Screedom rock

Some people think The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway was the apotheosis of early Genesis, while others point to its convoluted concept and lack of self-editing as evidence of mid-'70s prog bloat. Everybody's right, of course. But I especially love the humble little masterpieces hiding in its corners. Like this workout for the outer reaches of Tony Banks's technique. Coupled with a slinky/gawky 9/8 groove, you've got a strange little specimen from an unexplored world.

Genesis — Riding The Scree

Song for my baby

I'm a week into fatherhood, and I only feel slightly less disembodied than I did the moment it became real (last Monday, for those keeping score at home). It's a dizzying transition, and I'm amazed at how naturally this whole new set of reflexes kicks in. Sometimes, it's so easy to just be guided by what we're evolved to do. Like dig for baby theme songs based simply on the kid's name! In my case, there's a rich heritage of tracks, some of which I've already covered, not knowing there'd be new meaning attached someday. Here's one that feels like it hits all the right notes. And it doesn't hurt that it feels like a kind of lullaby. I'm not sure why so many Emily songs are about sad, lonely, or lost girls, but those melancholy notes seem a lot more effervescent when accompanied by the sea breezes that Cale has going here.

John Cale — Emily

On the town

You close out the workweek, head home, put on your velour shirt with the giant collar, comb your hair in front of the mirror, and commence to hit the town with your buddies. Who would've guessed that mere hours later you'd be passed out in the back of an El Camino with a slowly deflating inflatable date and wearing nothing but a pair of platform shoes and Gene Simmons makeup? Shouldn't have gotten yourself warmed up to the sound of this tune.

Olli Heikkila Orchestra - Aila/Valamo/Tammerkosken Sillalla

A wallet from a careless man

 

Can't resist one more from the Mael Bros. Here's a tune from their classic Kimono My House, which is maybe the best place to start in their daunting and varied discog. The usual lyrical saltiness aside, this is one with universal appeal — that feeling when you find a wallet on the street and decide that the poor sap is actually better off bankrolling your subsequent spending spree. If fist-pumping Glam is about anything, triumphant liberation from guilt may just be it.

Sparks - Lost And Found

Instrumental illness

Sticking with instrumental mayhem and blowing the dust off the vinyl crates sitting in forgotten basement corners, we come to The Viola Crayola. I'll always have a soft spot for the menacing rock side of '70s fusion. In other words, you keep those drums jazzy and step on that fuzz pedal, and I'll listen to what you have to tell me.

The Viola Crayola - The Last One On Earth

Free and easy

Forget Memorial Day, people. Summertime doesn't begin with a calendar date. It starts when someone with the above sunglasses enters the stage, counts off the band, and takes control of the air with the flute of interstellar mellow cruising. I love the little pillow fight between bass and guitar at 3:40 that resolves into a goofy flute and voice reconciliation a mere minute and a half later. Truly a reminder that we can all get along with a bit of effort.

The Chris Hinze Combination - Easy Answering

You f--- up my censor

Maybe I'm a little immature, but 5 years after hearing this, it still cracks me up. Or maybe there's just something timeless about demonstrating the mind's natural dirtiness via pretend-censoring the squeaky-cleanest things. Either way, it reaffirms the power of an overarching authorial voice and its godlike ability to bend any text to its will.

John Denver- Annie's Song (WFMU edit)

Nowhere to be

This has got to be one of my favorite song titles. I love either image it suggests. If it's planes, what a beautiful image as they lift into the air. If it's narrow rushes of water, what a sweet assault. Motors hum, and the drums start unruly but eventually fall in line. Eno sings something mostly incomprehensible, yet profound-sounding, and we're all in watery flight to some amazing place.

Brian Eno - Here Come The Warm Jets

Pointer brothers

Smooth '70s soul is glorious for so many reasons, not least of which is its ability to soar into the clouds while fueled by the most embittered lyrics. It seems Choice Four never really had their day in the sun, but for those who heard them, they nail the aesthetic spot on. (You can get their fantasmic debut here.) This tune feels awfully similar to the more celebrated "Backstabbers," but if you're making an airplane mix, it's a great one to have on as you're lifting into those clouds.

Choice Four - The Finger Pointers (Part 1)

Cosmic lovesick

Bands that live out in the cosmos tend to sound weird when they come down to earth. Here's a band of Italian psych/prog/space rockers who apparently also liked to try their hand at emotional concerns. The singer is at the wrong end of the vocal gracefulness spectrum, but there's a certain desperation that's sort of appealing. As for the music, I guess garages in space are similar to the ones down here. It's strange how much this sounds like '90s indie rock.

