I was going to get back to playing you Australian stuff (this is supposed to be an Australian power pop blog after all), but today's song from England is just so irresistible that I couldn't resist* keeping it away from the blog any longer.
Here are The Bees with "Chicken Payback", accompanied by an utterly demented video:
I received an email from a tremendously enthusiastic musician by the name of Alejandra O'Leary. (Hi, Alejandra!)
Before I go on, I'd just like to say that I think Alejandra's full name is splendid. I love the unlikeliness of it. (Like "Franciscus Smyth-Biggins", or "Bjorn McSporran", or "Trevor M'bokopappamoko" etc etc).
Alejandra let me know about her latest album, Broken Mirror Baby, so I had a listen. I thought the songs were enjoyable. However, there's a huge but...*
...but I found Alejandra's voice problematic. I like the timbre of her voice – it's sort of a little-girl / girl-group / cute-cute-cute sound, and I like that kind of voice a lot – but it's the intonation that's not good news.
I don't want to criticise Alejandra's voice too much, because she's a better singer than I am (you really don't want to hear me sing) – but Alejandra has recorded this CD and I'm mildly surprised that she's allowed her singing as it currently sounds on the record to be presented to the public. I found the intonation (i.e., pitch) painfully insecure. With home recording nowadays, musicians have the luxury of being able to record take after take until they're happy with what they've done. (Of course, musicians can go overboard with their recordings, spending way too much time correcting tiny things until they've made something completely flawless, fault-free, polished and sterile, without a hint of humanity.) So I thought Alejandra may have had the chance to take her recording away and tinker with her vocals (doing a retake here, a retouch there) until they were all in tune – or perhaps slightly less out of tune. Maybe Alejandra was going for a rough'n'raucous vibe with her vocals. But I don't quite understand why, because the rest of the record (instrumentation, performance, recording) is neither rough nor raucous.
So the upshot of this gingerly offered review is that I liked the songs but I didn't like the singing.
I have a terrible confession to make (sorry about this, Alejandra – you can cover your eyes now if you want to): Whilst listening to the songs, I actually winced a few times. I don't know if I'm sensitive to vocal intonation or anything (I don't think I have perfect pitch, so it's not that), but I do have a problem when things aren't in tune, whether they be vocals or instruments. It makes no difference to me – if something's out of tune, I tend to cringe because to me it's incredibly noticeable, wherever it is.
I don't want to make a big deal out of this. Alejandra's vocals may not bother you anywhere near as much as they did me.
I also don't want to end this post on a sour note (yep, pun intended), because I really don't like bagging** people, so I'll mention the things I liked.
"What are the things you liked?" I hear you ask.
I'm glad you asked. I can say that what I liked about Alejandra's songs were the song structures, instrumentation, playing, and recording quality. Although I didn't think the vocal melodies were terribly strong, I thought they suited the songs. It all made for what I’d consider to be "relaxed songs" – songs that took their time unfolding.
How about I let you hear the songs for yourself? That way, you can decide whether the last few paragraphs were horrendously unfair to a tremendously enthusiastic musician...
I was listening to a new power pop album the other day and not enjoying it much. But it did do one good thing for me – as I was listening to it I suddenly had the urge to play a track I hadn't heard in years:
I think it's the ambiguity that just increases the sigh-factor in me. Is it about divorce? Death? Incarceration? Madness? Just why did the mother leave? Or maybe she didn't leave. Who knows? I guess the listener can decide what's what and who's who in this song.
Incidentally, I was originally going to play you a different Paul Kelly song today but I thought it might have been a bit too low-key for you. It's an obscure single by Paul that didn't chart, but I absolutely adore it. Actually, I think I'll play it tomorrow anyway.
By now you're probably aware that, courtesy of the lover of most things Japanese – and soon to be in Japan* – Celeste (Hi, Celeste!), I've been exposed to a variety of Japanese pop and rock music. And because I have a blog, you have, too.
Believe it or not, I stumbled across this Japanese band without the aid of Celeste. I have no idea how, when, or where I saw them on the Intertubes, but I did, liked what I heard, and thought "Hmm – I wonder if I can put some of their songs on the blog and not have people running away screaming."
So here's Japanese rock band Cymbals. If you're wondering whether or not it's worth your time pressing "play" and listening to something you've never heard before for a few minutes, then I'll give you a short description and leave it up to you:
I'm going to do something I don't usually do: I'm going to ask you to play the video first, because it's that version of the song I'm featuring today. And it's a specific aspect of the performance in the video that I want you to experience.
I've chosen today's track specifically for the drumming, which is provided by premier session dude Simon Phillips (who also provided the drums on the studio version). I think it's astonishing drumming, and propels the song in a way that makes it an unstoppable force of nature:
Potentially snooze-inducing sidenote: Simon Phillips came to Australia in the 80's and held a drum clinic in Adelaide (the state capital of South Australia, where I live). I must admit that I don't remember exactly when that was, so I'll have to interrupt his reminiscence to find some dates...
Found it. According to this page, Simon Phillips was in Adelaide sometime in May 1988 for a clinic tour promoting Zildjian and Tama. (Drummers know what those mysterious words "Zildjian" and "Tama" mean.)
Anyway, I went off to this drum clinic*. Simon appeared, said "howdy" to everyone (he may not have actually used the word "howdy"), sat down at his drum kit, and proceeded to play "Give Blood" (see above). In its entirety. Completely solo. And my jaw dropped – for six minutes.
It was one of the most amazing musical performances I've ever experienced. Thanks, Simon, for drumming an entire song on your own and not making it boring.
I was in an op shop the other day (I think they're called "thrift shops" in America and "junk* shops" in England – shops that aid charities by selling secondhand goods ultra-cheaply), and made a beeline straight for the books and CDs (as I always do). I was extremely pleased to find a Taxiride CD there for $2. I'd heard very little of Taxiride – only a couple of radio hits – but I remembered that one of the power pop blogs I visit regularly speaks highly of them from time to time. (I've forgotten which blog it is.) So I handed over a $2 coin (we have those in Australia), and I'm now the owner of Taxiride's 2002 album, Garage Mahal.
Now that I've heard an entire Taxiride album, I must admit that I'm underwhelmed. It's very slick modern rock, and seems as if it was designed specifically to be played on commercial radio. That in itself is not bad thing as far as I'm concerned, but the album doesn't sound terribly unique to me. It sounds like it could have been recorded by any number of other bands that sound like Taxiride. I didn't get the sense of "Oh yeah, that's Taxiride alright – it couldn't be anyone else."
Incidentally, Garage Mahal contains "Creepin' Up Slowly", the biggest hit the band ever had – it was a Top Ten hit in Australia (it got to number six):
You can hear more about the album's entry into perpetuity on this ABC News page. It mentions that six out of the album's 10 songs were banned from radio airplay when it was released. Here's one of the banned songs:
Skyhooks - "You Just Like Me 'Cos I'm Good In Bed" (1974)
Sometimes it's just the phrasing in a song that makes you go "Hey, that sounds like..."
Here's the chain of events:
1. I was over at the Power Pop Criminals blog (Hi, Angelo!), and downloaded the latest in the blog's series of power pop cover version compilations, Tributes Or Not Tributes. (Thanks, Angelo!)
2. I was listening to the compilation, and enjoying most of it (some of those cover versions were... um, ah, um, well, er... let's just say I'd rather not hear them again).
3. One of the songs on it was "Still I'm Sad". I'd never heard the song before, and was amazed when I heard the opening phrase. I didn't know if its similarity to another song was that noticeable in the original version by The Yardbirds, so I found it and had a listen to that as well. Yep, that phrasing was just as noticeable. The cover did it instrumentally, but The Yardbirds did it vocally, Gregorian Chant-style. (Why???) Either way, its similarity to another piece of music was glaringly obvious to my ears. This is the bit:
Up until I had a look at the year that song was released, I'd always thought that was an 80's song. (Well, maybe I can look at it as an 80's song released in the 90's. Or maybe I can call it an honorary 80's song.)
I must admit that at the time I preferred their follow-up single:
Like yesterday (and the day before that), today's post will yet again feature the musings of the 20-year-old jetsetter of the household. (Hi, Celeste!)
Celeste has grown a little tired of the Japanese and Korean pop music she's been listening to, and has decided to delve into 1970s pop (or as Celeste put it: "I feel like listening to 70s pop. What do you recommend?"). It probably started last week when Celeste heard 10cc's "The Things We Do For Love" on the radio. She – like me a few decades ago – fell for the melodies, the harmonies, the variety within the song, and basically the overall loveliness of it all. Now, because Celeste wasn't especially familiar with 10cc I thought I'd play her a few of their songs to see what she thought of the band overall. I played "The Things We Do For Love" first, mainly because I wanted to hear it again. Because that song is on the band's fifth album, Deceptive Bends, I played Celeste a couple of other songs from it. I then played her a couple of songs from their second album, Sheet Music. I thought at the time that might be enough. But then I remembered some other 10cc songs that I love, and played those to Celeste, too. And then I remember some more, and played those as well.
Unfortunately for Celeste, after each track I thought to myself "Right, that'll be the last one" but as soon as it finished I wanted to play Celeste just one more. This lasted an hour. I was glad that Celeste didn't mind. The exceedingly perceptive 20-year-old said that she thoroughly enjoyed what she heard, and asked for those 10cc albums to go on her MP3 player. And after I'd played all those 10cc songs, Celeste said the words that music nerds love to hear: "What else do you recommend?"...
Celeste's MP3 player is now full of 70's pop.
Although "The Things We Do For Love" was suggested for the blog, I thought that might be a bit too 'soft', even though I love the song and would love everyone to hear it. Instead, I decided to go with something a little beefier from Deceptive Bends.
Here now is a song that isn't "The Things We Do For Love":
Incidentally, the other young'un in the household, 15-year-old Natalie (Hi, Natalie!), requests songs for the blog from time to time, but the ones Natalie tends to ask for are by people such as Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez, Miley Cyrus et al – i.e., Disney pop moppets. Unfortunately for Natalie, I don't like any of those songs by the pop moppets, and I really don't want to inflict 'em on you. However, Natalie did request a song that I didn't go "Eeewwww" when she suggested it. It's not power pop in the slightest (or even Australian), but it's a fun song from the 80's and I'll make it tomorrow's song. Brace yourself...
And another Celeste-oriented post. (Which is fine by me, because Celeste will be leaving next month to study in Japan for 10 months, so I'm keen to spend as much time with her as possible before she goes – even time on a blog.)
When I played to Celeste a recent musical coincidence involving Cheap Trick's "The Flame", I happened to mention that I thought "The Flame" was a dreadful Cheap Trick song. Celeste responded with "Well, you should play one of their good ones on the blog."
I'm afraid that today's song has a bit of a back-story to it. I'll try not to take too long telling it...
Yesterday's song was "Only If You Wanna" by Perth band Team Jedi. When I played it to 20-year-old daughter Celeste (Hi, Celeste!), lover of all things J-Rock (i.e., Japanese pop and rock music), she said "That sounds like Plastic Tree." Thankfully, I knew what she was talking about.
Plastic Tree is a Japanese rock band. Musically, they're a moody bunch – probably because they idolise The Cure. However, Plastic Tree's songs don't actually sound much like The Cure. It's more a vibe thing. Plastic Tree have a sort of Cure sensibility. They have large unkempt hair and act all mopey when they're on stage. The singer has a lost puppy look (helped by his habit of wearing oversized cardigans and staring downward, appearing forlorn). I dare say this would drive his young female fans wild, as they dream of giving him a big hug and telling him that everything will be alright.
Anyway, I've heard quite a few Plastic Tree tracks (thanks, Celeste!) and enjoy most of them, but there's one in particular I like a lot. It's slow and moody, and the song features some extra moody drum work, specifically on the tom-toms. Whenever I think about Plastic Tree, the first track I want to hear again is the one with all the tom-toms in it. I can never remember the name of the song, so I just call it "The Tom-Tom Song."
When Celeste mentioned that yesterday's song sounded like Plastic Tree, my instant response was: "Hey Celeste, what's that tom-tom song of theirs? I really want to hear it again."
I know approximately six things about today's song:
1) What it's called ("Only If You Wanna")
2) Who it's by (Team Jedi)
3) Where the band's from (Perth)
4) When it was released (2002)
5) How long it is (3:26)
6) I like it
I don't know if I've told you this before (I probably haven't, because my memory's dreadful), but I love Boogie Woogie – love it with a passion. I find Boogie Woogie utterly irresistible. This is one reason why:
Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find an MP3 of the song.
I must thank internetter Nathan for unknowingly alerting me to The Chicks' existence. (Nathan posted a request for songs by The Chicks on a music newsgroup.) Thanks, Nathan, whoever* and wherever you are!
Update: My friend Stonefish (Hi, Stonefruit!) has supplied an MP3 of the song. Believe it or not, Stonemason got it from the elusive and mysterious Nathan. Thanks, Nathan! Thanks, Stonecrafty!
After I played the James Gang's "Midnight Man" last week, commenter FD13NYC (Hi, FD!) mentioned how much he liked Joe Walsh, the band's leader (i.e., the James Gangleader, ho ho). FD's musings prompted me to present you with today's song, "Life's Been Good".
I've provided you with both the album version – all 8:56 of it – and the radio edit which is a slightly more manageable 4:41 in case you can't stomach the thought of 9 continuous minutes of Joe Walsh. The choice is yours...
The ever-productive Scott Thurling, owner of Popboomerang Records, has produced another Popboomerang compilation. It's called Making A Big Sound! #2, and young Mr. Thurling has rather generously made the entire thing a free download. (Yay!)
Yesterday I mentioned how I wake up every morning with a random song in my head, and then proceeded to play you the song I heard in me noggin' last Wednesday.
On Thursday it was a piece of classical music. I thought you might not be terribly interested in that, so I've refrained from posting it here.
Ocean Grove are an American band that I mentioned on the blog last month, so I guess that'd be why one of their songs is still hanging around in my head.
Today's song is the result of yet another instance in a series I like to call: "Ah, the mysteries of the human mind..."
I don't know about you, but I wake up pretty much every morning with a song in my head. It's a different song every time, and I'm very glad about that. (I'd hate it to be the same song every day.) I don't know why I wake up with a song in my head – other than that I'm utterly besotted with music, can't get enough of it, and think about it a lot – because I don't listen to the radio (unless I'm out and about in an automobile), and I don't listen to the clock radio by the bed before I go to sleep. I don't even listen to it in the morning. Ah, the mysteries of the human mind.
This was what I had in my head when I woke up last Wednesday morning:
