Genesis - The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway

Welcome to a very special edition of "Sounds from the Cave." As many of you know, my friend Trevor used to be my roommate, and he left a couple boxes of old LPs in my basement when he moved out. After he found out about my new blog column, Trevor suggested that I dig through his records and feature something from his collection. So that is exactly what I am doing for this week's post. Think of it as "Sounds from the Cave: Mad City Edition."
I chose Genesis's The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway because it'd been an album that I'd heard good things about but had never actually heard. It is widely considered to be one of the great albums of the 70's, but despite my many years of music listening, Lamb somehow always managed to elude me. I guess you could say that it was my white whale. I mean that literally- the album cover is white, and it's massive: four sides of epic progressive rock, with elaborate cover art to match. So why did I avoid listening to it for so long? For one thing, my earliest memories of Genesis are of the 80's Invisible Touch-era band. I hated that stuff so much that I pretty much swore off listening to them ever again. The other thing is my general disinterest in progressive rock, which is the musical style that Genesis played on Lamb. Don't get me wrong- I do like rock music that is artistic and inventive, but sometimes progressive rock just sounds too pretentious to me. There's also a vague Dungeons & Dragons vibe that I get from listening to it, which is not a good thing in my book (although I will admit that Rush were one of the first bands I ever liked).
Well, I've decided to confront my fears and dive head first into this so-called masterpiece. So what is this album all about? It is, in a word, fancy. There are fancy song structures. There are fancy time signatures. And there are fancy lyrics which create a complex narrative throughout the whole album. It is the quintessential rock opera. And after listening to it once all the way through, I can say that I enjoyed it. Quite a bit, actually. I could even imagine liking it more with repeated listens. That hasn't happened yet - this record is freaking long, people - so time will tell if this record ends up spending much time on my turntable. But one thing's for sure- this band used to be pretty damn weird, which makes it all the more puzzling that they ended up being Top 40 pop stars in the 80's. I'm still trying to figure out how a band that started out like this eventually ended up like this. Anyway, here's a selection from Lamb:

Hiatt's Rule

What's the deal with John Hiatt? He's sort of the anti-Lyle Lovett: so normal-looking that it's hard to imagine him playing rock 'n roll. And the truth is, his music is just as boring as you would expect. Just remember "Hiatt's Rule": Never listen to music made by someone who looks like a mid-level office manager. Ah, never mind...

The Legendary Joao Gilberto

Hello, and welcome to another edition of "Sounds from the Cave." Before we begin, I would like to offer an apology of sorts. As you recall from my last post, I said some rather mean things about Lyle Lovett, the basic message being that he is overrated. This is a bit unfair, since I haven't really listened to him that much. I'm sure he's probably a really nice guy, and I will admit that he's got a great voice. But I still stand by what I said. Like Leon Redbone before him, he belongs in the musical dustbin of freaks and curiosities. What I do regret about my post is the crack I made in the comments section implying that my parents (and old people in general) have terrible taste in music. There is a kernel of truth to this, since I typically do not like the same music as my parents. But there are some big exceptions, the most obvious of which is the subject of this week's post.

Today I'm going to talk about Joao Gilberto. He is the Brazilian singer/guitarist who, along with the composer Antonio Carlos Jobim, basically invented the musical genre known as bossa nova. You probably know the song "The Girl from Ipanema" (sung by Joao's wife, Astrud); it's the song that started the bossa nova craze in the 60's and spawned countless cheesy tunes heard in elevators all over the world. What you probably haven't heard are the earliest bossa nova recordings, which were made by Joao in the late 50's and eventually compiled on a fantastic CD called The Legendary Joao Gilberto. The songs on this disc represent the purest (and best) examples of the form, and many of them have since become standards. Joao's jazzy guitar chords and ultra-mellow singing make for some of the most relaxing music ever recorded; even my mom likes this stuff. It's a shame, then, that this CD is no longer in print (which is why I've included it in "Sounds from the Cave"). But you can probably find a copy at your local public library, so it's definitely worth checking out. Your mama would be proud.

