Don Cherry - Mu (1969)

Various jazz musicians such as Don Cherry and Ed Blackwell just absolutely freak out on this freak show. Cherry is wailing on that trumpet and that piano while Ed Blackwell switches between legit player nonsense and subdued polyrhythmic games. This whole album reminds me of Sun Ra, in that it's really fucking weird, but in a way that seems like it probably makes perfect sense to someone. However, that someone is not me. I am but a mere white man who cannot jump.

This rip is divided up into several tracks, which is nice because having 40 minutes songs is annoying.

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Quicksilver Messenger Service - Quicksilver Messenger Service (1968)

Oh god, the pride of man, broken in the dust again.

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International Harvester - Sov Gott Rose-Marie (1969)

This record starts out with an ominous theme stated amongst bird songs. Unlike much of the psychedelia of this era, the myth of a flower-coated noble savage does not exist here. Similarly, progress and refinement are rejected, and the dark side of nature is embraced.

A droning version of song structure is applied throughout and creates a hypnotic effect. A theme is repeated until it reaches atmospheric saturation and it begins to tickle ritualistic impulses. These are rich melodies filled with just the right amount of whimsical trippiness to mold your imagination into a beautiful, Stravinskian pagan scene.

And don't think for a second that just because there's a clarinet on one of the tracks that this is useless music dressed up with surface level "interestingness." Bizarre instrumentation and sound effects supplement textures and structures perfectly capable of standing on their own.

I would hesitate to draw too solid of a line between this release and the Norwegian black metal scene of the early 90s, but I will say that Scandinavians writing droney, minimalistic music that lashes out against modern civilization is one of my favorite things.

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This review originally appeared in Jettison Quarterly.

Duke Ellington, Charles Mingus & Max Roach - Money Jungle (1962)

Recently, I've been making an effort to control the magnitude of the media consumption in my life by tying up loose ends. This means I've been finishing books, finishing series, and plowing through archives of unlistened-to music. I finished Twin Peaks & Ken Burns' Jazz in the last week. While that Ken Burns film is pretty annoying in a lot of ways, there is some excellent material in there, like this little gem which you may have seen if you are my friend on social networking behemoths Twitter & Facebook: When presented with the Medal of Freedom by President Richard Nixon, Ellington kissed Nixon four times. When the president asked why, Duke replied "one for each cheek."

Anyway, Money Jungle is an old favorite of mine. This recording is weird in a way that almost seems aggressive, but actually quickly settles into a feeling of "oh actually these guys are just way the fuck smarter than me." Listening to this thing is throwing off my internal equilibrium and I'm reeling around in my chair. Or maybe it's just weird allergy-related sinus pressure.

On the title track, Duke's piano trills and Mingus's bizarre bass slides and Roach's surprisingly hard-hitting drumming are legitimately unlike anything that I've ever heard. This is kind of like a Sun Ra record in that it exists entirely in its own musical paradigm. The theme to Wig Wise actually reminds me a lot of Thelonious Monk, with it's slightly off-kilter pacing and almost dissonant melody, with a playful-sounding resolution to the phrase.

I've been meaning to really dig into Duke's discography for awhile, and I'm gonna do that as soon as I've caught up on my "to listen to" folder. Life goals, man. Life goals.

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The Zombies - The Lost Album (1969)

"I'll Call You Mine" is my favorite Zombies song. "Walking in the Sun" is also up there. It sounds like some bossa nova ass shit with the mournful brass playing somber melodies. So beautiful. "I Could Spend the Day" is quite a bit bluesier & heavier than standard Zombies fare, which actually works out really well in this case. And a bit more grit in Colin Blunstone's breathy voice is a welcome addition, if only to hear what it sounds like.

There is also a cool hokey "live" track with weird applause after each vocal part. Reminds me of Type O Negative's Origin of the Feces.

Fuck, I think "I'll Call You Mine" might actually be my favorite song. So what you should do is listen to these songs and feel extreme envy for The Zombies' song-writing brilliance and also the tone of Colin Blunstone's voice. Then, you can feel a bit better about yourself because some of these tracks are really weak.

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Note: It is my duty to recommend these videos on insulin resistance and metabolism. As someone who thinks about nutrition a lot, these have been impossibly valuable to me. So far I've watched twice to try to absorb everything, and I'll probably give another go 'round soon.

Antonio Carlos Jobim - Wave (1967)

This is music that my mom likes. About once a month, she talks to me about being interested in new music, but she mostly sticks to her Putumayo CDs. However, I've managed to get her a few bossa nova albums that she plays regularly, and that is something that I feel good about. This is the least I can do for this strong woman who I love.

Click on that *Brazil tag to see how I feel about the bossa nova melody. My god, that shit is so beautiful! Most of these tracks are instrumental, with the melodies carried by wind instruments or piano. I wish the guitars were mixed a little bit louder so I could better hear the chord voicings. Lots of ii-Vs; that minor seven chord really just speaks to me and only me. You could never understand. No one has ever felt like this before. Perfect for getting lost in feelings that are being had for the first time ever in the history of the human race.

The "bum bum" in Lamento is fucking great. I feel it vibrate down the entire length of my okapi tongue.

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Skip Spence - Oar (1969)

There are a few records that exist entirely in their own universe. Although they can be placed in the context of some sort of musical movement, they are truly unique and offer an insight into the mind of an alien. Oar is one of these records. (I've talked about similar concepts in my discussions of Sun Ra's works.)

It's hard for me to write about this, as this music exists in a world completely outside of my own experiences. Listening to it turns me into a reality tourist briefly shedding my overanalytical science perception in favor of a much looser existence based upon floating in melting martian ice caps. Layered vocal tracks, open strings, and reverb create an emergent phenomena that absolutely must be experienced. Dangerous, damaging psychedelia that is orders of magnitude trippier than even the most fuzzed out of all guitar solos.

And I can't help but compare the vocals on "Diana" to US Maple. Oops. Oh and motherfucker was in Moby Grape too. Remember that shit from back in the day?

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Marva Whitney - It's My Thing (1969)

I've already written about this record for trend-setting, paradigm-shattering web periodical Jettison Quarterly, but I really want to share it with my Primitive People. As such, here is the text that appeared in Jettison coupled with that mediafirewater.

James Brown not only had the luxury of being a complete godhead genius, he also had the luxury of being an astute talent scout, thus ensuring that he was always surrounded by the very best of the best. In this case, we’re talking about back-up singer Marva Whitney.

On this record, the ol’ J. Brown penned a bunch of tunes, and the ol’ M. Whitney took over lead vocal duties. At this point, Brown had already filtered gospel and soul through the twisted, boiling tubes and sieves of his brain in order to isolate the most essential elements. What remained was a deceptively simple structure of a few seventh chords, syncopated snare hits, and tight horn accents. When painted onto an aural canvas, these components became the quintessence of “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts”, as microcosms of human experience are isolated and implied recombinations open up new possibilities of existence.

A lot of these songs barely have vocal melodies, as Whitney is given free rein to improvise and embellish loosely over the minimalist grooves. Her belting, brassy voice soars unremittingly over the dancing worlds of mortals, while the band grounds the whole experience by tapping into rhythmic senses far beyond conscious control.

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Eric Dolphy - Fire Waltz (1961)

Eric Dolphy is one of my favorite jazz players, as he fluidly balanced the atonal avant-garde jazz of the 60s with the flying chordal improvisation of bop. He follows chords in fleeting flurries of notes that are sometimes quick, dissonant trills and other times smooth melodic arcs. This is one of the more delightful games of expectation vs. reality, as Dolphy clearly always knows exactly what he's doing. Where is his melody going next? There is a nice overall logic to how far out there and how regularly he travels before returning to his harmonic base.

On "Bee Waltz," which has a nice two part chord progression, Dolphy brings out the bass clarinet, and opens with a variety of bubbling dissonances before settling into a rapidfire melodic arc following the quick ii-V chord changes. Observing his choice of melody or dissonance over the two parts of the harmonic structure of the tune is fascinating. He tends to favor melody over the ii-V part for most of his solo, and settles between "free" wailing and modal gymnastics for the first part of the progression. Really really really stimulating, which is good for me since I crave stimulation.

Also, funny that this is called "Fire Waltz" as Dolphy's playing is, to me, quite airy, blue and wet. Sort of an elemental opposite, I guess (terrible, terrible cards btw). Uh, who wants to play Magic I still have some decks.

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João Gilberto - João Gilberto (1961)

I've been in kind of a "chord progression" mood recently, which means lots of Bossa Nova has been clogging up my ear canals. I've been learning quite a bit about extended chords and, as such, I've been working on creating chord melodies through voice leading. However, putting theory into practice is a different story altogether. As much as I kind of understand all of this wonderful crazy beautiful bullshit, I'm still terrible at it.

It's good for me to listen to real dudes like João Gilberto and think "someday I suppose" about my own musical abilities. It's also good for me to try to focus my raging jealousy of João's brain wrinkles into concerted efforts to add more wrinkles to my own brain. But really, the snug green tones of this record warm even my cold soul, and I click for it every time I need a thaw.

