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Seven Backwards Guitars (Part 4)

Carlos — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 18:35:48 GMT

This article continues the series from Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

4. Pepper

My only run-in with the Butthole Surfers was at a concert in Hamburg, in a small club which had been massively oversold. Inevitably, it ended in an all-out riot featuring ambulances and police arrests.

To be frank (and not necessarily because of that experience), I've never been too keen on the Surfers' unique blend of musical styles and their less-than-subtle sense of humour. Nevertheless, 1996's Pepper, their most successful attempt at going mainstream, pushes many of my favorite musical buttons. It's a captivating mixture of trip-hop and psychedelia with a plenty of backwards effects including the chorus.

5. Let Forever Be

In the context of this series, there are certainly plenty of tracks to choose from within the Chemical Brothers' repertoire. I very much admire the way Mr. Tom and Mr. Ed constructed a groundbreaking synthesis of past and present pop idioms.

Their first explicit nod to Tomorrow Never Knows was Setting Sun, a 1996 collaboration with Noel Gallagher. It was close enough to Lennon's masterpiece in both spirit and execution to provoke accusations of illegal sampling from overzealous Apple lawyers.

Along the same stylistic lines, The Private Psychedelic Reel and Surrender could also have been titled Mark 3 or mistaken for remixed Revolver outtakes. But I'm going to instead cast my vote for Let Forever Be, another Gallagher co-creation from 1999. Why? Because:

It's strongly reminiscent of Tomorrow Never Knows, not just in style but also in the feel of its lyrics.
It has a captivating video featuring Michel Gondry's pseudo-kaleidoscopic effects.
It's permanently burned into my brain due to several years of usage as the opening theme to Estudio Fútbol (the only football punditry show I watch regularly, if only for the occasional appearance by the deliciously knowledgeable Luciana Rubinska).

Check out the Chemical Brothers and Noel Gallagher reminiscing about the genesis of Let Forever Be.

Too Much Too Young

Carlos — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 18:40:15 GMT

Here's a quickie review in lieu of a longer essay while I recover from an unexpectedly strong antibiotic. Tip: there are 100 trillion microorganisms living in your body. Don't kill them all because most perform very useful functions.

Mr. Postman dropped off yesterday, among the usual pile of bills and junk, three* rented DVDs from Netflix. Among them was Too Much Too Young, a new DVD compilation about The Specials from Image Entertainment.

The DVD gathers all their promo videos plus some live footage shot during their 1980 US tour.

The Good

It's hard to believe that all sorts of throwaway bands have gotten lavish DVD compilations and retrospectives, whereas the Specials have been completely neglected up to this point. This DVD somewhat rectifies that sad state of affairs, but not in a completely satisfactory way (see below).

The new 1980 live footage is nice to have, but unfortunately there are no complete tracks, with mostly very short segments and constant gaps and jumps. Too bad, because the performances themselves seem killer.

The Bad

The compilation feels very low-budget and opportunistic. The audio was not remastered and seems to be untouched from the original VHS release. There is a very noticeable skip in Enjoy Yourself (29:47, not present in the VHS version), as well as occasional video dropouts.

In fact, since the video is not a significant improvement over the VHS version, all evidence points to a VHS source. The sloppiness extends to the physical disc itself—the title is not part of the printed label and is instead a sticker on the inner rim. It almost feels like a bootleg that found some copyright loophole in the USA in order to get to market as a commercial product.

In terms of added material, the release is very US-centric and aimed at a casual buyer, so 99% of people reading this will find the pseudo-documentary and narration rather superfluous (thankfully, he keeps quiet during the music videos). If you're expecting a thorough and professional compilation like the outstanding Complete Jam, you will be hugely disappointed.

Perhaps a future official release specifically directed at the UK market will address some of these issues.

The Bottom Line

Buyer beware.

If you live in the USA and don't already own any Specials video material, this DVD is a reasonable start in terms of coverage.

If you live outside the USA, or already own a bootleg VHS rip, stay away. If you're a completist and need to satisfy your curiosity, rent it. The origin is dubious and the technical quality is not significantly better than what was previously available. Keep your bootleg and wait for an official UK product.

Either way, although the Specials' promo videos are historically important, my opinion is that the 1979 Colchester concert and their Saturday Night Live appearance do a better job of conveying the talent and raw energy of the band at their peak. Let's hope that some of that live footage gets an official release at some point.

*The other two discs were 1998's Detention/Learning Curve and 2002's Lost in La Mancha. Both films were above average and I can recommend renting them.

Seven Backwards Guitars (Part 3)

Carlos — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 16:28:09 GMT

This article continues the series from Part 1 and Part 2.

3. Waterfall/Don't Stop

Balls, balls, balls. You've got to admit, the Stone Roses had balls!

Your debut album—a situation that can make or break you. What do you do? Play it safe? Of course not! You leave yourself open to a beating from both your fans and the press by doing something unthinkable and unexpected.

Like, for example, taking the backing track for the third song on your album, reversing it, and plonking down the five-minute result as your fourth track!

Art? Garbage? Probably both, in the grand tradition of Revolution 9 and Metal Machine Music. But, due to the level of risk involved, Don't Stop seems more meritorious and meaningful than those two precedents. Granted, the Roses already had a solid name and reputation before the release of their first album, but nevertheless it took courage to stand by an uncommercial artistic experiment without the cushion of an established career.

Either way, the combo was very carefully thought out, given that Don't Stop had some extremely clever additions beyond simply using Waterfall in reverse. Forward drums were added, as well as nonsensical new lyrics which, when played backwards, phonetically sound like Waterfall's lyrics. In effect, the two songs are as close to being mirror images as possible, with the reversed version sounding as normal as is feasible given the constraints.

Tongue-in-cheek or not, Ian Brown has said that, of all the songs the Roses did, Don't Stop is one of his favourites, and one of the few things he was satisfied with on their debut album. And the Chemical Brothers have named Don't Stop as one of their top ten songs of all time.

Unfortunately, the impact of Waterfall/Don't Stop as an artistic statement was somewhat diminished by repeating the same trick with Guernica (Made of Stone in reverse, but with forward lyrics) and Simone (Where Angels Play reversed). Less is more—except, perhaps, when a full five years elapse between your first and second albums!

Seven Backwards Guitars (Part 2)

Carlos — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 19:58:20 GMT

This article continues the series started in Part 1.

2. That's Entertainment

When asked to quickly name a song with psychedelic influences from The Jam's catalog, 99.9% of respondents would probably blurt out Dreams of Children. And when asked for songs specifically influenced by Revolver, the first thing that comes to mind is probably Start! (cover versions of And Your Bird Can Sing and Rain notwithstanding).

But since I've always found Dreams of Children to be one of The Jam's less inspirational efforts, and since Start! borrows from a Harrison song that has many merits but lacks backwards bits, I'm instead going to meet both requirements by choosing the overlooked That's Entertainment. Like Tomorrow Never Knows, it's a song that evolved from rough diamond to perfectly polished gem partially via the subtle use of backwards sound effects.

Weller had been dabbling with backwards overdubs since at least as far back as All Mod Cons, mostly via decorative layering inside various intros and outros. But in That's Entertainment, the backwards guitars are placed right in the middle of the song and actually serve a critical function. A monotonic song with no middle eight might make for a boring experience, even if accompanied by brilliant lyrics. The Beatles solved that problem in Tomorrow Never Knows by means of tape loops, and in 1980 their solution was reused by Weller and producer Vic Coppersmith-Heaven under similar circumstances.

The result is that That's Entertainment neatly defuses any possibility of listener fatigue via the backwards guitar that kicks in around the two-minute mark. Its unexpected arrival not only tells the subconscious brain to keep alert, but it also sends a wink to in-the-know listeners who might share Weller's Revolver infatuation during his Sound Affects phase.

As with Tomorrow Never Knows, we've got a bunch of early takes and demos of That's Entertainment floating around (as well as many live renditions). In spite of their rough charm and historical value, those alternate versions do seem raw and monotonous when compared to the multilevel impact of the official release and its wonderful retrolooking production.

Amazing Journey: The Story of the Who

Carlos — Thu, 03 Jan 2008 00:57:05 GMT

Amazing Journey is a documentary film about The Who. It had a limited theatrical run in 2007 and was released as a 2-disc DVD in November. The official site can be found here.

Musically speaking, The Who is a strange beast that straddles both the best and worst of the 60s and the 70s. Personally, I'm only really interested in their pop and r&b material, more or less up to Tommy. Their operatic and stadium-rock phases I simply can't get into (musically or visually).

Having said that, during the 70s Townshend did accomplish something I have great admiration for on a number of levels: the film (not the album) Quadrophenia. So keep in mind that this review focuses on the personally interesting bits and more or less ignores everything else.

The Good

Any new documentary about The Who has to inevitably be compared to the seminal The Kids are Alright and other opportunistic lower-budget efforts such as Under Review 1964-1968. In that regard, I find Amazing Journey to be an improvement over its predecessors in a number of ways.

First off, Amazing Journey is officially sanctioned, which means that it features top-notch source material and proper band member interviews as opposed to random pundits as in Under Review. Furthermore, unlike Kids, it:

covers a longer timespan to the present day
has more balance in terms of interviews vs. music
features additional relevant personalities (Stamp, Barnes, Talmy, families, etc)
is faster-paced with shorter segments

Although it's a plus that Kids has long and unedited segments when covering the early Who, that tactic becomes terribly boring during later bits such as Woodstock and Who's Next. Amazing Journey, on the other hand, follows a standard documentary format with very tight editing, and therefore makes it much easier to stick through passages that aren't as interesting.

Given the age of some of the material, the video and audio quality is excellent. There is a lot of fantastic early footage, especially on the second disc, that is previously unreleased or only available in limited crappy quality. In fact, if (like me) you're already too familiar with the story of the band from the other documentaries and various books such as the ones by Richard Barnes and Dave Marsh, you might find some of the bonus features more valuable than the main film itself. The full unedited 1964 Railway Hotel performance and Who Art You? (a 10-minute segment covering the Who's art and mod influences) are especially captivating.

The Bad

It's a shame that the marketing wizards behind the film felt that the story, characters, and music weren't powerful enough to stand on their own. Appearances and endorsements by contemporary artists like Eddie Vedder, Noel Gallagher, and The Edge are prevalent throughout. Those snippets aren't without some value, but they would have been better off as a separate "legacy and influence" feature in the bonus materials.

The film's modern pacing and short segments (its main strengths versus Kids) are also its main weakness. There were several times where I wished that the director would have stayed for a while longer with some particular event or vintage clip. In all fairness, however, the bonus disc plus the existence of Kids should address the needs of viewers wanting more material.

Last but not least, from an emotional standpoint, it's a bit of a downer to watch the last half hour meander into tragic deaths, loss of relevance, and middle-aged geezers singing that they hope to die before they get old. Stick to watching Kids if you prefer a story that ends on a high note with the protagonists all living happily and still in their prime.

The Bottom Line

If you're interested in the early part of The Who's history, these two DVDs do a good job of complementing and expanding prior documentaries. At a minimum, they're worth a rental, but most likely you'll find that they deserve a place right next to The Kids are Alright as a permanent addition to your collection.

Seven Backwards Guitars (Part 1)

Carlos — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 18:28:08 GMT

1. Tomorrow Never Knows

Sometimes, within five seconds of listening to a new song, you know exactly who the artist has been listening to (or, less kindly, who he's trying to imitate). Along those lines, it's especially easy to tell when someone's been looking towards 1966 for inspiration, because nothing says 1966 like a backwards guitar. More precisely: nothing says 1966, Beatles, and Revolver like a backwards guitar. Sure, other contemporary acts (Stones, Kinks, Hendrix, Barrett to name a few) dabbled in backwards experiments here and there, but none of those efforts were as innovative, in-your-face, or memorable as what the Beatles accomplished.