Don't Lovett

Hello friends,

I'm taking a break today from my "Sounds from the Cave" series to talk about a subject that's really been bugging me lately. The subject is this: Lyle Lovett. Specifically, I would like to know why this guy is famous. He's a good enough singer, I guess, but his songs are totally unmemorable. If you saw him in "Short Cuts", then you know how limited his range is as an actor. So what, exactly, is so special about Lyle Lovett? Here's my theory: people are intrigued by his weird face and hair. And that's all. They think that someone who is that strange-looking must have artistic talent. But ask yourself this question: If Lyle Lovett looked like Mr. Joe Average, would people still listen to his music? I doubt it. Now, I will admit that I have only heard a few of his songs, but the ones I did hear sounded like nothing more than generic bar-band material. It's the sort of stuff that I imagine middle-aged couples listening to when they're drinking margaritas out on the deck. But is it possible that I'm missing something here? Does he actually have some great songs that I haven't heard? If you are a fan, I would like to hear from you. To use a phrase that Mr. Lovett probably knows all too well, I'm all ears.

Kiwi Rock

I know exactly two things about New Zealand. The first, obviously, is hobbits. The country is overrun with these furry-footed creatures. According to recent statistics, there are seven hobbits for every human in New Zealand, and they play a significant role in the country's economy. Hobbit fur is used to make Snuggies (a major NZ export), and their urine is harvested to make the local delicacy known as Marmite. The second thing I know about New Zealand is Flying Nun Records. Back in the 80's, there was a vibrant indie rock scene in New Zealand, and Flying Nun was the label that documented it. The bands on this label played catchy, lo-fi guitar pop, a sharp contrast to the hardcore and post-punk sounds being made in the U.S. at the time; it wasn't long before American bands heard this music and became influenced by it.
There were a ton of great bands on Flying Nun, but two of the better ones were the Clean and the Verlaines. Both bands made their best music at the beginning of the 80's, and these early recordings were eventually compiled on two classic LP's: the Clean's Compilation, and the Verlaine's Juvenilia. The former was upbeat and whimsical, while the latter was more romantic and folky. Both were full of great tunes and are worth hearing for anyone interested in the history of underground rock.

The Clean:

The Verlaines:

Neil Young - Time Fades Away

I am a huge Neil Young fan. His music was the soundtrack for innumerable road trips during my college days. I would even go so far as to say that I worship him like a god. In fact, I think everyone should set aside three hours every Sunday to sit down and listen to his albums. His name should be included in the Pledge of Allegiance, despite his Canadian citizenship. When you are faced with a tough decision, you should ask yourself, "What would Neil Young do?" His music will guide you to a better place, and for this we should all bow down and show him our utmost respect.

If there is a phase of Neil's career that I find particularly noteworthy, it would be the years 1973-1979. It was during this time that he released what I consider to be his best albums. The first of these was Time Fades Away. This album was unique in the sense that it was recorded live but consisted of entirely new songs. More importantly, however, it introduced a significant change in Neil's musical direction. The new songs were darker, more personal, and played in a much looser style than his earlier recordings. And of course, the songwriting was top-notch: rowdy rockers and fragile ballads, all of them essential listening. So it's a shame that this record was never reissued on CD. It's hard to imagine how this could be, especially with such a popular musical artist. Apparently, Neil Young himself was never totally thrilled with the album and has since prohibited his record label from reissuing it. To this I can only reply: KISS MY ASS, NEIL. Because your fans deserve better than that. They deserve to hear every note you played during those golden years. Sure, you can coast on your success and keep writing songs about electric cars and rapper jeans, but nobody really cares about that crap. In the meantime, I'll just have to listen to my worn-out copy of Time Fades Away and try to imagine what it sounds like without all the pops and scratches. And you can too:

Feedtime - Shovel

Sometimes simpler is better. Like, I'll occasionally go to a restaurant and just order a hamburger, even if there are more exotic things on the menu. Don't get me wrong, I have an amazingly refined palate and do enjoy a good gourmet meal from time to time. But I can tell you from experience that a plate of free-range dolphin sashimi just doesn't satisfy in the same way that a big ol' greasy burger does. Which bring us to this week's record.

Feedtime were a noise rock band from Australia who were active during the 1980's. They took the basic sound of punk, slowed it down, and simplified it even further. No solos, no choruses, just two or three chords repeated over and over. The point was to be as raw and direct as possible. Not that you'd expect anything different from these guys: the back cover shows pictures of the band members, one of whom is sporting a mullet and the other two looking like they just got released from prison (there's also a picture of a dog, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't play any instruments). But what they lacked in complexity they made up for in feeling. Underneath the noise was a primitive blues sound which made the music seem more genuine than other bands of the era. Unfortunately, most of their records remain out of print, but you can hear a sample from one of them here: