The Beautiful Freak from 1996 had his reasons to sing the blues on this second album, as he lost his mother (lung cancer) and sister (suicide), making him the only remaining member of the family after his father’s death in ’82. Good album (not really comparable to the later and great Blinking Lights), with a cover of Daniel Johnston’s ‘Living Life’ being often played during its supporting tour (an admiration that eventually led to a tribute album in 2004).
One of my favorite sixties bands, despite (or maybe thanks to) their limited discography. Band that came from Texas, but when the lead single from this album (‘You’re Gonna Miss Me’) reached San Francisco and people there heard about this band that served as an elevator for your consciousness, their fame was made in the Bay Area. The Elevators started performing at the notorious Fillmore with bands like Quicksilver Messenger Service and The Great Society. After the release of their second great album, the band practically split up, despite the release of a third ‘album’ in 1969. Later work that ís worth mentioning: singer Rocky Erickson’s album True Love Cast Out All Evil (2010), a collaboration with Okkervil River.
Final (Marr even left the band before the release) and probably best Smiths album. It’s a classic thoroughbred cooperation between Marr (music) and Morrissey (lyrics), both acting on their top level.
Album that was already shuffled a couple of times before, but that couldn’t convince me. Called post-rock, alternative rock or indie rock, although I personally would never associate any of those genres with Tortoise.
From Jethro Tull’s key album, on which this song is the memorable clincher. Ian Anderson must have realised he just created a pretty damn good album and on this track he throws out all his anger towards his parents, who were always doubting his potential. His voice and flute sound more uptempo than anywhere else on the album, finishing it off with a tremendous flute solo.
‘No Commercial Potential’ was the name of Zappa’s project (‘it’s all one big album’) that produced four of his best albums, with this one perhaps having the most commercial potential. That would have even been higher when the original cover artwork (parodying The Beatles‘ Sgt. Pepper’s and eventually being used as interior artwork) would have been used, but Zappa didn’t get permission from The Fab ‘only in it for the money’ Four’s managers. This is probably still the reason why some Zappa-fans don’t play any Beatles music in their bar.
Of course a lot of Dylan-covers on The Byrds’ deciding breakthrough album, but this song was written by Jackie Deshannon. She supported The Beatles before during their first US ‘In it for the money’ Tour and also wrote some hit singles (like ‘Don’t Turn Your Back on Me’) together with Jimmy Page, before he started Led Zeppelin. Time to discover some more of her own music.
Last track on Creedence’s last album, and maybe one of the best songs they ever made. Or should I say … he ever made? Always an interesting issue, but if one album makes clear that CCR would have been nothing but a very mediocre roadhouse band without John Fogerty’s songwriting, than it’s this one, thanks to its somehow hilarious historical account. The other members of the band would have requested to have additional say in the group’s musical decisions. As a result, Fogerty kind of obliged them to contribute songs equally, resulting in by far the worst Creedence-album, although Fogerty himself shines again with this song and his masterpiece ‘Someday Never Comes’. However, how many classics like this did he make during his solo career…?
Hands down one of the best albums ever made, on which the magnum opus (‘Legend of a Mind’) is captured between the two parts of ‘House of Four Doors, separated by John Lodge’s cello (aka the cracking door). The four doors the Moodys open during this first part represent four musical eras in European music: medieval minstrel music (acoustic guitar and flute), Baroque (harpsichord and cello), classical music (piano) and… modern rock music, as the opening of the last door is followed by the epic ‘Legend of a Mind’.
Already three years old this one, but still played now and then in expectation of that crucial third album. Pecknold’s intentions were to create ‘that kind of cohesive sound’ like on Astral Weeks, ‘with guitar mistakes and without flawless vocals’. Did he succeed? I guess not, but there are a lot of gems out there on this album, like this one for example.
Second time this one comes around, from Nick Zammuto and Paul de Jong’s (New York) debut album. Thought for Food is full of unorthodox sounds, combined with acoustic guitars and finished with a variety of samples to wake you up now and then. Any attempt to stick a label on it would be embarrassing, in general: weighed and found wanting.
Thirteen minutes long clincher of the album, featuring the trendsetting ‘no band no title’ artwork by Hipgnosis. Just like on Ummagumma, the individual members of the band compiled the second side with their compositions and this one (if it could be labeled as such) was ‘written’ by Nick Mason. You actually hear roadie Alan Styles having his breakfast while digging up sweet memories of breakfasts he had during the rest of his life. The instrumentals can be split up in three parts: ‘Rise and Shine’, ‘Sunny Side Up’ (a laid back part featuring Gilmour’s guitar) and ‘Morning Glory’ (spotlights on Wright’s piano).
Another stadium mastodont from the seventies, another ‘no band no title’ album cover. The unrivalled drum intro from Bonham originated from the introduction of Little Richard’s ‘Keep a Knockin’ while Page put in a classic rock and roll riff, as the track was the result of a jam session. Featuring founding Rolling Stones member Ian Stewart on piano.
Third track from their 14th album, obviously influenced by Cave’s side project Grinderman (considering the rather raw sound, probably the result of the short recording period). That’s about it, as Cave never really captivated me on disc, contrary to live.
Shuffled ‘Hints’ before, which together with today’s track and The Knife-cover ‘Heartbeats’ (a culturally as well es commercially fully exploited song) is a sure highlight on this reasonable debut. Never lured me into getting his second album however.
Incredible happy sound from the master himself on this album full of Gershwin interpretations. Although Gershwin is obviously explicitly present on this record, this composition stands out because of Wilson’s flagrant injection with Beach Boys sound.
Another prominent representative of the early 2000’s Canadian indie rock scene, just like Apostle of Hustle last time. Not much to add to what was said last time, except that (despite recent releases from Krug’s otherproject Moonface), one can only hope for a fifth Rubdown album ever to be released.
Live recording from Grace Slick’s family band (featuring her former husband Jerry Slick and his brother Darby), released in the aftermath of Airplane’s success. That fame rose after Darby passed Grace his song ‘Somebody to Love’, that became a massive hit on Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow. The setting of this album’s artwork was The Matrix club in San Francisco, where The Great Society played in 1966, as can be heard here.
Just like the breakfast we had, the evening can also be split in three parts: ‘Intro’, ‘The Sunset’ and ‘Twilight Time’. Outrageously symphonic at its transition point, thanks to The London Festival Orchestra’s contributon, after which it goes up-tempo towards its peak. Great track.
Industrious end of this lovely music hour from this six from Brighton. Maybe another time.
Genre: Space Rock, Psychedelic Rock
Preceded by: The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967)
Followed by: More (1969)
Related to: not available yet
Before: a psychedelic rock band fronted by Syd Barett, having released a couple of successful singles and a more than decent debut album. After: an ambitious rock act, featuring David Gilmour and packed with ever growing ambitions. Struggling with exuberance before, turning vinyl into gold afterwards and threatened to end up in its own shadow towards the end. This is a key album, the only album with Barett as well as Gilmour, a personal favorite, but above all: a beautiful Floyd album, merging great melodies with foggy instrumental parts without drowning in its own sound. As if the title could already foresee what would happen during the early seventies, this would remain the best preserved secret of the band.
Although Roger Waters went to the same high school as Syd Barett, and although Gilmour was hanging around in his neighborhood, he laid down the ground works for Pink Floyd together with Nick Mason and Richard Wright after they met (1962) at the school of architecture. Together with three other guys they played in a band named ‘Sigma 6’. As was made clear later, Waters was already not such a great fan of schools back then and he dropped out after one year, just like Mason. Wright apparently just didn’t show any interest at all in architecture and switched to the London College of Music. Not a bad decision at all, as was also made clear later.
The three of them initially kept playing together, till they are joined by Syd Barett (1964) after the departure of some other members. The younger childhood friend from Waters had meanwhile become an art student, fascinated by work from The Beatles, Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan. Barett’s star within the band quickly rises, as singer as well as lead guitarist, and when the band starts to grow towards its definite form, it changes its name to The Pink Floyd Sound in 1965. The Sound is dropped the next year and the four of them start performing in London’s underground clubs, where their long instrumental improvisations (avoiding to repeat themselves with their limited repertoire) were supported by surreal light effects. It was told that this new band played psychedelic music, which was not at all generally appreciated. Luckily for them, 1967 was within reach.
The rock scene turned upside down right from the start of this year by the massive booming of psychedelic bands, and on the very day the Monterey Pop Festival kicks off on the American West Coast, Pink Floyd releases its second (after ‘Arnold Layne’) single: ‘See Emily Play’. The debut album The Piper at the Gates of Dawn follows in August, being successful in their home country. The support tour in the US however is no success at all, due to many practical troubles and the mental downfall of Barett, set in already during the recordings of Piper. Nevertheless, the band would ultimately play at San Francisco’s famous Winterland in November, after Janis Joplin with Big Brother & The Holding Company.
On their return in the UK in December, Barett’s state of mind has further deteriorated and the band decides to add a fifth band member in case Barett can no longer perform properly: David Gilmour. He would initially become the second guitarist while Barett would stay connected with the band as non-performing songwriter, Brian Wilson-style. However, Barett left the band permanently in March and the four of them remained. Lots of material for the second album was already recorded at that point, resulting in A Saucerful of Secrets being the only Floyd-album with Waters, Gilmour, Mason, Wright ánd Barett.
With Barett gone as the bands main songwriter, the time had come for Waters to take things over. As this new Supreme Being he opens the album with ‘Let There Be More Light’. This track immediately draws your attention to the album, with an opening bass riff that originated from ‘Interstellar Overdrive’ but sounds (especially with the adding of the threatening organ in the background) like an anachronistic piece of techno music from the late sixties. However, when the drums fall in, you know you’re somewhere up high, lost in the cosmos and in the middle of this ultimate space rock song. The lyrics and music reveal that Waters is still inspired by Barett (and, apparently, some concept album by The Beatles; For there revealed in glowing robes – Was Lucy in the sky?) during his early songwriting, while new member Gilmour is also introduced. He takes on the lead vocals during the chorus and more important, he plays his first Floyd solo towards the end of the song, in that characteristic style we would get used to later on.
It’s up to the other new songwriter next, Richard Wright, presenting a song that was an outtake from Piper: ‘Remember a Day’. As we are used from him, the lyrics mainly deal with childhood memories, but because of the albums’ context it feels like we’re looking down from above to witness those young children playing. Might sound mellow or even poppy at first, but as a matter of fact it’s a real showcase for the drums (ironically played by producer Norman Smith instead of Mason on this track), giving this song a haunting groove from the moment they set in. That’s why Wright basically doesn’t need any guitars here, with Gilmour also being absent (Barett would have played acoustic and slide guitar but it’s barely noticeable). Great song.
The third song was the first one that was recorded for the album: ‘Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun’. This is the only Floyd song on which all five members play, although the guitars are quite overruled by drums and organ again. However, there’s only one guy completely defining this song: writer Roger Waters. Of course there’s the awesome bass playing, proving that it’s possible to create an entire song with this instrument as long as the guy who plays it is haughty enough to believe it. But the secret power of this song is without any doubt Water’s threatening whispering, in a style Thom Yorke would later apply to some Radiohead songs.
It’s followed by another Waters song, closing side one: ‘Corporal Clegg’. As the title already might presume, it’s also his first of many song dealing with war (inspired by Waters’ father, who died during World War II). The lyrics tell about this Corporal Clegg, a soldier suffering from shell-shock and losing his leg, while the music drenches the song in sarcasm by using a kazoo (played by Gilmour and once invented by… Thaddeus Von Clegg) in the second part. And in fact, apart from the solo on the opening track, this is the first song on which the guitar really shines.
Side two opens with the title track, a twelve minutes lasting instrumental that was compiled from several separate pieces, composed by Waters, Wright, Gilmour and Mason. According to Waters, it’s the musical translation of a battlefield, including the setup, the actual battle, the view of the dead afterwards and, in the end, the mourning. Again, it are the drums and the piano (+organ) that claim the leading role here. Nick Mason even shows that the drums can perfectly take over the role of the guitar when it comes down to soloing, if this instrument is played brilliantly. Meanwhile, Wright pounds the keys out of his piano with his fists, as can be seen on the legendary Pompeii recording. Some minutes later he switches to his church organ, and creates this mystical atmosphere on a part that might be considered a dress rehearsal for ‘Echoes’. To sum up: listening this song evokes more subterranean imagery than successively watching the entire Indiana Jones collection.
Over to Wright’s second contribution then, lyrically not differing very much from the first one. If one track must be called the least one on this album, it must perhaps be ‘See-Saw’. It sounds kind of peaceful all along and surely can help you falling asleep quietly, and maybe that’s why it was called ‘The Most Boring Song I’ve Ever Heard Bar Two’ on the recording sheet. Throughout the entire song you can ask yourself whether if it’s a charming dream or a sad condolence.
