dancing in my head

When I write, I often start by listening to music. It lets my mind drift off to the far unknown reaches of my subconscious. Music does this thing in my brain, mind you, it's almost like it flips on a projector. And oftentimes, it plays out like scenes from a movie in my head. Sometimes, it's horrible. Earlier today, I imagined the transgendered Bob Dylan that is Cate Blanchett singing "I Wanna Be Your Lover, Baby" to a man. (And it wasn't sensational, it was Shakespeare, mannnn...) And sometimes, it's scenes from a movie on some alternate planet.

I used to aid this with the help of a tasty beverage- usually Jameson, cola and lime. I call it a Boston Rush (all the trainspotters in my life know why). I don't do this as much as I used to. Empty bottles of Canadian Club and Segrams strewn about your workspace only works for so long. But I always enjoyed the process of throwing monkey wrenches into the mental process and seeing what sort of darwinistic germs rose to the surface. The pure, the true ideas, I figured would float to the surface and present themselves cause if ever they were gonna make a jailbreak, this was it.

I don't use these methodologies like I used to. Work and life and relationships don't allow it. Time is at a premium and until I get paid to do this for a living, it's going to continue to be this way. I won't lie. Some nights, I really miss it.

But know that tonight, I am blasted and obliviously dancing away on some crappy underground dancefloor in Berlin somewhere where the dj is playing crappy American lo-fi techno- even if only in my head.

exodus interuptus

I swear it, I'm almost out of the desert here. I know it's been a looong time since I posted anything but the time off has been healthy, positive and productive. Things are to be wrapped up on This Is Not a Love Song by Kent vs Pennington soon, with other projects to be announced. One of which should bring me back to the stage in some form or another.

Lots of good new music around the corner including Gogol Bordello, LCD Soundsystem and the Holdsteady, all of whom have new records arriving soon. There will be a Cowboy Junkies show at the National Hispanic Cultural Center and hopefully something at the Santa Fe opera that I'll talk about when I do or don't get tickets.

Lots of thoughts going on in regards to how I want to comport myself with this blog when it does actually return. Since the virtual ghosting of MySpace, there's no reason to really blog there other than storage. And while I haven't been blogging lately, I do miss the speaking out loud of things no person should say sort of quality to it. So I'm expecting to do more ramblage damage around here real soon, of a more varied and possibly personal nature.

And like everything else I've typed on this keyboard tonight, I've used a lot of words to say not much indefinitely. I'm officially ridiculous. Goodnight, teenyboppers, it's way past your bedtime.

Things I Wouldn't Mind...

Having a new post or two up next week covering sides 3 & 4 of the Sandinista Project.

Ruminative pieces, possibly on No Doubt and/or Third Eye Blind (as the digital device holding all my notes on both of those shows this year has completely and totally crashed with no hopes of recovery).

Not having to go into oral surgery in less than two days.

Oh well, let's see what sort of word magic we can turn out in the next few days, yeah?

In the meantime, I'm curious. I've been pondering what songs will define this year for me as the year crosses over into a new calender.

What's the soundtrack of your life this year?

Please. Don't be shy and do tell me.

Breaking Down the Sandinista! Project; pt. 3 Side 2

"Seeking Out a Rhythm That Could Take the Tension On..."


TRACK 1:
"Rebel Waltz"
The Clash vs. Ruby on the Vine

-Take 1:
I remember the first time I listened to this song. I hated it. It meanders aimlessly amidst all the dreadful guitar noodling from Mick Jones. And then there's all that warbly dub reverb... Don't even start me on that... And where are the damn Clash guitars that we all showed up for anyways? I think then I started skipping to tracks like "the Leader" or "Police on my Back." Then, eventually, I started to forget skipping it altogether as I got used to it and found myself digging on the... uh... waltz time. Now, listening to it in a new light (for me, anyhow) as the first song on what was/is side 2, it's sequencing starts to make sense. The opening, at first seeming over indulgent, takes on a newfound majesty as I imagine what it's like to flip the record over, drop the needle and wait in anticipation. More than anything, I find myself digging into Joe Strummer's lyrics as he dreams of humanity amidst a horror like civil war.

