What's New?: 6.10.2012

Lots to talk about. Let's go!

Japan — Obscure Alternatives (1978)
 
Japan was still a copycat act at this point.  And although this album bares little resemblance to the greasy funk rock of their debut (released eight months previous to this), they are still pretty far from being anything except followers.  Just have a look at the cover and it's obvious they're still trying to be glam punkers.  Where Adolescent Sex filled up its creative shortcomings with funk indulgences, Obscure Alternatives just flails in all directions.  Slimey faux reggae, stock new wave and even a synth-obsessed glance at where they were headed.  It's too much on one plate, but what's there is at least worth checking out if you're a fan.  I skipped this one because I didn't think it was essential after checking out some previews years ago.  But, I can honestly say now, it's a good album just to consider if you're a fan of the band.  It's a transitional album, so it's a mixed mess, but it does have its moments.  This remastered and expanded edition of the album from 2006 features four live tracks, one of which is a stunning early through of 'In Vogue' that finds Japan as the band they would soon come to be appearing fully formed for the first time.  A good album that bridges the gap between the early, more rockin' outfit and the later, sophisticated and reserved incarnation of the band.

Japan — Quiet Life (1979) 

Simply put: one of the most impressive musical evolutions ever.  In just under two years, they literally went from being borderline embarrassing in their copycat ways to being innovators.  The title track asserts this album's place in history immediately.  It's so ahead of its time that people still lump it in with the hits of the 80's (see what I did there?).  Otherwise, it's all here.  Chilly post-punk?  Check.  Spacey ghost funk?  You know it.  A new wave era remake of a classic?  Present.  I mean, sheesh, this album is good.  And they only got better from here!  This, again, is the remastered and expanded edition from 2006.  The bonus tracks are mostly disappointing as three-quarters of them are simply single mixes of album tracks (two of those being back to back versions of 'All Tomorrow's Parties' —grrrrrr!).  However, the other track is the very Tin Drum-esque b-side, 'A Foreign Place' so all is forgiven.  I seriously can't recommend this album enough.  As a huge David Sylvian fan in general and especially a fan of what came immediately after this album, I really have no excuse for not having this one around previously.

The Feelies — Time for a Witness (1991)

I'm gonna write a song called 'Ode to the Feelies' and it's gonna go like this: "Ooohhh, the Feelies / They kick ass! / Ooohhh, the Feelies / Do please ask / About the Feelies / Because now your task / Is to get the Feelies / In your memory, fast!"  I love them that much.  This album has eluded me for even longer than Crazy Rhythms did.  So, I said to myself, "Self, I've had enough of not having the entire Feelies discography!"  And she responded, "Do whatever, man.  Just make yourself happy."  So, I paid a little more than I probably should have, but you know what?  It's not like there's tons of bands that have released five albums, but have never made a bad song.  But the Feelies can lay claim to this honor.  Time for a Witness, what most must have taken for being the band's last album ever (until this happened), is simultaneously the band's poppiest and their most rockin' affair.  Side two is preferable for me, as it's quite reminiscent of the Good Earth.  But the whole thing is good.  Jangly, weirdly poppy, classic awkwardness and everything.  Check out the jammy 'Find a Way' and then take a step back and realize that it was the Feelies that just did that (and then get blown away).  'Invitation' is pure jangle pop bliss, while their cover of 'Real Cool Time' proves that they could actually rock out the whole time.  The fuckin' Feelies, man.  Kings.

George Harrison — Dark Horse (1974)
 
I guarantee, if nobody knew about George's throat issues at the time, nobody would say anything about the vocals on this album.  It's polished and classy, that's for sure.  And that sums up George's solo career, actually.  There's no absence of sheen on any of these albums, but the songs are all really genuine.  It's unfortunate that this album has now been classified as the album George did when his voice was suffering because it actually has gems.  'So Sad', in fact, should probably be considered amongst his best songs (Beatles or otherwise).  The bitter revision of 'Bye Bye Love' gets by solely on vibe (seriously, look up the history of that thing) while side two features the soft rock hidden gem 'Far East Man' (another one of George's best, actually).  Very nice music.  No shortage of tunes.

