RetroLowFi

Records On Random : 006 : The Who "Who's Next"

Well folks, it's been awhile since we randomized a classic record here at RetroLowFi. I think that our last experiment featuring Pink Floyd's A Saucerful Of Secrets probably set such a high benchmark that I'm terrified of making a previously sacred cow less than holy. But, whatever... all I'm doing is putting a CD on shuffle mode to see what transpires. Nothing too life changing, right?

Nope, I'm gonna challenge myself today. The Who is my favorite rock band of all time, period. I think very few facets of their career, (prior to 1982), can be improved upon in any way whatsoever, but today I'm going to put Who's Next on random to see if the album still holds up. I'm a little worried because not only is this record FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE in it's regular order, but everything is perfectly paced. But, what the hell. Here goes nuthin'...

01. Behind Blue Eyes: All right. Imagine it's been two years since The Who tore your head off with Tommy. The only peep you've heard from them since has been the straight-ahead 1970single called "The Seeker". The first notes you hear on this long awaited slab are... really gentle? Beautiful harmonies, but you're confused. Where's the stompin' power chords? Oh, there they are. The distorted second half of "Behind Blue Eyes" is the ultimate in rock dynamics. Surprisingly excellent opener we've got here.

02. Won't Get Fooled Again: FUCK YES. You'd think that this song couldn't work anywhere but at the close of side two, but.. no way. Totally makes you want to get up and start playing air guitar all over your house. I'm just nervous as to how the 'shuffle' function plans to follow this up. This isn't just some really good rock song, this may be THE greatest rock and roll song ever written here. The best guitar histrionics, an underlying bassline to end all underlying basslines, the most inventive synthesizer work that anyone had ever come up with in 1971, and let's not forget... the greatest scream in all of rock history. I don't know how we're gonna do after this, but so far, I'm impressed.

03. Love Ain't For Keeping: Holy crap! It's working out!! This laid back country rocker is really the only thing that could've followed "Won't Get Fooled Again". Perfect transition and everything. I should note that this song gets overlooked far too often... "Love Ain't For Keeping" deserves just as much classic rock radio play as "Behind Blue Eyes", dammit.

04. Gettin' In Tune: A great song, but a bit of a letdown after that opening trifecta. The issue mostly lies in the transition between the previous song's closing guitar doodle and the unmistakable piano intro of "Gettin' In Tune". However, due to vinyl's time constraints, this is where side one would probably have to come to an end... and this is a great side closer. So far, so good.

05. My Wife: Pretty good start to side two. John Entwistle's Who songs are usually passed over, but what can you expect when John's silly song about infidelity is sitting next to "Wont Get Fooled Again"? Regardless, it's a good tune with some tasteful brass at the end and it's working just fine where it is.

06. Baba O'Riley: Nah, that seque didn't work very well at all. It's sad too, because this one is super powerful. You know, the great synth intro, the lyrics about fields that would sound dumb coming from anyone else... just didn't work after the stick-in-the-mud rock of "My Wife". Usually it's forgivable if there are some mid-album doldrums, but not when you're dealing with the reason classic rock radio exists.

07. Bargain: I'm surprised at how well this song works on side two, and thank god it does because I nearly scrapped this entire edition of Records On Random after the "My Wife"/"Baba" debacle. And you know, a lot of people think this is just a silly bombastic "i'm gonna get that chick in bed no matter what it takes" type of song. Nope. It's about searching for God. Dag, yo.

08. Goin' Mobile: Ah, good on ya! This bouncy track came in at just the right time for some lighthearted fun. Contains the best synthesized guitar solo I can think of at this ungodly hour. Seriously, why can't I just sleep like a normal person? I take melatonin every day like I'm supposed to, but it never really regulates me. Sometimes I sleep for three hours a night, other times I'm out for fifteen hours at a time. It gets really old and it hinders my functionality. Oh, and god forbid if you wake me up after a bad night of sleep. I'll come after you like Todd Bridges on speed. It'll be all fists and elbows, and you'll wish you never even knew me. Um... back to the album.