-Take 2:
Ruby on the Vine's bluegrass interpretation of the song showcases Strummer's lyrics more adroitly and articulately then he ever could. Besides being free of Strummer's adenoidal delivery, the song is stripped down to its basics and played straightforward without the hindrance of a dub mix and the sonic calamity that can ensue. Musically speaking, the effort is technically sound but does little to burn down any barns. What makes it shine, however, is the warmth and whistfulness of vocalist Myrna Marcarian.

WIN GOES TO:
While it's always great to listen to Strummer in his element, I think the win has to go to Ruby on the Vine here. If only for the sonic clarity and gravitas they bring to the song.


Track 2:
"Look Here"
The Clash vs. Jim Duffy

-Take 1:
Going back and taking a renewed and reinvigorated look at Sandinista as a whole has revealed a lot of old prejudices and new insights as to why they exist. And personally, I've come to the conclusion that side 2 may be one of the biggest hindrances to set as a whole. At least, taken as a two cd set. Side 1 shows the Clash at their sprawling and overreaching best. A hot mess, to be sure. Side 2, kicking off with "Rebel Waltz" and following up with "Look Here," quickly sapped any and all interest until I got to the parts with the songs I knew from Clash on Broadway. Just horrible, I know. With the not quite scatting vocals of "Look Here," this song comes off as just a tad bit overcooked and never sure where it wants to go. Again, my teenage self wanted to know where those Clash guitars were...

-Take 2:
Of course, then again, there's this take here by Jim Duffy. Which I kinda happen to love. Again, the Clash are outmastered with a quarter century's worth of hindsight and a knack to keep it traditional. In their own time, the Clash were thought of as being politically and musically progressive, a hodgepodge of ideas (none of which were all that new) thrown into one pot and poured out as a miscegenation of what the future could be if all were willing. They should be forgiven for occasionally overreaching their grasp if some of their songs didn't work. Here, quite simply, Jim Duffy makes the song a hot one by just keeping it simple.

WIN GOES TO:
Jim Duffy for keeping it simple, traditional and swingin'. Although, much like "Rebel Waltz," re-examining the music has brought a new found appreciation to the original.


Track 3:
"The Crooked Beat"
The Clash vs. Wreckless Eric

-Take 1:
Cynically, it's hard to imagine this song as much more than "Guns of Brixton, mk. II." But if the band's insistent dabbling with dub was going to work for anyone in the group, it would have to be bassist Paul Simonon. The song's spare arrangement turns out to be more of a success than most of the album's attempts at dub as Simonon sounds like he's finally finding his stride. Once again, Simonon showed the world who the real reggae afficionado in punk rock was.

-Take 2:
The difference's between Simonon's original and Wreckless Eric's cover are diminuitive, at best. In fact, if nothing else, it should be said that Wreckless Eric manages to keep all the essential pieces that make the interpretation a faithful one; especially that bassline. But by turning up the guitars, even if only barely, he manages to make the song his own at the same time. The dub mix used here keeps it minimal for the most part except when tweaking the occasional reverb effect up to an absurd level.

WIN GOES TO:
One of Wreckless Eric's largest boons on this song is that he doesn't (as if anyone ever does) sound like Paul Simonon. Even then, win goes to the Clash... 'cause it's Paul Simonon.


Track 4:
"Somebody Got Murdered"
the Clash vs. Matthew Ryan

-Take 1:
Easily, this is the best song on this side and definitely one of the best of the whole record. At one moment, this song typifies everything that was ever great about the Clash: great songwriting by Mick Jones, his guitarwork and arrangement held up dynamically by Topper Headon and the humanist poetry of Joe Strummer riding over the top. At the same time, it manages to sound completely different from everything else that they had recorded. Sonically, it carries itself with an ambiance seldom heard in the Clash. In fact, I would go so far as to say that this song is the blueprint for more than a fair share of the college/alternative music that would arrive by the end of the decade. Sonically, they manage to come up with a sound that is anthemic enough for use in the cinema but at the same time human enough that it packs a wallop on any record that it graces. One could almost say that this is the blueprint for every U2 song from the Joshua Tree onward. And I most definitely mean that as a compliment, which makes the Clash's eventual crash and burn all the sadder for me. Ultimately, the song's a good blueprint to follow with Jones plaintively singing a Strummer tale about random violence and the moral ambiguity that follows.

