CD hoarders too). The Cranberries already had their followers, and this album’s blend of peppy alternative rock, charming Irish folk ballads, and Ms. O’Riordan’s intoxicating voice (such a wonderful singer!) delivers to those fans in spades. However, for the multitude of others that were introduced to the band via Zombie, and expecting more of that… well, some became fans of their traditional sound regardless. Many others though, didn’t quite vibe with what the Limerick group was selling, leaving them with No Need To Argue as a neglected gift from their Auntie. Probably.

The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour

Capitol Records/Parlaphone: 1967/1987

The only Beatles album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a Beatles fan. Um… oh geez, how to justify this one? True, it’s got some of the Liverpool Four’s all-time classics in Strawberry Fields Forever, All You Need Is Love, and I Am The Walrus, but that’s never been an essential selling point for all their other albums. If you just wanted the classics, you get the greatest hits packages, or the anthology box sets, or the anniversary collections, or the-

What I mean to say is, buying a Beatles album just for the chart topping singles isn’t necessary when gathered options already exist. One buys Beatles LPs for the full experience, a playback from start to finish as the lads intended. They’d proved an album need not be big tunes with cover filler, where Rubber Soul, Revolver, and especially Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band kept improving upon the LP format. In fact, the Beatles had perfected the idea of a concept album so brilliantly with Sgt. Pepper’s that odds were they could only have gone down from there. Maybe it was best, then, to offer the inevitable slip with the soundtrack of Magical Mystery Tour, a film project that was practically doomed from the start.

A whimsical bus tour across the English countryside might have succeeded with an actual script on hand, but McCartney, inspired by super-hippie Ken Kesey’s similar bus tour across America, hoped to capture the spontaneity of such gleeful weirdness. Compounding the problems was how their wacky shenanigans were filmed in colour, but broadcast on BBC1, which primarily featured shows in black and white. Thus Magical Mystery Tour premiered as a muddy mess in British homes, on Boxing Day no less, when folks probably weren’t interested in drug-fueled Beatles zaniness. The film was such a flop that it never featured in American cinemas (too short), and was basically jettisoned from archives, none of the original negatives saved. It was the first sign that the mighty Beatlesmania machine could have some chinks in its sturdy armor.

The music though. No matter the faults of the film, surely the tunes provided would be of equal measure to their impeccable discography. Can’t deny that bombastic titular opener, a tune carrying on the Sgt. Pepper’s tradition of throwing any and all ideas into a single three-minute explosion of psychedelic rock. The Fool On The Hill goes more folk, Flying is a pure instrumental, Blue Jay Way goes suuuper-deep in the psychedelia (Flange! Reverse tape loops! Eastern bollocks!), Your Mother Should Know is a bouncy bit of ragtime, and I Am The Walrus is Lennon at his experimental nuttiest; but hey, what a catchy chorus!

All this, plus the included great singles that didn’t make it to Sgt. Pepper’s (aforementioned, plus Hello Goodbye, Penny Lane, and Baby You’re A Rich Man) makes Magical Mystery Tour a fascinating listen regardless. The songcraft remains, but boy were they pushing the limits of what a Beatles song could still be.

Various - Garden State (Music From The Motion Picture)

Epic: 2004

I don’t know anything about this movie. I think I recall the title from somewhere, but no details about Garden State sparks the recollection synapses. Who the stars were, the director was, the plot, not even the year it was released. Just based on the tracklist, I assume it came out early 2000s, what with names like Coldplay, Zero 7, and Thievery Corporation included. The cover has me thinking it’s about a group of young adults doing something quirky in the hopes of giving their meaningless lives meaning. Or maybe they’re trying to take a stand against the man in a Surrey New Jersey park? Guessing the former though – seems to be a running theme with all these soundtracks lately.

I could pop over to Deity IMDB for a little knowledge-drop regarding Garden State, but where’s the fun in that? It’d only lead to another bog-standard soundtrack review: giving a plot synopsis, what I think of it, and hastily going over the actual music before self-imposed word count runs out. Nah, how about I instead give the CD a once-over, make an assumed guess of what Garden State’s about, then see if Deity IMDB proves how accurate I was. Yeah, let’s do that.

Coldplay’s Don’t Panic opens things up. I wouldn’t say this is Coldplay at their Coldplayiest, because that’s just a lazy, cliché way of describing a Coldplay song, no matter how apt. Two tracks from The Shins crop up early, who I do remember being rather big on the indie scene; wouldn’t surprise me if this movie helped. A whole lot of ultra-soft rock and Americana folk make their way in, including Nick Drake’s One Of These Things First, which I remember most for a commercial (I think?). Whoa, Colin Hay, the lead singer Men At Work, had a solo career too? I’ll be darned. Simon & Garfunkel are also here, absolutely, always a solid option for a ‘coming of age’ movie. All these sensitive acoustic musicians make Thievery Corporation’s Lebanese Blonde stand out like an ethnic-flavored thumb, and I’ve no idea how it fits within this movie’s context. Most of these songs have me picturing the cast laying about cuddling on couches, looking out rainy windows, strolling through saturated neighborhoods, and involving themselves in deep, philosophical questions about what it means to be a young adult in the new millennium. Works for Zero 7 and Frou Frou (re: Imogen Heap), but the Thievery Corps.?

Anyhow, let’s see what Garden State’s really about. *clickity-clickity-clack* Ah, hmm, it’s a Zach Braff vehicle (aka: that guy from Scrubs). Wow, passion project, more like. I wasn’t too far off in my plot assumptions either; also is a movie where the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope got its legs. No wonder the music felt chipper, yet also a tad mopey and insufferable. Natalie Portman’s in this, as is Ian Holm and… Method Man?? Wait, you got yourself a Wu-Tang member, and didn’t have any Wu joints in your score? Poor form, Zach.

Various - Empire Records: The Soundtrack

A&M Records: 1995

A ‘90s movie centered on the exploits of a record store seemingly run by teenagers? Pft, pass. Hackers was my regrettable tackle at Gen-X culture, though if Empire Records’ soundtrack had focused on techno instead of alternative rock, maybe I’d have paid it attention. Look, my dedication to electronic music was unshakable, ain’t no way Teenage Sykonee would sway to the sounds his younger sister indulged in. Ooh, wait, sis’, can I borrow that Beastie Boys Ill Communication CD inexplicably in your collection? I need Sabotage for a mixtape.

No, I didn’t get this soundtrack from her (she did have it though). This comes from another lady of comparable age, and it seems several grown gals have a thing for Empire Records. It’s gotta’ be because of Liv Tyler on the cover, wearing that impossibly cute, navel-exposing blue fuzz sweater and plaid mini-skirt, holding back with authori-tah a rag-tag group of peers, co-workers, besties and frienemies. The Ethan Hawke-hot sensitive friend, the promiscuous blonde, the Pauly Shore quirky guy, the nihilistic authentic Gen-X philosopher, the kinda’ gothic depressive. Mmm… Robin Tunney, with or without shaved head…

I get the sense folks remember Empire Records for what they think the movie represents (alas, their youth!), rather than what actually happens in the movie. Because not a whole lot happens in the movie, and most of what does happen is so filled with stock teenage-lite comedy situations and tropes, you could plunk these characters and plot into any setting and it’d tell the same story. A video store, a restaurant, a civic centre, an arcade, wherever it is teenagers go for employed hang-outs now. The angle of a record store is wholly wasted, no one giving insight into the retail music industry or tunes they’re playing and supposedly enjoying. Not that it’s the fault of the scriptwriter or actors, Empire Records striking me as the sort of movie studio-meddled to make it as appealing to the broad teenage demographic as possible. Heck, the soundtrack probably wasn’t even finalized before shooting began, so how could there be any dialog regarding these Gen-X jams of the day?

Even the collection of tunes is lackluster as a cultural touchstone. Some notable markers do make the cut, like The Cranberries, Gin Blossoms, Better Than Ezra, and Toad The Wet Sprocket. Edwyn Collins’ A Girl Like You was a memorable hit at the time (so Bowie!), while it’s hard to forget the movie-climax performance of cast member Coyote Shivers’ Sugarhigh. With a surefire teen hit on their hands (*cough*), A&M Records hoped Empire Records would expose some of their obscure acts (Drill, Lustre, Ape Hangers, Innocence Mission). Much of it sounds like stock alternative rock, punk, and folk of the mid-’90s to my ears, with many of these bands not doing anything beyond the era (so sayeth The Discogs). But hey, nostalgia for even the blandest of ‘90s paraphernalia can get you vinyl reissues these days. Do they have the Liv Tyler ensemble at Hot Topic too?

ACE TRACKS: April 2016

How we handlin’ all these diversions, then? Not too painful I hope, getting some fresh perspectives and insights into artists and genres so seldom touched upon here. And hey, it helps with diversification, broadening the blog’s appeal beyond the familiar, perhaps even luring in a few new, unexpected eyes in the process. That’s a good thing, right? Judging by the numbers, reviewing other people’s former collections has paid off. Who knew folks would be more interested in Bob Dylan records than Yet Another Psy Dub CD? Still, this backtrack’s got some distance to go, only just wrapping up the ‘C’s. Those ‘Tr’s are far away yet, friends, so very very far away. Patience, my lovelies. Here, have some ACE TRACKS from this past month of April!



Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Claude Young - Celestial Bodies
Various - Time Warp Compilation 07: Loco Dice
B.G. The Prince Of Rap - The Time Is Now

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 11%
Percentage of Rock: 32%
Most “WTF?” Track: Probably something from Alphaxone. Take your pick of mind-peeling creepiness digging its tendrils through your ear membranes.

This has to be the most diverse playlist I’ve put together yet. Well, not including The Ultimate Master List. Even doing a lazy alphabetical arrangement generated quite a few interesting contrasts throughout. Possibly the smallest percentage of electronic music too, in lieu of all that rock and folk material. And when I do get to the digital realms, it’s almost always ambient music. Even the techno guys (Claude Young) or ‘future garage’ guys (Synkro) go ambient here. Can’t say things are gonna’ be much different in the coming month either.

Bob Dylan - Bringing It All Back Home

Columbia: 1965/2003

A much better introduction to Bob Dylan long-players. Hell, it just might be among his most iconic albums for a number of reasons. For one, there’s the big hullabaloo over his ventures into the realms of electric music. Hey, that means Bringing It All Back Home is actually relevant to this blog! Nah, not really, the ‘going electric’ part merely his embrace of rock music after an early career as a traditional acoustic folkie. This was seen as a Very Big Deal though, like a betrayal of sorts; musicians just didn’t cross genre and scene boundaries, yo’. You started as an acoustic folk singer, you stayed in your lane. You started as a country crooner, damn straight you weren’t offering those pipes to Motown soul. A rock band was a rock band, though maybe you might get in on that blues action too.

Point being Bobby Dylian proved one wasn’t so chained to their genre as record labels so often claimed. The Beatles could make more than simple ‘love me do’ jangles. Brian Wilson could pen tunes about things other than surfing. And most importantly, you could even meld genres together! Rock music was traditionally lyrically simple stuff, catchy little numbers intended for dancefloors and malt shops, with no time for anecdotes and storytelling. Dylan said nuts to that, retaining his wordsmith abilities without sacrificing the energetic rockabilly jaunts.