The final secret to discover is ‘Jugband Blues’, the only song out there written and sung by Barett. It was already recorded before Floyd’s trip to the US and Barett must already have known that he would soon (have to) leave the band. The Salvation Army band was added on his insistence, and initially he just wanted them to play whatever they wanted, independent from the rest of the group. Was he maybe inspired by Dylan’s opening track on Blonde on Blonde or is it a little naïve to presume that there still was some memory left at that point? Whatever the answer might be, if there was ever made a song that literally translates somebody’s mental state of mind into music, it must be this one, displaying total schizophrenia between lyrics and instrumentation. That’s why it deserves its spot on this album as a worthy clincher, with Barett seeming to drench his goodbye speech to the group in black humor and irony: I don’t care if the sun don’t shine, I’ll do my loving in the winter.
Altough Barett is represented by only one song on A Saucerful of Secrets, his songwriting still echoed in the first experiments of Waters and Wright. In this way they didn’t break completely with the band’s roots, something that would more or less happen on following albums. This new approach is already announced by the title track, which was a collaboration between the four members who would form the band from now on. That band would exceed their limits in many ways during the following years, but on almost every next album you can find something that points back to A Saucerful of Secrets. Enjoy.
North-America during the late eighties: many punk influenced high school bands are trying to make their own respectable music which was later called ‘alternative rock’, characterizing the pop climate of that time. Many were as short-lived as their songs and if they were lucky, they left us one good album. Lemonheads (Boston) had theirs with this one and it would never become much better afterwards (with several line-ups). Acoustic and electric guitar dance well together on this track.
To the more recent past with another trio, from the flowering Canadian indie rock scene in the beginning of the new century. Apostle of Hustle was founded by Broken Social Scene guitarist Andrew Whiteman, during the recordings of their own album You Forgot It in People. His personal folkloric feel didn’t fit on this album, but thank God he didn’t waste it but threw it on another great record instead.
First single from their second (really) album, which (just like its contemporaries, the self-eponymous debut and Curtains) I used to appreciate a few years ago. Started to repeat themselves at a certain point, although this was well intended in some cases.
Always a tough one to pick the strongest Doors album out of these five gems (disregarding The Soft Parade and the post-Morrison period). The first two (obviously) contain the band’s most original sound, Morrison Hotel probably is the rawest and hardest one, while LA Woman has that legendary gloom around it. But this one might have the best songs, like ‘Not to Touch the Earth’, ‘Spanish Caravan’ and closing song ‘Five to One’. This one is another interesting odd one, with Morrison acting as the high priest of a mendacious cult.
The story of the notorious Wilburys might meanwhile be well known. This track was mainly written by Tom Petty, but especially captivates when Orbison shines during the bridge.
Played the life out of this great (second) album last year. The band tributed it to Dutch architect Gerrit Rietveld (an important temporary representative of the homonymous art movement) and Blind Willie McTell, who was honored another time by Jack White more recently, on his last solo album Lazaretto with his interpretation of McTell’s classic ‘Three Women Blues’.
Singer of another great band from the 21st century, who also released some solo work afterwards (‘with their blessing’). This was his debut (and only) album, which is as reverting to the recent past (‘The Gloaming’ more specifically on this track) as predicting some later work with his band. However, in the end it’s above all Yorke without the rest, which keeps you hungry for those characteristic Kid A / Amnesiac grooves.
Easy listening closing track from the band’s twelfth album. Not a great lover anymore, although it remains difficult to not sing along with tracks like ‘Keeps me Wondering Why’ and ‘Cool Magic’.
One of Simon’s best known compositions (from their marvelous third album), written in an era when it was no option to post a picture of yourself waiting in a train station, to make clear to other people that you’re actually waiting in a train station. All you could do was, well, wait, and (if you were a genius) write a great song about it.
Certainly daring, but not the band’s strongest album. This track however can delight me now and then.
Debut album from so-called Canadian supergroup (Mercer, Bejar and Krug). Krug provided the album title by describing its sound as ‘a boar dying in a tar pit’, which is also a way of saying that it’s not quite as good as the music they produced earlier with their respective bands. They released a second album in 2009, but their debut didn’t convince me to obtain that one.
Many words were written about the true identity of Doctor Robert, who according to Sir Paul ‘kept New York high’. Apparently, it was not at all John Lennon, Robert MacPhail or Bob Dylan, but dr. Robert Freymann, the New York doc who provided the wealthy ‘Upper East Siders’ with vitamin shots including amphetamins.
From the seventh Pearl Jam, that was released after a one year sabbatical (following the death of 9 fans at the Roskilde festival). Keyboards player Kenneth Gaspar made his entrance on this album, and most notably on this track. Adding a keyboards player was part of Pearl Jam being open to new things, which apparently also included having an opinion about things, instead of concentrating on the writing of exceedingly strong songs.
