Some time ago I had a hideously long post about UK band The Offbeat and their recent album, In Love Field (2010). I mentioned at the very end of the post that the band had sent me three copies of the album and that I was more than happy to give two of them away. I kept one copy (I like this album a lot), and I'm pleased to say that someone emailed me last week which resulted in one CD jetting its way to wherever it went. (I have a poor memory, and it's more than a day ago, so I've forgotten exactly where it went.)
However, I still have one copy left that I'm keen to hand over to someone. Due to a lack of responses to the original post, I've come to one of three conclusions:
1) Almost no-one got all the way to end of the post where it said "I'll give you a CD!" 2) People who read the original post hated what they heard, hate The Offbeat, and want nothing to do with the CD. 4) Hardly anyone reads this blog.
(I'm going with option 1. It was a very long post.)
I received an email from a chap named Terry (Hi, Terry!) who alerted me to a new version of the greatest psychedelic song ever recorded an old Australian song:
Sia's version of "The Real Thing" appears on Compassionism, a compilation album made last year for the stop-pestering-animals organisation PETA. It's one of those albums where the proceeds from the sale of the album go to the organisation. Surprisingly, though, it's 100% of the proceeds that go to the organisation. How's that for generous?
By the way, I think there may have been a bit of false advertising in the blurb written by whomever wrote it. The blurb starts off like this:
"Compassionism features fifteen heart-pumping tracks from some of the most creative and diverse artists to come out of The United States, Australia and Canada."
I must admit that whilst listening to Sia's version of "The Real Thing" my heart wasn't pumping any more than it usually does. If anything, it may have slowed down a little.
This is now officially the first time that a song has been made Song of the day twice on this blog. So if you want to read more about the song, head on over to the previous "The Real Thing" post. I must warn you that it consists mostly of me gushing about how stupendous "The Real Thing" is.
Link Although I'm usually mildly allergic to skinny-tie songs, I liked this. And the more I played it the more I liked it. (I've played it five times now – in a row.) And I like the lyrics, too. There are only two things I wasn't keen on:
1) The melody in the verse has an octave jump (e.g., at 0:08: "...our last GOOD night...") that I find a little disconcerting. I sounds a little like a yelp instead of being part of a natural and flowing melody. It's a very minor thing, and doesn't stop me from enjoying the song, but it's just slightly jarring;
2) One of the song's recurring riffs has a passing note that made me screw up my face the first couple of times I heard it. (One example is at 1:21.) I'm used to it now, but I thought it just a tad sour in amongst the rest of the song.
But I like this song a little more every time I play it. (I think I've already said that.)
The Tonettes - "Oh What A Baby" (1958)
Link A thoroughly enjoyable 50's song. These are the kind of songs I love grabbing a guitar and playing along to. I laughed out loud when I first heard that guitar chord at 0:05. It sounded more like a child squealing (or a bird squawking) than a guitar. Now that I'm listening to the rest of the song, I'm thinking that this may be a novelty song, considering the fabulously nonsensical background singing (what are they singing?). But besides – or maybe because of – the thoroughly cryptic lyrics (apart from the occasional "baby", I don't understand anything they're singing), the song is a great bit of 50's fun. And I love that guitar solo (at 1:10) – it sounds like the guitarist is doing his or her best to imitate a train whistle. Great stuff.
Link What an odd song. It starts off as a Motown/Funk hybrid (love the beat and that bass), but then the funky music comes to an abrupt stop to make way for a sort of soul ballad (at 0:29) as the singer pours his heart out. I sort of enjoyed "Expressway To Your Heart" but it sounded 'bitty' to me: bits of different songs and styles were grafted on to each other, but the whole thing didn't sound cohesive. Consequently, I liked some bits of it, but not other bits. Another odd thing for me is that I thought the song was way too short. I was surprised when it faded out. I thought the song was going to keep going, but it faded out at the strangest moment (at what I thought was going to be the middle section, where the singers were expanding on their woes). I wouldn't have minded it going on for much longer. I've heard the song a few times now (three), and each time I'm surprised and mildly disappointed when the song fades out. Ah, well.
Link Now, this must be a novelty song from the 50's. The words here are even more nonsensical than the ones in The Tonettes' song. The main lyrics are actually gibberish. This song is silly. And I liked it. I didn't love it, though, because of the verses staying on the one chord which was way too monotonous for me. And I winced at the bad harmony singing at the end of the song (1:58-2:02). Still, it's a fun song.
Link Very nice guitar playing. I could go on and on about the various aspects of the guitar work, but it would waste my time and yours. However, I do want to point out the excellent guitar harmonics at the end of the track. They're marvellous – as is the guitar playing everywhere else in the rest of the track. By the way, and this won't be of interest to anyone, but I've always like The Doobie Brothers (I've had Best Of The Doobies for years and love it), and I have to admit that my all-time favourite driving song is "Listen To The Music". If ever I'm cruising down a highway with the wind in my hair, "Listen To The Music" is the perfect song to listen to.
Here's the Zoot, a band who early on their career sounded like they wanted to be Australia's answer to The Who (maybe not all the band members, but the drummer certainly), with a nice little sing-along:
Zoot - "One Times Two Times Three Times Four" (1969)
I was all set to play you a super-duper power pop song from Australia today, but I've been listening to Super Hits Of The 70's: Have A Nice Day (yes, all 26 discs) and was amazed by one song in particular. I just had to share it with you. The song is "Small Beginnings" by Flash, a British prog rock band.
If you're familiar with today's track, then please pardon my ignorance. I'd never heard the song before, or even heard of the band. The first time I heard it I was stunned by how much it sounded like... well, I'll let you figure it out:
I received a fabulous* email from a musician called David (Hi, David!) the other week. David told me that he used to be in a band called Sins Tailor and then asked if I wouldn't mind playing some old tracks he'd dug up from an album the band made many, many years ago. (It was 1998.) The album is called Ticket For A Destination.
Now, before I play you a track or two, I'm here to tell you – and anyone else reading this – that if somebody wants to hear some music, whether it's by them or their favourite artist, all anybody has to do to is ask. I'll play anybody's music. Anybody's.
(I may have mentioned this before, but I'm of the opinion that if someone goes to the trouble of emailing me to let me know about their music, the very least I can do is let you know about it, too.)
Right. Now on to the music.
Of the 10 tracks I heard, these three are the ones I found the most interesting:
If you like what you heard and want to buy the CD, I've been reliably informed (i.e., David told me) that there are still a few copies floating around (i.e., David has them). Just email David and he'd be quite happy to sell you one. Easy.
One last thing: when I saw the name of the band I thought that it was a sort-of Spoonerism. I thought that somebody had first come up with the name "Tin Sailor" then decided to: a) swap the first two letters of each word; and b) make the first word plural. In other words, I think someone decided to go from the fairly comprehensible "Tin Sailor" to the completely incomprehensible "Sins Tailor". (Well, the transformation made sense to me.)
A dude by the name of Kurt Baker A gentleman calling himself Kurt Baker Some guy whose name might be Kurt Baker
A young man called Kurt Baker emailed me about his new EP, Got It Covered (2010), which contains seven cover versions of songs by his favourite power pop artists.
When I had a look at the track listing I thought, "Mmm – I like his choice of songs":
You can hear all of the new versions, plus read about Kurt's reasons for recording them, on his website.
To be honest, I think that new versions of those songs – by anyone, not just Kurt – is completely unnecessary. If you ask me, the originals are perfectly alright as they are.
I've now heard Kurt's cover of "Hanging On The Telephone" (along with the other tracks). I still think that any new version of those songs is completely unnecessary, but I have to admit that this is not bad at all:
I was contacted by a Swedish band called The Genuine Fakes (Hi, Genuines!) who pointed me in the direction of their website so I could have a listen to their highly regarded album, The Striped Album (2010). I'm guessing it's highly regarded because of the blurb that was in the email they sent me:
POWERPOP ALBUM OF THE YEAR?