I view the 65-67 period from Rubber Soul to Strawberry Fields as the cream of the Beatles' and Lennon's songwriting (i.e. excluding the decent but overrated Pepper). Inside that timeline filled with great peaks, the equivalent of Everest is a song preliminarily titled Mark I, eventually released under the meaningless Ringo-ism Tomorrow Never Knows. It's quite simply the most innovative and revolutionary song ever created, the musical equivalent of Picasso's Demoiselles d'Avignon, precisely marking the moment at which stylistic constraints disappeared and abstraction broke through with full force into mainstream pop music.

Recorded on April 6 and 7 of 1966, Tomorrow Never Knows was such a gigantic leap forward in terms of both structure and lyrics that it could be mistaken for something delivered by aliens or time travellers from the future. It sticks out like a sore thumb, even in the context of an already groundbreaking album, making it very hard to believe that the Beatles and Martin could produce a track so avant-garde only three years after the embarrassing (in retrospect) juvenile simplicity of I Want to Hold Your Hand.

Fearfully, it was relegated to the end of Revolver, making sure that listeners would get through the rest of the album before having to cope with the shock of such a different experience.

Time has caught up with the song, and it no longer sounds as revolutionary as it might have done in 1966. But it's still interesting to understand its evolution, and why McCartney's backwards loops play a such a key role in the successful delivery of the track.

Indeed, the un-looped first take as documented in the Anthology series sounds innovative enough, but it's also repetitive, slow, and ultimately boring. The new drumming and random backwards elements added in Take 3 transform the song completely, making the listener's ears perk up while his brain furiously tries to make sense of what the hell is coming out of his speakers. Seagulls? Out-of-tune instruments? No, not at all, just backwards loops featuring distorted guitars, speeded up guitars, mellotrons, and even a wine glass.

A sonically delicious texture that's second to none, and not just popular in discotheques (shame on you, Ray!).

Additional Resources

Tomorrow Never Knows (flash video by Melon)
Notes on "Tomorrow Never Knows" by Alan W. Pollack
Tomorrow Never Knows on Wikipedia

Aston Martin DBS in LA on Nov 13th

Carlos — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 14:51:14 GMT

Once in a while, I get snail mail from entities in California which still have my contact information. The worst is undoubtedly California's tax octopus, which greedily tries to keep its tentacles around individuals long after they've ceased to live there. But thankfully, more pleasant items do make their way across the country to my mailbox, and today I found a card from Los Angeles inviting me to preview the Aston Martin DBS at the local dealership. The DBS is best known for its faked appearance in the film Casino Royale, but the genuine article will be launched later this year and will be featured in the forthcoming Bond 22.

Aside from the confusingly ambiguous DBS name (which duplicates that of a late 60s model), I have mixed feelings about the visuals of this new Aston Martin. It seems to continue a tradition of incremental changes on top of Ian Callum's brilliant 1993 DB7 design, which guarantees a pleasant form but isn't exactly a risky or groundbreaking approach. Still, it's a supercar, and therefore much better looking and more exciting than most other vehicles on the road.

Since I'm 3000 miles away and can't go, via this post I'd like to transfer my invitation to any well-dressed readers in SoCal with good taste in cars. If you're not doing anything on November 13th at 6pm, it might not be a bad plan to pop over to the dealership to check out the DBS before it gets unveiled to the general public a few days later at the LA Auto Show. Follow the RSVP instructions below to confirm that they aren't overbooked and will let you into the event (if the text is illegible, click the image to enlarge).

Mad Men

Carlos — Sun, 07 Oct 2007 19:10:14 GMT

On July 19, AMC premiered Mad Men, a new drama series about the advertising industry in 1960s New York. The series was created, executive produced, and written by Matthew Weiner, former writer/producer of the Sopranos. If you live outside the USA or haven't seen Mad Men, you can read this quick summary as well as watch several clips on the official site. Ten or so episodes have aired so far, which constitute enough material for me to have formed a stable opinion about the series.

