My Favourite Songs - Part VIII

For weeks and weeks, I've had the same little bunch of songs pop into my head frequently, and I'm talking like more than a few times per day. It wasn't because I'd been listening to them a lot, so I guess there is just something special about these tunes that has locked them into my mind's playlist and freed them lately.

Edgar Winter Group rockin' out in the 70's

To begin with, Free Ride by Edgar Winter Group has been the foremost of the songs that repeatedly sneaks into my mental music playlist. I have no idea why. I haven't heard it anywhere in recent times, not on radio, on CD, records, streaming, anywhere. In fact, this wasn't a song I knew at all for many decades. But I'm pretty sure I heard it in some movie set in the 70's, probably quite a while ago. And the summer pop-rock perfection of the song really sank in and stuck. I hear a little Doobie Brothers and Eagles in there, plus something unique to Winter's sound. Those "ooo ooo's" are the cherry on top. The beautiful summery weather lately has put me in the mood for fun, happy music like this. And this led me to finally purchase my first Edgar Winter album - on vinyl - so I could enjoy this song and other classics any ol' time I want.

The Bitch is Back by Elton John goes way, way back for me. This appeared on one of the first records I bought as a young record collector, ol' Elton's (well, young then) Greatest Hits Volume II. That crazy slightly overdriven rhythm guitar, the punchy horn section, and Elton sneering those wacky, cool lyrics - decades later, I still love it. Super catchy melodies and a rich deep recording really give this a kick. The guitar tone is awesome, a fine polish on the tasty licks that give the song even more depth. I always have fond memories when I hear this old Elton classic.

Matte Kudasai by King Crimson has swirled around the edges of my mind ever since I first heard it back in the late 80's. I had the song on a CD compilation years ago, and more recently picked up the KC album Discipline, on which Matte Kudasai first appeared. I had a little trouble appreciating most Crimson music from day one, but have more recently come around. Yet... this particular song really resonated with me from first listen. A thing of beauty, this gentle pop ballad by a band known more for their prog-noise-rock. I could listen to this any time, regardless of my mood.

Girls Got Rhythm by AC/DC. That riff! These famous Aussie rockers were/are kings of the riff, and here's yet another banger that makes me wanna air guitar and holler along with dear Bon (RIP). That urgent, bluesy hard rock core sets off the headbanger in me every time. Definitely one of my fave AC/DC songs, energetic and raunchy and prepared to party. 

I Can See For Miles by The Who was a prototype for heavy metal if there ever was one. That big chugging guitar and bass sound, as simple as it is, lays down a devastating booming bottom end while Mr. Moon frantically bashes every drum and cymbal in his kit. Then on top of all that mayhem are the angelic vocal harmonies and smooth Daltrey verses. That contrast is significant in the success of the song. The energy, power, and excitement of Miles stands the test of time and still, to me, represents all that was and is great about The Who.

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This is blog post #499... what on Earth will happen in the milestone next post ???

The Rock World Loses Another Legend - Alan White

Last week I learned that Alan White, drummer extraordinaire, passed away at age 72.  That made me pause because as a long-time Yes fan, I knew much of his work with the band. Yes has had many, many talented musicians within its ranks during its existence since 1968. Though White wasn't the only drummer to play with Yes, he did spend the most time behind the kit. He was the longest-remaining member in the band, never leaving, and playing right up until his death. During all of those decades, Yes was a revolving door of players, many leaving, returning, and so on. Yet ol' Alan kept on.

Alan White, during the classic Yes years of the 70s

Quite the storied career there, especially when you look at the other famed artists he worked with: John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band (playing live in concert and on most of the Imagine album), George Harrison, Joe Cocker, Gary Wright, Ginger Baker's Air Force, and The Ventures. That's just a sampling, since he performed on over 50 albums by various musicians.