One of those numerous gems on this absolute classic. The track is sung by Simon together with Ladysmith Black Mambazo, whose singer Joseph Shabalala co-wrote the song with Simon. Mister Shabalala came up with the music, which he lent from a traditional Zulu wedding tune, and the Zulu lyrics, while Mister Simon delivered the English lyrics.
Another one from 2002, this debut album from Portland’s finest band, entirely written by singer Colin Meloy. It was a pleasant first acquaintance with the band for me, and meanwhile I’ve become fan of later work, for example Picaresque that was released three years later. Besides Meloy’s affairs with the band, he also proceeds with a solo career by covering songs from his musical heroes like Morrissey and Sam Cooke.
More music from the 21st century, this opening song from Fistful of Mercy’s only album. Another example of a so-called super group, consisting of Joseph Arthur, Dhani Harrison, Ben Harper and… Jim Keltner on drums! Keltner earlier played on solo-albums from John Lennon, Ringo Starr as well as Harrison’s father, and would even provide the drums on both Traveling Wilburys albums as Buster Sidebury. This is the most noteworthy fact about this album, that above all contains lots of embarrassing failures.
From the same era, with a gem from one its greatest pop albums, created after the temporary departure of guitarist Deakin. Not that he’s a bad guitar player, but it obliged the group to renew their sound once more. An average band would perhaps replace the man, but inspired by Panda Bear’s genius’ Person Pitch, Animal Collective chose to replace the instrument.
Debut album from this obstinate band, on which absurdity is permanently lurking, musically as well as lyrically.
Great recording from one of rock’s most notorious concerts, at the Manchester Free Trade Hall during Dylan’s 1966 world tour (falsely attributed to the Royal Albert Hall). This classic from Highway 61 Revisited is to be found on side 2, with Dylan playing electrically together with The Hawks.
Closing in style with more recent work, although there’s clearly a veteran involved this time. Love This Giant was a collaboration between former Talking Heads guru David Byrne with art rock woman St. Vincent (Oklahoma). Most hit sensitive song on the album.
Opening track from Fanclub’s third album, which became one of the absolute indie-singles from that decade. The Scots succeeded to blend Elvis Costello’s melodic sound with the heavy guitars from Sonic Youth on this album, and this song in particular (with great instrumental outro) even reminds of Neil Young with Crazy Horse.
Staying in the early nineties with Rev’s second album during the psychedelic Baker years: a little less conventional and therefore just a little more interesting at the first sight. This one also features an instrumental intro, but less straightforward and with mysticism added by some bells.
Another two year jump, to end up with the Pumpkins’ third album, the famous double one. Now this absolutely is one of the best albums the nineties brought us, freely combining deafening guitars with hit sensitive compositions without boring a single moment (remember it’s a double album, length: 121’49”). Due to internal struggles they quickly degraded to a cult band and subsequently a nostalgia act with several, mediocre line-ups, but this album will never devaluate.
Talking about outros, probably one of the most famous ones of all time. Originally a single from 1968 (B-sided by ‘Revolution’), this is the remixed version by George and Giles Martin. The best version perhaps was the one during the 2012 Olympics, not during the ceremony but together with the velodrome crowd during track cycling.
Cave was still searching for the sound he wanted after four earlier albums and I guess Tender Prey still didn’t meet his expectations, although it has some good tracks on it. The album was recorded in West-Berlin’s Hansa Tonstudio, where Bowie recorded “Heroes” earlier.
Stones classic that was revised by Indian sitar player Ananda Shankar, nephew from Ravi. Shankar was inspired by some great Western rock classics thanks to his stay on the American Westcoast during the late sixties, and it must still be a compliment for Jagger and Richards to hear Shankar’s version of their song, as the composition proves that vocals are even unnecessary.
Back to the nineties, but only for a Little While of course.
Most hit sensitive song from this album, and therefore resembling later wrought up bands like Green Day, Foo Fighters and, yes, Nickelback. Just like all other songs on the record, it was written by singer/guitarist Bob Mould, who succeeded to release even uglier album artwork with Sugar than with his earlier band Hüsker Dü.
Just like ‘We Can Work it Out’ and ‘A Day In the Life’, a great example of the symbiosis of McCartney (“It’s getting better all the time”) and Lennon (“Can’t get no worse”).
Even from Queen we are offered the rather scarce 90’s material. From the final real album featuring Mercury, one that combines some top songs with several fillers and a couple of embarrassing flaws. This one belongs to the second category.