Miles Davis, Bitches Brew
As with another near-fathomless work of art, no apostrophe.
Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Welcome to the Pleasuredome
The title track? Here it is. All 13:41 of trippy, shape-shifting backbeat glory.
“Pickett’s Charge” by ellen cherry; crankie by Katherine Fahey
Silhouettes and kinetic shadow art and more in partnership with a great song.
Tricky, False Idols
The Yardbirds, “I’m Not Talking”
Having a Rave Up with Mose Allison!
The Doors, “Riders on the Storm”
Ray Manzarek, keyboard player for The Doors, died today at 74.
I caught the second wave of The Doors. I’d been too young to see them on anything other than maybe The Ed Sullivan Show during their first flowering. So, at the dawn of what has become the Classic Rock movement, my college floormates and I used to listen to The Doors, mainly the 2-LP compilation Weird Scenes Inside the Gold Mine but sometimes L.A. Woman or their eponymous debut or Morrison Hotel, all sitting on the floor, a red lightbulb over the sink, drinking beer and half-laughing, half-marveling at the lyrics, attitude and strangeness of the band and its frontman.
And Manzarek’s keyboards sometimes provided the cushion for the attitude and strangeness and sometimes drove it. I don’t know much about the man besides what I’ve seen in a few interviews. He struck me as a well-spoken sort who saw no benefit in tearing down or diminishing the band that made his name a household word. At least in some households.
Alanis Morissette, “You Oughta Know”
Shelley Duvall, in Annie Hall, tells Woody Allen’s Alvy Singer, “Sex with you is really a Kafka-esque experience.”
After hearing this song (long my favorite Alanis), I thought, “Sex with Alanis Morissette must really be a Medea-esque experience.”
My favorite quatrain:
“And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me
You’d hold me until you died
‘Til you died, but you’re still alive!”
Hey, Yahoo! You might not be aware of this, but a lot of Tumblrs used to to be Stumblers™. And we all left StumbleUpon™ because it got bought out by eBay and turned into some clickthrough SPAMtastic piece of shit.
Anyhoo, don’t make me change platforms again, OK? Because, really, I’m tired of building up hundreds, if not thousands, of postings and then having to move somewhere else because the buyer’s desire to “monetize” the “content stream” became too “fucked up.”
Your principal website sucks ass, Yahoo! And I don’t really know who uses it. But, hey, as long as you keep your synergies off my Eggo, I’m OK with your crazy-ass, bubble-driven, no-ROI investment in Tumblr.
A mockup of the Deep Throat poster from the upcoming Linda Lovelace biopic Lovelace, starring Amanda Seyfried and featuring an interesting cast, from Hank Azaria and Eric Roberts to Sharon Stone and Juno Temple.
Various Artists, 6 Days on the Road/6 Trucker Stars
Once available, according to the surviving label, for $1.77, courtesy of Interstate Record Dist. And featuring such classic songs as “Six Days on the Road” and “Big Wheels Sing for Me.”
Stomu Yamashta’s Go, Go Live from Paris
This all-star (Yamashta, Steve Winwood, Michael Shrieve, Klaus Schulze, Al Di Meola) date’s fusion goodness aside, the sleeve for Virgin’s catalog is an all-star roster of its own from Traffic’s Low Spark of High Heeled Boys through Bob Marley and The Wailers’ Catch a Fire, Brian Eno’s Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy, Grace Jones’ Portfolio, Sparks’ Kimono My House and the Wild Tchoupitoulas’ eponymous debut. Not to mention John Cale, Paco de Lucia, Robert Palmer, Jimmy Cliff and John Martyn.
An embarrassment of riches, Simon Schama once noted, about something else entirely.
10cc, “Old Wild Men”
An elegiac number for the boys of rock-and-roll as they age.
10cc, “Headline Hustler”
Closing side one of their debut album, this rowser and its view of exploitative media predates Don Henley’s “Dirty Laundry” by just under a decade.
Their debut, opening with “Johnny Don’t Do It,” a parody of ’50s and ‘60 “teen death” songs, followed by “Sand in My Face,” a plea to “Mr. Atlas won’t you bring her on back to me” that folds in a Beach Boys-pastiche of a middle section.
Smart and clever pop.