-Take 2:
If the Clash laid down the blueprint for the post new-wave college/alternative music of the late 80's and early 90's, then Matthew Ryan has taken the song and molded it into its late 90's early 00's spawn. Ryan's take turns away from the original's sense of sonic adventure and instead focuses on the solid structure of Mick Jone's tunesmith work. By doing so, he highlights both the plaintive and melodic nature of Strummer's contribution and makes it work with his raspy baritone. Ultimately, it embodies the best of post grunge work by bands like Pearl Jam- all song, no bombast.

WIN GOES TO:
The Clash for coming up with the blueprint to almost every record I've ever loved. I still feel giddy when that wall of guitar noise kicks in at 24 seconds.


Track 5:
"One More Time"
the Clash vs. Haale vs. Ted Harris

-Take 1:
Despite featuring one of the few lyrics in which Joe Strummer's humanist reach exceeds it's grasp, this song still manages to succeed for some reason. Unlike Simonon compositions like "Guns of Brixton" or "the Crooked Beat," which often seem to ride the songwriter's hipster coattails, this song is more akin to the apocalyptic "Armagideon Times," the explosive "White Man (in Hammersmith Palais)" or the grandiose but misguided "Bankrobber." That is to say, this song embodies a dark, funky, paranoid sort of skank that only the Clash could ever pull off. It manages to be urgent but listenable despite Strummer's daft metaphors and loosely connected truisms.

-Take 2:
The largest problem I have with Haale's take on this song is probably what would make any and every other composition she touches brilliant. Like the Clash, she manages to throw a wide disparate spate of influences into a pot and make it her own. Her voice, full and emotive, comes through too clear and as a result feels a bit contrived. The guitars explode into guitar solos guaranteed to give you a third degree burn and the mix offers a lot of interesting sounds to sift through with your heaphones on. So why doesn't this work? The original song offers an insistent if somewhat quiet dread. This interpretation may just be a little too explosive, a little too dynamic in comparison.

-Take 3:
Ted Harris' take on the song comes off as being far more faithful to the original song as well as the album as a whole. Sonically, he layers the vocals one right over the other, at moments utilizing three different vox tracks as he seems to shovel dirt over all of them. Mastering the dub vibe of the project without letting reverb overwhelm the whole of the piece, instruments come in and drone out with the drums starting and stopping just as suddenly. And while the vibe of the piece does seem to lack the urgency of the original, a more subtle paranoia seems to have creeped in, rendering the piece almost downright spooky.

WIN GOES TO:
Despite lyrical gaffes that not even Joe Strummer can get away with (right?), points go to the Clash for creating an apocalyptic rocker in which the music of the band towers over everything else. Moreso than musical cousins like "Armegiddeon Times, " "One More Time" is infused with an urgent sense of dread that never once comes off as blinkered or daft.

Track 6:
"One More Dub"
the Clash vs. Haale

-Take 1:
Initially, I remember listening to this album as a whole and feeling that this track reeked of all filler/no killer. It was obviously redundant as a result of being a dub remix of the previous track. Additionally, it jumped out as an afterthought on an album noteworthy for afterthoughts (see later track "Washing Bullets" et, al for further demonstration of this) in which the Clash threw everything they had on tape at the wall, regardless of whether or not it was going to stick. As hubris goes, this track was exhibit A in the alphabet of self indulgences and a clear foreboding of what was to come, especially in the last few tracks of the album as a whole. Listening to the song with fresh ears, and more to the point a fresh mind, this song becomes fully realized when you place it as the last song on a piece of vinyl with the intention of cleansing your dub heavy palette. And that's a whole different kind of alright.

-Take 2:
Despite my misgivings about Haale's take on "One More Time," all the characteristics I marked as being a bane to the artist's contribution work in spades here. Where the composition for "One More Time" seemed claustrophobic, the dub/remix nature of the original track opens up and lets Haale's genius breathe openly and freely. In fact, the quiet dread that her work on "One More Time" was missing seems to have shown up here in force and in style.

WIN GOES TO:
Haale takes all of the brilliance that crowded and clustered her composition of the original and lets it breathe. Granted, the Clash's version comes off as being an afterthought, but Haale manages to make it a piece of art in its' own right.


FINAL TALLY:
The Clash versus everyone else- 3 to 3, once again.
Cumulative Tally:
A lot like the final tally for this side and last side's- a dead heat. Whether this is indicative of the first piece of vinyl in this set remains to be seen.
On to Side 3!
e.m.p.

your monthly apology

Apparently, I do need sleep and rest and relaxation. But after taking the last month to reconnect old bonds and make new ones, it's time to get things moving again.

As usual, apologies abound as activity here has not been so great. But great things are around the corner. Which means kicking the old stuff out of the queue. Hence, around the corner we've got more of breaking down the Clash's Sandinista! and its tribute album, the months delayed reviews for live shows from No Doubt and Third Eye Blind and more general meandering on music that nobody but me cares about.

After that, however? I'm looking forward to shows from Huey Lewis and the News, U2 and Gogol Bordello. Stick around, it should be fun. We'll have some internet Clash up tomorrow.

Tower of Song

Seeing as I knew I was going to be completely and utterly devoid of creative worth tonight, I set out on a productivity of a different kind. I decided to try and clean my room a little. If nothing else, I figured I could integrate all the new music I've bought over the last season into my shelves.

Holy crap. I've bought a lot of new music lately.

A run down of my latest additions and why.

music from the miramax motion picture: Beautiful Girls

I found this in a Hastings clearance bin for 97 cents. It turned out to be exactly the kind of compilation that you'd expect from executive producers Ted Demme and Greg Dulli: some Howlin' Maggie, Chris Isaak and Neil Diamond. I bought it for the soul music covers that Dulli's Afghan Whigs provided but the real treasure turned out to be "Could It Be That I'm Falling In Love" by the Spinners. Which made me wonder why I don't have any Spinners albums.

the Sandinista! Project: A Tribute to the Clash

I found this one night during one of my characteristically drunk Amazoning marathons. Inspired by the blinkered giddyness of it all, I told myself I'd wait for sobriety and order it the next day. Then I ordered it anyways. Beyond that, I think it hardly requires any introduction as I'm currently in the process of giving it a deep and blogful analysis. I would like to say, however, that I am totally enjoying it and finding it to be a more than worthy tribute to the original article. Thanks, Jimmy G.

East Infection by Gogol Bordello

I discovered this ep lunchtime shopping at Borders one day in a vain attempt to escape from work. Sadly/thankfully, I'm still employed but at least I've got this little disc. Six songs long, it features alternate versions of of "Ave. B" and "Strange Uncles From Abroad." The real gem, however, is a cover of Manu Chao's "Mala Vida" in which Hutz and co. show you what the Gypsy Kings on crystal meth might sound like. It's really way better than it sounds.

Red by Patty Griffin

Tyler passed this one on to me back in April. But I'm a bad friend cause I haven't given it a spin yet. Mostly in favor of all the other stuff he gave me, like Ingrid Michaelson and Okkervil River and Old '97's. But don't tell him.

From Every Sphere/Here Be Monsters/Strangers/Until Tomorrow Then (the Best of...) by Ed Harcourt

Ed Harcourt was one of those artists that Ty and I did our damnedest to see back at SxSw. Every night, he'd have a set and every night, we'd miss it for some reason. Until the last night when we were lucky enough to catch him at the convention center with Victoria, Rob and Brook. I believe that all five of us stood and appreciated the show in slack jawed awe. Since then, I bought the limited edition two disc best of Until Tomorrow Then. I didn't realize that it was a gateway drug for Strangers (my favorite so far) and then Here Be Monsters and now From Every Sphere. Next? Beautiful Lie, most likely. Still, a darker, sexier music I haven't found since Greg Dulli's Twilight Singers.