George Harrison — Extra Texture (1975)

This one starts off with 'You', which sounds almost like an All Things Must Pass outtake.  And I should say that this is probably my favorite George album, outside of that album.  This one is very slowly paced, but there remains an acoustic strummy base to all the songs and it strikes me as the one album that George made in the 70's where he was actually happy with the results.  'This Guitar Can't Keep From Crying' is a brilliant sequel, while 'World of Stone' is the sort of furrowed brow, deep thinking ballad that I expected from him the whole time.  Really strong stuff, for overproduced soft rock.  And, even without that arguably derogatory tag, it's still pretty good.

George Harrison — 33 and 1/3 (1976)

George ventures even further into studioland on this one.  Like I said earlier, the songs are still good, but whether or not you can notice that depends on how much patience you have for late 70's studio sheen.  For example, if you can understand that if the keyboards in 'Dear One' were scaled back a bit, it would damn near be a masterpiece, then you will get a lot out of this album.  'Learning How to Love You' is another good one in this vein.  Overall, the album sounds pretty good while it's playing, but doesn't leave much of an impression afterwords.

George Harrison — George Harrison (1979)
 
And it's more of the same here, but the songs are just a little more catchy, honestly.  First track 'Love Comes to Everyone' is so earnest, I have a hard time not liking it (please excuse the synthesizer solos, however).  'Here Comes the Moon' (another sequel) is just lovely, if you ask me, while 'Dark Sweet Lady' is so genuine and good, my inner soft rock nerd is giddy whenever I play it (and it has a harp!).  And, furthermore, the segue into 'Your Love is Forever' (officially one of George's best, actually) is just magical.  Darn good stuff, if you're already into in the first place.  And the last song being 'If You Believe' is just appropriate beyond comprehension, isn't it?

George Harrison — Somewhere in England (1981)

And one last overproduced noble failure from George.  It has 'All Those Years Ago' which was a hit and which I knew rather well when I was a kid (the things one forgets!).  Overall, there seems even less of what made his past albums somewhat charming present here.  'Writing's on the Wall' reminds me of the overproduced, earnest George I love, but not much else here is worth more than one listen for anyone except diehards.

The Trypes — Music for Neighbors (1983/1984)

I can't even begin to describe the rush I get from listening to this music.  Feelies affiliation or no, I am so into this band.  Granted, nobody would even have paid attention to them without Glenn Mercer or Bill Million's involvement, but it blew my mind to learn that this band, as a working unit, actually predated the Feelies.  The only recorded documents of the band under this name just happened to occur when members of the Feelies were in the group.  As a document of a group of friends getting together and screwing around, it's pretty entertaining.  As a piece of Americana and documenting one of the more fascinating evolutions in musical growth (in contemporary terms), it's priceless.  Acute Records is to be commended for their efforts.  Although this album appears as an anonymous slate brown spine in the above scan, everything else is handled with excellent care in this gorgeous package.  This compilation documents the band's only official release at the time with a bunch of extras.  'From the (Morning Glories)' is just unbelievably good.  The original version of 'The Undertow' (which the Feelies would redo a couple years later) is here among the initial output, while 'A Plan, Revised' comes along and just blows everything in its path away, very quietly.  Seriously, that thing is just godlike.  They're like a darker, more serious version of Shrimp Boat.  Jangly, 60's-obsessed (two Beatles covers!) and not afraid of noise or just rocking out, it's a document of a band that should have been more than just a sub-footnote.  Yeah, it's about time some of these previously only regionally heard American bands come forward and get their due acclaim.  Just absolutely and thoroughly brilliant.  Get this album immediately.  Help yourself to some free downloads in the meantime.

~Austin

The Feelies — Here Before

Sometimes, when things just work, they work. You notice similarities, maybe even repetitions, but why complain about fixing something that clearly isn't broken?

Enter Glenn Mercer after the last song: "Thanks a lot. We're the Feelies."

I mean, sheesh, just a warning up front: I don't have a lot to say about this album, but I have absolutely no doubts in my mind that anyone who loved albums two (the Good Earth), three (Only Life) and four (Time for a Witness) by these guys will put this new one on and not be saying to themselves by the third track, 'Why'd you wait so damn long!'