The album, which has no official title but is simply called "The Striped Album", is now finally being released after the painstaking process of recording and fine-tuning every song in the studio since 2007. The two previous singles from the album; "I Don't Want It" and "When Reality Hits You", have gained recognition and spawned anticipation on both sides of the Atlantic.
"The Genuine Fakes might even beat The Posies and Teenage Fanclub (who are also releasing new albums in 2010) in their own game and make the most enjoyable pop album of the year." (One Chord to Another, powerpop blog)
Both singles have been on rotation on US radio channels, such as Sirius Satellite Radio.
"If there is one new band that you need to check out this year, The Genuine Fakes may just be that band. This is one awesome band that is making some very impressive music." (Popbang Radio, US)
R N' B SONG RE-IMAGINED
The third single chosen from the album is the band's rendition of Beyoncé's R n' B ballad "Irreplaceable". However, this version is anything but a ballad – the song has been totally reworked and made into a real powerpop anthem, winning over even the most sceptical gig attendees. "We thought that the song was pretty good, but that we could make it a lot better", says singer Joey. "It was a fun challenge to make it into something completely different and, ultimately, into our own." The song is now being offered as a free download through thegenuinefakes.com along with the two other singles.
If you like your power pop loud, then you may like The Striped Album. However, every song seemed loud to me. The first time I listened to it, I had it a fairly respectable volume (i.e., loudish) but it sounded too loud and my ears tired fairly quickly. On the second listen I turned it down for a more comfortable listening experience but it still sounded too loud. On the third listen, as an experiment, I turned it down to the bare minimum on my media player, but it felt too loud even at that level. On the fourth listen I had it back up to a that-makes-more-sense level, but I kept thinking "Boy, these songs are loud."
As I may have hinted at earlier, the whole album has one dynamic level: LOUD. One factor exacerbating the situation is that I didn't find much light and shade between – or even within – the songs. And it didn't help that the drummer played with as much enthusiasm as is humanly possible in a recording studio. Ordinarily I'd applaud that, but while the album was playing I couldn't help but notice that in pretty much all of the non-verse parts of each song, the drummer played eighth-notes on either a hi-hat that was fully open, or a crash cymbal. I don't know about you, but I can't take listening to a crash cymbal being mercilessly bashed throughout entire sections of songs. For me, the end result was listening to an album full of songs where there was the constant presence of cymbals. Loud cymbals. And to my ears, those ubiquitous cymbals amounted to white noise. (Maybe that's why the album sounded so loud to me.)
Despite what I think of the album, and how I tend to feel a little drained whenever I listen to it, you on the other hand may dig all that energy (it's a very energetic album). Feel free to have a listen to the songs in this post and make up your own mind.
Boring sidenote consisting of pointless criticism about the album cover:
I must say that I think the band missed a golden opportunity to be hip and ironic and all those other things that a lot of modern bands try to be nowadays. The Striped Album has a cover that consists, sensibly enough, entirely of stripes. Now, if the band wanted to be hip and ironic etc, I thought they could have had the album cover consist of nothing but circles, or trapezoids, or perhaps a photo of this white tiger. Ah, well.
But back to the album...
Although I found The Striped Album too loud for a comfortable listening experience, and with the songs not offering a lot of variety (these were the two main factors preventing me from enjoying it more than I wanted to), at least the band opens the album with their own theme song. Any band that has a theme song gets a big plus from me:
Hopefully, you had a listen to those songs despite my moaning about loud dynamics and album covers. And hopefully, you enjoyed them much more than I did. (I did enjoy them, though. Sort of.)
By the way, you can hear a couple more tracks from the album on its website.
To make up for yesterday's song, here are The Wellingtons doing what The Wellingtons do well (i.e., writing, performing, and recording decent power pop songs):
Link I remember this when it was played incessantly on the radio here in Australia. But that was alright by me, because I like this song, especially the chorus. That's a great chorus. And listening to the song, I'd be tempted to say that it's a very good song. Despite the sound of the snare drum.
