Tuesday


1
Nov 22

Happy November to you

Did you enjoy Catober? It is one of my favorite times of the year. Phoebe and Poe are good sports the whole month as I try to put one camera or another in their face. And they cooperated right until this weekend, when I was trying to get a traditional bonus photo. If you missed a day, you can click that link, above, and see them all in reverse chronological order.

It was cold, you see, and we’d just made breakfast on Sunday morning. Put the stove cover back on, which I built to keep cats off the stove. So they sit on the cover, or near it, to enjoy the radiant heat from the slowly cooling stove and oven. This is the routine. Part of it, anyway.

Good thing I made that cover, I guess.

I saw this scene as I was parking this morning. This is the parking deck a block from our building, adjacent to where the old hotel/dorm/office building was. In fact, this is that removal project. You can’t really see much of this from my office anymore, but the heavy machinery work continues, and a dad thought enoufh of it to bring his kid. And they had a time.

They’re busting up cement with the big machines. Big repetitive sounds. The kid is bouncing in dad’s arms in time. It’s the cutest thing.

This is quite the treat for both of them, I’m sure.

We ran across this in Indianapolis on Saturday, and it didn’t really fit in yesterday’s sparse entry, so I’m putting it here.

“We thought. You. Was A. Toad!”

The soundtrack to “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” in a future installment of the Re-Listening Project. Speaking of which …

There’s not much new you can say about 1977’s “Bat Out of Hell.” The Meat Loaf, Jim Steinman debut is one of the best selling records in the history of everywhere. Meat Loaf became an actor and enjoyed a well-deserved musical renaissance in the 1990s, but “Bat Out of Hell is the mark. It is certified 14-times platinum in the U.S. and spent 522 weeks on the charts in the UK. It’s also 26-times platinum in Australia and two times diamond in Canada. It topped the Australian, Dutch, and New Zealand charts in it’s day. A quarter century later it found its way atop the Australian, Irish andAmerican album charts again in 2022, and landed in the top 10 in four other countries. It was as, they say, a minor success. I think they issued it to people in the suburbs for a time.

There was a time when someone bought this record, invited their friends over, and put this needle on the vinyl for the first time. Imagine, or remember, hearing the first 100 seconds of this rock opera for the first time.

That’s one of those first-time experience I’d like to have once more. Wikipedia:

Steinman insisted that the song should contain the sound of a motorcycle, and complained to producer Todd Rundgren at the final overdub session about its absence. Rather than use a recording of a real motorcycle, Rundgren himself played the section on guitar, leading straight into the solo without a break. In his autobiography, Meat Loaf relates how everyone in the studio was impressed with his improvisation. Meat Loaf commends Rundgren’s overall performance on the track:

In fifteen minutes he played the lead solo and then played the harmony guitars at the beginning. I guarantee the whole thing didn’t take him more than forty-five minutes, and the song itself is ten minutes long. The most astounding thing I have ever seen in my life.

Next up, a bit of Van Hagar. I bought my first Van Halen record, “OU812,” as a cassette in 1988 or so, when it came out. The first Van Halen CD to appear in the collection is a bit later in their catalog. It, like so much of the Sammy Hagar holds up.

I should have played this filler-track for Halloween.

If you’re looking for classic Van Halen riffs and percussion …

This iteration of the band was doomed to fail just after the supporting tour. In retrospect, I think you can hear it in Alex Van Halen’s drum solo. There’s just something grievous and entropic happening in here.

Now, “Baluchitherium” didn’t make it onto the vinyl format because of time constraints, but it’s full of that classic sound. And, score one for a more modern format.

Real Van Halen fans thought this riff sounded familiar. They were correct.

The record was three-times certified as platinum in the U.S. and Canada, but it was the last of Hagar. The band got tense on the road, because this is the Van Halen story. Three years later there was the one record with Gary Cherone, and then the last studio album, the still-tumultuous David Lee Roth version of the group.

Altogether, Van Halen had 12 studio albums — all but one of those landed in the top 10, and four of them, including “Balance” went to number one. (Balance was the last to hit the top of the charts.) From all of that, and two live albums and two more compilation albums, they released 56 singles. Thirteen of those sat atop the charts in the United States, and another 10 landed in the Top 10. But every time Van Halen comes to mind, for some reason, I think “What if?”

I’m sure that’s just my timing, talking.

Speaking of timing … just you wait until you hear the underwhelming anecdote I have for the next item on the Re-Listening Project.

I shouldn’t say it is very underwhelming … that might set the bar too high. But the story will not impress you at all.


25
Oct 22

Come on and dance

It’s a cold and rainy and busy day, signifying … something. So instead of the usual filler, or four grim paragraphs about all of the leaves that have quite quit today, let’s just get back to the Re-Listening Project.

I’ve started working my way through all of my old CDs, but in chronological order of purchase. It’s a good way to pad the blog, which is what we’re shamelessly doing today. (But with some delightful music.) These aren’t reviews, there’s nothing new to say about today’s discs anyway, but they are fun, particularly if you like what is, today, classic rock.

This isn’t my genre, but the genre reaper comes for all of us, eventually. In fact, I’ve probably always thought of this first band as classic rock. They were on the AC stations of my youth, which meant the music of the adults in my world, which meant, and means, classic rock. Listening to it today, in a bit more isolation and years removed from hearing it on regular airplay, I am appreciating what I’m hearing.

Which is to say this is the Steve Miller Greatest Hits compilation. Given the above, this is surely this was a bulk purchase I made in my early days of CD collecting. Given the rest of the above, I’m glad for it today.

“Greatest Hits 1974-1978” made it to #18 on the Billboard chart, and #11 on the Top Rock Albums chart. Not bad for a record of contemporary hits that was released in 1978, essentially immediately as these songs fell out of heavy rotation. All but one song came from their previous two albums — it was a different time, musically speaking — and I’ll bet you can guess which one was the outlier there. Anyway, let’s listen in …

The first four tracks work about as well as you would expect for three top 20s and a number single. But the fifth track grabs your attention. “True Fine Love” manages to be a rock ‘n’ roll history lesson in just two minutes and 40 seconds.

I believe that if you just pulled out the guitar track here you could identify this as a Steve Miller song.

This sounds like a cover, but Steve Miller wrote this, with a Joseph and Brenda Cooper. They seemed to have just the one song. And if you’re wondering if I won’t spend a lot of time trying to find their collective story … well, then … you must be new here.

As an aside … there are a few interesting covers of “Dance, Dance, Dance.”

A capella intro!

There’s a lullaby version … which opens up a whole new world of options, really.

Is there a video of some dudes singing this in the bed of a pickup?

You really are new here.

(Those guys are from New Jersey.)

Play this song and see how many snippets and bits of other songs it reminds you of. That happens a lot to me in Steve Miller Band songs, for some reason.

My favorite song, this time through, was “Wild Mountain Honey.” I listened to it a few times. It was worth it. It’s trippy, which meets the mode of the moment, but it has some heart.

As I have said, probably over and over, in this section of the Re-Listening Project, I think we’re in a batch of CDs I bought all at once. It makes sense, given my tastes at the time, and the records in question. I don’t have a lot of memories or stories affiliated with this Steve Miller compilation. The problem might be my listening habits. Maybe bulk purchases become a sort of obligation. “OK, here it is. I have played it. Now I must listen to these other four.” It becomes, perhaps, more mechanical and obligatory, and there aren’t dozens or hundreds of plays like the regular CD purchased in isolation. So there aren’t strong anecdotes or even flashes of stretches of road, that come to mind as I re-listen to this CD, but I can say this, unequivocally: I bought this for one song.

Yeah.

I have, from time to time, thought of changing my name to Maurice, just so I could tell people “It means ‘Gangster of Love.'”

Now, I don’t have this record, but there’s a general consensus that the made up words of epismetology and pompatus can be traced back to “The Letter.”

My collection really needs some doo wop filled with nonce words.

That’s almost 750 words, and 11 videos, of filler masquerading as content. Let’s wrap this up. The next CD in the list is another greatest hits. Which one? Good question. I can hardly tell myself. It’s a version of The Police’s greatest hits. I say “a version” because they, and their label A&M, only released SEVEN versions of this thing over 23 years. That earned 23 platinum certifications in five countries and 10 golds in seven more, so clearly it worked. But, if Steve Miller is before me The Police are beyond me.