The Good

Mad Men's set designers have taken great care to faithfully reproduce New York in 1960. This is the most praiseworthy aspect of the series. Many TV attempts of this kind have had limited budgets and ambition, resulting in frequent disbelief due to lack of diversity and authenticity. The year 1960 is especially tricky to get right because it mixes elements associated with both the 50s and the 60s.

As would be expected given its main plotline, Mad Men is packed full of mid-century business suits and office interiors. But, going quite a bit beyond previous TV efforts, it also delivers a very natural range of supplementary locations and props, all thoroughly researched and authentic: leisurewear, sleepwear, underwear, office exteriors, overhead shots, neighborhoods, nightclubs, restaurants, subways, home interiors, and so on. Check out that lounge-tastic zebra stripe wallpaper!

Aside from Mad Men's visuals, there's another factor that helps keep your brain zoned into thinking that it's looking through a time machine at another era. The Mad Men cast doesn't include any megastars, and this lack of familiar faces and overriding presences also helps with the show's multiple storyline structure.

The Bad

During this past decade, the bar for television programming has been raised enormously, resulting in lofty expectations for both production values and storylines. Modern shows such as Lost and Prison Break have gigantic movie-like budgets and, in their better moments, do a good job of keeping the viewer entertained with exotic locales, interesting characters, and cliff-hanging situations.

Certainly, Mad Men has production values comparable to (or better than) any other modern TV program. But the key question is: does it bring anything to the table beyond its eye candy? If Mad Men had been a first-time effort from an unknown producer, would the critics be singing its praises? If Mad Men had been set in 2007 instead of 1960, would I be watching it, writing about it, or recommending it to anyone?

Unfortunately, no matter how much I wanted Mad Men to be historic and memorable on all counts, I couldn't delude myself. If it wasn't for the visuals and the producer's reputation, Mad Men would undoubtedly be getting critically slaughtered. It looks like the massive effort and time spent on the visuals took away from the time spent on the plots and characters, or perhaps the accuracy and hyper-realism of the production carried over into the script.

Put simply, the people and events in Mad Men are excessively normal, without any particularly memorable characteristics. Sure, there's abnormal amounts of drinking, smoking, and adultery, but those get repetitive very quickly, and the rest of the time you'll feel like you're watching scenes from your own workplace and personal relationships (including, unfortunately, the boring and slow parts).

A key requirement for television or film is that it should feature people, places, or situations that are different from (or more interesting than) the ones we encounter in day-to-day life. Mad Men does deliver exceptional places via its wardrobe and set design, but the exceptional people and situations are few and far between.

The Bottom Line

The 1960 visuals will grab you, but once the novelty has worn off, I fear that only retrostyle fanatics like myself or people reading this article will keep tuning in. Unfortunately, the average person will probably perceive Mad Men to be slow and uninteresting.

The show has been confirmed for a second season, so perhaps the plot and characters will benefit if the historical timeline is allowed to advance beyond 1960. Some of the better bits in Mad Men have revolved around characters getting an inkling of (and trying to uncomfortably adjust to) the massive cultural shifts that were bubbling to the surface as the sixties unfolded.

On balance, I'm glad that Mad Men exists, and I feel comfortable giving it one hour of my time per week based on the show's aesthetics and the occasional interesting subplot. I plan to stick with it in spite of any shortcomings, as long as its budget doesn't get cut and its visuals don't get repetitive. But, it's not a series that I expect to have popular appeal, or that I could recommend unconditionally outside the context of this site's stylistic philosopy. Borrowing a disclaimer from the advertising industry: your mileage might vary.