09. The Song Is Over: Not a great transition, and while the title might tell you otherwise, this really isn't much of a way to end the record. A bit too soft after all we've experienced here. Heck, some debate over how much this track deserves to be on Who's Next to begin with. They might be right... the outtake "Pure & Easy" probably would have made a lot more sense in it's place, but it's not like anyone actively dislikes this song. It's just the weakest track.

So, there you have it. My verdict on this experiment? A resounding "meh". It certainly had it's moments, but certain records just shouldn't be fucked with.

Please enjoy this footage of The Who blowing The Stones off the stage on The Rolling Stones Rock And Roll Circus.

Say Hi To Your Mom “Impeccable Blahs” (Euphobia/Rebel Group 2006)

On Say Hi To Your Mom’s previous records, the albums included a central idea, but they weren’t restrained to that single idea. For the most part, the albums were about robots. And occasionally outer space. But mostly robots.

The songs were fun to sing along to in the car on the way home from work. Sure, some of the lyrics were a little hokey, but you could get over it. “Let’s Talk About Spaceships” off of Numbers and Mumbles was ridiculously endearing (“Let’s talk about spaceships, about anything except you and me”). Vocalist Eric Elbogen sounded desperate as he sang those words, and you believed him.

I don’t believe a damn word he sings on Impeccable Blahs.

I don't blame content on this one. For the record, Impeccable Blahs is almost entirely about vampires. “Not as Goth as They Say We Are” is about how vampires just like to dress in black, drive fast cars, and dance. “Sweet Sweet Heartkiller” is about being in love with a vampire girl. More than likely, the songs are metaphors for how difficult and alienating the dating world can be. If that’s the case, these are pretty decently written songs with some pretty interesting ideas. The problem is that I can’t find enough to grab on to, and the record doesn’t offer much help.

There’s nothing technically wrong with Say Hi to Your Mom’s music itself. It’s catchy and dancey as hell, as synth lines and guitars create structurally decent indie-pop tunes. It’s just the way this music comes across to the listener that makes this stops this album from being great.

It’s not that the lyrics are terrible either (although if you do want to win dorks' hearts, make a Star Trek reference better than "Resistance is Futile." LAME.). Lines such as “but have you ever seen a good zombie movie? Well, like that, but you'll be smarter and you'll stay twenty-three” are pretty decent. So is “And [she] has a blog where she predicts brand new indie rock hits. And she's normal and shy like the rest of us, she just happens to date the Prince of Darkness.” So it’s not the fault of the lyrics.

Mostly, vocalist Eric Elbogen just seems insincere as he references ice cream cones, puppies, robots, space and Scrabble. You’d think that it would be easy to be sincere. These things are great amounts of fun, so it makes sense that the listener could sense the joy, however buried beneath, through the vocals. After all, many of the songs are extraordinarily upbeat in terms of musicality.

To be fair, Elbogen stretches his voice a little more than usual, as evidenced in a single word he shouts out in “Snowcones and Puppies.” His voice is a little warbly, which conceivably should give it character, but it still sounds like he either just woke up or just doesn't care. On every other song, he uses this exact same tonality. Given that repetition, I just don't believe a word he sings. Since he doesn’t care, why should we?

The juxtaposition of withdrawn vocals versus energetic music can certainly create an interesting contrast, but I don't believe that Say Hi To Your Mom got the desired effect. I get that the record may have intended to show that there can be light when vampires are looking for your bedroom, but it didn't work this time. That notion is sad, as Say Hi To Your Mom succeeded in that idea on previous records.

Musically, there’s not a good reason to dislike this record (aside from that it just might not be for you). It’s a decent indie-pop record with good melodies and respectable lyrics. It’s just that Elbogen’s delivery makes it boring to listen to. It seems that the record's title is pretty accurate.

Say Hi To Your Mom – Snowcones and Puppies.mp3
Say Hi To Your Mom – Sad, But Endearingly So.mp3
Say Hi To Your Mom – Angels and Darlas.mp3
Buy Say Hi To Your Mom records at Sayhitoyourmom.com

Tracey Ullman "They Dont Know"

According to the UK's Melody Maker, Tracey Ullman's early eighties albums sounded "somewhere between Minnie Mouse and The Supremes", and that ain't a bad comparison. Her pop stylings were pure fluff and even Tracey herself doesn't seem to think about her songstress days all that much. But it's true, before the United States knew her from her TV shows, she was churning out singles left and right. While they haven't aged very well, Tracey Ullman can lay claim to one major musical coup: she sang what is possibly the best pop single of all time.

"They Don't Know" was written by Kirsty MacColl, but only Ullman could give it the proper voice and attitude. The song is largely forgotten nowadays, but it's everything a pop song could ever aspire to be. Please, give this long dormant track from Tracey Ullman's You Broke My Heart In 17 Places LP another chance. I mean, you do like brilliance... right?

I'm From Barcelona "Let Me Introduce My Friends" (Dolores, 2006)

As much as record reviewers and indie yuppies like to compain about the coverage on PitchforkMedia, you can't ignore their tastemaking impact. Most of us still read the site daily, even though we all like to take the site to task for their opinions - even if we somewhat agree. Often times they'll sing the praises of some group we're not gonna care about in six months, and considering that they routinely give great albums unbelievably low scores based on personal bias against the artists, (like Evan Dando's Baby, I'm Bored getting a 3.6 even though the review mostly fixates on his drug usage), or they'll compare a group to someone they have nothing in common with to make every indie kid drop everything to buy it, (i.e.: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah getting compared to Tom Waits). We know that they're cuckoo for collectives, and there's a good chance that if you're from Canada, you're heading right into their Best New Music column... well, besides the last Metric album. Imagine my surprise when they went apeshit over I'm From Barcelona... and they really do rule! Awright!

There's almost thirty people in this Swedish outfit. They seem to use every instrument ever made. They write pop songs that will make you pledge your allegiance to the Coalition of Independent Music Stores. Frankly, their first full-length, Let Me Introduce My Friends, is the reason that people like me obsessively collect records: you're never expecting to find that gem you're gonna play until the grooves wear out, but when you do it's like the second coming of electricity.

It's lush, it's big but not too big, the songs stick in your head but not in an overtly "hey, this is the chorus" sort of way, and every small nuance is perfectly placed. Seriously, getting three or four people in a band to work towards a common goal is hard enough, but... enough members to filla small club before the audience arrives? All on the same page? This might be one of the great musical mysteries of our lifetime, kiddo.

Dig the mixtape-as-life lyrics of "Rec & Play"! Marvel at one of the best singalong hooks of the year in "Oversleeping"! Tell all your friends about the wonderful horn/xylophone syncopation during "We're From Barcelona"! Just don't overlook Let Me Introduce My Friends. It's the kind of pop record you play on your way to see another bands concert, all the while wishing you were going to see I'm From Barcelona instead. Seriously.

Buy the album @ I'm From Barcelona's official site
I'm From Barcelona - We're From Barcelona.mp3
I'm From Barcelona - Rec & Play.mp3

I Am Robot And Proud "The Electricity In Your House Wants To Sing" (Darla, 2006)

I am reviewer and bored.

Ok, maybe that was a bit harsh, and frankly, too damn obvious, but I feel obliged to call 'em like I see 'em. The Electricity In Your House Wants To Sing falls into the fledgling IDM genre, which stands for 'intelligent dance music'. And folks, that's about as fitting a tag as you'll ever find for a style of music.

Now, dance music in general isn't very intelligent. Not because the lyrics are usually stupid and mindless, but because it's made to get your foot a-tappin... not because Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam, Prodigy, Chic or anyone else ever associated with 'dance music' wanted to make you think in the least. What's wrong with that? I'll tell you what: nothing. As David Byrne once said: "Music itself doesn't make sense. Often the body understands it before the head does". He's so fucking right that I can't believe his quote hasn't been emblazoned on a billion sweaters and bumper stickers by now.

So why does I Am Robot And Proud consider their brand of dance music more intelligent than, say, C+C Music Factory? I dunno. Maybe because it's not as annoying and shrill? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the more you have to think about what you're listening to, the less you're gonna dance to it. So, the entire genre that IARAP lives in is one huge oxymoron... music made for dancing that you can't possibly dance to. Your feet want to move, but they can't because your head is too busy trying to make sense of what is going on. Way to shoot yourself in the foot.