So, here, have “King of Pain.”

Try not to think about how much that reminds you of “Don’t Stand So Close to Me.”

Maybe “Wrapped Around Your Finger” is a better way to close this out.

Seven greatest hits compilations. They released five albums before they broke up.

Know what was the straw that broke the camel’s back?

This drum machine:

Take us home, Wikipedia:

Because drummer Stewart Copeland had broken his collarbone and was unable to drum, he opted to use his Fairlight CMI to program the drum track for the single, while singer/bassist Sting pushed to use the drums on his Synclavier instead. The group’s engineer found the Synclavier’s programming interface difficult; it ended up taking him two days to complete the task. Copeland ultimately finished the drum programming and claimed that the Fairlight’s then-legendary “Page R” (the device’s sequencing page) saved his life and put him on the map as a composer. In a Qantas inflight radio program named “Reeling in the Years”, Copeland was quoted as saying that the argument over Synclavier versus Fairlight drums was “the straw that broke the camel’s back,” and that this led to the group’s unravelling.[citation needed]

No, Wikipedia. No citation is needed. That would require a deep dive and, ultimately, another greatest hits release. (Here’s a less colorful version of the story from Andy Summers, if you must.) I’m fine with something between hyperbole and ambiguity. It’s The Police, after all.


18
Oct 22

A sostenuto over tea kettle

The interesting thing about siloed and stratified workplaces is that, sometimes, people get out over their skies and, because you know their background you know they are well out over their skis. We all get there eventually. Racing along until you’re flailing along. The next part is about how graceful you can be when the physics are no longer your friend.

This is why I don’t talk a lot about market equities or PEST analyses. My hips and shoulders would be out of alignment pretty quickly. And if those were the sorts of things in your vocabulary, you’d know how much flailing about I was doing.

Another interesting thing about working in a place like this is that I today had occasion to say this sentence.

“… and the point behind that is based on research developed in this very building … ”

Because that, friends, sounds cool.

This is also an area where I can talk about something I’m trained in, to someone who is not, and delivery as much clarity as necessary, operationalizing things like the Limited Capacity Model of Motivated Mediated Message Processing and cognitive processing in video messages or, more broadly, concentrated messaging or holistic strategies.

Looks like it is time to catch up once again with the Re-Listening Project. I’m filling valuable blog space and valueless time in the car by working my way through all of my old CDs in chronological order. None of these are reviews, but sometimes there’s something fun. And, today, there’s a lot of good music. So fall back to the mid 1990s with me, won’t you.

I’ve probably listened to this as much as anything I own. If there’s something I’ve played more, I’d like to know what it is. I bought this double live album as a cassette. How much did I listen to this? I learned how long you had to rewind each song to get back to the front again. I listened to it a lot. When I picked it up again as a CD, I had a copy for the car and a copy for the house.

As I listened to this last week I found myself reciting all the spoken parts, and playing the bass lines on the steering wheel. The only problem with listening to this in the car is that it is always tempting to just keep driving.

Some times, when Amy Ray is singing, it is really quite tempting. Anyway, 28 great tracks make up just under two-and-a-half magical musical hours, and they’ll all play in that one fabulous box above. There’s one song I skip, but this time I listened all the way through.

Speaking of bass lines, the next record is from Martin Page. “In the House of Stone and Light” had a top 10 hit and a top 20 followup in 1994. I bought this later than that because it just seemed like the choice at the time. I don’t play it a lot, but it never disappoints. The guy has had a star-studded career, working with Kim Carnes, Earth, Wind & Fire and Barbra Streisand. The keyboards you love on the Ghostbusters theme? That’s him. He’s also worked with the great Bernie Taupin, Starship and Heart. He composed for Neil Diamond, worked with Chaka Khan and produced Tom Jones, among others. And then he did that mid-90s AC and VH-1 staple.

Rather than play the two radio hits from this record, though …

This one was released as a single, but it didn’t get the same traction. Somehow I imagine it was huge in retail shopping settings, though. Play this, you can just feel that weird sensation of extra hangers grabbing hold of one another, or that new shoe smell from the back right corner of the store.

Someone took the ballad and made it a Pride & Prejudice track. It … works?

Those are from his debut album. This summer he released his 10th record. So I have some work to do, hips and shoulders. Hips and shoulders.


11
Oct 22

1,000 words on music, and more

Two trees, two species, two colors, one block. And this is peak autumn. Rain is coming on tomorrow and that means the leaves will go, the cold front behind it will settle in and blah, blah, blah.

It’ll be in the 50s next week. And soon after denial will give way to grim acceptance and the countdown to April will begin.

I need about two dozen different ways to say that, so I can return to this trope at least once a week between now and then.

My contribution to the cause today was this. Meetings. And preproduction meetings for videos I have to shoot this week. Also I spent some time on a quixotic search for a delivery that’s somewhere in the building, but nowhere in the building. The UPS note says “Desk.” Well, sir or ma’am, this is a school, and there are a lot of desks, and also offices. Each one of those have desks. I have checked them all, and the administrative desks, and unoccupied desks. And also the loading dock. Nothing.

We’re going to get caught up on the Re-Listening Project here. I’m filling space and time on the blog from an in-car project, where I’m working my way through all of my old CDs in chronological order. None of these are reviews, but sometimes there’s something fun, and at least the embedded music has potential. All of these discs (eventually) cross genres in a haphazard way and today is a slight example of that. There’s no larger theme here. It is, as I’ve been saying, a whimsy, as music should be. So fall back to the mid 1990s with me, won’t you.

I don’t understand the point of a sampler in the CD format. At this late date the process seems too slow. Loading a disc, playing that song or two, swapping it to something else if you don’t like the whole mix. And maybe that is informed by always preferring a full record.

Which makes me wonder why I have this, Loaded Volume 1. (I don’t think there was ever a Volume 2.) This is an EMI sampler, and I think I probably picked it up in a bunch, and likely for just one or two songs. But what an eclectic mix beyond the electronic, rock, pop and synth-pop.

I was never invested in this collection, so let’s explore the track by track listing.

EMF’s “Unbelievable.” Maybe I bought it for this song. I think I used this on a radio show for some reason in college. (Hey, it was 1996.)

D Generation’s “No Way Out.” I probably listened to this one more closely this week than I did back then.

It’s hard to imagine a time that Lenny Kravitz ever needed to have a single included on a sampler.

Radiohead’s “Creep” holds up remarkably well, even if they seldom play it live.

Here’s an interesting story about Jesus Jones and “The Devil You Know.” There is no interesting story about this song. I checked. This is a 1993 release, though, which is why it sounds like the perfect bridge between the 1980s and 1990s, from several decades removed.

Yeah, no idea why Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark is on this CD, especially in the all-important track six spot.

The song from Blur you knew before “Song 2.”

In 1993 Duran Duran did Unplugged and “The Wedding Album” which is as big a late-career comeback a pop band can ask for. And two years later, “Come Undone” was found here. There’s a lot of Duran Duran that is aging well, considering, and I am still wondering what’s going on at this point in this disc.

There’s a nice acoustic version of Tasmin Archer’s “Sleeping Satellite” up next. This was her 1992 debut, which went number one in the United Kingdom and Ireland and reached the top 20 in 13 other countries and peaked at number 32 on the US Billboard Hot 100.

Which sets us up nicely for Milla Jovovich’s “Gentleman Who Fell.” She looks 19 on her late night debut with Conan.

Then you get Sinead O’Connor’s “I Believe In You.” Say what you will, and heaven knows a lot has been said about O’Connor, but this song is amazing.

Then there’s … “Alleluia, Beatus Vir Qui Suffert” from The Benedictine Monks Of Santo Domingo De Silos.

Interesting story, this song was part of a series of recordings from the 1970s and 1980s. It didn’t sell. A different record label, an EMI imprint, re-released it in 1994. “Chant” became the best-selling album of Gregorian chant ever released. It peaked at No. 3 on the Billboard 200, and was double platinum, two million copies sold in the United States, four million worldwide.

Then comes Shara Nelson, “What Silence Knows.” This is the title track from her debut album. This song was never released as a single, but that album was a substantial hit in the UK in 1993-1994.

And here’s a B-side from the critically important Jeffrey Gaines.

The last song is from The Specials, and I found myself wondering, while listening to “Ghost Town” the other day, if this was, in fact, the first ska song I ever heard.

Probably not, but maybe?

Anyway, should you buy this record? Do you like these songs? Will you be impressed to learn that the bonus track, not listed here, is the best song on the thing?

I’m not going to spoil that one, but if you think it is possible that, among the assembled great music above, the best song isn’t here, then maybe you should make a purchase. Here’s an incentive. The hidden track was 40 years old when this record was distributed. And it’s almost 30 years older even now.

There’s one more CD to discuss here, but it’s another one of those that was a cassette upgrade in my earliest days in the new medium. I found out about this band from some improbable late night live show. A few weeks later they were on SNL. And I’m not sure if it was days before that network appearance or in the days immediately after that I bought the debut record. It’s the first of four or six that will wind up in this project.

I was a high school freshman, listening to this too much. Way too much. Couldn’t wait to get home from school to put this on, too much. Started wondering what that meant, too much. Way too much. Nirvana didn’t interest me. I didn’t get Alice in Chains. Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots were coming my way soon. Pearl Jam was where all of it started. It meant a lot.

It meant adolescence and grunge music happened at about the same time, a ridiculous combination, and it means I’m mentally prepared if flannel and Doc Martens make a comeback. (Maybe they shouldn’t?)

“Ten,” for a 30-year-old debut, in a then-still developing genre, holds up remarkably well as a complete album. It was later that Pearl Jam would become something like The Doors.


4
Oct 22

I’m catching up on sleep, thanks

This, the Twitter thread below, is an extremely true story. I took a nap this evening and have basically gotten back to the point of feeling like normal again. Can’t imagine how she feels, but she’s got the medication! And she can take naps if she feels like it.

I’d say she’s lucky, but I’ve seen the X-rays. I know exactly how lucky she is.

Spent most of yesterday at the office telling people about it, I think. Word gets around. Maybe in a day or two I’ll be back up to full speed, and feeling like it, too!

Let’s wrap up the Poplars Building talk. You’ll remember it was a hotel, and then dorms, and finally some administrative space. The whole building is gone now. They torn down the first half during late August and September. They took the other half last week. But the remnants are still there.

Eventually this will become a green space. I take that to mean they don’t know, yet, what they want to go in that space, but some plan will come along one day.

We should catch up on the Re-Listening Project. If that sounds official, it isn’t. I am working through all of my old CDs in the car. Easy content and, sometimes, good music. These aren’t reviews, mostly just the memories that mark the time.

This is strictly chronological, which is to say the order in which I bought all of these things. My discs cross genres and periods in a haphazard way and there’s no large theme. It is, a whimsy as music should be.

“Deluxe” was Better Than Ezra’s major label debut, and I bought this first as a cassette. “Good,” which they still do on stage as “The one you remember” was released in February of 1995, and I bought it sometime around there. Obviously I thought enough about it to purchase it a second time, as a CD.

I remember playing the tape version almost continuously on a three-hour solo road trip to see a friend.

First of all, no one remembers that Salma Hayek was in the video for the third single off this record.

Her career, in American media anyway, was just about to take off. This was sublimely timed casting that wouldn’t have been possible even a few months later.

Secondly, I have this weird flash of a memory of listening to this record in an Arby’s drive thru. Maybe that was the beginning of that road trip.

It’s a deep cut, but Summerhouse still holds up.

This, along with Rosealia, was one of my favorite songs of the record.

A few years later I was shooting pool in a restaurant — that no longer exists — when a friend came out of the closet to me and the guy playing his guitar in the corner was covering that song. I was the first person she told, she said. She figured I was from the big city, and that I’d understand. But I knew already. And whole, larger story, is an incredibly sharp memory.

Seven-ball-with-a-weird-pant-scuff-in-the-right-side-pocket sharp.

This was the song for part of that fall, and parts of many subsequent autumns.

Better Than Ezra has seven more studio albums. At least the next five get better and better. They’ll all appear in this list, eventually.