And while Subterranean Homesick Blues, Maggie’s Farm, Outlaw Blues, On The Road Again, and Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream enthusiastically rock with the best of that era’s tunes, Mr. Zimmerman doesn’t just dwell on a single genre either. There’s a touch of the country in She Belongs To Me and Love Minus Zero, plus a flurry of folk songs to finish the album out. These include some of his most endearing pieces like Mr. Tambourine Man, famously covered by The Byrds that same year, and maybe-sorta’ about LSD (and if so, a much better allegory than the ham-fisted weed puns of Rainy Day Women #12 & 35). Somber Gates Of Eden is also here, foretelling the inevitable hippie burnout of the ‘70s before there was even much of a hippie movement to begin with. And if you ever need a more perfect example of Dylan’s seemingly stream-of-conscious lyricism, have a gander at It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding).

I bitched some about Dylan’s singing on Blonde On Blonde, but he sounds perfectly fine here. It’s like the brisk rock tempos prevent him from oohver enuunsiating. 115th Dream hilariously starts with an aborted recording session, lending the whole album a playful vibe, and that ol’ Bob isn't always so serious about himself. Finally, Subterranean Homesick Blues is probably most famous for offering the closest thing to the first music video. True, the scene of Dylan holding up cue cards in an alleyway as the song plays was taken from a tour documentary, but it’s been so smoothly extracted from the film, it may as well be a music video made for MTV. Dudes!

Bob Dylan - Blonde On Blonde

Columbia: 1966/2004

The only Bob Dylan album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a Bob Dylan fan. That said, do not let this be your introduction to the guy’s work. Mind, I honestly don’t know how one’s supposed to properly take in Mr. Zimmerman’s work. Every Dylan disciple will claim all his ‘60s material is essential, while the ‘70s is good, except when it’s actually very bad, but he was being intentionally bad so it’s actually good. Not that ‘80s stuff though, that was just bad-bad. Dammit though, we only have time to listen to a couple albums in our super busy lives. What’s the absolute best-best album we’re supposed to have? Blonde On Blonde apparently, but that comes with a huge caveat as far as I’m concerned.

I’m by no means a Dylan expert – the fact I’m reviewing this album is by happenstance of a former owner’s contribution to my CD hoarding. I know the history though, the legacy, the influence he’s had on some of my favorite artists. I’ve heard the iconic songs and the loving tributes. But diving into all his music? Sorry, Neil Young’s filled my need for folkie-rocker protester musician. So take these thoughts with grainy sodium, because Blonde On Blonde strikes me as the sort of album one can only fully appreciate as someone thoroughly versed in Dylan’s discography, idiosyncrasies and all.

Many call this his opus, but I’m not hearing much more here that can’t be found on his other ‘electric’ records of the era. There’s definitely a lot more of it though, which is great if you can’t get enough of that clever lyricism and metaphorical storytelling his reputation’s made on. And boy, choosing those famous, unheralded Nashville session musicians when his New York recordings weren’t up to snuff was a brilliant move, the backing tracks fun and exuberant throughout. I just wish I could hear them better in the final mix.

Right, folks come to a Bob Dylan album to hear Bob Dylan doing Bob Dylan th’angs, but damn if his cadence doesn’t grate after a while. Yes, I know this iis just the waaay he sings some-times, which is fine in small doses. For the double-LP length of Blonde On Blonde though, I completely tune out in the back half, especially so for the eleven-minute closer Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands. There are some lovely words being sung, just not in the way they’re being sung, plus he recycles so many melodies from the first half, it’s like the album’s spinning wheels. And why on Earth is that harmonica so damn high and shrill, drowning out the awesome session musicians? It isn’t even all that good a’ blowin’.

By the end of it, Blonde On Blonde comes off like an endurance test for what you can get out of Dylan. If you’re totally down with ol’ Bob, every moment is mana. Methinks one need a little bracer of his other material before coming into this one though.

Various - Almost Famous

DreamWorks Records: 2000

I didn’t care much for the movie Almost Famous. Shock, I know. How could a supposed amateur music critic like I not admire, adore, and even empathize with the story of a young rock journalist’s journey of self-discovery while on a road-trip assignment? Eh, I just don’t, not in the slightest. Though I cannot deny some allure in getting all those sweet backstage passes and being paid to hear live music, I’ve never had any aspirations for music journalism as a career. The whole profession reeks of brown-nosing hustle just to get by, to say nothing of how internet reporting has all but diminished any potential scribe’s worth to publishers. I write these little blurbs about CDs I own not for fame or fortune, but for… hmm, come to think of it, why am I even doing this? Isn’t insanity defined by doing repetitive things for no discernable benefit? Perhaps so, but this niggling OCD’s gotta’ sort itself somehow.

Anyhow, it doesn’t matter what my music blogging aspirations are, for it’s not like Almost Famous has anything to do with that. It’s an inciting incident to get director Cameron Crowe’s autobiographical stand-in, fifteen year old William Miller, on the road with Allman Brothers Band stand-in, Stillwater. The teenager bears witness to things happening during the early ‘70s rock star livin’, like singing, partying, bickering, sexing groupies in denial, and maybe a little clairvoyance along the way. Right, an impending plane crash does help to clear the air with everyone involved, but by the end of the movie, it seems no one’s really learned much from this whole tour. The band, on the verge of stardom, don’t seem destined for much beyond their ‘almost famous’ status regardless. Aside from Kate Hudson (because Character Arc), the groupies still cling to the band with the blinkered optimism being around potentially famous rock stars affords them. And lil’ William learns that, though the rock star lifestyle ain’t all what it’s cracked up to be, it’s still a vital, healing part of so many folks’ souls to outright dismiss it as horrible ‘Satan music’. Wait, maybe I’m thinking the movie Groove here.

Almost Famous is ultimately a movie with super-thick nostalgia shades for a specific era of rock music. It touches on a few of the less-favorable aspects, but not to such a degree that it’ll have Boomers questioning their love for that time. Appropriately, the music on the soundtrack features all the folky and rocker sorts that defined the ‘70s college radio waves. The Who, Simon & Garfunkel, Rod Stewart, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Led Zep’, Cat Stevens all make appearances, with surprising turns from Yes, Beach Boys, Elton John, and David Bowie. It’s a good collection of songs, mostly eschewing obvious hits for tunes that fit the sort of tone Crowe was filming: laidback and carefree as the wind blows, trying to ignore that nagging uncertainty of what all this means in the end, of what the future holds. Punk, mang, the answer is punk.