I was inspired to listen to my favourite Yes song yesterday. Turn of the Century appeared on the Going For the One album (my fave Yes album, by the way) in 1977. I've always been fond of the gentle, emotional story and the lush, intimate instrumentation. Curiously, White barely plays on the track... and yet he co-wrote the song and played a large role in developing its vocal melodies and chord structure. Turn of the Century seems completely devoid of percussion until the latter portion of the song, where White plays mostly timpani, a type of kettledrum, more commonly used in orchestras. This choice of instrument adds to the building drama of the song. I feel like this is the most beautiful piece of music Yes ever composed. I always get a little misty while listening to it. And I never even knew until this past week that White played a major role in developing the track.

White was still active in the band 'til the end, appearing on their 2021 album The Quest. While his style of playing differed from that of original line-up drummer Bill Bruford, who came from a jazz background, his distinctive rock approach defined Yes's progressive sound. Such a loss to the music world. RIP, Mr. White.

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This is blog post #498.... getting closer to the big 500!

New Additions to the Record Shelf

After a long spell with no new music (on physical format, that is), I got a couple of goodies in the mail this week. It's about bloody time.

More than a month ago, I pre-ordered the vinyl LP of Alex Lifeson's new project Envy of None. This arrived just in the nick of time. I was about to go bat-shit crazy, anxiously awaiting this cool new musical offering from the former Rush guitarist. It isn't just Alex's album, though, as he's got some very talented performers on board: Andy Curran, formerly of 80's hard rockers Coney Hatch; Maiah Wynne, a young singer extraordinaire; and guitarist Alfio Annibalini... plus a handful of other contributors on drums and strings.

Maiah Wynne, vocalist of Envy of None

The album title is sort of the name of the "project", this assemblage of musicians and their set of songs. In interviews, they often hesitate to say it is the band's name, as they may or may not consider themselves a band per se. A bit of mystery there. But fingers crossed that they DO write and record again, because I really, really like this collaboration. As the record's hype stickers reads: "...dark, cinematic alt-rock". It is indeed moody, atmospheric music that is suited to late night chillin' with the headphones on.

Lifeson's guitar seems to be barely present, with only one guitar solo I can remember on the whole disc. Yet in interviews, Alex reveals that he wanted to create an ethereal, atmospheric sonic wash of sounds, something he explored a bit in Rush's lighter, electronics-laden music of the 80's, only here the guitar is so processed that it is barely recognizable. And yet I love the feel of it all. The bass (by Curran) is mixed very up-front and it's easy to enjoy his proficient and melodic style, nothing flashy, yet perfectly aligned with the other elements. Maiah is an up-and-coming vocalist, with chops beyond her years, and I can't wait to hear more from her. 

Overall, Envy of None the album is a beautiful blend of alternative, experimental and alt-rock or even pop. Even though Liar and Look Inside were the advance singles (both great, I should add), it is the instant radio hit (in my opinion) Never Said I Love You that leaps to the fore. There isn't a dull song on here. It's a consistently great album from start to finish, and it works best when digested as a whole. Catchy hooks and wonderful melodic sense somehow strike a balance with the often dark and moody material, some of which borders on edgier styles like industrial. A sort of art-rock album. Love it.

My other recent mail order purchase was an imported Japanese CD copy of the 1989 Voivod album entitled Nothingface. It's rather hard to track down at a reasonable price, but I was happy to find this "deal". I put this album off far, far too long. I have owned a digital download for more than a few years, but never really warmed to it. Only one song grabbed me, and it first did so upon the album's initial release in '89 (when I saw the "new" music video on TV)... it was Astronomy Domine, a cover of the early Pink Floyd tune. Voivod metallized the track, modernizing it for those of us unfamiliar with the original version. I've always liked Astronomy, but the rest of Nothingface... meh. I put that down to the fact that Voivod had toned down their sound for this album, and it always felt kind of limp and soft compared to their earlier thrash classics, and even other metal of the day. But fast forward to 2022, and I find I'm digging it like never before. When I'm not in the mood for the band's noiser, more chaotic music, I can easily put on Nothingface and enjoy its lighter sounding, sci-fi themed progressive hard rock. I can now appreciate the album properly and understand how this won the band mainstream success, or at least a sort of boost in their exposure, as small as that would be for such a marginalized band and genre. With a cleaner guitar tone and a lack of wall of noise, guitarist Piggy conveys a different vibe from other Voivod albums. A more palatable, sort of jazzy feel emerges in his angular riffing and soloing and his out-there chord voicings. Drummer Away is easier to pick out of the mix, too, his fascinating drum patterns driving the music in new ways. The Nothingface album... also a winner.