Sensations' Fix - Do You Love Me

I saw you staring out in space

Well, I guess this wouldn't be a proper music blog if I didn't pay a little tribute to Alex Chilton right about now. As far as Big Star goes, I'm in the camp that thinks Sister Lovers is their masterpiece, if only for the fact that it's kinda really hard to turn bitterness and disappointment into art that resonates without it feeling like audio rubbernecking.

This is the kind of song you put on mixtapes to make girls aware of your wounded depths. You might even think enough of it to make it the lead-off track, proudly offering your damage as a key romantic selling point. I'm mean...you know...that's what I'm told. It still sounds like a beautiful collapse.

And, because everything comes at me in the wrong order, here's a cover version that I actually heard before the original. A more stately reading somehow yields a different kind of ghostliness. The strings amplify the song's big breaking heart.

Big Star - Kangaroo
This Mortal Coil - Kangaroo

Theme Week - Glam, no Bowie (2/5)

If T. Rex was a shooting star, Brett Smiley was the Challenger. His career may have burst into flames before he got out of the atmosphere, but as disasters go, at least this one was fabulous. Under different circumstances, this Brett would have ruled heaven and earth.

Brett Smiley - Space Ace

A long exhale

You know when a mess becomes so complex that it's actually kinda liberating? That is the state of things at my work right about now. The chaos would be almost pleasing if it wasn't for the acceleration. Luckily, here's Shuggie giving us a speed to shift down to. Why do early drum machines remind me of chemistry sets?

Shuggie Otis - Aht Uh Mi Hed

Knock the little jockeys off the rich people's lawns

Well now I've got Zappa on the brain. So here's some more for yez. This one comes from the 'commercial' period, when Frank enlisted top flight musicians to play raunchy rock with fancy zigzags. This one's actually a little somber, obliquely riffing on the ebb of the civil rights tide in the mid-'70s, and with barely a hint of smirk or snark. Props to that, but really this track is all about the gosel funk of Sir George Duke's piano.

Frank Zappa - Uncle Remus

You are leaving

Hearing this for the first time, I thought it had to have been written for burlesque shows. From the teasing vox and woozy horns, you'd never suspect that the song is all heartache and melodrama - "come back soon, my breath is going away." Especially if you don't speak Spanish. As much as I love the groove, that disconnect is actually my favorite thing about this song. That and the weird sourness in the intro.

Jeanette - Porque Te Vas

I like you mostly late at night

What is it about Fridays that gets me all prog and bothered? This is a real tender one - fragile, twisted, and very beautiful. No matter how short my attention span, I'm always happy to sit back and let it unfold. The music's drama is actually subtle. And Wyatt's voice is uniquely poignant. I love the end section, where the synthesizers swim around like the figures on the album cover, as he lets his voice coo in a combination of emotions I have yet to give a name to. I recommend you give it a few good listens this weekend. And also grab Rock Bottom for your record collection. It's kind of essential, y'know.

Robert Wyatt - Sea Song

Passport party time

From what I understand, Klaus Doldinger is the Miles Davis of Germany. His Passport group has been a stopping point for German jazzers since the early '70s. As far as the Miles comparison goes, he's definitely stuck to the fusion period; the Passport albums I've heard play like Cliff's Notes for the genre, a fair share of it deliciously hokey.

Doldinger clearly brought his passport to the studio for this jam, because it's 100% funky USA 1974. There needs to be a scene in a future movie where all the passengers in the terminal are grooving to this on their way to the baggage claim. As for the album cover, I have no explanation.

Passport - Rockport

Hot mishigoss

What red-blooded American can watch The Taking of Pelham One Two Three and not be totally smitten? Seeing it again recently, I was struck by how essential the music is to the movie's character - the audio equivalent of Walter Matthau's gotcha face in the closing shot (which, in my humble opinion, should be placed on the dollar bill). Groovy, jittery, and a little skronky, it can soundtrack my subway ride any time.

Unfortunately, I also saw the trailer for the forthcoming remake, the main ambition of which is seemingly to prove that it's possible to suck the soul out of just about anything. All the more reason to cherish the awesomeness of Mr. Shire.

David Shire - End Title