Sarah McLachlan - Afterglow

Nettwerk: 2003

Sarah McLachlan first came within range of my earholes way back, her oldie single Into The Fire on constant rotation over Vancouver’s radio waves. And why not, an undeniably catchy song that fed off the success of similar lady singer-songwriters of the era (Tori Amos, Sinéad O'Connor). Plus, what youthful teenage boy couldn’t help but be, erm, ‘intrigued’ by that video of Ms. McLachlan lounging about naked, covered in mud? And while I’m almost certain I heard Possession at some point too (aka: that “I’ll take your breath away” song), I didn’t give her much thought after Into The Fire, music bias against anything un-electronic dictating such youthful folly. Thus I must admit to embarrassing shock at not only learning she was still around when her ultra-mega successful Surfacing dropped, but was on the verge of becoming an industry juggernaut for female musicians. Grammys! Lilith Fair! Trance remixes! Well I’ll be darned.

After such unprecedented career fortune, Ms. McLachlan did what any humble gal from Nova Scotia would do: retreat from the spotlight for a while for some quality me-time. This wasn’t her first time doing so, ol’ Sarah taking a six-month sabbatical prior to working on Surfacing. After all the touring and fame that album wrought, damn straight she’d need another bought of recharging. This one lasted much longer though, in part due to a period of mourning after the loss of her mother, but also prepping for motherhood of her own. With all these factors in play, anticipation was high for this album. Could she meet and even surpass her song writing abilities so often exceeded throughout the ‘90s? Would she have new topics to write about, new perspectives on the way life had gone for her in the half-decade since international stardom? Might she incorporate any new production tricks, perhaps go more electronic in lieu of the popularity of all those remixes? The answer to all this is an irresistible “nah, guy.”

Afterglow is quite the apt title, the music here mostly calm and light. It all goes down easy, the sort of songs you’d hear on your adult contemporary station during the grind of work. Sarah doesn’t offer much in the way of fresh insights or innovative song craft, mostly relaying the sort of platitudes you’d expect of someone mostly content in their life. Tracks like Fallen, Stupid, and Train Wreck touch on feelings of loss, whereas Perfect Girl and Push offer messages with some hopeful outlooks. World On Fire hints at the troubles ailing a post-9/11 world, but that’s about as far outside Sarah’s comfort zone of relationship reflections we venture. Lyrically, all the songs on Afterglow are well-written and Sarah’s voice sounds as haunting as ever, but after such a long gap between albums, it’s no surprise folks came away from this tidy ten-tracker underwhelmed. Could it be Ms. McLachlan’s time in the sun had finally set?

I must “nah, guy” again, a surprising new career as an impossibly sad ASPCA spokeswoman beckoning.

Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show - Collections

Sony Music Entertainment: 2001/2004

Making a greatest hits package for the southern rock act Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show was a no-brainer, the '70s replete with their memorable tunes. Whether early oddball jams or latter radio-ready fodder, any label would have plenty to choose from. Except Sony, who only had access Hooky's first three albums on Columbia. After switching over to Capitol – and dropping “The Medicine Show” for legal purposes – Dr. Hook saw much greater success, even if their quirkiness was sanded off in the process. This puts Collections into something of a conundrum, getting hands on the group's break-out hit and most memorable hit but denied the bulk of actual charting singles. The only recourse is filling the majority of this 'super hits' CD with songs that really aren't hits at all. Maybe it'll at least give a decent overview of Dr. Hook's beginnings then.

Before getting into those beginnings though, we must talk pre-beginnings, specifically the most famous face of Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show, and what’s up with his look (yes, the guy on the cover). The man was born Ray Sawyer, and had bounced around music gigs before growing dissatisfied with the whole thing. Deciding to do the right thing – the proper societal thing – he set out to Oregon to find his way in the wide world of logging. One car crash later, he lost his eye, and concluded the rock Gods wanted him back in the music world. And that’s why we always think of Dr. Hook as that guy with the eye-patch, massive side-burns and country hat, even though George Cummings was the main architect of the group, with Sawyer a contributing guitarist and vocalist. Ol’ Ray was never the actual Dr. Hook, though the band’s name was inspired by the eyepatch he wore, thoughts of pirates and connecting Captain Hook to the image. Yeah, that doesn’t make sense, but then drugs, y’know?

Of course, the other reason everyone thinks of Sawyer as Dr. Hook is he does vocals on their most famous hit, Cover Of The “Rolling Stone”. It tells the tale of finding all the fame and fortune of being a superstar rock band, but still suffering the indignity of never making the cover of the respectable magazine. Before that came out though, there was Sylvia’s Mother, a southern rock ballad that’s more representative of the music most associate with Dr. Hook. I doubt it’s been covered by as many burgeoning bands as Cover Of The “Rolling Stone” has.

As for specifics, four songs come from their first album (Sylvia’s Mother, honky-tonk Makin’ It Natural, pervy I Call That True Love, tender Kiss It Away), four from their second (fetish love-in Freaker’s Ball, country-blues Carry Me, Carrie, ultra-Nashville If I’d Only Come And Gone, plus ”Rolling Stone”), and two from the third (bar sing-along Life Ain’t Easy, generic ballad You Ain’t Got the Right). Yeah, these guys can run the gamut of topics and styles. Sweet harmonies too.

Kitaro - Silk Road II

Polydor: 1980

It's negligent discussing Kitaro's early career without bringing up The Silk Road. The seminal archaeological series was already a remarkable achievement for documentaries, among the first major ones produced in the Far East, and often highly regarded alongside Western greats like Attenborough's Life series and Sagan's Cosmos. It provided an intimate look at China's historical sights and locales, many of which had never been filmed or photographed during the nation’s reclusive years, much less exposed to the world. And as with so many of these sorts of shows, the soundtrack was vital to its success as a series. Just as you can't think of Cosmos without thinking of music from Vangelis, so it is with The Silk Road and Kitaro.

For anyone who’s watched the series, sounds of synthesized Far East harmonies is practically synonymous with the image of camel caravans traversing the desert against a setting sun. And a great many have, doing wonders for Kitaro’s exposure abroad. He was already making a name for himself with his original works and albums, but chances were unless you were hip to that whole synth music scene, his material would pass you by. Besides, how could he challenge Tomita for the crown of “Most Popular Japanese Synth Wizard” anyway? Music in a beloved documentary series certainly helps, not to mention an ear for melding the exotic with traditionalism making for easy appeal for folks of all walks in life.

If anything, having his music coupled with images of desert vistas, flowing rivers, mountain passes, ancient cultures, and a sense of mystery and discovery helped sell Kitaro’s style. It’s easy to take the these tunes out of that context and hear the New Age, sentimental sap creep in, which I’m sure some might if they simply played them plucked from the soundtrack. Certainly you can glean a few things on your own with titles like Takla Makan Desert (wide open landscapes) and Silver Moon (haunting beauty) without watching a single image of wind-swept sand dunes and the like. Seeing centuries old Buddhist statues though, so impeccably preserved in desert caves accompanied by Kitaro’s classic flutes, sparkling synths, and soothing pads, all playing captivating folk harmonies as the most evocative Far East music goes... Yeah, there’s something rather magic about it all, I must admit.

As The Silk Road’s initial run lasted twelve episodes, Kitaro crafted many compositions for the series, two full-length albums in all. Remarkably, very few tracks sound all that ‘soundtracky’, most capably standing on their own. In volume II’s case, Eternal Spring and Reincarnation have more rhythmic urgency about them, Magical Sand Dance and Tienshan go for larger crescendos, and Dawning works in synthesized chants, but all retain that sense of timelessness of the ancient world, traditionalism surviving even to the digital era. Both Silk Road albums are probably worth getting, though I’m talking up this one because it has one of my all-time favourite Kitaro pieces in Silver Moon on it. Used CD shop options were considered too.

Fallen - Secrets Of The Moon

Tranquillo Records: 2015

Why did neo-folky Lorenzo Bracaloni choose the alias of Fallen for his new project? There’s so many Fallens out there. Lord Discogs lists at least a dozen who’ve taken on the moniker prior to Bracaloni. For that matter, why even use a whole new alias? Is his material as The Child Of A Creek just too different from what he provides in this CD? Huh, I guess I should take a listen to some of those albums just to be sure. With five LPs out there, a couple ought to be on the Spotifys or Bandcamps for a quick perusal. I’ll be right back.

And I’m back. Wow, Lord Discogs wasn’t kidding when it described The Child Of A Creek as neo-folk. Half the time I feel like I’m in some medieval fantasy book or a quieter moment out of the Witcher series, but with added contemporary treatments like ambient synth washes or prog-rock guitar echoes. Neat stuff, though I can’t say it’s a sound I actively search for. Oh, and aside from similar influences in instrumentation, nothing like the music on this album of Secrets Of The Moon.

For one thing, there’s no singing for the Fallen – we’re dealing with instrumental-only pieces here. I wouldn’t call it pure ambient though, as there’s a steady, rhythmic pulse throughout most of these tracks, either as traditional percussion but sometimes complemented with an electronic bassline too. It takes elements of New Age meditation folk and jettisons all the bits that makes that music so tepid and sap, rather like TUU in their heyday (please tell me you still remember TUU). I also get something of a krautrock vibe here, mostly of that genre’s quieter moments with synth effects and echoing guitar. By and large though, we’re in the realms of outdoor chill music as enjoyed in the cool, summer twilight, a light mist obscuring the moon high in the sky. Oh, what secrets Luna holds on this particular night, wonder thee (rocks; it’s mostly rocks).

Particulars, then, because I need to burn a little more word count here. A mere six tracks make up Secrets Of The Moon, each lengthy but not tediously so, placing the album at about a breezy fifty-five minutes. The longest of these (and the titular cut) goes through a few movements but generally returns to a somber oboe melody with dark pads in support. The second longest track, Cosmos, opens with minimalist drone, soon giving way to Middle Eastern percussion and lengthy synth passages before finally erupting in bright synth-drone washes and distant guitars. Elsewhere, shorter pieces Ravenhand prominently features a santoor, Of Dreams allows the electric guitar centre stage, and Golden Dust has a very ethereal gothic vibe going for it.

So this was a fun little bit of exploration. Like The Child Of A Creek, I can’t say I’m inclined to check out future Fallen (14) efforts, but it was worth getting out of my comfort zone for Secrets Of The Moon.

ACE TRACKS: July 2013

*SIGH*…. So much for my hockey hopefuls. Why do I continue routing for teams that never quite make it? Maybe I just dislike the successful teams because they’re always beating the teams I like. In that case, go Tampa Bay Lightening, I guess. I’ve no quarrel with you, even supported them during their first Cup win (because LOL Calgary Flames), it’d be cool to see Steve Stamkos win a Cup early in his career, and all those goals Tyler Johnson’s scoring would be such a waste if he doesn’t win Conn Smythe. Doesn’t make me any more interesting in the NHL Playoffs though – heck, the NBA Playoffs are looking more intriguing about now. The remaining teams are all title starved, the last any of them having won a Ring two decades ago, another four decades ago (to say nothing of the zilch victories of Atlanta and Cleveland). Some long-suffering fanbase is gonna’ be celebrating and flipping cars long into the night this June! What? Oh, right, here’s ACE TRACKS: July 2013. Knew I was ignoring something.