Because it makes sense that —besides the fact that this is the exact same lineup that has played on all of the band's albums except Crazy Rhythms— this sounds like it came out just a few years after Time for a Witness. In the best possible way, too. Because nobody creates those beautiful layers of pure jangle with out of key, isolated weirdo lyrics on top like the Feelies do it.

The brilliantly titled Here Before is just the fifth Feelies album in just over thirty years of existence. As someone who became aware of them in the early 2000's and gave up looking for any of their increasingly hard to find albums a few years later, I was blown away in 2009 by the proper reissues of the band's first two albums. Both albums struck me as really timeless and I was genuinely surprised at how well they fit in with everything else I was into at the time; contemporary or not.

So, it makes sense that a band that has such a grasp on such a timeless sound could reunite twenty years after their previous album and sound just as assured, just as enduring and —most of all— just as great as they ever did in their initial run.

True, if you've heard any of the second, third or fourth Feelies albums, you're in for no surprises on Here Before. But, with R.E.M. having a midlife crisis the size of an entire county and the Ocean Blue likely disbanded for good this time, isn't it just plain old wonderful and life-affirming to hear one of the definitive American jangle bands bang one out, in classic style, like it was 1988? I say an enthusiastic yes.

And jeesh, is it just me, or is there like three or four songs on this thing that sound like Good Earth outtakes?

Songs like 'Should Be Gone' (harmony vocals!!), 'Morning Comes', 'Again Today' (pedal steel!!???!!) and 'Bluer Skies' sound straight from the band's classic period and this starts to be less of a, "Hey, let's reunite for old time's sake" sort of album and more like a, "We can make a real statement with a new album" set.

Meditative jangle.

They've quickly become one of my favorite bands of all time since the reissues a couple years ago, but after studying through their back catalogue and really properly listening to everything with pure open ears and appreciation can I really hear this new album the way I do now. It's a really awesome thing to hear Glenn's guitar tone at the beginning of 'On and On' perfectly recreate the tone heard on 'Slipping (Into Something)' and it somehow feels redemptive. Like this is what the band was building to all along: a new album of completely old ideas after twenty years of silence that, at once, proves to everyone once and for all that they were (or rather, ARE) top tier songwriters and tuned into a fresh and undying sound all along.

Really fantastic stuff.

~Austin

My top five most underrated and overlooked Jangle masterpieces.

I find that, as a fan of primarily new wave based rock music, the jangle scene is the one that has become the most rewarding to me. Excellent, but sparse, guitar playing and singers who are more interested in the overall vibe of the song, as opposed to stealing the show with their vocal performance. The bottom line though is: all of these bands were inspired chiefly by good melodies and, when you get down to it, writing the best pop song they could.

From the late 80's, into the early 90's, the scene was huge. Bands were intermingling and somebody would be Madchester for a few things, trip hop the next and then just a plain old hard rock act in the long run (hi, Stones Roses), all the while retaining somewhat of a jangly backdrop. So, I guess what I should say right off the bat here is that to describe any music as 'jangle' proposes an undefined thing right away.

So, for my definition, I'd say that, to me, 'jangle' means very little distortion, if any. And, if there is some, it's in that My Bloody Valentine/Slowdive/Shoegaze way that, while noisy, it's still pretty. And, ultimately, there's nothing more to the music than to just write a classic resonating pop song. Just, pure, guitar based accessibility.

And, let's just say right now, I do not make this list with any pretense of being a guru. Although I do fancy myself somewhat of a jangle nerd, I also realize I have a lot to learn. I would love your own list or any recommendations.

And, one more bit: all of these albums are incredibly good. I would at least consider all of them for a spot in my favorites of all time. They're all five star albums, easily. It was genuinely hard for me to pick their ranking order (outside of my #1 pick, which was a no-brainer) and I still have a bit of an issue with the running order. But it's the best I could do with a tough decision.

Finally, one last prologue: the influence of the Smiths over all of this music cannot be overstated.

So, countdown style, let's get into it.

5. The Feelies — The Good Earth (1986)

A slow, meditative affair. Peter Buck produced and sounding downright stately on their seemingly never coming second album, the Feelies put together arguably the first non-R.E.M. album of American jangle that was truly about the album. No real big apparent singles to be found (in fact, the album's catchiest song —'Slipping (Into Something)'— was also its most radio-unfriendly at six minutes in length). If someone were to listen to Crazy Rhythms and then this album back to back, it would be a bit confusing. But then, look at the years of release and it would probably feel like the most logical and amazing progression ever. When 'On the Roof' begins, it just feels like the most natural, most awesome side/one track evolution on a second album. It just follows, nearly relentlessly, with nine tracks of acoustic based strum and, overall, what has to be the most unwilling pop albums ever created. The vocals are mixed in defiantly low and the songs avoid choruses like they'd never been invented yet, but underneath it all is a melodic urge. Like the pop in these songs had to be suppressed. Pete Buck is also to be commended for his time-defying production. Even on some R.E.M. stuff you can hear the dated drum EQ'ing. But not here. When Glen Mercer sings, "It's gonna rise and carry us home" on 'The High Road,' it sounds to me like pure propaganda to the listener, in an attempt to get the listener to take the album completely to heart and just let it burn from beginning to end and soak in every last bit until it touches your soul. If that is the case, that's some effective stuff that totally works on me. A shout for the recent reissue, as it adds some great covers (of the Beatles and Neil Young) from b-sides of the time period.

4. The Wake — Here Comes Everybody (1985)

A notorious whore for Factory and Northern bands in general, I owe it to the undeniably good LTM label for making me aware of the Wake. Admittedly, I'm a noob: I found out about the band through Caesar's involvement in the Occasional Keepers but if Bob Wratten can co-sign somebody's talent, surely they're worth delving into. And delve, I did. Indeed, the Wake was certainly a stock Factory band at the outset (in a good way), but they have slowly opened up and, thanks to LTM's downright awesome reissue campaign, I've discovered one of the greatest 'forgotten' bands of the post-punk era. Holy mother, is this album just about the biggest forgotten piece of proto-90's indie pop British greatness ever or what? This came out on freakin' Factory, too!! Sweet hey-zeus, I love this album! Ok, sorry for all of that... Now that I've calmed down, I have to say: it's awesome. It's like New Order, but without the baggage. Certainly, Barnie and the boys have an influence that looms large over this album, but it's not like Caesar and the band are just copying every move in their playbook. It feels less like sheer imitation and more like a band trying to outdo their inspirations. After 'Blue Monday', those other Factory boys surely had a big weight on their shoulders to deliver more dance-pop hits, but the Wake had next to no anticipation, so if they took the dreamy synth/jangle cue proposed on some of the second New Order album's tracks, can you really blame them? New Order released Low-Life the same year as this album and while that is definitely an album I love and admire greatly, I'd say Here Comes Everybody has it beat within the first half. By the time this thing hits 'Melancholy Man', you'll be wondering if it will ever dip in quality (the answer is no). The stark, tan-on-white color scheme of the cover art is perfectly suited to the music. It's a wash of dreamy mini epics, with synth patches taking the harmonies and awesomely understated jangly arpeggios taking the unassuming lead. Make no mistakes, there is a definite formula here, but it's so unique when you consider the context that it just doesn't matter. The big clue here that the band was not just a New Order ripoff —besides the actual coherence of the songs— is the bass. Low in the mix and simply playing the root, it's just another layer in the seemingly endless bands of dreaminess. All eight songs are pure pop greatness. Three minutes short or seven minutes long, nothing is ever squandered and not a single second is wasted. When an album kicks off with an absolute gem on the level of 'O Pamela,' you know something's up. The surprisingly dark title track really makes things clear on this album: it's completely soul-bearing in Caesar's lyrics (not that you would ever know it from the way they're mixed in so low). This album is simply godlike. Another shout for the deluxe edition being the definitive, if for nothing else than that it adds the band's essential single from 1984, 'Talk About the Past' (featuring Vini Reilly on piano, so get your copies of Another Setting out for reference).

3. The Railway Children — Reunion Wilderness (1987)

Also released on Factory, inexplicably in 1987, the Railway Children must have faced the worst NME reviews for being the biggest Smiths ripoff ever. And yeah, those first few listens into this album might find any self-respecting Morrissey/Marr fan very cynical of 'A Gentle Sound,' but just let the needle spin past that first track (which you may even like after getting to know the album) and it'll become immediately clear that there's something completely different about these Wigan boys. It's almost as if Gary Newby thinks he's Otis Redding at some points (fyi: re-contextualize that for a jangle setting and realize that he's not exactly a pseudo-soul grunting whiteboy, but he's actually got very real emotion in his timbre). After the immediate highlight of 'Another Town,' the majority of side one presents a group of downright appealing Smiths ripoffs. However, the last track on side one is 'History Burns.' A somewhat funky (??!!) and just plain old relatable pop song is an eyebrow-raiser, to say the least. Turn the record and you're greeted by a xylophone. No, seriously. It morphs into a bass-led thing that may not seem that impressive at first. But, wait. That middle eight arpeggio, what's he's hinting at? Then, the glorious chorus enters and good god DAMN. Can you say, 'highlight'? What matters? What really doesn't matter? Dude, does it matter when you write songs this good? It all becomes so vague. Quite. Another thing called 'Careful' follows it up with another similarly-misleadingly 'ok' verse and then 'OH SHIT!' amazing chorus and it doesn't even feel like a surprise at that point. Just like, 'Yeah... this album is that good.' Like you knew it all along. So much... but not enough: a telling lyric as the Children went Hollywood after this album and churned out albums of faceless, sub-Madchester corporate rock. But... whoo, is Reunion Wilderness amazing. Check that photo: somebody paid 89¢ for it. . .

2. The Ocean Blue — Beneath the Rhythm and Sound (1993)

My love of this album has already been well documented on this blog. If anything, writing that post rekindled my love of the album after a period of kind of forgetting about it. In the past year, it's only grown ever larger in stature for me. The uber-pop of 'Sublime' and the pièce de résistance 'Bliss is Unaware' (I'm now convinced this is one of the greatest songs ever written) melting in with the partly shoegazey elements of 'Either/Or' and 'Don't Believe Everything You Hear' and the sincerely great ballads 'Crash' and 'Emotions Ring' all makes for one of the most nostalgically awesome 90's albums ever recorded. Truly one of the best of the 90's decade and easily in my top albums of all time. If the Wake is godlike, then this has to be equated with time-traveling levels of unknown, omnipotent awesomeness. If not awesomer.

1. Riverside — One (1993)
And it's fitting that not only was this album produced by then Ocean Blue-ist Steve Lau, but it's title is actually One. I don't even know where to start. Being that this is a list of underrated and overlooked albums, I couldn't do anything except put this at the top spot. There was nothing at the time that sounded like it because everyone had gone grunge and the rock (and even indie) landscape was not concerned with Britain any longer. Also hailing from Pennsylvania (like the Ocean Blue), the band was fronted by brothers Glen and Keith Kochanowicz (now shortened to Kochan) and it should make sense that the band kicked ass because Glen was the bassist and lead singer (are any of them not awesome?). I guess a quick description of this album would be the Ocean Blue with a bit more of a shoegaze influence. I mean, listen to the screeching feedback and hushed vocals of 'General Nature' and that would seem just fine. But there's something else at play here. Look at those guys on the cover photo. Do they not look like a prototype Backstreet Boys? What the hell is going on here?! 'Cinnamon Eyes' sounds vaguely Happy Mondays-ish, no? But what's with all these incredible hooks? Are these guys serious? The answer is yes. They are that good and they are more than ready to create one of the best albums ever. Amidst every single killer track and unbelievable chord change is that reverby, echoey wonderful jangle. If Beneath the Rhythm and Sound is very nostalgically 90's sounding, then One is the quintessential early 90's non-grunge guitar album. It's like it takes everything great about American and British jangle and summarizes it all into one ten-song, fourty minute album that perfectly encapsulates and simultaneously trumps all of it, in one magnificently gorgeous swoop.

~Austin