David Bowie
#81
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (1972)


#80
Hunky Dory (1971)

I'm clearing these two off the docket at the same time. My avoidance of them is a small partial reason for my long hiatus. I can say nothing objective about them, because they are sonically engraved into my brain tissue like super-spy microfilm.

Each time I listen to them I find something new, a different encoded message from a planet full of beautiful, freaky people who all want to have sex with me. These albums are a part of how I define myself as a human being, so, there you go.

You may or may not experience a similar reaction to these albums. I don't know anyone who doesn't like Bowie, though. I only know people who are either unfamiliar with his music or who love a different style of Bowie than me. Which is fine. I prefer the psychosexual starman. If you actively dislike Bowie, please, let me know. I am highly curious as to how someone with no love for music experiences life.

David Bowie is perhaps my favorite artist of all time, and I say "maybe" only because the Beatles exist. The clincher though is that I can't pretend to be "The Beatles", a group of four men. When I walk down the street, I can pretend to be David Bowie. I can pretend that my penis is ambidextrous, talks with a dry British accent, and we go on space adventures together. The Beatles at their best only make me remember to value those I love. Tie goes to space penis. And Ziggy is my favorite space penis album. Hunky Dory has my favorite songs.

I exhort you with all my will: listen to these albums twice, as soon as humanly possible. If you gave them a try in college, listen to them twice again. If you have heard them a good number of times and don't care for them, give them two more tries each. If you just got done listening to each album twice in a row in a marathon session unrelated to this blog post, pick up the record sleeve, slide out the album, put the vinyl back on the turntable, find the outside edge of side one, then gently put the hammer down. Everyone listen to them twice for me, then go about your business.

I will very rarely be this superlative in the future. If you already love these albums, I'm sorry for yelling at you, but sometimes you all need to be reminded where the real power is.

MIXPIX:
I gave up on linking to every single great one. Just go find the album you guys.

Ziggy:

One of the most indelible moments of my life thus far was putting on this song on headphones for the first time. I was 17 and on the millionth floor of an Osaka hotel. I felt like I was in Blade Runner.

Freak Out. Far Out. In Out.


Let all the children boogie.


Great video.

Hunky Dory:

Great video which I can't imbed. One of my all time favorite songs.

That's it. I give up. There are too many and blogger doesn't make this easy for me. Peace.


Next:
#79
Randy Newman
Sail Away (1972)

He's just singing about what he sees.

#82

George Harrison

All Things Must Pass (1970)

"Apple scruffs and some stuff about candy, and pigs and other obvious allegory because I am pretty inconsistent. Also resentment and Hindu is a good religion." -- George Harrison

I have a complicated system for deciding the best tracks to discuss for an album. When I hear a good song I put five stars in iTunes next to it.

Then I revisit these 5 star songs while I write the post. I know it is a bit wonky, but try to stay with me.

I want to bad mouth this album for a variety of reasons, but then I look at my iTunes and see the number of five star songs and am wholly chastened.

This is a good album. But I swear it gets more boring as I revisit it. But I keep revisiting it. I suppose you could call it death through familiarity. I really didn't want to do this review.

It feels like I am forcing myself to eat a bucket of oatmeal without sugar. I like oatmeal, but c'mon. A whole bucket?

This is a long fucking album. It was a triple album. Poor Georgie had labored under the crippling yoke and attendant international superstardom of the Lennon/McCartney team for nearly a decade, and Harrison had a terminal case of creative blue balls. But this bucket of an album has many chunks of undercooked oatmeal in it.

Make no mistake. I am a zealous Beatles apologist. I have that poster of the boys in headshot profile in black and white, and I use it as a holy blessing over the entryway of wherever I am living (except here in Koreasburg). But this album can at times be either a big, jangly, lifeless mess or a soulful outpouring of genuine expression of the human condition. It depends on the song and on my mood.

But I am overly familiar with this album for a reason. Oatmeal is good for you, and John Tesh says there is nothing better you can eat for breakfast, every single day. If you aren't familiar with this album, become so. Then you can let it sit in your brain banks like a bellyful of hot carbs on a cold day. You will be a better person for having it in your psyche.

MYKS:

There are enough good singles on this album to make your own, regular length mix of George Harrison,

but I am just gonna give you my faves. You should know most of these songs already.

Unintentional plagiarism of "He's So Fine" or not, this song gets me in a churchy feeling. In the good, holy way, not the dressing in semi-casual, fighting sleep in the pews, xenophobic, science hating way.

This one does the same thing. The guy knew how to be really unpretentious, inviting, and personal with his religion. He's a personal guidepost for me in that respect. What, a brother can't be sincere?

I just like this one. It's fun, jumpy, and good jangly instead of distracting jangly.

While his guitar gently shreds. The man could really play guitar. Unless Clapton is playing on this one. I'm not going to check. I don't care. This song just rocks socks.

Next:

#81

David Bowie
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders from Mars (1972)

There won't have to be much listening done on my part for this one. Personal Top 5 all time. I think I could actually sing the whole album to you, in sequence.

#83

Iggy and The Stooges

Raw Power (1973)

"NSFW" -- Iggy Pop, half naked on some shitty stage somewhere

Nobody does it better. Rock 'n Roll, I mean. Iggy hit the first heavy motherlode of elemental Rock, was the first to tap into the main vein of Roll ley lines. His sillhouette on the cover of this album is the epitome of rock sillhouettes. A writhing androgynous space shaman wracked with the, excuse me, Raw Power of the cosmos juice he had discovered.

A truly undersung explorer. For Christgau'ssakes, When Raw Power came out in 1973, Iggy and the Stooges had already released Fun House in 1970 and Iggy had a raging heroin addiction. 1970! I love the Stones but Jagger is Edison to Iggy's Nikola Tesla.

Of course, I never really got into him until Guitar Hero came out and I played "Search and Destroy" over and over and over again.

I was aware of Iggy, sure. Pop culture references sprinkled about my development. "Lust for Life". Some still photo from some tv show sometime. After Guitar Hero though, I sat down and really listened to Iggy and Stooges.

And I still could never really get all that into them, not in a personal way. I still can't.

It is really hard for me to sit down, strap on my headphones, and jam out to "Fun House" or "Death Trip" or "Penetration" or any of the other more grimey Stooges tracks without feeling like the biggest goddamned poseur. It's messy. Really messy. Another world messy. I am not outside far enough to appreciate this. I do not have enough problems with myself to fully understand the world espoused by Iggy and the Stooges.

I think of myself as a scientist, so I observe that world with curiousity and fascination, but I do not venture to Iggy's world often. It is a world spoken of in hushed tones and with deference amongst my team as we sit around the messroom table of the Stephen Dylan, my transdimensional cultural exploration ship, telling stories and planning our next escapade.

"So where did the Garciaphant finally send Dr. Profit when his commodification lazer backfired on him?" I ask, laughing at the rememberance of a recent adventure in the dark heart of the 60's.

My first mate, Brendan Granite, swordfighter extraordinaire, drops his smile. His eyepatch droops as his brow furrows.

"Calculations show he was transported ta th' Iggy Zone," he says somberly, in a thick Irish brogue. "To th' Iggy Zone."

A hush falls across the crew.

"Then there is no hope for him," I say. "He'll be devoured alive by street walking cheetahs, or at the very least incinerated by nuclear A-bowms."

Little Billy Infinite, ever the optimist, looks up at us hopefully with his immortal, childlike features.

"Maybe he caught a break and one of the little strangers made him their dog."

None of the team speak. A moment of silence punctuated only by a series of mournful beeps and clicks from Jehosaphat, who can't find a sarcastic quip in all his memory banks.

"Maybe he did Billy. Maybe he did."

And scene.

Summary: I love what Iggy represents, and I thus I love this music, but it is a very situational music. Every party into which you inject the Stooges suddenly seems waaaaay more apocalyptic than you would have intended. Dirty ashtrays and lives lost to heroin even though you don't know anyone who has ever done any heroin. Listen for science and for pleasure, but entirely a personal pleasure. I respect but keep my distance.

BUT! Here are some songs! You bet they are good!

MIX IT UP

This is the song from Guitar Hero. Put it on a mix? I dunno if I like your friends. Oh, ok, of course I like your friends, but it going to be hard to talk to or dance with them with this thing going on.

Actually, this one will probably be better for a mix. I have done it. But maybe only for Halloween.

I was all bummed at a party one time and this song came on and suddenly I thought we were all about to die horribly. I almost but not quite wrote a short story about it.

Great dirty rocking sex machines!

NEXT:

#82

George Harrison
All Things Must Pass (1970)

No video, but My Sweet Lord is good and I am not looking forward to reviewing this. This is such a long album, one with which I am quite familiar, yet not overly fond of. Oh well. Tomorrow!

Gonna give this another shot

Here I come again. I stopped because they blocked blogger at work and then my Ipod got erased and I couldn't listen to any of my music until I got a power adapter and knew I wouldn't fry my external harddrive on these infernal Korean outlets.

Now I have a power adapter for a little while and I moved my music onto the Windows side of my MacBook. Also, I'm gonna stop making excuses for not writing these things and just do it on Google Docs and copy/paste. Yes I know about proxies but they have proven unreliable.

OK! So! A lot of time has passed. I am a more fully-developed and austere human being than I was in February, but I think we shall find that the pop records on which I focus have not changed a single note in the intervening time.

BOOSH! The warm impermanence of personality coupled with the ironically permanent nature of cold digital media! Set to music! Yeah I did! Let's DO this!

#84

Harry Nilsson

Nilsson Schmilsson (1971)

Harry Nilsson got to party with the Beatles.  John Lennon loved him.  When asked which American songwriters they admired, John and Paul said Harry Nilsson.  It is easy to see the connection on Nilsson Schmilsson.  You cannot manufacture a finer pop machine than this album.

The only negative thing I can say about this album is it's lack of personality.  "Without You" gives you a sense of Nilsson as an individual artist rather than just a man with a fine voice, but the rest feels like a sunny afternoon in 1971.  Apart from "Without You", I do not get moved by the songs here.  There are really catchy, really great songs on this album that may move others, but listening to this album is like eating your favorite candy bar.  Delicious and emotionally reaffirming, but not substantially nourishing.

I love the album cover though.  "What's up guys?  Just smoking a pipe.  Oh, who's that?  That's motherfucking John Lennon asleep on my couch."

A treasure trove of situational songs on this album.  This album does wonders for filling out the back end when you are out of ideas.  Got like 10 minutes left at the end?  "Jump Into The Fire".  Goofy interlude between two somewhat heavy songs?  "Coconut".  Resonant emotional core of the entire mix?  "Without You".  Despite my lite critique about lack of personality above, there isn't a song I don't like on Nilsson Schmilsson.  It is brilliant.

MIX

"Without You"

The suicide scene in Rules of Attraction has tainted this song a bit culturally, but the song still makes my heart hurt.  Damn, Gina.

"Early In The Morning"

Bop along while you do your chores.  This is inoffensive, perfect music.  A glass of ice cold water, and it is sunny, and it is Sunday, and you just finished the only thing you had to do today.

"Coconut"

Welcome to your Mom's night out with her friends.  Welcome to what your parents used to listen to at the bar before you were born.  When was the last Pina Colada you had?  Never?

NEXT:

Iggy and The Stooges

Raw Power (1973)

No one beats Iggy and The Stooges on the quality/quantity rock ratio.  My rock and roll fantasies are based on Iggy and David Bowie.

#85

Wire

154 (1979)

Wire represents a period of minor upheaval in my musical tastes.  They are not responsible for all of it, but they are indicative of music that urged me beyond melodic pop and rock concerns and into less listener-friendly music.

This is not to say that Wire is not listener-friendly a great deal of the time.  Their periodic brain-fucking rockouts I would rank high amongst my favorites.  Their album Pink Flag (which is much higher on the Pitchfork countdown) is probably the most recent addition to my personal Top Ten Albums: lifetime achievement category.  It kicked out, oh, let's say Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.  I don't know, I don't actually have this list created.

I never got into 154 though, because it didn't immediately grab me upon first listening like Pink Flag and Chairs Missing did.  Upon diving fully into it, I find that 154 blends the continual expectations bucking of Chairs Missing with the pure punk rock industro-buzzsaw of Pink Flag while matching neither in terms of quality.

The noisy sections don't gel into anything meaningful, while the pop-oriented parts don't manage to subvert the style as much as the Wire likely wished them to.  It doesn't mean the poplike songs are bad by any means, but they don't quite accomplish the intended effect.  "Map Ref. 41 Degrees N 93 Degrees W" is a great song, but just look at that title.  Wire, man, you guys are trying to hard.  You wrote a great pop song, deal with it.

Super-solid album, would listen again, but not for quite some time.  The singles here will make appearances though.  "Map Ref etc." has been on my heavy rotation for months.

MXYZPTLYK

"Should Have Known Better"

This song is not on the goddamn internet.  It is awesome.  Find it.  Fuck you internet.

"The 15th"

There is a hypnotizing arrogance and fuck it all quality to Wire.  I think it is because of Punk.  If the music of Wire was represented as an object in reality, they would be a monolith that you see waaaay out in a field and when you hike over to look at it, it spits on you.

"Map Ref. 41 Degrees N 93 Degrees W"

I talked about this one above, and posted it in the Joni Mitchell entry previously.  Here it is again, being awesome as shit.

NEXT

Harry Nilsson

Schmilsson (1971)

This is one of those old classics that stands the test of time.  Listen to this song again,  for the first time.

#86

Joni Mitchell

Blue (1971) 

Wow, hey, hello internet.  Not going to make excuses:  I am an unpaid, undirected aspiring writer with a job and a life.  

I choose to blame indifference towards this album for my long absence.  Yeah.  That's it.  Nothing to do with anything else.

So, Joni Mitchell, what's up?  Pretty girl, nerdy art chick, brilliant songwriter.  Quiet places and songs that seem to be alive, extracted surgically without anesthesia from the flesh of Mid-Century America, and placed in formaldehyde in a bottle marked Baby Boomers (young adulthood).  There is a similarly marked bottle right next to it full of Neil Young songs.

Post-2008, it feels almost quaint to reminisce about the 60s and 70s: the calcifying Cold War, the moon landing, Woodstock, Vietnam, all stuck in the minds of my generation as montages from war movies, period dramas about families falling apart, nostalgic orgasms about HOW AMAZING it all was.  The opening credits of Quantum Leap do a pretty good job of summing it up.

This is how I decide an influential album: whether it makes me think of the opening credits 

of Quantum Leap or not.

But there is a lingering whiff of idealism and naiveté, despite the quality of the songs, that makes

this album a snoozer at times. For all of this album's charms, Joni doesn't say much

other than slice o' life stuff, which wouldn't be a problem except for the patina of self-righteousness

that comes out in the lifestyle she espouses in her lyrics. Part of this is being twentysomething,

I would imagine, but combine this with the knowledge of future Baby Boomer selflove in the 80s

and 90s, and I just can't care.

My twentysomething, ideallovesearching self is madly in love with 1971 Joni Mitchell though.

As an album, yawn and slightly yick, but out of context the singles are fantastic. I want to say to 

clarify, I love this music, but my brain doesn't love Baby Boomers, so until now I haven't really

listened to it since I was 19.

MIX SINGLES 

California

This is what I'm talking about. There is maybe no more tightly dense summation of how I view the world of my parents 

youth than this song.  Plus it is fun and catchy.

Carey

Back when I first began to listen to this album at 19ish, my roommate said this song was the best on the album, and I was like "Nuhuh". I have come 

to agree with him though. It is about going out with an awesome person and has no politics or dated culture lying all over it like clean white linen and

fancy french cologne.

NEXT

#85

Wire

154 (1979)

This is sweet because I love this band but haven't listened much to this album. Sweet. Don't suck, 154. This song doesn't suck at all. Chorus!