In this installment of WNCW’s “What It Is” host Joe Kendrick, Carol Rifkin and I take it easy and talk about a little summertime music.
BTW, if you’re wondering what’s the 411 on “What It Is”, this post explains it all.
In this installment of WNCW’s “What It Is” host Joe Kendrick, Carol Rifkin and I tackle one my favorite hard rock behemoths from the early 1970s… Humble Pie!
BTW, if you’re wondering what’s the 411 on “What It Is”, this post explains it all.
WNCW is a public radio station based in Spindale, North Carolina, about an hour from my home in Asheville. In terms of wattage and listenership, WNCW is really big and totally adored throughout this part of the country.
“What It is” is the brainchild of deejay and on-air host Joe Kendrick. It’s a panel discussion that consists of a rotating cast of local music writers, musicians, artists and media types who sit around the studio and talk music.
Here’s is WNCW’s description: “What It Is, hosted by Joe Kendrick – airing weekdays around 10:15 a.m. during the Morning Music Mix with Martin Anderson. We believe that if cinema can be larger than life, then music can be life itself. With What It Is, we examine WNCW’s collective musical psyche in educational and (we hope) entertaining sessions that give listeners a few free minutes on the couch. We discuss topics such as all-time great artists, memorable concerts, specific years in music, reviews of new albums, band names both good and bad, holiday themes, and so on.”
I’m blown away that Joe sought me out and asked me to participate. Here’s a big THANK YOU to a cool dude.
Here’s my very first “What It Is” session: The Genre Police.
May 182009
(This feature originally appeared on the Rhapsody Blog. Here’s the accompanying playlist, which you should definitely check out before reading my piece. The inspiration: I keep coming across all this new indie rock, blues and adult alternative stuff that would sound great on classic rock radio. Of course, it’s never going to get played because classic rock radio has been playing the same 100 songs since 1984.)
In the past week, your station has played “Layla” 17 times. Now I love Derek & the Dominoes (Jim Gordon is a total monster behind the kit) as much as the next schmo. But your station’s programming doesn’t make a lick of sense. You call yourselves the “home of rock ‘n’ roll,” yet you’ve been regurgitating the same 100 tracks since 1984. Why not inject some fresh blood into your rotation? C’mon dude, live a little!
This will surely come off as uber presumptuous, but I’ve taken the liberty of putting together a handy-dandy playlist and song-by-song cheat sheet for you to take back to your program director. It is packed with cool young artists whose jams would sound just dynamite alongside titans like Bad Company and Floyd. For example, I’ve been cranking this tune by Susan Tedeschi called “Talking About.” This nuclear-powered sexpot howls like a cross between pre-adult contemporary Bonnie Raitt and Jeff Beck Group-era Rod Stewart. Then there’s this nifty little group from Philly who go by the name Dr. Dog. Their tune “The Ark” has Elton John, Supertramp, Lennon and even old school Hall & Oates tattooed all over it.
Don’t get me wrong: I love your station. You are the only folks in town who still play The Wall in its entirety, and that’s totally awesome. But I just feel like it’s time to hear some new rock ‘n’ rock from the “home of rock ‘n’ roll.” Am I right or what?
1. Susan Tedeschi – “Talking About”
I was just talking about this gnarly babe, whom I worship, if you haven’t noticed. Ha, ha. BTW, whenever you play any Rod it’s almost always one of them overcooked chestnuts off Every Picture Tells a Story. Give it a rest! Why not dust off Jeff Beck’s Truth album. It’s way heavier.
2. Lucero – “I Don’t Wanna Be The One”
These dudes mix roots rock with punk music. Most so-called rock critics consider them alt-country, but that’s a lame phrase for country rock. This tune here reminds me of late ’70s pub rock, back when Tom Petty, Graham Parker, Elvis Costello and Warren Zevon spiced up classic rock with angst and sass.
3. The Hold Steady – “Sequestered in Memphis”
Just about everybody I know compares these guys to the Boss. But I also hear a little Mott the Hoople in there. I like the Hold Steady a lot, though I do wish they sounded more like Thin Lizzy. Y’know, that whole twin guitar thing.
4. Moviola – “Rudy”
Dig that piano and milky-smooth voice. They’re like Jackson Browne or something. This singer-songwriter ballad is very Laurel Canyon. Funny thing, though: Moviola hail from Columbus, Ohio. So go figure, man!
5. Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter – “In the Summertime”
Sure, the first half of this cool song is ’60s folk-rock. But after a while, the Sweet Hereafter shift into Cream/Spirit mode, with dueling axes that work themselves into a sonic frenzy. 420, no doubt.
6. Buffalo Killers – “Leave the Sun Behind”
Easy one: Zeppelin circa IV and Houses of the Holy cut with high-grade West Coast country-rock (if you know what I mean… sniff, sniff). Cranking this hairy anthem while cruising a high school parking lot sounds like fun. Oh wait. That would get me arrested.
7. The Coydogs – “Lost Horse Mine (Pt. 2)”
1980: fresh off Damn the Torpedoes, Tom Petty runs into Crazy Horse at some L.A. bar for cool rockers. Neil is off recording another all-acoustic album (Hawks & Doves), so they’re free to work with this young gun sitting across from them.
8. The Black Keys – “All You Ever Wanted”
Lets get something straight. These modern-day legends from Ohio are classic rock incarnate. There’s no comparing them to anybody but themselves. And that’s just how it is.
9. Donavon Frankenreiter – “Someone’s Something”
This beach bum’s rodent-sized ’stache reeks of Saturday afternoons soaked in rum ‘n’ Cokes. This tune, however, coasts along as if it’s an outtake from Rumours. Maybe Donavon should dress up in “witchy woman” black lace when performing this one live. Now that would be kind of kinky. Heh. Heh.
10. Heartless Bastards – “Hold Your Head High”
See the Black Keys at No. 8. More Buckeye freaks. I mean, really. Is any state more classic rock than Ohio?
11. Dan Auerbach – “Real Desire”
This Ohio thing is getting out of hand. With every gutsy lick and soulful wail, the Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach tries to turn back the calendar to ’71. What a year.
12. Howlin Rain – “Nomads”
The lead singer, Ethan Miller, usually mugs like sweaty Santana in that funny Woodstock flick. But “Nomads” has more of a pre-Joker Steve Miller vibe, a spacey mix of acid rock and folk. Killer organ sound, too.
13. North Mississippi Allstars – “Keep the Devil Down”
Mother Earth could explode into a cloud of cosmic dust at midnight, and Hendrix would still have a rabid fan base. We can’t say the same for disco, now can we?!?
14. The Felice Brothers – “Katie Dear”
Dazed and Confused is mandatory viewing. There is this cool scene when Mitch, Pink and Wooderson enter the Emporium to the sound of Dylan’s “Hurricane.” Richard Linklater could’ve burped up a cliché like “Show Me the Way” or “Jet Airliner,” but the director knew Dylan’s reemergence in the mid-’70s was so classic rock. And I think the Felice Brothers would agree.
15. JJ Grey & Mofro – “She Don’t Know”
Ever heard Joe South? He’s an oldies act, but Deep Purple scored a hit with his song “Hush.” JJ Grey is kind of, sort of like him. S-o-u-l-f-u-l.
16. TK Webb & the Visions – “God Bless the Little Angels”
Every Friday night at 11 you pay homage to freeform radio and spin a 10-minute epic or two. It’s only eight minutes long, but “God Bless the Little Angles” would fit right in. Go for it.
17. The Derek Trucks Band – “Down in the Flood”
Derek is the nephew of Allmans drummer Butch Trucks and the husband of Susan Tedeschi (see No. 1). Need I say more?
18. Mark Lanegan (w/Soulsavers) – “Revival”
Imagine if the Lizard King didn’t flatline in that tub and eventually turned gospel on us. Wow.
19. Marc Broussard – “Hard Knocks”
Broussard dresses all Urban Outfitters, like he’s pals with that wimp John Mayer. But don’t be fooled by the threads. This brassy soul-rocker has spent a lot of time spinning Blood, Sweat and Tears’ Super Hits package, and maybe even the original Chicago Transit Authority album.
20. The Moondoggies – “Long Time Coming”
I’ve read countless comparisons to the Band, but Seattle’s Moondoggies are way more Lowell George and Little Feat — albeit when they were imitating the Band.
21. Wilco – “You Are My Face”
Wilco — whom you have played, like, twice in the last two years — has morphed into soft-rock gods. Dig how Tweedy gets all choked up like some blue-eyed jive daddy in frayed cutoffs and flip-flops. Great stuff when you’re tossing the Frisbee.
22. Dr. Dog – “The Ark”
I talked about these guys in my introduction, but allow me to toss out a few more references: Breakfast in America, “Whatever Gets You Through the Night,” and Abandoned Luncheonette.
23. Arbouretum – “Another Hiding Place”
These moody bastards are the offspring of Neil Young and Richard Thompson. Spin this on “Hangover Sundays.”
24. Ray LaMontagne – “Let It Be Me”
LaMontagne drives The View crowd nuts with his husky croon and “baby, I’m all about you” attitude, all of which he borrowed from the king of Caucasian husk, Stephen Stills.
25. Drive-By Truckers – “3 Dimes Down”
The only band alive that matches the Black Keys in terms of modern classic rock prowess. God bless ’em for it.
Well, that’s about it for now. Thanks for reading, and hopefully the “home of rock ‘n’ roll” can get a fresh coat of paint. 
Your fan through thick and thin,
Justin
PS – You’re always drooling all over Joe Perry, but admit it, he stole his entire schtick from Peter Green!!!
May 182009
I’m proud to have a feature in the new issue of Yeti, which comes out today. It’s a chronicle of the recent collaborations between progressive folk guitarist Jack Rose and the Black Twig Pickers, a killer old time group from the greater Roanoke region of western Virginia. I had a lot of fun writing this piece. Instead of your basic artist profile, I worked in some music history and analysis, as well as a little travel writing. In preparation for the article, I visited several of Appalachia’s mountain folk landmarks, including the wonderful Carter Fold in Hiltons, Virginia. On a related note, I posted a lot of my journey’s notes to my other blog Strawberry Flats. Kindly check that out, too.
I have a feeling Yeti Seven isn’t going to be around forever, so if you want to buy a copy of this super cool publication, go here.
Thanks!
(This feature article originally appeared in the Village Voice.)
This sucks balls, people. One of my all-time faves, the USA Is a Monster, are breaking up.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them. They’ve had an awesome run. But after 10 years, four full-lengths, two EPs, a stack of CD-Rs, and a zillion cold floors around the globe, co-founders Colin Langenus and Tom Hohmann are thirtysomething dudes who crave new adventures. Y’know, the typical stuff: siring children, making a little green for a change, living in the country, recording a double-album fusing quirky country-pop and Rhys Chatham-inspired minimalism.
“The next project Tom undertakes is probably a family,” Langenus speculates from his Greenpoint apartment, where he’s frantically working out details for both the band’s final jaunt across Europe (which will conclude by the time you read this) and something called the “Last Show Ever,” which longtime promoter Todd P is helping put together. Scheduled for May 9, it’s a Last Waltz-like bash, featuring the Monster, nine other bands (Awesome Color included), psychedelic video projections, a couple of DJs, and even a curry dinner.
“I don’t know about Tom, but I have no idea what’s going on May 11,” Langenus adds, sounding a bit overwhelmed. “I don’t even know how I’m going to feel in July. I just know I have a million things to do until this band is done.”
Herein lies the pickle for a selfish, hardcore fan like myself. Sure, an amicable split, as these things are always called, is no doubt a good thing. But, fuck, now is a terrible time for the Monster to retire. It’s not as if the band is some broken-down slugger with bad knees and gimpy wrists. Just the opposite, in fact. The past 12 months have been the group’s most productive season since 2003, back when freak-rock institution Load Records dropped 2003′s Tasheyana Compost, which cemented USA as the coolest prog-noise band this side of Lightning Bolt and Hella.
“Sometimes I really do think a band’s so-called ‘best album’ is merely a product of good timing,” explains Langenus. “I don’t know if it’s our best album, but it’s when we got a little bit of hype. There was media exposure for the first time. But our most cohesive album is probably the latest one, Space Programs.”
Cohesive, to be absolutely frank, is a goddamned understatement. Released last autumn on Load, Space Programs is a major evolutionary leap on just about every level. It is — believe it or not — a pop album, albeit a fantastical one built from gloriously layered vocals, crystalline ornamentation, and melodies that slither like sidewinders across scorching sand. “I’ve become most attached to this last album,” says Load’s Ben McOsker from the label’s homebase in Providence, Rhode Island. “I’ve listened to it more than any of the others. It’s the most interesting songwise. The vocals are so developed. They’re pretty, even.”
Those killer vocals, like the rest of the record, are in part the product of a rediscovered unity. Separating Compost and Space are two other albums: 2005′s Wohaw and 2006′s Sunset at the End of the Industrial Age. Both, as Langenus points out, contain “some of our best tunes.” At the same time, both suffer from fractured-vision syndrome. Hohmann did his thing (sprawling art-rock anthems about Native Americans or cryptic druid jams about naked elves), while Langenus did his (lo-fi folk pop or raw, funk-the-man post-hardcore). “I would write short songs to counter his long songs,” admits Langenus. “And I guess, in a listening way, it didn’t totally work.”
That iteration of USA Is a Monster could’ve never pulled off a song like “Tulsa,” Space Program’s apex. Starting as one of Hohmann’s bubbling rain dances about ancient Indian spirits, the focus seamlessly shifts to Langenus and his guitar’s psychedelic twang, the interstellar offspring of Kurt Kirkwood and Papa Jerry circa ’74. Hohmann then returns, and together, brothers in arms, they melt into a throbbing rock ‘n’ roll drone, from which this surreal incantation emerges: “Sometimes I’m sure/I’m really quite sure/That the obscure images have a great significance/Iceberg tip/The hull of the ship/There’s an awful lot of love that’s got to make a little difference.”
There’s only one minor problem with Space Programs: “We did more on the record than we could ever do live,” admits Hohmann, who provided keyboards and bass pedals along with the usual vocals and drums. “There were no limits to the overdubs.” Yet this was a blessing in disguise. Thinking about pulling the plug as early as spring of last year, the Monster instead decided to recruit fresh blood for touring purposes: synth experts Max Katz (from Miami Nites) and Peter Schuette (from Silk Flowers). In addition to enabling the group to play jams like “Tulsa” onstage, Langenus and Hohmann credit these new bandmates with renewing their purpose, so much so that the quartet is actually in the process of preparing another album.
“Three songs are already recorded,” says Hohmann, super-busy himself. He and his wife, designer Barbara Schauwecker, are preparing for a summertime move from their Bed-Stuy warehouse space to the farmlands of southeastern Michigan. “We have three more new songs that we’re going to polish up in Europe. Then, the week we get back from Europe, we go into the studio.”
Amazing: yet another record. Getting hit with news like this makes it hard to believe that a group this on top of its game would actually call it quits thereafter. Load’s McOsker agrees: “Tom is moving away,” he says. “But they’re not necessarily breaking up — that’s just my hunch.”
Then again, they both sound dead-ass tired of the grimy noise-rock lifestyle. I suppose that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, considering the Monster are busting their asses right before retirement. But there’s no great secret here. It’s quite simple, really. Like Ted Williams, who hit a home run on his very last at-bat, Langenus and Hohmann want to go out on top. Banal? Sure. But have they succeeded? Without question.
(To celebrate Rhapsody’s acquisition of The Grateful Dead’s Dick’s Picks series, I put together this introduction and playlist for the Rhapsody Blog. Kindly check out my playlist before reading the post below.)
Grate news, especially for all you Deadheads: Rhapsody recently scored nearly every volume of tape-vault archivist Dick Latvala’s Dick’s Picks, a now-legendary series of live two-track concert recordings spanning the band’s four-decade career. These things are wonderfully — some would maddeningly — raw. Lacking the remix work of the Dead’s official live albums, each volume came with a “caveat emptor” warning would-be buyers about its very unpolished sound quality.
Of the 36 Dick’s Picks released between 1993 and 2005, Rhapsody, if I counted correctly, offers 33. To celebrate these gnarly acquisitions, I’ve put together “So You Wanna Be a Deadhead…”, a 30-tracks-from-30-different-volumes playlist. For the uninitiated, this would serve as great primer to Latvala’s sprawling work (he left us in 1999).
Though The American Book of the Dead is a regular read in my house, I lack the knowledge of the true Deadhead. Thus, I wasn’t able to pay homage to some of the more adventurous tape collectors out there and turn my playlist into the ultimate Dead experience: a simulated concert stitched together from the best Dick’s Picks has to offer. However, I did re-create a few of the group’s classic segues, including the “Scarlet Begonias” > “Fire on the Mountain” jam. For the former I used the version found on Volume 24 (Cow Palace 3/23/1974), while for the latter I grabbed the version that appears on Volume 6 (Hartford Civic Center 10/14/83).
I also made sure every track I picked is considered, amongst the Deadhead cognoscenti, to be one of the group’s very best performances of that particular song. But hey, that’s expected from a guy who sits on the bowl reading a 450-page Grateful Dead encyclopedia. Which reminds me…
BTW, the volume I’m most obsessed with these days is No. 23 (Baltimore Civic Center 9/17/1972). This gig captures the Dead making the transition from countrified bar rock to the dreamy, fusion-based psychedelia of the mid-1970s. Good stuff, especially the, uh, 39-minute rendition of “The Other One.”