So, something new and something old. There IS great music out there... you just have to dig a bit to find it. Rock out, music fans!

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This is blog post #497... a milestone approaches!

The Director's Chair - Part III - Terence Young

It's been a long time since I last wrote about a favourite film director. Though I have a fair-sized list of faves, today it somehow felt like a no-brainer that I'd talk about Terence Young of James Bond fame. Young's contribution to the 007 franchise was no small feat. He was on board right from the start, at the helm for half of the fledgling series' seminal 1960's releases.

Terence Young, having a proper spot of tea on set, with a

couple of hack actors looking on

Young, of Irish descent, was born in Shanghai, China, then returned with his family to the UK, where he studied in London and Cambridge. He began movie screenwriting in the late 1930's. His first credit as a director was for Corridor of Mirrors (1948), which happened to be Christopher Lee's first film appearance. Young directed a variety of movies (none of which I've seen) throughout the 50's, and it was his 1962 adaptation of Ian Fleming's novel Dr. No that would make him a much sought after craftsman in the industry. 

Dr. No the film, while slightly altered from Fleming's 1958 story, presents relative newcomer Sean Connery as the true James Bond, as he should be on screen. Terence Young took the small budget allotted to the project and expertly spun it into a highly influential spy thriller. Unlike subsequent Bond movies, this one centred around a single exotic location, Jamaica. That saved the studio money on airfare. Dr. No introduced many elements that would become part of the Bond formula in the subsequent films: Bond first seen through the gun barrel in the intro, the stylized main title sequence, the theme music, and the overall visual style that would be retained throughout the series.

The casting of Connery was a stroke of genius, of course, but the faces of actors Ursula Andress, Jack Lord, and Bernard Lee ensured Dr. No would be a hit. Terence Young gave Connery a fatherly education in how to conduct himself in the Bond role, resulting in the cultivated, commanding, charismatic, sometimes brutal master agent that we all came to know and love.

Dr. No was a hit, so Young was offered the chair yet again for the follow-up From Russia With Love. This met with even greater success, especially considering the super tight schedule... it was rushed and released the next year, in '63. From Russia involved more air travel than Dr. No, shooting in Turkey, Scotland, Switzerland, Venice, Spain, and Pinewood Studios, resulting in production going over budget and schedule. Most of the crew from Dr. No returned for From Russia With Love. One notable addition was John Barry to compose the film's music. Barry remained on the 007 staff until 1987, scoring eleven of the films in the series. His work remains the gold standard in the history of the franchise, and in spy movies in general.

From Russia introduced even more key components to the world of cinematic James Bond: the pre-title sequence, the villainous character Blofeld, the gadget-master character Q as played by Desmond Llewelyn (who remained for all but one Bond movie until his death in 1999), fun yet deadly gadgets for Bond, a helicopter sequence, a theme song with lyrics, and more, more, more. Heaven for a Bond fan. Young co-ordinated this magical time of invention that would define the 007 adventures and those of imitators. The movie received awards from BAFTA and BSC for its cinematography, and a Golden Globe nomination for Best Original Song.  

Young was offered the third Bond installment, Goldfinger, but he passed, opting to work on an historical comedy instead. He did return for the massive 1965 hit Thunderball, which even today stands as the second most financially successfull entry of the entire series. It won an Academy Award for Best Visual Effects. Though Thunderball was plagued by legal disputes, those were headaches reserved for the executives, not Young. He again engineered a hit, with most filming done in the Bahamas, and a bit in France. A variety of complex and dangerous stunts and effects gave the film a realism that was at times hair-raising for the actors and crew. As reward for their trials, the team (the film) received many award nominations, plus a couple of wins, including another Academy Award for Visual Effects.

During the rest of the 60's and into the 70's, Young directed mostly European films, scoring another hit with 1967 thriller Wait Until Dark, which impressed me. The long-time Bond production team offered Young the director postion again in the early 80's, but he declined. He continued directing until the late 80's, and passed away in '94.

It's clear I've seen precious few of Young's three dozen-plus movies, but his impact on the world of my beloved James Bond remains untouched. He brought an eye for detail, ingenuity, dedication, perseverence - all manner of directorial talents really, plus his screenwriting skills to his duties on the earliest James Bond classics.

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For more discussion about my favourite directors, have a look at my introductory post here, then its follow-up posts at: The Director's Chair - Part I - Robert Wise, and The Director's Chair - Part II - Denis Villeneuve.

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This is post #496... the big 500 is looming.

Songs I Hate By Bands I Love

Don't you hate it when a band you love creates a song that you just can't stand? It happens. Sometimes the musicians have an idea that they think is unique and cool and "Why not?". This can work sometimes, but there is always the potential for it to crash and burn. The worst is when you are enjoying an album by your favourite artist and smack dab in the middle of that glorious set of music is a song that makes you cringe. And you've just gotta skip that track - upon every listen, because it's so insufferable.

Really? Dave Mustaine makes a bad decision,

not for the first - or last - time.

For example, for me, The Beatles were and still are the primo rock-pop band of all time. I love a lot of their music and like pretty much the rest of it. But there's the odd song that brings a frown to my face. Why Don't We Do It in the Road? Why did you guys have to record such an awful tune? There are hardly any lyrics at all... just the song title repeated over and over and over, with a few other words thrown in for kicks. Sounds like an improvised goofball lark... which never should have made it onto any proper album. Droning, unimaginative, plodding piano and drums do nothing for me. The quiet out-of-tune-sounding guitar noodling in the background does nothing to help. I normally like McCartney's singing voice, from full-bodied crooning to powerful screams, but on this track, he just sounds like an angry drunk howling for change on a street corner. In my opinion.

The next song is Neurotica by Rush. This tune doesn't really stick out much within the context of the Presto album, since pretty much the whole record is so low-key and unimpressive. It's a shame, since there are cool little touches here and there. But this track is so completely forgettable that it barely registers at all when you listen to the album. Nothing special going on instrumentally, and Geddy sounds like he's dialing in his vocals, bored with the whole affair. Plus some awkward transitions, especially to the bridge section. And Alex's solo, while usually a spine-chilling foray, feels like a slap-dash effort just patched in at the last moment. It's bland beyond belief. Even Neil's lyrics are repetitive, inane, and uninteresting on any level. Ugh.

Van Halen must have completely lost their minds in a chemical haze when they thought it was a good idea to include a cover of a moldie oldie from 1924 called Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now) on their Diver Down album. The album is, of course, packed with cover songs, but at least they're all rock or pop or something in between. But Big Bad Bill brings the album to a grinding halt in the midst a bunch of fun, up-tempo rockers, the preceding track being the crunchy melodic Little Guitars. It's old-timey music to its core, with light shuffle percussion, dad Van Halen on clarinet, and Dave doing his best vaudeville-style hammy vocals. Silly and maybe a little fun if you've got nothing better to do, but plunked into the middle of an album by the world's greatest rock band (at the time), this kills the mood. Not a terrible song by itself, but it doesn't belong here and I have to hate it for ruining the flow of an album that is pretty darned good despite its fractured conception.

Back when I gave punk music a passing interest, I sort of liked Anarchy in the U.K. by the kings of spit and safety pins, the Sex Pistols. But in the hands of the mighty Megadeth, it becomes a wet noodle... a true weak spot on the band's otherwise tech-thrash reputation. Even the obligatory addition of a metal guitar solo and some double bass fills can't save this poor attempt. How was this ever considered a good decision? Why cover such an already hackneyed song? Mega-Dave and Company injected no suitable energy or snarl (for which Dave is famous, too) into this cover, just dialing it in, I guess, as a last minute addition to meet the album length requirement. A head-scratcher, for sure.

Black Sabbath took some chances during their Ozzy years, and the Technical Ecstasy album drew divided opinions. I haven't even heard the album more than a few times in my life, but I was sort of turned off from first listen. I think I'm appreciating more and more of it as time passes, but the track She's Gone is a tune that feels completely out of place here. Tony plucks acoustic guitar over symphonic strings, while Ozzy emotes on this ballad that robs the album of energy. Five minutes of nothing special just to interrupt a set of blistering rockers. Bah!

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Post # 495 - Countdown to 500!

Books I've Read So Far in 2022

As April winds down, I feel it's a good time to talk a bit about the books I've read so far this year. It hasn't been amazing reading, but I've knocked out a solid eight books, with one now in progress, and one that I got halfway through, then set aside.... and I'm not too sure if I'll get back to it.

Only two of the books (oh, and the unfinished one) were physical paper books, the rest of them e-books. I love the much lower prices (even free, through the library) of e-books, plus I don't have to load up my already crammed bookshelves any further.  

Live Magnetic Air: The Unlikely Saga of the Superlative Max Webster, by Martin Popoff - maybe not as much fun as I expected, but hey, it's the only biography in existence about this little known Canadian rock band of the 1970's. So I got a copy, signed by the author, and will treasure it despite the rambling approach of most of the book. It is very repetitive due to various bandmembers and others recounting the same events over and over, and it didn't read as though an editor had a hand in its construction. Still, nice to have the real story on one of my favourite bands.

Every City Is Every Other City, by John McFetridge - a lightweight little crime novel, not much unlike other detective stuff out there, but it's fun in its own way.

The Redemption of Time, by Baoshu - a fan-fiction novel that somehow got published. A follow-up to the exemplary Three-Body Problem trilogy by Cixin Liu, this has bits of interesting stuff, but ultimately, it was disappointing, even hard to finish.

A Drink Before the War, by Dennis Lehane - my first book by this famed author, and I enjoyed its approach to the private detective duo formula. While not amazing it is certainly a solid story with likable characters (except for the bad guys, of course). First of a series.

Darkness, Take My Hand, by Dennis Lehane - second in the Kenzie & Gennaro crime series (see above), this is again a better than competent investigative tale. Fits the bill for this cloak and dagger fan.

No Country For Old Men, by Cormack McCarthy - I saw the movie many years ago, and was suitably impressed. It was another stretch of time before I discovered the books of ol' Cormack, and even longer 'til I finally got around to the source novel for that creepy movie. His distinctive writing style and knack for building believable characters and settings sets him apart from others. The modern day western never looked so good... even when it's a bad situation.

Faceless Killers, by Henning Mankell - somehow, the Wallander police detective never fell under my radar all these years, but my recent discovery via the prequel TV series led me to the original novels. This 1991 story kicks off the whole world of police detective Kurt Wallander. Loved it... and I have book two on deck. Top notch stuff!

Gridlinked, by Neal Asher - sort of James Bond meets The Matrix. This should grab me, but it doesn't exactly. The extreme amount of sci-fi techno-babble bored me and after sporadic revisits after straying to other books, I gave up on this. I might return to it, but also might not. Could have been a more tightly written novel with emphasis on the action and maybe the characters, too, but it just drags and drags. On hold. Sigh.

Primary Target, by Jack Mars - I can see the appeal of the book's protagonist, though the writing leans toward pulp, kinda rough around the edges, and even slightly cringey at times. Not a master craftsman, the author at least has a decent story and a bit of a clue of how to tell it. It's about a special ops guy called into critical situations that set up high tension action scenes. Not terrible, but I wouldn't recommend it.

Salem's Lot, by Stephen King - though I've read many of King's books over the years, I never got to this, the second novel of his prolific career, until very recently. I'd forgotten just how good this guy was at characterization, storytelling, and just plain writing prose that's worthy of examination. Salem's Lot is a long haul (okay, I'm just over halfway right now), but it's well worth it. Lengthy sections of descriptive details are fascinating, even if they don't advance the story. You just live in that world. I have long been a fan of the TV mini-series (movie on DVD) so I knew I was getting into some eerie vampire stuff here. Cool so far.

The Moon Songs Cycle by Max Webster

 Alrighty... strap yourselves in, Max fans. Today I will talk about the series of moon-related songs that spanned the band's discography. Was it all planned or just an in-joke that wouldn't go away? Whatever the case, these four tunes all rock, and in that trademark wonky, proggy Max Webster way. Let's get started...

Max-tronauts appear calm moments before lift-off

First up is Coming Off the Moon, which appears on the debut self-titled album. Kim Mitchells's fuzzed-out guitar riff announces the track, with laser-light keyboards kicking in, and drums'n'bass propelling the song upward and onward. Bizarro lyrics and vocal harmonies counter the heavy-ish rock sound. Lots of cool and fun guitar licks take this beyond your standard bar band rock. The cryptic words are beyond my comprehension, and yet they perfectly fit the Max musical context. There is mention of "lady luck" and "sky father" and even "wedding bells", so maybe this is in reference to a marriage of some kind, perhaps not of matrimony but of the union of the moon, the skies, and Earth, or some such thing. Your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, a tidy and rockin' tune which is always a pleasure to hear.

Next song please.... In Context of the Moon, from the follow-up album High Class in Borrowed Shoes. This is the quintessential Max album, containing many of the band's best-loved songs. They had worked out the few kinks that might have existed on their first platter, and here we get the songwriting, performance, and production quality all ratcheted up a notch or two. The title track, plus Gravity, Diamonds Diamonds, Oh War!... not to mention the "filler" (no, it ain't filler at all), they all add up to a near-perfect album. In Context of the Moon is no exception. The drumming stands out here, with new guy Mr. McCracken adding urgent creativity to the band's already souped up keys and geetar sound. A chunky riff defines the structure of the song, while keys provide atmosphere and added melody to the proceedings. Wicked guitar solos (yes, more than one!) soar into the stratosphere. The progressive nature of Max emerges strong, with softer passages expertly merged with the heavier components. Lyrics are typically strange, but perhaps there's a romantic angle there, telling a girl she's out of this world. Or maybe it's all just trippy rambling, which may very well have been the case. Puffin'....

Now on to Beyond the Moon, which appears on Max's third album, Mutiny Up My Sleeve. This one approaches epic proportions in its 6:31 runtime, with a suitably progressive bent right out of the gate. Lyrics are weirder than ever, but they're beautiful in their cosmic madness. I think there may be meaning behind the freaked-out words, but I'll be damned if I can figure it out. Just laff and enjoy the ride. The music ranges from soft and ethereal to powerful, searing and heavy, and everything in between. Tempos are all over the place, too. I guess Max thanked label-mates Rush for the influence there. Or Mr. Zappa. Whatever. Musically, this is an experiential journey replete with strung-out solos galore. Whew... I don't think Kim wailed so hard before or after this tune (or album) - ever. A singular occurrence is the fade-out ending that, if you turn up the volume LOUD, reveals the song actually reaching a concluding note. Into the void...

Finally, there is the lyric-less Moon Voices off the A Million Vacations album. Synth-heavy with guitars relegated to supporting role, this, too, is a night flight off-world expedition. Keyboardist Terry Watkinson truly shines on the track, injecting spacey effects into his electro-synthetic mix of melody and broad sound washes. Wordless choral sections build and soar, fueling the mission into the heavens. The song is an instrumental story, effectively shifting from mood to mood, as it jettisons stages to lighten the interspatial payload. Moon Voices is the most compact of the moon song quartet at barely over three minutes. A glorious conclusion.

Houston... we have achieved lunar landing.

Albums I'm Supposed to Like... But I Don't

Some folks think their favourite albums, especially those considered "classics", should appeal to everyone else. Well, I've got news for you, not everyone likes the same stuff, whether it be music, movies, books, food, whatever. And I'm not one of those people who decides I don't like something without ever having checked it out first, basing my decision only on other people's (possibly) more informed opinions. I know for a fact that the albums I'll list below are held in high esteem by the majority of music listeners. Yet even after forcing myself to give repeated listens to these, I simply could not get into them. Or maybe an initial "sort of" liking due to the enthusiasm of a friend will fade rather quickly and I'll realize I don't much like it after all. It happens.

You'd think The Eagles' Desperado album would be super cool judging by the cover photo.

But no. Not for me.

Aja, by Steely Dan: yeah, people rave about it, but I find it so uninteresting compared to the much more varied and fun tunes of the Dan's earlier albums. These songs are so samey, plodding, and sterile. Great musicianship and super slick production don't save these dull compositions for me. Smooth "rock' at its most sleep-inducing, with the exception of Deacon Blues and Peg. Oh well.

Desperado, by The Eagles: this Old West outlaw concept album seemed like a good idea at first glance, but the endless country (and bluegrass?) noodling lost me pretty darned quick. I can enjoy some country rock, but there ain't much (any?) rock here. The title track and Tequila Sunrise are about all I can stomach. Too bad, 'cuz I do like an awful lot of Eagles music elsewhere.

And Justice For All, by Metallica: ugh. Yes, there have been its detractors from day one based on the sound engineering alone. Zero bottom end, no bass, tinny drums, et cetera. But on top of that (and even on the newer bass-enhanced versions), I have trouble with the songs themselves. Something seriously changed in their approach after the epic metal masterpiece Master of Puppets. The drumming is so pared down and uninspired... that huge kit, and this is all Lars will give us? Guitars are reduced to the leanest parts possible. Their songwriting went in a direction where I just could not follow. At least on the next (Black) album, they punched up the tuneship and fattened the sound.

Fear of Music, by Talking Heads: okay, I've always loved their big hits, including Life During Wartime, which appears here. Buuuut... this other stuff, well, it's kinda beyond me. More out there (weird) than I can appreciate. I mean, it took me decades to enjoy some 80's King Crimson, and that's similar to this. When it comes to Byrne and Co., I want more straight-up (a little wonky is okay) pop. Much of this is not that, with the very odd exception, like Paper. Otherwise, it sounds very samey from track to track, with slightly different tempos, but unchanging guitar twanging and plump-plump bass. Other than Wartime, I can live without this. Too bad.

Houses of the Holy, by Led Dirigible: sacriligious to say this, I know, but I cannot enjoy Houses. I guess I did somewhat for a while way back in the late 70's-early 80's when there wasn't much else to compare to Zeppelin. But today (I tried it twice recently) I can't get past Plant's Smurf squeals. The Rain Song is interminable, The Crunge just plain painful. The Song Remains and Over the Hills and The Crunge are cool enough instrumentally, but I have seriously soured on Plant's vocal delivery. Hey, I grew up on this stuff, so it is hard to explain what happened. Just no longer my cup o' tea. 

Triumph - Rock and Roll Machine Documentary

 A little while back, I caught the Triumph documentary Rock and Roll Machine on one of my streaming services. Only weeks later, it appeared on network TV. As soon as I learned about the doc, I was keen to see it ASAP. And I'll tell you why...

Triumph was one of my absolute favourite bands back in the late 70's and early 80's, right after the kings of Canada, Rush, and possibly vying for position with Van Halen and The Police. A friend turned me on to their music, and hearing some of their tunes on rock radio reinforced my interest. When in late 1980, it was announced that Triumph would play a show on the coming New Year's Eve in the big city nearest me, my pal and I made a point of being there. It was a game-changer. My first true concert experience... in a large venue (does the Beatlemania show I saw earlier count?). So my best friend and I reserved our tickets for that evening down the road, and counted the days 'til the big event. More on that here and over here.

Long story short, I was blown away by the big venue experience. Triumph had one of the most impressive high-tech stage shows at the time, with flashpots, explosions, fog effects, and a massive lighting array which included lasers. I was hooked on the whole rock concert thing and this set me off on a long journey into the world of music, attending gigs both small and large.

At one time, I had all of their albums on cassette tape, and then on CD, but as the years wore on, I lost most interest in them (on to heavier pastures with Metallica and Megadeth) and cast off a bunch of my Triumph albums to make room for newer stuff. I do still own a couple of their albums, one on CD (Rock and Roll Machine) and one on vinyl (Just a Game). Good enough.

Fun fact: my ex-wife's uncle, who lived in the Toronto area during Triumph's early days, hung out with the band and even served as their roadie for a time. Before they hit the big-time with arena shows, that is.

Back to the documentary: it gives us a fun and informative overview of Triumph's career, their rise to fame, their unfortunate decline, and slight shuffling of personnel in order to carry on until they packed it in in 1993. A few reunion shows came about in the subsequent decades. Tons of concert and interview footage is fascinating and revealing - and often funny, and I once again felt like a super-fan. After about the mid-80's, after seeing them on their Thunder Seven tour, I sort of forgot about them, or at least stopped following their progress or buying their new releases. I did continue to listen to their earlier work, though they just didn't hold my attention much longer. But this documentary piqued my interest given my nostalgic feelings for the band and their music. And that milestone first concert experience.

So.... if you are a Canadian rock fan of a certain age (or any age, I say), I highly recommend this doc to immerse you in a wave of great nostalgic hard rock, Canuck style. Rock out, roll on...

In the Listening Room

I haven't found much time for proper music listening lately. I might pop on a CD while I cook dinner or something, but to actually sit down and pay attention to what I'm listening to, well, that hasn't happened much in a while. But I'm working at carving out an hour or two on weekends to spin some of my records. Those things I've been working at collecting for the past four years.

A young suave Roy Orbison, shades intact, pluckin' his geetar

This weekend has been pretty good for tunes. I dusted off a couple of records that were given to me about a year ago. They were in a stack of albums, most of which were of great interest. I cleaned up and dedicated some time to those immediately cool ones, but set aside a couple that I was doubtful about. But lo and behold... that old, very rough around the edges copy of The Roy Orbison Collection (on Jukebox Records) plays very nicely and introduced me to some great music. Of course, I knew the biggies on there, like Crying, Oh Pretty Woman, and Only the Lonely, but all those unknowns impressed me, too. My knowledge of Roy's history is pretty much non-existent, but I sort of gather that he was operating in the same era as Elvis on the rock'n'roll timeline, right? And I can hear parallels in Orbison's music. The production, the arrangements, the strings and vocal accompaniments... not unlike Elvis' material. Great songwriting that stands the test of time.

Then I had a hankering for some Styx on vinyl, so I chose Cornerstone (1979), a really strong set of songs that range from the ballad Babe to sleek pop-rocker Lights to the folk-rock of Boat on the River. This was Styx's first Top 5 album in the States, thanks mainly to Babe, which went to #1 on Billboard and was everywhere during my early high school days. It's glossy ear-candy for rockers, and even though I wasn't really a fan back then, I can appreciate it a lot now. Great musicianship and songwriting... stuff that holds up amazingly well today.

I also popped my vinyl copy of the new Voivod album, Synchro Anarchy, on the turntable. While this isn't bowling me over immediately the way their previous recording (The Wake) did, repeated listenings reveal fascinating aspects of the band's creativity. Voivod have morphed themselves several times during their career, from the punk thrash of the first two albums to the technical sci-fi metal of the late 80's, on to stripped down progressive, then a lighter almost radio-friendly sound, then veering back toward their heavier prog-thrash style. The Wake was a true return to form, in my opinion, and Synchro sort of branches off from that, with not quite as big a sound, but amping up the complexity. Loads of apocalyptic sci-fi lyrical meanderings, most of which I can't make head nor tale out of, yet it's engaging and somehow works. That's what Voivod succeeds at.... making their brand of chaos seem perfectly natural. It's not for everyone, but I dig it.

I have Elvis' first album (1956) playing on Youtube as I write this. I'm giving it a couple of test listens to see if this is something I'd like to add to my record collection. While I do enjoy that early roots rock'n'roll vibe and sound, there aren't enough songs that really grab me. Blue Suede Shoes is a given, with a handful of other neat ones. For now, I'll stick with my three vinyl compilations and about five more on CD. At least there's a lot of coverage of his hits plus some slightly lesser known tracks. All timeless classics that I never tire of. All hail The King.