readin' 'n' listenin'
been re-reading clinton heylin's essential tome from the velvets to the voidoids -- a music book that changed my life more 'n any other save nik cohn's rock from the beginning (if only by belatedly validating my fandom for all the stuff the guys in the rekkid store usedta make fun of me for listenin' to back in the day) -- in its revised 2004 edition, which thankfully doesn't tamper with the 'riginal text, only updates the reader on the semi-revival of the 'meercun pre-punk underground that occurred after its original publication (hence the completely overhauled discography). i find i'm still skipping through the same chapters that didn't mean much to me the first time around (never had much interest in the talking heads, blondie, the ramones, or patti smith, as riveting a performer as patti was when i saw her at the gypsy tea room ca. y2k), finding heylin's analysis of post-'97 reunions etc. _fairly_ accurate (i mean, james williamson wrote _himself_ out of history, by putting down the gtr and focusing on his family, but i gotta agree with the author re: the, um, "mc3"), and thinking that maybe the cleveland crews of peter laughner et al. were the most titanic of all (and wishing i hadn't let some mofo "borrow" my copy of the heylin-compiled laughner comp take the guitar player for a ride, which now goes for like 70 bucks online -- who knew?!?!?).
on a trip to half price books the other day, i unearthed a coupla gems: pristine vinyl copies of jerry lee lewis' old tyme country music (on sun!) and the rolling stones' december's children (and everybody's).
in stranded, greil marcus claims that the lewis is actually from jerry lee's audition tape for sam phillips. to these feedback-scorched ears, the recording quality sounds a little too clear to support that, but whatevah: as proof positive that the killer could sing the memphis phone book, or a passel of yr grandmaw's folkbound faves and make 'em sound like a soundtrack fer sinnin' (not a consideration to be taken lightly by a country boy like jerry lee, who had the fundamentalist fire 'n' brimstone drilled into him as a lad in louisiana), it can't be beat. i can listen to it endlessly.
as for the stones, as much as i loathe what they've become in later yrs (since, i dunno, say right after exile on main st.: "my grandparents went to see the rolling stones and all i got was this #$%?&! t-shirt"), i love this alb in the same way as i love having a rave up with the yardbirds, and not just for the influence they both had on the nuggets-era 'meercun teen-snot bands. whoever the hacks were at london records that compiled albs like thisun and flowers from assorted detritus ("real" album leftovers, e.p.'s, b-sides), they knew their stuff better 'n, say, the hacks at decca responsible for the who's magic bus atrocity. not only does it contain their most archetypal hit ("get off my cloud"), my all-time fave waxing by them (cover of larry williams' "she said yeah" that was widely imitated by teenage yanks in its time) and a coupla live cuts that wipe the floor with anything on got live if you want it (hell, for that matter, on get yer ya-ya's out), there are a buncha jagger-richards compositions from the period when they were _just starting_ to chase the rubber soul-era beatles, before they had the balls to release an alb of _all 'riginals_ that included a song ("goin' home") that's like _nine fuckin' minutes_ of dick dagger jerking off on himself. (better nine minutes than _30 fuckin' yrs_, but hey...) in other words, the end of an era.
oh well. time to go to the wreck room and hear the great tyrant.
on a trip to half price books the other day, i unearthed a coupla gems: pristine vinyl copies of jerry lee lewis' old tyme country music (on sun!) and the rolling stones' december's children (and everybody's).
in stranded, greil marcus claims that the lewis is actually from jerry lee's audition tape for sam phillips. to these feedback-scorched ears, the recording quality sounds a little too clear to support that, but whatevah: as proof positive that the killer could sing the memphis phone book, or a passel of yr grandmaw's folkbound faves and make 'em sound like a soundtrack fer sinnin' (not a consideration to be taken lightly by a country boy like jerry lee, who had the fundamentalist fire 'n' brimstone drilled into him as a lad in louisiana), it can't be beat. i can listen to it endlessly.
as for the stones, as much as i loathe what they've become in later yrs (since, i dunno, say right after exile on main st.: "my grandparents went to see the rolling stones and all i got was this #$%?&! t-shirt"), i love this alb in the same way as i love having a rave up with the yardbirds, and not just for the influence they both had on the nuggets-era 'meercun teen-snot bands. whoever the hacks were at london records that compiled albs like thisun and flowers from assorted detritus ("real" album leftovers, e.p.'s, b-sides), they knew their stuff better 'n, say, the hacks at decca responsible for the who's magic bus atrocity. not only does it contain their most archetypal hit ("get off my cloud"), my all-time fave waxing by them (cover of larry williams' "she said yeah" that was widely imitated by teenage yanks in its time) and a coupla live cuts that wipe the floor with anything on got live if you want it (hell, for that matter, on get yer ya-ya's out), there are a buncha jagger-richards compositions from the period when they were _just starting_ to chase the rubber soul-era beatles, before they had the balls to release an alb of _all 'riginals_ that included a song ("goin' home") that's like _nine fuckin' minutes_ of dick dagger jerking off on himself. (better nine minutes than _30 fuckin' yrs_, but hey...) in other words, the end of an era.
oh well. time to go to the wreck room and hear the great tyrant.
posted by stashdauber at 6:12 PM
2 Comments:
i argee, "... mainstreet" WAS the last worthwhile stones record.
never a huge fan, but dug their early muddy waters' rip off sound VERY much. there's still many legendary cuts on "12x5" and
"aftermath," among others, so i won't write 'em off completely. still see them as a pretty silly band.
when they were on, the stones were amazing. when they weren't, well... i think it goes without saying (*cough* "beast of burden" *cough*)
Refreshing. Have not heard the Voidoids mentioned in quite some time. Might just have to pop that LP on this morning before work. Unfortunately. I do not own 'Blank Generation.' Actually, that's quite odd. Just never bought it when it was around. The one I have is called 'Destiny Street.' Still good stuff.
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