"A Primeira Vez" tickles the minimalist you all know that I am. With just a guitar and voice, it is very easy to hear the chord melodies that I'm talking about. Notice the way that the guitar playfully dances around under the somewhat somber, drawn out melody. This juxtaposition of subtle sadness with ostensibly bouncy and happy chording short circuits my analytical nature with tepid saltwater and a I float away in a logic deprivation tank.

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I will be on tour with Weekend Nachos for the next two weeks, so no updates until I come back. If you live east of Chicago, check the dates and enjoy a punishing audiovisual experience. Also I'm looking to win new friends and influence them, so e-mail me todd.nief at gmail.com if you're coming to any of the gigs and you want to talk about records most civilians don't care about.

Beach Boys Collection

So, I mostly thought that it was impossible to offend me, but, the other day, I realized that I am offended by several of the songs on the pre-Today Beach Boys albums. I had a craving for Custom Machine, but I decided, in truly non-Western fashion, to take in all of Little Deuce Coupe and delay my own gratification. Several times, my mouth dropped slightly open, and my neck cocked suddenly: I was offended.

So, what I did was take all of the best songs from those albums and put them in one spot, because, believe you me, the songs here are fucking transcendental.

Structuring is similar to that described in my recent Buddy Holly post, in that extended chord progressions are used to build up to a specific point ("Surfin' USA!") while contemporary verse/chorus arrangements are largely absent. These songs are also super-fucking short, which rules, because I don't always want to hear the half-time chorus/vocal histrionics at the end of a song (sometimes I do want to hear this).

Pick out some voice-leading harmonies! Shut Down and Catch a Wave both have some keen-ass contrary motion, which makes me wonder if the Boys were thinking in terms of chord inversions or some weird-ass sibling mind-meld counterpoint shit, being very neglectuful of equal temperament, etc. Either way, what we end up with is a viscous musical texture pulling at the edges of reality, with the shockingly banal lyrics and more apparent-in-hindsight melancholy only adding to the surreality of the experience. The contrast between the basic rock pentatonic scale framework and the lushness of the vocal melodies (see also: The Beatles, Motown) is sometimes more appealing to me than the more cohesive blending of instruments and vocals found on Pet Sounds and later works.

Also, check out the lyrics to Be True to your School. Whoa!

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PS: Can any more knowledgable bloggers explain why the hard returns in my posts keep getting all fucked up? I can't make sense of this!

The Four Tops - Reach Out (1967)

This is what I think about when I write songs. If you ever hear one of my songs and think "man this is totally a Funk Brothers idea," that's because it is. Joaquin posted a cool video the other day of Ne-Yo, Smokey Robinson & Jamie Foxx doing a Four Tops medley at the Grammys, which gave me goosebumps and inspired me to make this post.

Please pay special attention to Reach Out, which should be very easy to do since it is a fucking behemoth of a song. Laying waste to urban centers, enslaving the strong and massacring the weak. Resolving the end of the chorus with one of my favorite runs from the major third to the fourth to the fifth of the chord.

Build up huge for the chorus, then drop the beat for a subtle bassline, HAH! Right when the verse kicks in, HAH! Now if only Tom G Warrior was in the Motown studio the day they tracked this song...

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The Shangri-Las - Myrmidons of Melodrama

Hey chances are that I've probably made fun of some band that you like for having teen angst. Man teen angst can actually be pretty cool when it's not all done up in false poetry. Also it helps when you have a genius song-writing and mad scientist style production.

That's one of the coolest things, when you have some ostensibly silly teenage love songs coupled with Lolita style sexuality, but also fucking godhead songs. The classic example is Phil Spector with The Ronettes and The Crystals, but George Morton was operating on a similar level here. See also: France Gall & Serge Gainsbourg, Britney Spears & whoever produced Toxic.

The Beatles stole a lot of ideas from this era of girl group pop, and you can hear it in the way that the verses of a lot of those songs have a beginning, middle and end then adjust to lead smoothly into the chorus, rather than just repeating the same vocal idea four times. We've got layers and layers here in these songs, but, as is expected of great writing, it's never distracting. You don't have to hear all of the syncopated percussion if you don't want to, but if you do you might just stuff your bra and keep a diary. God I hope I don't get my period in gym class.

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Note: I deleted the final tracks of this collection, which was a make-up advertisement and other things, so the ish would fit on mediafire. If you are offended, I am not sorry. Find something better to care about.