So, it doesn't get you up and moving, there are no lyrics to get you scratching your head, the beats aren't terribly driving so even if you really wanted to throw this on at a club between Postal Service and Gnarls Barkley, it'd just be a good time to sit and have a drink. Instead the music on The Electricity In Your House Wants To Sing just sort of floats into the background unobtrusively. I've played the album three times now trying to find something to latch onto, but the soothing sounds of Shaw-Han Liem's laptop just come across as a very, very long commercial that's trying entirely too hard to sound hip. It makes me want to go to sleep, really.

Now, it could just be that I don't feel well, or even the fact that I don't like 'dance music' by definition, but really... don't sell me an album for twelve dollars that creates the same effect as not listening to anything at all. I can do that for free, thank you.

Hear MP3 samples/purchase at darla.com

Asobi Seksu "Citrus" (Friendly Fire Recordings 2006)

Before anything is said, it should be noted that the band's appellation, Asobi Seksu, is loosely translated from Japanese to mean "playful sex." At first, the name seems awkward, as it doesn't seem to fit the album's dreampop aesthetic. But the name is actually quite fitting. Think about how dynamic sex truly is – the fact that it can be so intense that you need to sleep for the next week afterward. Or that it can be so violent (in a good way) that orgasm becomes emotional before becoming physical. Or that flipping each other around can so much fun that you forget all sense of time and space. Or that it can be so soothing that it creates a sanctuary. That range is precisely what Citrus evokes.

On Citrus, Asobi Seksu has accomplished a pretty, poppy shoegazing record. The band relies heavily on the tactics of their influences – the warbling and distorted guitars of Loop and My Bloody Valentine – but this time, it uses Yuki Chikudate's voice as an additional instrument. In certain moments, her voice is serene and soothing, and in other moments, it is painfully high and shrill. The result is, as many shoegazing/ambient albums are, something both comforting and startling, but certainly beautiful to listen to.

If anything, Asobi Seksu succeed in creating emotion. At many points, Citrus feels so stimulating and peaceful that it sounds like watching a sunrise. At other moments, it feel scared and fragile just after terrifying you with crashing drums and deafening guitars. The sense of emotion is certainly abated by the way Chikudate's voice dances around the guitars.

This idea is furthered by the fact that half of the lyrics are in Japanese, thereby simultaneously intriguing and alienating, oh, only everyone who doesn't speak Japanese. The songs in English mention themes of love and loss, but again, they seem intended to be part of the sound and are not to be interpreted any specific way. In a sense, however, the nothingness of the lyrics coils into the dense sound to form a space where it doesn't matter what the Chikudate is singing. Quite simply, it's easy to get lost in Citrus's hazy milieu.

As per individual songs, the more ambient the songs tend to be, the more interchangeable they become. The stand-out tracks seem to be the ones that embrace new New Wave moreso than shoegazing. While "Pink Cloud Tracing Paper" could very well be a contemporary Cure song, "Thursday" is a step away from being an Interpol song. Songs "New Years" and "Goodbye" use dancey bass lines and jangly rhythms yet still retain the lush soundscapes and definitive vocals. Whatever the territory, hipsters are dancing their asses off and doing that spiral-y arm thing they all do.

Just as the name "Asobi Seksu" indicates, Citrus certainly could be a decent album to pull a loved one's hair to. Listening to it while imbibing chemical refreshments is probably not the worst idea either.

Asobi Seksu - New Years.mp3
Asobi Seksu - Thursday.mp3
Buy Citrus at Friendly Fire Recordings

The Thermals "The Body, The Blood, The Machine" (Sub Pop 2006)

I have been with The Thermals since the beginning. I loved More Parts Per Million before it even came out, saw them on their first tour, had my life changed by their live performance (still the greatest I've ever seen, honestly), and proceeded to play More Parts Per Million on repeat for the entire summer of 2003. It was the only cassette in my car (I had dubbed it onto both sides of the tape), so it was literally almost all I listened to.

So, here I am now at their third record. And no matter how much I like the sound of the first album, this album is different. It is still The Thermals, but it is a shift in the sound fans are used to. Gone is the basement, "two microphones... maybe" ethics of the More Parts Per Million. Gone, even, is the live-in-the-studio, "what are overdubs?" approach of Fuckin' A. Whether you can hear it immediately or not, this is a different Thermals.

This difference, however, is more out of necessity than a conscious decision to change. The change may have come anyhow, but the departure of drummer Jordan Hudson right before the recording of The Body, The Blood, The Machine made these changes happen before they may have occurred naturally. So, with Kathy and Hutch left to record all the instruments, the album marks the band's first foray into the dark, often frightening world of multi-tracking. The Thermals use it to their advantage and don't overdo it with their suddenly unlimited sonic opportunities, but it does make for a different overall sound from the band's previous work. Like it or not, the old Thermals are just never coming back.

Now, all that being said, with all disclaimers and explanations made clear, this album is fucking amazing. The band makes their first jump into the world of concept albums, as well (at least in theme), delivering to the world a pretty amazing criticism of religion and how it's basically fucking everything up. They attempted it on the last record with "God And Country," but any random song from this record trumps that one (an already fantastic song) in every department. I won't delve too much more into the record's message, as it's probably best to discover it all for yourself and interpret it your own way. But, somehow, Hutch makes what he is singing as personal as it is universal. Thematically, it's a major accomplishment.

Hutch Harris is not only a great front man of a great band, he is one of the finest songwriters alive, and I say that with absolutely no exaggeration whatsoever. "But I still have faith," he sings on "Returning To The Fold," "if I ever had faith." It's the kind of lyric that seems nonsensical, even lazy, on paper. But, when it's delivered, it's absolutely shattering, like Bette Davis' famous line in All About Eve: "Everybody has a heart. Except some people." Once you get it, you understand exactly what he's trying to say.

His songwriting style is truly like no other. Fans of his cut-up, fist pumping stanzas from the past will find the same Hutch here. He's just more focused. There are points, especially in the middle section of the album, where the songs literally sound like they could have been written by John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats. Hutch sings with the same urgency and the same volume (even at the same timbre, at times) as Darnielle does at his most intense and spastic, and while you could tell Hutch has meant what he sang in the past, this time around, he actually feels like what like it could be important.

I don't mean to ignore Kathy, bassist for the group, as this truly is her finest outing so far. She frequently ventures outside of the bottom root note and brings melodies and harmonies into the mix that you're not expecting, at times when you're not expecting them. Despite losing the three-member sound, everyone involved is at the absolute top of their game.

For some Thermals fans, this record might be something they need some time adjusting to. Half the record is less than or equal to the speed of "Remember Today," but that isn't to say it doesn't rock. Let's just say, taking a cue from Hutch and Bette, it sometimes rocks softly at a very loud volume. The last four tracks (or the third act, as the album almost seems neatly divided into three distinct sections) may provide the biggest challenge to longtime listeners, but tune in and give it a few spins. You will get it before too long.

You may not dance to this album like you do to More Parts Per Million, but maybe you're not supposed to. Hutch and The Thermals really seem to be trying to tell you something here and, without getting too far into my own religious and political beliefs, the message they bring is extremely important to this country and to the world. It's going to take more than just a band from Portland to solve all our problems, but, you know, come on. At least they're fucking trying.

The Thermals - A Pillar of Salt.mp3
The Thermals @ MySpace
Buy The Body, The Blood, The Machine at Sub Pop

In Defense Of : 005 : Belinda Carlisle's Belinda (1986)

NOTICE: To anyone that will not take what I'm about to say about Belinda Carlisle's first solo record seriously, I invite you to look at your own music collection and remember how valid you think all of your own guilty pleasures are. We at RetroLowFi are not ashamed of any albums in our collection, (except for maybe Tori Amo's To Venus And Back, Yes's Big Generator and The Meat Puppet's Golden Lies, which some of us only own for completists sake), and we couldn't care less about 'indie cred'. Said cred is not redeemable for anything of value, and besides... this album uses the same twelve notes that most popular American music is based around. It ain't that far removed, so save your snickering and read.

I'll admit without batting and eye that I'm a big fan of The Go-Go's. I have all of their albums and a few bootlegs. I've seen them in concert without irony, and I'll continue to check out any of their endeavors. They're a great and valid pop band, and I dare you to find a reason why I should think otherwise. But if there has ever been a prime example of a group that equals more than the sum of it's parts... they are it. I've gotten absolutely zero pleasure from most of their solo/side projects, and hell... I didn't even enjoy my seeing my childhood crush Belinda Carlisle nude in Playboy. (Besides, didn't all that airbrushing tickle her?). But one album stands apart from that mold... Belinda Carlisle's Belinda.

Yeah, it's cheesy. And the production is about as cringeworthy and dated as you'd imagine, but there's a lot more going on here than an initial listen will offer.

In 1984, Belinda Carlisle had more drugs in her system than a collected pool of Pete Dougherty and Evan Dando's urine. She looked bad, wasn't singing very well, her band was in shambles...etc. If ever there were a case of 'too much too soon', Carlisle was the poster gal. After the inevitable Go-Go's split, Belinda promised a solo record and resolved to get clean. But, let's be realistic here. It's not as if Belinda was harboring some skills that she hadn't been allowed to share with the world in her former band. As a matter of fact, she was easily the least impressive Go-Go by a long-shot. She could kinda sing, danced just enough to qualify as a frontwoman, and... well, that's about it. I mean, beyond her songwriting credits on Go-Go's songs at that point, (which one can count on Mickey Mouse's fingers), Belinda couldn't even offer that she had something to say on a solo record. But something went horribly right in the recording process...

Producer Michael Lloyd assembled the most optimistic backing band I've ever heard in my life for the sessions. What they lacked in diversity and dynamics, they made up for with synths and beats straight out of every roller-rink in the country. One has to imagine that these session folks were picked long before anyone had even decided what songs would be going on the album, because most of these tunes center around heartbreak, frustration, distance, loneliness and flat-out ambivalence. One can imagine that these songs were phoned in to the session to reflect the mood and attitude of Carlisle at the moment. The disconnection of the subject matter from the musicians makes for one of the most asymmetrical pop records of the eighties. Considering that half of the tunes were supplied by fellow Go-Go Charlotte Caffey, I highly doubt this was by accident. Imagine the juxtaposition of Belinda's effervescent and bubbly public image against her internal struggle to kick hard drugs, and... hell, you don't even need to hear this album. Consider lyrics like:

"Today I woke up by myself / I hit the streets and wondered what I should do / I never noticed from the start / That I could feel alive again" from "I Feel The Magic"

"All the things I used to do / Don't seem to mean much anymore / Every face and every place were lost along the way" from "From The Heart"

Yeah, not exactly rainbows and kittens farting glitter, is it? Hell, when the most optimistic and positive song on the record is a cover of Freda Payne's heartbreaking "Band Of Gold", this isn't exactly the dance party album of the year, no matter what the hired hands in the backing band try to convince you of.

Belinda was promoted by a tour, some videos featuring Carlisle looking every bit as prissy as you remember, a #3 hit called "Mad About You" and then ... nothing. Hell, the album has been in print roughly three times for less than a year apiece. Someone, somewhere really doesn't want you to remember this album and I wouldn't be surprised if it's Belinda herself. C'mon, who wants to remember the year they kicked drugs and made a solo record that few gave a damn about? Heck, try to even find a tune from this album on any of her jillion 'best of' compilations, which are a joke in themselves. Carlisle has had roughly three sizeable hits in the US, and chooses to ignore one of them (i.e. "Mad About You) in favor of tripe from any number of unsuccessful comeback records? Way to be a historical revisionist.

Whatever.

I find this album alternately fascinating and heartwrenching. If you don't have a sweet tooth for long-lost eighties pop, don't bother buying that used copy on eBay for a dime. I like it, and there's a good number of people that never forgot this release no matter how many times history has tried to paint over it's existence.

As a side note: if I've gotten any of this information incorrect, then maybe the powers-that-be oughta offer a bit more biographical information than a turgid Wikipedia entry that offers a four sentence paragraph about this period in Belinda's career, eh?