Link An Australian band I'm familiar with, but a band whose music I've heard next to nothing of. I'm very familiar with the lead singer, the extremely entertaining Tex Perkins. If ever a man was born to be in front of a band, it's Tex Perkins. He's appeared on a lot of TV music programs here in Australia and whatever program he's on, he's managed to steal the show every time. But to the song: it's the kind of swampy bluesy rock that's never done much for me. I know a lot people absolutely love swampy bluesy rock, getting' lost in the groove and feelin' all dirty etc., but it leaves me with no particular emotion. However, the song did evoke a response in me: I thought that the beat sounded like a man dragging his injured leg on a dirt road. (Possibly on his way to murder the man who tried to run him over.) But apart from that, I'll use the word that hip youngsters like to use nowadays to describe how I felt listening to the song: Meh. (Maybe that's a little too harsh. How about I downgrade that "meh" to an "eh"? Or even an "h"?)
Link I've heard of Bill Lloyd – and actually heard some of his music. I have his Set To Pop (1994) and actually heard it a few months ago (my media player tells me it was April) but, I must confess, that I don't remember any of it at all, so I couldn't tell you what I think of Bill Lloyd. Excuse me while I go and listen to Set To Pop again... Right, now that I've heard it again, I've come to the (possibly hasty) conclusion that Bill Lloyd's music is slightly country-ish, slightly Marshall Crenshaw-ish power pop, but without any great Marshall Crenshaw-ish tunes. My guess is that if you like slightly country-ish power pop then Bill Lloyd's your man. Now, back to the song. There's a nice twangy guitar playing throughout the song, but the whole thing prompts me to criticise many aspects of it, but I don't really want to do that. (As my parents always said: "If you can't say anything nice about someone, don't say anything at all."). Unfortunately, I'm going to violate my parents' rule somewhat by mentioning that I found the backing vocals weak. I thought they were wildly inconsistent. For example:
0:36 – a harmony note is flat 0:46 – a harmony note is good 1:20 – there's a three-part harmony where one of the voices is flat, but when that section is repeated at 1:29 all the voices are in tune and sound marvellous 1:54 – for some reason the main vocal is double-tracked here (it wasn't up until then) until the last note of the phrase which becomes a harmony note (at 1:58) but it's horribly flat 2:08 – a three-part harmony that's a mess (someone's out of tune)
For me, all of that messiness warrants a trip back into the studio to re-do those vocals. I reckon a few more takes would have done the trick. As for the song overall, my response is pretty much as it was with The Cruel Sea's song. Sorry about that. (You probably hold the Bill Lloyd track in high esteem, and here I am picking it to pieces. You're quite entitled, Frank, to shout out a very long "Nooooooooooo!")
Link This is your first folkie suggestion, possibly as a result of me going ga-ga over Australian folkie Caitlin Harnett a little while ago. (I'm picturing this scenario in the mind of Frank: "Oh, good. Peter's played a folk artist on his blog. Now I can safely suggest that folk artist I like.") I like this song. I like pretty much everything about this song. Everything, that is, except for the weird (and pointless) sound effect at the start of it and occasionally later. (It's an indistinct oscillating sound. I don't know what it is, but I found it irritating.) That's a beautifully constructed (and recorded) guitar solo. I really like the sound of the guitars in this song. They're very well recorded. (The nylon-string guitar sounds fabulous.) And Sara Hickman's voice is quite lovely, as are the vocal harmonies. Very nice.
Bonus instrumental:
Nick Perito - "The Green Leaves Of Summer" (1960)
Link Ah, Easy Listening. This particular Easy Listening track is one that I've never heard before. As I'm listening to it, I'm thinking that it's a little bland. I do like the piano accordion playing the main tune. And in the time it took me to type the last two sentences, the song finished. Wow, that's a short track. Time to play it again... I'm liking it a bit more this time. (Love that accordion. And the subtle background vocals.) It's still a little bland. I've noticed in the song's tag that this track appears on the Inglourious Basterds soundtrack. I haven't seen the movie, so I don't know where in the movie this piece of music appears, or how effective it is for the scene. Jeepers – the track just finished again. Time to play it one more time... It's very low key, and I'm still finding it a bit bland. OK, I'll play it one more time... Yep, still bland. I'm getting the feeling that I'm not going to like much more no matter how many times I play it (so far, I've played it four times). I'd say that, of all the instrumental tracks you've suggested, this would be my least favourite.
Despite me going "meh" a couple of times, I'm glad that you're suggesting stuff with a lot of variety. Much obliged, Frank.
My friend Col (Hi, Col!) contacted me a couple of days ago with a huge dilemma. (Well, maybe not that huge.)
Col had an ultra-cheesy song pop into his head and for a moment thought about the potential for it appearing on this blog (thanks for thinking of the blog, Col). But almost immediately he began to fret. He frowned as he thought to himself: "Should I ask Peter to put it on the blog? Is it blog-worthy? I don't know if it is or it isn't. If I do ask Peter to put it on the blog and he knocks me back, will he hate me for suggesting it? But if Peter does put it on the blog, will people hate me for suggesting it? I don't know what to do! What shall I do? Oh, no. This is dreadful. I just can't decide whether to tell Peter or not."
I may have been paraphrasing a little there, but that was the main gist* of it. Col was wracked with indecision (I think), so he decided to mention it and hope for the best. I like this song enormously, and have no qualms* in playing it. Although I guess you tend to come here for Australian power pop, I'm happy to play you a catchy song by a pop duo from the Netherlands.
If you haven't heard the song before, I must warn you of two things:
1) It's very cheesy; and 2) It's horrendously catchy.
I can't stress point 2 enough: "How Do You Do?" really is horriblymarvellously unbelievably catchy. If you do choose to play it, you may end up with: a) this song stuck in your brain all day; and b) a thorough hatred of two people called Peter and Col.
"Five Letter Word" was the band's highest charting single.
Incidentally, if you want to know more about the band then may I suggest you shimmy on over to my previous Song of the day post featuring another song by ye olde Numbers. And you can read about how 80's band The Numbers morphed into 90's band Maybe Dolls in this Song of the day post.
If you want to know more about Matt Taylor, otherwise known as Australia's National Living Blues Treasure™, then scoot on over here for some digital enlightenment.
My friend Col (Hi, Col!) suggested today's song, and I'm glad he did. It's a nice little slice of bubblegum that I'd never heard before. Col told me that he thought it was a "really good little pop track (in that Tony Burrows style that you love so much)". I agree:
Unfortunately for Col, the version he suggested was by a band from Singapore called Breath. (Col tried to convert his vinyl copy but alas it was not a success.) Instead, I've presented you with what I think is the original version by Tony Ronald, a chap from the Netherlands. The only thing I know about Tony Ronald is that he's Dutch. Apart from that, I don't know nothin' – and I'm happy to leave it at that. (I think it's good to have a little mystery about musicians.)
In the course of trying to find a listenable version of the song, I discovered that there are plenty of other versions floating around. (Who knew a song so unassuming would have a lot of cover versions?). In keeping with the song's apparently cosmopolitan flavour, here are a few more international versions:
For me, the silliest (or, to be more accurate, the fun-est) version is the one by Lafayette. If you only want to listen to one other "Help (Get Me Some Help)", I'd recommend that one. It's a heap o' fun.
"Violet!" appears on Jeremy's (sort-of) concept album, The Reluctant Graveyard (2010). The concept is, as far as I can tell, "deceased-ness". Not the jolliest of ideas to base an entire album on, admittedly, but I'm happy to report that it's not too much of a downer. (I've listened to the album quite a few times now, and each time I haven't thought of doing myself any harm.) Anyway, for me it's all about the tunes – and the tunes on the album are good. (Lyrics are always secondary to me.)
