This weekend I will see KISS in concert for the first (and almost certainly last) time. 2018 marks the beginning of their “End of the Road” tour, which will see the longtime rockers/sell-outs trekking across the world and gracing their fans with 40-year-old rock songs in what will supposedly be their last tour ever. To say that there’s any kind of wish fulfillment in seeing this band live would be a bit generous, considering I’ve always had a bit of a love/hate relationship with KISS. And I’m not sure there’s any better example of this love/hate relationship than 1977’s Love Gun, arguably the last “classic” KISS album. Continue reading
Is Rage Against The Machine any good? This is a question I’ve often asked myself ever since listening to them as a mid-‘oos high schooler. The answer then seemed to be “yes”, though it may have been partly because they were a fun band to groove along to when I was first learning to play drums. However, they seemed much less good during the late ’00s/early ’10s of my college years, which may have been due to my budding indie rock snobbery. Meanwhile, they’ve sounded pretty darn good to my ears the last two years. Which is to say, how good this band sounds may all be correlated to the political climate of the time. Continue reading
This year has marked not only the 30th anniversary of Sub Pop Records, but also the 30th anniversary of this seminal debut release by one of the label’s signature bands. So it seemed like ample time to talk about Superfuzz Bigmuff, considering the venerable Seattle record label is celebrating it’s anniversary in a big ‘ol free concert in theirs (and my) hometown this weekend, which Mudhoney will be performing at. Now, I know I am kinda fudging the prerequisites of “Classic Album Tuesdays” by writing about an EP. But considering Superfuzz has been re-released multiple times over the years in extended versions that reach album length, it seemed ok. Especially when it seems as good a representation as any of the sludgy, energetic records that Sub Pop first made its name on. Continue reading
When given a chance to comment on Parachutes in 2006, Coldplay frontman Chris Martin said “We know that’s terrible music, and we always try to think about what we can do next.” Nonetheless, two years later I still made it my first C.A.T. (and one of the few any of us would do on an album from the 21st Century). Three years after that, a spambot commented on that post “I am not sure where you’re getting your information, but great topic. I needs to spend some time learning much more or understanding more. Thanks for great info I was looking for this information for my mission.” Perhaps I can help.
Often we look back to our adolescent years and cringe at the music we once deemed “cool”. As we age so do our tastes in music. What’s weird for me is all my favorite bands in high school were obscure ‘60s groups. The Small Faces, The Move, Ten Years After. Those were the house bands on my iPod. Though if I had to pick one band that most defined my tastes as a moody, long-haired eighteen-year-old it would have to be Traffic. What drove me to listen to all of Traffic’s discography non-stop from 2006-2008? Why did it mean so much to me? I have no idea, but I can try to figure it out.
First off, I discovered one of my favorite bands in high school by way of one of my favorite bands in junior high, Cream. After Cream dissolved in 1969, insane drummer Ginger Baker and Eric “God” Clapton formed the supergroup Blind Faith. This is where I discovered the lead singer of Blind Faith, a gangly, English, 21-year-old with the voice of a Motown soul singer. I am of course referring to Steve “Higher Love” Winwood.
I enjoyed the Blind Faith record but what really caught my ear was Winwood. His ability as a multi-instrumentalist, singer and songwriter separated him from your average British Invader. His talents were more jazz inspired and few could match his ability to belt out the blues. I was trying to think of who Winwood reminded me of and I think I’ve made up my mind. Steve Winwood is like the white Ray Charles… If Ray Charles wrote songs about gypsies and eagles.
So I put on my time helmet, traveled back to 1967 and fell in love with Winwood and his most notable group, Traffic. Their debut record Mr. Fantasy is a dizzying mishmash of psychedelia, blues, and middle eastern folk. It’s out there and doesn’t always work but when it does it’s fantastic. It was an important album in my life and helped prepare me for today’s album in question.
The self-titled Traffic was released in 1968 and featured a far less psychedelic yet far more accessible batch of songs. Much like the first Traffic album the track listing is evenly divided between guitarist/lead vocalist Dave Mason’s songs and drummer Jim Capaldi and other lead vocalist Steve Winwood’s songs. While Capaldi and Winwood trend more jazz, Mason is a tried-and-true pop songwriter. His most notable contribution being “Feelin’ Alright?” which would go on to be the signature song of Joe Cocker.
If Steve Winwood is underrated then Dave Mason is under-underrated. An accomplished songwriter, Mason’s greatness has always been overshadowed by his proximity to the greatness of others. Such greatness includes; playing 12 string acoustic guitar on Jimi Hendrix’s “All Along the Watchtower”, singing backup vocals on “Crosstown Traffic”, playing the Shenai on the Stone’s “Street Fighting Man” and Mellotron on “Factory Girl”. He was almost in Derek & the Dominos, played in the mid-90s version of Fleetwood Mac and even sang a duet with Michael Jackson in 1980. But how many people know his name? Not enough.
Jim Capaldi is another gem in the rough. Playing a variety of percussion instruments in addition to singing and drumming duties, Capaldi was the driving force of the band alongside Winwood. The only other member to play in every version of the ever-shuffling band, Capaldi was probably the best collaborator Winwood ever had.
Chris Wood rounds out the quartet on sax and flute and helped to distinguish the band’s unique jazz and folk sound. Much like Jon Lord made Deep Purple unique for playing the organ in a hard rock band, or Rob Lind playing sax in garage band the Sonics, Chris Wood provided this psychedelic blues outfit another dimension absent from the music of their contemporaries.
But the songs are what make it for me. “Pearly Queen” is like a long-lost Cream song, “Don’t Be Sad” is a soulful sing-a-long that wouldn’t feel out of place in Levon Helm and the Band’s catalog. “Who Knows What Tomorrow Bring” is hella cool. “Feelin’ Alright?” is iconic. The back half of the album brings the folk and the funk. I was amazed how easy it was to fall back into this record.
Why did this band, this album speak to me? I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I like it. It doesn’t seem to trend with most of my musical tastes. It’s an outlier, an enigma. Maybe it’s just good. Whatever the reason it was my first “Classic Album Tuesday” and I’m proud of it.
Favorite Tracks: “Don’t Be Sad,” “No Time to Live,” “Pearly Queen”
At the moment, I’m using my 30-year-old record player to listen to a vinyl copy of Moby Grape’s 50-year-old debut, an album I first listened to on mp3s downloaded from the song-sharing app Limewire. There have been many technological advances that have changed the way we listen to music (namely streaming) in the past 10 years, but this snapshot of my current listening habits is not a great example of that. Regardless, as we take a look back at 10 years of Mildly Pleased this week, we’ll take this particular Tuesday to look back at one of our longest-running features – Top Ten Thursdays. And we’ll do it by revisiting the first albums each of us ever christened classics back in 2008. Continue reading
Today marks the fiftieth anniversary of White Light/White Heat. Like to the day. It was released EXACTLY fifty years ago TODAY. Just want that to sink in. Now onto this week’s “Classic Album Tuesday”.
I got into The Velvet Underground when I was in college and have vivid memories of how the Velvet’s consumed my life for the better half of a year. It started during a “Class 3 Killstorm” which is an extreme way of saying it was during winter when it was snowy. Cooped up inside, I paged through my Rolling Stone 500 Greatest Albums magazine and decided it was time to go underground.