Elza Soares - Elza Carnaval & Samba (1969)

My life is pretty fucking cold and windy right now, and this is exactly the type of thing I need to listen to in order to shelter myself from reality. Vibrant vibrant vibrant. I mean just look at this album cover and imagine yourself in better place, such as heaven.

I'm on my way to see my friends Fireworks jam it out, so I'm not really going to say anything else. Except Bernard Purdie does a hilarious job of teaching the samba groove in this video.

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Jacks - Vacant World (1968)

Jacks go ahead and just lay waste to their own songs on this record. If you listen to the first few seconds of any of these tracks, you might be fooled into thinking that this is a normal, laid-back bluesy psych record or that you are listening to something softly melodic. However, Jacks take the approach of putting together ostensibly normal songs, then damaging them as much as possible through frantic yelling, bizarre instrumentation, and, of course, fuzzed out brain-coating walls of noise. The tempo and somber vocals of the song Vacant World make what could have been an otherwise peaceful, ethereal journey through guys doing drugs into an ominous, foreboding experience that places the weight of the cosmos squarely on your chest. If you like Les Rallizes Denudes, you know what to do:

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Nara Leão - Nara (1964)

I was just looking at my Mediafire files, and you motherfuckers really downloaded the shit out of that Luiz Bonfá album. Is it because I was feeling particularly eloquent and charismatic when I wrote up that review? Are you guys just a bunch of closeted Brazil fetishists? They have websites about what you're into; I won't tell you but they are easy to find. Anyway, I'm going to pander to the proles and post up another bossa nova related record.

The songs on this album are short and to the point, which is entirely reasonable when arranging with melodies of this caliber. There is absolutely no need for extended verses or bridges, just bring voices in and out enough to keep things interesting. Maybe let a mournful trumpet solo ensure that everyone is just absolutely weeping.

This record has a pervasive somber mood, and not in some lame-ass, myspace-style self-pitying way. Like the best black metal bands, these songs touch a deep, existential melancholy. Maybe the lyrics are about "I love you/I'll stay true," but the music has enough inherent value to stand on its own, regardless of lyrical content.

The most important thing is track six, Luz Negra. Achingly, achingly beautiful. Descending chromatic motion just reaches into my tear ducts and drags the saltwater right on out, you know? Like drowning in the ocean on a moonless night.

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Bonus check out those chompers. Also, clarinets:

Don Covay - Mercy! (1965)

Mercy, Mercy is my favorite song of the moment, so I'm posting this Don Covay record. This isn't one of those soul records with a hit single and 10 boring-ass songs of filler, but I mostly just want to talk about Mercy, Mercy. It also turns out that maybe half of the songs are just re-workings of Mercy, Mercy so that works out really well for me here. As they say, if it is a giraffe, then you should ride it.

One of my favorite things is when the verse of a song is way catchier than the chorus. Another of my favorite things is when a song flirts with both major and minor tonality. Let's take a look at this chord progression here: A/C#7/D/Dm

Wow what a great idea. That C#7 chord has an F in it, which isn't in an A major scale, but is the sixth in an A minor scale. Then, that F goes up a half step to F# for the D major chord which re-establishes the major tonality, then back to F again for the D minor chord. Quite an emotionally satisfying journey for just a few half-steps here and there. But really doggies, whenever you're playing a major IV chord, drop that third down a half-step and see how it makes you feel.

My third favorite thing is when a singer says their own name: "She said, 'Don, your baby's gonna leave you, her bag is packed up under the bed'" Here let me try: "My friends said, 'Todd you've got to update your blog, because we're addicted to the internet.'"

But ignore all of this theory talk for a second. Don Covay put together one of my favorite soul records. Really great guitar playing (Jimi Hendrix supposedly played on some of these songs) mixed high enough so that I can hear it and nerd out. Gritty, expressive vocals. Go for it:

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Moby Grape - Moby Grape (1967)

What the fuck going on here, I'm doing this.

We're starting this off with a record that I really enjoy recommending, because people always love it.

Moby Grape's self-titled debut from 1967 is a fucking shining example of melody and songcraft. The hooks on this thing are so perfect - Grape mastered the quick build-up into a nice rhythmic vocal break. Take notes on Come in the Morning and Hey Grandma. Also, consider the call and response arrangements of Omaha and Fall On You. I love songs that are written like this. Super catchy next level hooks, but song structures with much more flow and subtlety than the arena rock "man this chorus has got to be huge" agenda that's become the standard for pop music today.

There's also a steady flow of busy but tasteful lead guitar riffing. But hey, unlike many other records by white dudes from this time period, this is not a manual on how to be really boring at playing the blues. This is a manual on how to turn my brain into a pleasure factory.

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