Full Track List Here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Mind Distortion System - He Claims To Be Not Human

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 26%
Percentage Of Rock: 28% (though a chunk of it is technically Neil Young folksy stuff)
Most “WTF?” Track: Ice Cube - You Can’t Fade Me (seriously, those lyrics)

Another weird month, this one. It started with a couple Greatest Hits CDs, got seriously grimy with Ice Cube and Grooverider jungle, chilled for a bit with Swayzak, Kruder, and Dorfmeister, a little UK mainstream with Fatboy Slim and Gorillaz, banged it out with hard desert trance, Neil Young came in with an acoustic guitar, and ended with some mishmashed stuff at the end. Clearly the only way to treat such an erratic collection of tunes is another alphabetical playlist. Except for AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted and Steve Miller Band’s Greatest Hits, which are lumped at the end as full albums. A bizarre, unworkable contrast, you say? Heh, welcome to what it’s like listening to all this music as I have for the last couple years.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Rust Never Sleeps

Reprise Records: 1979/1990

The only Neil Young Comeback Album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a fan of Neil Young Comeback Albums. Yes, he's had enough of them to count as their own, distinct branch in the massive tree that is Rusty's discography. They're not so definitive as before, his career lately seeing more ebb and flow rather than peaks and valleys of decades pasts. For a brief while there in the '70s though, it looked as though Young would never recapture the creative spark that marked his early material.

Not that he was in a serious slump leading up to this album – certainly nothing that could rival the true dark times of the mid-‘80s. Unfortunately, following his critically lauded “Ditch Trilogy”, Young was in danger of succumbing to a terrible thing for any popular musician: irrelevancy. His album output had turned sketchy, failing to grab fresh audiences as new trends took hold of public discourse in the late ‘70s. Thus, like most rockers of the ‘60s, he was left with only two options. One: double-down on the music that earned him his dedicated following, and retain his loyal fans but risk creative stagnation. Two: attempt a bandwagon jump, keeping one’s name with the pace of cultural movements, but almost certainly make an ass of yourself in the process; a desperate bid at remaining relevant. Naturally, Neil F’n Young chose option number Three: cater to the faithful, and successfully tap into a new rock zeitgeist.

The inspiration came with a concept tour, one that would encompass two performances on stage. The first half would be primarily a solo outing of him playing acoustic folk material (with a duet thrown in here and there), then Crazy Horse would join him for some rock ‘n’ roll ruckus. He’d play some old standards, but mostly new material (from which this album’s track list was culled). The stage itself had giant-sized props of gear, handled by roadies dressed in Jawa costumes, and encourage audience interaction by donning faux 3D glasses, witnessing the band “decay before their very eyes”. It was the most theatrical set of concerts Young had ever put on, in some small part inspired by his wacky chums over at the Devo camp. In truth, they came up with the phrase “rust never sleeps” for a cleaner solution advertisement. Figures Young would take it as representing the dangers of artistic decay.

The folk numbers become some of Rustie’s enduring classics, a critical look back on his musical compatriots in Thrashers, and more stands for Native American tragedies in Pocahontas and Ride My Llama. Where he truly made a mark though, was Hey Hey, My My, a thunderous blast of distortion and noise that put his generation of rockers on notice: punk music was the real deal, a force that could not be ignored. Time to adapt, or unceremoniously fade as the old King Of Rock, Elvis Presley, had so recently. Some serious shots fired there, and pay attention the rock world did.

The Beatles - Rubber Soul

Capitol Records: 1965/2009

The only Beatles album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a Beatles fan. Because let's be honest: who really likes all the studio experimenting they did after Rubber Soul? There were plenty of good songs, but so much of it fell victim to weirdness like tape manipulations, overdubbing, orchestras, and Indian tonal scales. Whatever happened to the good ol' rock 'n' roll that made the lads from Liverpool super-huge megastars? Yeah, it's here and there, but almost in lip-service rather than their defining musical style. No, best stay away from latter-era Beatles, where they even let Ringo write songs.

That isn't to say Rubber Soul doesn't have its share of new ideas either. If anything, this album marked a major step away from the happy do-lucky mop top rock that created all sorts of screaming girl havoc. They’d just completed a second North American tour, and in that time had taken in plenty of local flavours that were gaining popularity in the USA alongside their own music. This included the impeccable vocal harmonization of The Beach Boys and authentic Motown soul, but most importantly the folk rock styling of Bob Dylan and The Byrds.

In the case of Dylan, their lyrics took a big step for Beatlekind, distancing themselves from easy couplets and simple phrases screaming girls could sing along to when they weren’t screaming for Paul or John or that emo George. Now their songs contained mature content for an aging audience and lovely imagery. Okay, it’s almost all still dealing with love and relationships, but there’s plenty of wiggle-room for exploration in these topics too, areas their early teeny-bop tunes couldn’t deal with. Like such intimacy with Norwegian Wood, or a melancholic Christian parable in Girl, or times long past in In My Life, or the nasty post-breakup threats of Run For Your Life. Whoa, where’d that come from? Meanwhile, the dour Harrison had about enough of love songs by that point, and wrote Think For Yourself, something of a governmental screed. He also co-wrote the reflective Nowhere Man, though that was mostly John’s song, apparently inspired by a bought of writer’s block. Damn marijuana.

Speaking of Harrison and drugs, another thing he learned from David Crosby of The Byrds was a kooky string instrument called a sitar. He learned to play the darned thing and even incorporated it into Norwegian Wood, though in keeping to a Western scale, it don’t sound as ethnic as his later uses of it – a perfect bit of spice to the tune’s charming folksiness. A few more new additions to The Beatles’ repertoire was fuzz box for McCartney in Think For Yourself, French lyrics in Michelle, and a sped-up piano intended to mimic a harpsichord for In My Life.

The biggest contribution Rubber Soul provided the rock world, however, was the notion an album could have end-to-end great songs rather than consisting of filler servicing the singles. Yep, the entire pseudo-genre of Album Orientated Rock was birthed here!

Jefferson Airplane - Platinum & Gold Collection

BMG Heritage: 2003

It may be the biggest fucking cliché having Jefferson Airplane in a music collection, but what was an aging counter-culture chap to do? I was already in my mid-Twenties, man, feeling my grimy raver’s roots slipping away as the allure of proper clubbing beckoned in the big city. But I was still hip, yo’, still down with the folksy, psychedelic sounds that pot smokers and such couldn’t get enough of. I’ll prove it! There, that CD sitting in the bargain bin of this supermarket we’re currently rummaging through. It’s got a couple bona-fide classics of the San Fran’ ‘60s scene – heck, some of these members were utterly adamant that they built that city – built it – built that city – built – built that city on – built it – ‘n’ ro-o-o-l-l-l-l! Head trip, yeah.

Seriously though, the Jefferson Airplane story is a crucial one in understanding how influential their brand of folksy psychedelic rock became, endearing itself to a generation, and several others after who admire the hippie lifestyle (*cringe*). It's only fitting that the band came to an end as the '70s took hold, creative differences leading to a split – one became Jefferson Starship, because '70s sci-fi and shit; the other became Hot Tuna, because '70s progressive, drugs and shit. And then there was just Starship in '80s, which was a huge commercial success and represented all that went wrong for '60s rockers in that decade. Let us never speak of it again.

Obviously with such timeless classics like White Rabbit, Somebody To Love, and... um... mmm… (*checks track list*) ah, Watch Her Ride, the Thomas Aviator Band's seen tons of official and unofficial greatest hits collections over the years. This is one of them. As I recall, the Platinum & Gold Collection series was BMG's excuse to trot out their catalog every so often, just in case you didn't already have these songs on CD or in this order yet (buy the albums? Pft, what are you, a vinyl enthusiast?). There really isn't much else to say about this particular compilation that a rock historian hasn't tirelessly detailed elsewhere.

The main take-away I got from Platinum & Gold Collection is how succinctly it summarizes the San Fran' music scene. The first couple tracks are incredibly folksy, which makes sense since Jefferson Airplane was only a small group of folk musicians when they debuted. Then the psychedelia rode in on a rainbow wave, and they got all trippy good – half this disc features songs from Surrealistic Pillow, from which their most memorable hits came about (adding Grace Slick to the line-up didn't hurt). Then everyone went crazy against war and all that bad stuff, protest rock the new hotness. Figures the final track on here, Volunteers is of the band chanting that there's a revolution going on (Woodstock anthem!). Appropriate for the Jefferson Airplane story ending there, then, before glum reality settled in for the starry-eyed hippie generation. Or a fitting conclusion to this CD. Take your pick.

Sykonee Surveys Spotify's Senseless Suggestions: Round 1

You’re always getting recommendations from them – Amazon, iTunes, Spotify, Songza (really…?) – but how often do they align with your actual tastes? Does it depend on how effective their data algorithms are, or how large a pool of information they have to work with? Simple shameless marketing? Not that I ever bothered following their suggestions, as I beat to my own drum, seeking out the music I want to hear, not what some other thinks is best for me. Hmph. *adjusts monocle*

So when Spotify sends me an email of their suggestions (geez, already, guys?), I’m ready to automatically send it to the Trash. “But wait,” says the little spider in my head, “why not turn this into an opportunity?” “How do you mean, little spider coiled around my cerebellum?” “Reviewing the music from your personal collection’s fine and all, but why not spice things up a little? Listen to the recommendations Spotify sends you, maybe discover some new acts while giving a chance to those you’ve casually dismissed in the past.”

The Spotify Spider makes a point. I really ought to mix my content up some, lest I burn myself out on standard reviews all too quickly again. Plus, I’m curious to see whether Spotify’s suggestions might improve, narrow in on my tastes as I sample their catalog more and more.

Here’s how this’ll work. Spotify sends me ten suggestions with each email (I don’t know how frequent these will be yet). I will sample the first two songs of that artist/band/act I see on Spotify and give a quick summation of what I hear, plus a ‘rating’ based on how close Spotify got it to my interest. Sounds good? Alright, no sense wasting time, let’s get onto the first round!


Cake - 1. The Distance / 2. Short Skirt/Long Jacket

Okay, this is unexpected. I think I’ve heard of Cake, a rock/funk/hop/etc. fusion band that’s been around since the early ‘90s. The second tune sounds like something that would have come about in the late ‘90s ska era (those trumpets…), which isn’t surprising as it came out in 2001. The Distance sound more punk-grungey, again unsurprising as it’s a mid-‘90s song. I’ve a feeling their discography’s far more eclectic than this though. It’s funky enough to pique my interest. Will check some later.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Jungle - 1. Time / 2. The Heat

Hey, I like me some jungle! Amazing Spotify would recommend a whole genre though. Oh, wait, the band’s name is Jungle. And they’re… another fusion band, though the electro/synth-pop/glam-funk vein. Jungle’s very new too, both these tracks coming from their self-titled debut album released this year; also signed to XL Recordings, which is why Spotify suggested them to me? Both tracks are rather similar, The Heat a tad slower and groovier. They’ve definitely got a nice sound, but come off a bit too fluff and hipster-bait. Not that it’s a bad thing, as Hercules & Love Affair proved.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Katy Perry - 1. This Is How We Do / 2. Dark Horse

Oh dear. This is going to mess up future suggestions, isn’t it. What else is there to say about Katy Perry? She’s hot, she got an annoying high pitch, and is somehow a pop music juggernaut, currently towering over every other female in the business. She seems like a nice enough lady, even if she’s constantly presenting herself as a total ditz. I don’t need to hear anything more from her on Spotify because every pop radio station won’t stop playing her songs. Ugh. Dark Horse, her weak jump on bass music, you’ve almost certainly been forced to hear at some point this year. Not sure why This Is How We Do was the first song though, as it’s a fairly generic dance tune, even by Perry standards.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 0/5, at least on Spotify; there’s no escaping her radio presence.

Hybrid Minds - 1. Meant To Be / 2. Lost

Ah, here’s the jungle. Liquid funk to be exact, but these two tunes blend the blissy vibes of atmospheric jungle too. Hybrid Minds are another newish act, though the members have been players in the D’n’B scene for a while. Even with the standard, brisk 2-step in action, these are some lovely chill-out soul tunes. I can honestly say I haven’t heard much like it before, and I’m apparently not the only one, a quick scan of their PR praising them for an innovative direction in the liquid funk scene. Lord knows it could use it. Mmm, that Mountains album looks tantalizing…

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 4/5

Radiohead - 1. Creep / 2. No Surprises

Wait, I thought Radiohead wasn’t on Spotify! Ah, it’s just Thom Yorke that pulled his own material. Everything Radiohead released with the EMI group is here. Go figure. Also, I can’t say I’m eager to hear much more Radiohead. Creep I’ve heard plenty of times, especially at karaoke nights. I’m sated, thank you. OK Computer’s an album I’ve kinda-sorta thought about getting some day, but I’m in no rush. I totally forgot about No Surprises, those charming bells reminding me of Brian Wilson down in the mopes. I like that era of Radiohead better than their early work anyway. *gasp*

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Angels & Airwaves - 1. Paralyzed / 2. The Adventure

Apparently a rock supergroup, comprised of members of bands that I’ve kinda liked (NIN, The Offspring), not at all liked (Blink-182), or never heard before (*shrug*). Paralyzed is their most recent single, sounding like a heavier arena rock anthem, but is over before it ever gets warmed up. Damn radio versions. The Adventure, on the other hand, instantly reminds me of jangly ‘80s U2, but with shouty vocals rather than Bono’s operatic bellow. I can see this being a favorite of folks growing too ‘mature’ for outright angst rock, but totally not for me, thanks.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 1/5

Mayday Parade - 1. Stay / 2. Terrible Things

Another ‘punk-opera’ band? Why is Spotify recommending this to me? It says because its “popular in [my] area”, which may be true, but I haven’t a clue about that. This is a scene I don’t follow at all. A few of my old high-school friends living nearby might like it though. Actually, these two songs remind me more of emo’s more twee moments, especially so with Terrible Things, a simple piano ballad that erupts into an overblown arena-rock cry for emotion. Perfect for a teen drama. Pass.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 1/5

Grateful Dead - 1. Friend Of The Devil / 2. Casey Jones

The Grateful Dead are a very important hippie jam band in the world of hippie jam bands. I remember seeing a cool video of theirs where the band members became skeleton puppets, but they’re not a group I’ve cared to dig into much. Not from a lack of interest, oh no! There’s just so damn much of it out there, and most claim their live material’s better than studio recordings anyway. I had no idea they had a blues-rock number named after a Ninja Turtles character (hur hur!). A Dead Dive could happen some day, if I’m in the mood for ‘70s folk rock again.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5

Snow Patrol - 1. Chasing Cars / 2. You Could Be Happy

Yay, another ‘inspired by Radiohead’ shoegazey rock band. I know I’ve seen Snow Patrol name-dropped before, almost certainly on indie sites eager for the next Radiohead to emerge. I feel like I’ve heard both these songs before too, though maybe the ‘gentle twee beginning into widescreen wall-of-rock’ song writing became so prevalent in the mid-‘00s, it all mushed together from my perspective. They probably have different songs, but I’m already bored by these Radiohead clones. Moving on.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 2/5

The Strokes - 1. Reptilia / 2. Someday

Alright, real rock! Or revivalist garage rock - something with teeth at least. I still remember when The Strokes were being counted upon to save rock music from its current doldrums like it was a decade ago. Most had written them off when they went on a half-decade hiatus, but they’re back, making their same brand of unapologetically simplistic rock ‘n’ roll. I assume anyway, since these two songs are from their breakout years. Now I’m curious whether they have evolved as a band or not. Not dying to hear, mind you, but one of these days, perhaps.

Odds I’ll Listen Again: 3/5


And the final tally for this round of Spotify Suggests is 23/50. Oh dear, that’s not good at all. Then again, it is early in this experiment. We’ll see how things improve whenever I get another email.

ACE TRACKS: June 2014

Told you making these playlists don’t take long. I could almost make posts like this a weekly thing, which would finally complete the whole backlog by about, oh, Spring Break. No rush. Anyhow, here’s ACE TRACKS: June 2014


Link to full tracklist on Deezer.

Missing Albums:
Bandulu - Guidance
Bandulu - Cornerstone
Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia - The Key
2 Unlimited - No Limits (Found!)

Hip-Hop Percentage: 6%
Neil Young Percentage: 25%
Most “WTF?” Track: Buffalo Springfield - I Am A Child (you'll know why when you hear it)

Bloody shame about Bandulu not being available – would love a little more attention thrown in their direction, even if it’s only on Spotify Deezer. But yes, June was dominated by that Neil Young: Archives collection, which made putting this playlist something of a challenge. That’s just way too much of a single artist to take in a single sitting, and I say this as an absolute fan of the guy! Wound up with half-a-dozen of his songs just lumped together at the end.

Complicating things further were the equal amounts of psy dub, ‘70s synth music, and poppy dance and trance. These styles of music do not mesh well at all, much less while shoehorning ‘60s folk and rock in the there. Hell, the tribal-dub-techno of Bandulu and PWoG actually help bridge them together. I kept things flowing as best I could with what I had to work with, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some feel compelled to hit that skip button.

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?