He Shot Her (It Felt Nothing Like A Kiss)

Carlos — Sun, 23 Sep 2007 16:35:15 GMT

Like the lyrical ambiguity of the 1962 Crystals song from which this post takes its title, it's difficult to know whether to laugh or cry at the unfolding Phil Spector trial. Unfortunately, any laughter is akin to the nervous joking and grinning that a person might resort to after being diagnosed with a terminal disease. It's the final acceptance of an unpleasant reality.

Regardless of my admiration for Spector's many achievements as a producer, there's no doubt that the guy is a total psycho. There's a fine line between colorful eccentricity and insanity, and in Spector's case that line was crossed a long time ago. He needs to be locked up and treated ASAP, either in a mental institution or a prison, before he inevitably causes more damage.

I fully understand that it's difficult for jurors to convict an individual when they're famous and sitting in front of you and the whole world is watching. It's also absolutely true that all evidence must be carefully considered before making a decision to take away a person's freedom. But in this case, the undecided jurors are completely missing the forest for the trees. Quite simply, there are two mutually exclusive scenarios being presented: one plausible, and the other fictitious beyond any reasonable doubt. All they need to do is pick the one that isn't preposterous.

What's more likely? That a person with a history of abusive behavior and chronic gun-waving would shoot Lana Clarkson by mistake (or in a struggle), or that Clarkson would, within minutes of meeting Spector, decide to pop over to his house and immediately commit suicide by shooting herself in the face with his gun?

The icing on the cake, of course, is Spector's own verbal admission to killing her on the night of the events. But, according to the defense, that confession was caused by prescription-drug withdrawals. That makes perfect sense. Doctors often tell patients, when prescribing painkillers and sedatives, that they should expect to confess a murder or two once the prescription runs out.

At a minimum, Spector is guilty of reckless behavior and involuntary manslaughter. However, it's looking more and more likely that he will either be set free, or get a mistrial, or get an appeal. It seemed impossible to top the O.J. verdict in terms of ridiculousness, but we appear to be on track for a new world record. Sadly, the United States continues firmly on its path toward Banana Republic status with a two-tiered legal system where your chances of getting away with breaking the law are proportional to how much money you have or who you know.

Perhaps the most important lesson learned from this and other celebrity trials is that, to paraphrase the Redskins song, we should take inspiration and enjoyment from people's achievements and ideas, but never make personal heroes out of anyone. Every individual is fallible and flawed, and I see no contradiction between thinking that Spector is a disaster as a human being while simultaneously loving his Wall of Sound or A Christmas Gift for You.

And so, if only for a few minutes, let's put the court case out of our minds, close our eyes, and imagine a happier time when Spector was at the peak of his musical powers, using his influence for creative purposes. We are at Gold Star Studios, Los Angeles. It's 1963 and Spector is producing one of his little symphonies for the kids (an apt description if ever there was one). Twenty-three takes have come and gone, and the track is taking shape under a provisional name. Three girls are ready to sing the backing vocals onto what will become one of Spector's greatest classics. Very quietly, let's sneak into the studio and listen to music history being made...

Seven Movie & TV Remixes (Part 4)

Carlos — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 14:35:21 GMT

Wrapping up from Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3, here's the final two items in this series:

Original Artist

Original Version

New Artist

New Version

Combining the rhythm section from Shifrin's composition for the Man From U.N.C.L.E. with Bert's Bossa Nova, Conte magically produced an instant classic, suave and evocative enough for both cult and mass consumption. But the extra twist to the story is that Conte's remix itself became a TV theme in 2001, when it was used as the soundtrack for a widely-run automobile advertisement with the tagline Do nothing. Sooner.

Original Artist

Original Version

New Artist

New Version

Derbyshire and Grainer

Dr. Who

Timelords

Doctorin' the Tardis

The original was massively avant-garde, with Delia and her pals making heavy use of electronic sounds quite a few years before the arrival of Mr. Moog and Mr. Perrey. But the late 80s situationist duo also deserve full credit for realizing the potential of the track, turning it into an instant chart-topper by fusing it with other pop-culture elements. All while taking the piss out of the entire music industry.