I hadn't heard of either the artist or the song before, and I have to tell you the first three things that happened to me with this song:
a) Before playing the track, I saw the name 'Freddy Cannon' and thought "That's a fabulous name. 'Freddy Cannon'. Oh, yeah. Anyone called 'Freddy Cannon' is alright by me." b) The second thing is when I pressed "play". The song started and I instantly wanted an ice-cream. c) The third thing – and this happened a split-second after wanting an ice-cream – is that I started laughing so hard at what I heard that I had to stop the song. I had listened to four seconds of it.
It took a while, but I composed myself (i.e., stopped laughing) and started the song again. This time, I wasn't laughing. Instead, I was marvelling at the song – and loving every bit of it. The beat, the lyrics, the sound effects, even the thieving of the "Entry of the Gladiators" tune for the organ at the start – all of it was great. I can sum up "Palisades Park" in just six words: Love It, Love It, Love It. Or, putting it another way: Pure Enjoyment.
One splendid Neil Sedaka song. (I know that Neil Sedaka didn't write "Handy Man", but he might as well have, because it sounds exactly like a Neil Sedaka song.) Here come some stream-of-consciousness responses as I listen to the song:
1. I like the raunchy guitar that starts the song. 2. Del Shannon has always had a great falsetto. I adore that falsetto. 3. The rhythm section is relatively quiet throughout the song. I hadn't noticed that before. (Some of the drums pop out of the mix occasionally, but it all sounds pretty sedate to me.) 4. I really like the way Del sings. His vocal inflections are wonderfully unique. I hadn't noticed that before, either. Some of the things he does (that "whoo" at 0:15, and "say-yay" at 0:49, for example) are just magnificent. I've listened to the song six times now, and the last three times were just to hear the way Del sings. 5. That's a horrible sound in the solo. I have no idea what made that sound, but I'll be very happy if I never hear it again. 6. I'd forgotten that James Taylor also recorded "Handy Man".
I think I've heard "Handy Man" enough now. (Six times in a row may be a bit much, but I was revelling in Del's singing and got carried away.) Time for the next track.
Link I'm familiar with this, the original version of what became strongly associated with The Muppet Show. It was highlighted on a popular Australian TV music quiz show called Spicks And Specks. The tune was featured in an episode where the quizmaster asked a question about where "Mah Nà Mah Nà" originally came from. He gave three possible answers for the contestants, one of which was the correct one: "a soft-porn film from Italy." (The contestants didn't guess correctly. Ah, well.) I think "Mah Nà Mah Nà" is an excellent little ditty. And I love the little casual references by the vocalist to other tunes. The main tune is now stuck in my brain, and won't go away. "Mah nà mah nà, do do, do do-do, mah nà mah nà, do do-do, do..." etc. I think it's time for me to listen to the next song.
Link I like the groove and the main riff. I'd describe it as "Bubblegum Soul". The main riff reminds me of "Summertime Blues", especially The Who's version.
Excuse me. I have to interrupt myself to satisfy an urge to buy a CD.
I like "Little Bit O'Soul" but I'm puzzled by the lyrics. The singer mentions fishing at the beginning of the song ("When you're feeling low and your fish won't bite..."), so I'm now wondering if he's not singing about his friend gettin' some "soul" but actually offering him/her a specific fish. He also sings, quite a few times – "You need a little bit of soul..." for various reasons (e.g., his friend's in a mess, or, even worse, he/she is broken in two) and I keep thinking that he's suggesting the answer to all his friend's problems is a meal of that particular fish. By the way, there's some great bass drum work at 2:10. And the drummer's fills throughout the song are fantastic.
Anyway, it's an enjoyable bit of Bubblegum Soul. Or Soul Bubblegum. Either way, I liked it.
A nice guitar piece. It sounds like it'd be fun to learn and play. It's a good little show-off piece for a folk guitarist. I went a-lookin' for more information about "Anji" and found out that it's not a Paul Simon composition – it was written by British folk guitarist Davey Graham, and originally recorded by him in 1961. Paul Simon recorded his version in 1965. It's time for me to hear the original...
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