A Positive Rage/Separation Sunday by the Hold Steady

Speaking of SxSw obsessions, I went to Austin this year convinced of little more than a chance to see the 'Steady. As noted elsewhere on this blog, I saw them not once but twice on the same day, treated to two totally different setlists. For an encore? I picked up A Positive Rage which shows the boys in transition before their excellent Stay Positive came out. Sadly, this means that this live disc is light of the more musical fare of their latest album. Gladly, it is chock full of their old school barroom stompers and a few cuts not found on their regular albums.

Going back to Separation Sunday, on the other hand, is just requisite reading for any devoted fan of the band. Especially as most of us caught on around the time of Boys and Girls in America. Less tuneful that it's successor, Sunday makes up for it in sonic squallor and sheer psychosis. Totally worth it for "Your Little Hoodrat Friend" and the monster riffage that guitarist Tad Kubler throws down.

Honeysuckle Strange by Howlin' Maggie

Another Hastings dollar bin bargain, I bought this for Harold Chistester. Besides providing the most gorgeous keyboards on the Afghan Whig's Black Love and 1965, he was also one of the artists involved in Greg Dulli's first Twilight's record, Twilight as Recorded by the Twilight Singers. I'm greatly ashamed that I haven't listened to this yet, but, if the Maggie's contribution to Beautiful Girls is any indication, it should be good (and doubly shameful) when I finally do.

No One's First, and You're Next by Modest Mouse

This little ep came out with little to no fanfare other the Heath Ledger directed video for "King Rat" and caught me a little by surprise. What wasn't surprising was a small disc of tuneful songs that just didn't seem to fit in anywhere else. Looking over the credits, it's obvious that this is an odd's 'n sod's album, comprised of outtakes from other records. The lead-off track, "Satellite Skin," shows songwriter Isaac Brock at his most melodically dogged. Still, as I was listening to this the other night, it did make me wonder: if Space Ghost's Brak formed an indie band, is this what they would sound like?

The Stand Ins by Okkervil River

The one band we didn't get to see at SxSw that I haven't been able to make up for, the Okkervil was originally ingrained into me by Tyler over many a night at the Anodyne's pool tables. With Stage Names' brilliant "John Allyn Smith Sails" and this year's "Lost Coastlines" off of Stand Ins, however, I can count myself amongs the faithful. In some of their more languid numbers, they can ramble a bit. But at their most rollicking, they show a real rocking potential kindred to Counting Crows.

Feeling Strangely Fine by Semisonic

Admittedly, I already owned this record. But it should be said that I've practically burned a hole through my last copy so it was time to replace it. Pound for pound, one of the strongest albums I've ever heard and full of more hooks than a bait shop, it's sweet enough to make your teeth go bad. Especially the second half. I can never skip "This Will Be My Year" (my anthem every year) or "California." Go now. Buy. Kill if you must.

Music From the Motion Picture: SLIVER

I cannot stress how crappy this album is. Really, it's horrible and I should be ashamed. It's full of early nineties electronic schlock that makes me cringe for remembering the early nineties. I might as well be listening to A Night at the Roxbury, right? But, I used to always steal this from my brother when I was younger. For UB40 doing that gimmicky UB40 thing they do to Elvis' "Can't Help Falling in Love?" Sure. But, there's also Massive Attack, Shaggy (before he was Mr. Boombastic) and the Verve. And just to be clear, dollar bargain bins are evil. EVIL.

Spiders by Space

Speaking of evil dollar bargain bins and useless nostalgia... I used to always love "Female of the Species." Moving right along...

Far by Regina Spektor

This album seems to rest somewhere between her major label debut Soviet Kitsch and it's followup, Begin to Hope. Featuring more fleshed out arrangements than Kitsch, it still lacks Hope's giddy experimental nature. Featuring work from four different producers, it does highlight an insanely charismatic knack that Spektor has for pop hooks. Personally, I can't get enough of "The Calculation," "Dance Anthem of the 80's" and "One More Time With Feeling." "Folding Chair," however, breaks my heart with sheer joy every time I hear it, no matter how little it makes sense.

No Line on the Horizon by U2

For a band that understands the art form of album sequencing so well, this collection of songs falls incredibly flat. Personally, I found the album prone to getting stuck in ruts more often than not. On a lark, I decided to rework the order of the songs (I know how much this annoys some of my friends) and have since found myself not only enjoying the album as a whole so much more, but I've found that I like all the songs. For an album full of so many potential peaks and valleys, U2's original sequence grouped the songs into monotonous stages. Now, thanks to the genius of the ipod, I'm looking forward to seeing all of these songs in October.

Women in Technology by White Town

In regards to the why, see my entry on Space. In regards to how the album sounds as a whole, also see the entry on Space... Moving right along...

It's Blitz! by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Honestly, I'm a bit torn on this. None of their releases have matched the raw id of their debut, Fever to Tell. And while Show Your Bones saw them stretching in some interesting directions, I still prefer the tracks on here that sound like the old Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Mostly meaning, the drummer hits things really hard, the guitarist brings the motherfucking ruckus and Karen O stretches her voice as far as it will go. I enjoyed this record so much more than Show Your Bones but still, you never forget your first time.

Breaking Down the Sandinista! Project; pt.2 SIDE A

"You Gotta Give the People Something Good to Read On a Sunday."

-The Leader

TRACK 1:

"The Magnificent Seven"

The Clash vs. Joe Grushecky and the Houserockers

-Take 1:

This is probably the most notable contribution to the Clash's canon from this album. Notable for, if nothing else, being the Clash's first stab at rap music before Old School, New School and Brownie McGee. Obviously, their time spent in New York was not spent in sequestration. Also worth taking note of here is Norman Watt Roy's contribution at the bass spot. Standing in for Paul Simonon, his work with Topper Headon provides an almost martial beat for Joe Strummer to jump off of with lyrics topical, political and inane. Sometimes, as "Vacuum cleaner sucks up budgie {gerbil}" proves, he comes close to all of them at once. Still, this was Strummer's ode/lament to the working man.

-Take 2:

Immediately, this track jumps right out at the listener, if for no other reason than the way the drums are tastefully compressed. They're clean, tight and unencumbered by the mammoth sound of the bassline. This gives the listener a second or two to settle into the groove before the pandemonium starts. Compared to the original, the original seems unnecessarily drenched in reverb and chorus. Of course, it should be pointed out that the original came well before the 90's when lo-fi actually became an important artistic decision.

Still, this arrangement manages to be tight and loose at the same time. Most of this is due to the mixer's choice to separate the guitars to left and right ears while mixing everything else straight down the middle. What really makes this work is the sense of swagger this imbues the song with. The martial feel of the original serves it well considering the topic, but this song is loose limbed and furious, leaving the listener with an impression of what the song could be live... especially with Simonon in tow.

WIN GOES TO:

The Clash. The tribute is great at presenting a sonic squallor worthy of the Clash but... unfortunately, no one can swagger with the charisma that Strummer did. Especially when it comes to his unique take on hip hop.

Track 2:

"HitsVille U.K."

The Clash vs. Katrina Leskanich

-Take 1:

Artistically speaking, there's a number of adjectives that can and have been used to describe this song, I'm sure: dubious, inspiring, maddening. I'm going to go with puzzling. When faced with the choice of Joe Strummer's bombastic charisma or Mick Jones's hard luck doggedness, the Clash choose to underpin a choral effect with Mick Jones at his fayest, thus removing the effectiveness of either one of their songwriting stars. Which, on a three lp magnum opus, should come as neither a shock or suprise. But for track two? Talk about setting your stall out early.

Eventually, what comes to bear in the memory of the listener is the old Motown indebted bassline (not to mention title) and accompanying guitar part which snaps over the syncopations of the snare. It shows a Mick Jones more enamored with that old Motown song than was ever hinted on London Calling's "Train in Vain."

-Take 2:

Katrina Leskanich (of Katrina and the Waves fame) uses this song to bridge a gap between soul and punk that no one had taken up since the Who (or Pearl Jam after them) covered Holland/Dozer/Holland's "Leaving Here." It almost owes more to a mid tempo Ramones than anything else. But as guitar pop/punk pieces go, it's influences are instantly recognizable and new at the same time. The listener can sit and enjoy the simple but rocking arrangement, even the Thin Lizzy double guitar lead solo.

WIN GOES TO:

Katrina Leskanich for showing the true immediacy and beauty of the songwriting. Sure, the Clash were experimenting with various forms of songwriting and production on this record, but more than anything, the original track shows a group losing sight of a songwriting team second only to the OG's that were Lennon/McCartney. So sue me.

Track 3:

"Junco Partner"

The Clash vs. Jon Langford & Sally Timms w/Ship & Pilot

-Take 1:

Personally, if this record didn't originally go off the rails with a second track that featured none of the hallmarks of a great Clash song... this song had me pushing the skip button. In a renewed light, I have grown to appreciate the livewire nature of Strummer's performance here and the musicality of the group playing a traditional arrangement. But let's be honest, yeah? We know that Joe Strummer loved Dylan and the Guthries and a bunch of other proto-hippie troubador ramblers. And we know that he had that snarl. And... we know that he lived in the moment of the song more than anyone had up til that point. But... BUT. This is Strummer and his eccentric tastes at their most indecipherable.

As a dyed in the wool Clash fan and Strummer acolyte, I've grown to appreciate this song so much more than I used to. Without the context of folk/traditional music or a love for either, this song becomes Joe Strummer mushmouth gibberish drenched in a reverb heavy dub arrangement. Completely worthless to anyone waiting for "Clash City Rockers" or even, say, "Spanish Bombs."

-Take 2:

Jon Langford takes this song back to its roots by using a simple arrangement of brushed drums and guitars. Using Sally Timms to back up on the vocals also gives it a nice sing along effect more consistant with the populist slant of folk music.

WIN GOES TO:

Jon Langford and co. As a Clash fan, this becomes more and more daunting by the song. But, if we're being honest here, Langford's spare arrangement brings to the fore the beauty of the song that gets lost in the Clash's dub heavy arrangement. Beyond providing an idea of what Strummer saw in the song, this interpretation provides an actual understanding of what the song is actually about. Because Strummer, much as I love the man, was never known for his stellar annunciation. Yeah, I said it. But Langford provides a great song and story that I've grown more and more fond of with every listen. Even stopping to listen to the Clash's version when I can.

Track 4:

"Ivan Meets G.I.Joe"

the Clash vs. Jason Ringenberg and Kristi Rose

-Take 1:

There's no reason why this track shouldn't work. Unfortunately, there's also no reason why it does. With Topper Headon providing lead vocals, it seems most likely that he also contributed the bulk of the songwriting on this track. Unlike the hit that became "Rock the Casbah," one has no reason to believe that Joe Strummer contributed lyrics and it's a truism that he didn't contribute lead vocals. Headon's vocals, while not cringeworthy, are symptomatic of the rest of song: workmanlike but ultimately flat and uninspiring. It may be the topicality of the subject matter or the fact that he pales in comparison to three other vocalists in the group. Ultimately, at the end of the day, I want this song to work and believe that it could with a massive overhaul of a remix. But the artifact, as it is, remains to be laregely uncompelling and bloodless. It lacks that spark. Of course, even Headon has admitted in interviews since then that he was doing mostly snare and hat work on the drum kit as a result of his growing substance abuse problem.

-Take 2:

I remember hearing this anecdote in class once, and though it may be apocryphal, I think it speaks to the problem of this track here. Kruschev once took Kennedy to task for the political bent of American cinema. When pressed for clarification, Kruschev responded with the idea that American movies always featured refrigerators that, when opened, were full of food. Nothing, he explained to JFK, could be more political.

Keeping that in mind, one would think that there is no more political form of songwriting than country music. Not the reheated leftovers of the Eagles that the current Nashville has become, mind you, but the real deal of songwriting and storytelling. That being said, this is the first song on the compilation that seems to fall flat. But really, doesn't the original as well? Sadly, I blame Topper here as I've tried really hard to be enamored with the original and have failed. Honestly, this track had no chance. Not without providing a super bass heavy remix and a few tabs of e.

WIN GOES TO:

No one. Not even the listener. Okay, win goes to Jason Ringenberg and Kristi Rose for taking on an unenviable task and taking it to completion. Topper's original track should've been a barnburner of a club hit with it's highly syncopated hi-hat and snare pattern. Even with it's oddly bent political slant, it still would've fit in with any number of 80's anthems. But no. It just runs flat. And that doesn't leave a lot for the tribute performer to work with, does it?

Track 5:

"The Leader"

The Clash vs. Amy Rigby

-Take 1:

From the opening tease of Mick Jones' guitar to the full swagger of the band once the song kicks in, few songs deliver on the promise of the Clash like this song does. The rhythm section provides a true rollickin' backbeat as Mick Jones lays layer upon layer of guitar awesomeosity over it. But the true star here is Joe Strummer. Delivering with his usual charisma, he provides us with a satirical/conspiratorial take on the shadow bureaucracy of government workings and its opportunistic relationship to the press. And not once does he skip on the sense of humor, an aspect often lost to music historians. My favorite line? "He wore a leather mask for his dinner guests/totally nude and with deep respect." Not even Eddie Vedder gets to be that funny. One of my favorite Clash songs ever as it features the whole of the band doing what they all do best: rock while rocking the boat.

-Take 2:

Forsaking the guitar forplay of the original, Amy Rigby's take on the song here reinforces what becomes one of the most obvious draws of the Clash: (yeah... this word again) SWAGGER. The song starts out with the drums before letting the guitars rip in. Honestly, it becomes a much more traditionally punk number in this manner, but never once does it lose the lyrical or melodic punch of what the song was supposed to be. By changing up the structure for the last verse, Rigby manages to do something not often seen on this compilation: be faithful and original at the same time. This is, in all sincerity, a incredibly great cover of an incredibly great song.

WIN GOES TO:

The Clash. Sad as it may be, one must punch their own weight and, in light of this song, the Clash are in a class all their own. Still, Amy Rigby's take on this song is one of the best on the album. And what's more, her energetic verve has made me a fan. That's a win-win-win.

Track 6:

"Something About England"

The Clash vs. The Coal Porters

-Take 1:

Originally, I thought this song was Mick Jones' at his thinnest of vocal stretches. Now, I think this is Joe Strummer at his storytelling finest as he and Mick switch off on narrative voices. Also, for the last few years, I've pondered how I could make Sandinista! into a vehicle worthy of a true rock and roll spectactle (i.e. musical). This song makes the strongest case for that, both musically and lyrically. Like "The Leader" before it, this song features the Clash at their best as Mick gets to drop in with one of his most grandiose arrangements (almost readymade for Broadway) and Joe gets to tell one hell of a story about war and its effects on society. What makes the song perfect, though, is how through the whole narrative, Strummer never loses sight of what makes his work both compelling and vital: his unblinkered sense of humanity. Especially when told through the eyes of a vagrant charting the failed path of warfare and its ravaging effects on society.

-Take 2:

This is a great take on a great song that features a lot more in common with the original than at first suggested. However, for a song title "Something About England," it does little to evoke visions of 'Ol Blighty." Musicianship and presentation do very little to fail this presentation of the song, but they also do very little to challenge the original vision of the song.

WIN GOES TO:

Joe Strummer. For evoking the misery of living through war and its ensuing gloom. Sure, the grandiose arrangement and presentation of the music helped immensely, but its Strummer's incredibly compelling sense of righteously indignant humanity that imbue this song with its impact and gravitas. Like Amy Rigby before this track, covering this song is thankless and destined to pale in comparison.

FINAL TALLY:

The Clash versus Everyone Else- 3 to 3. It's a dead heat on side one.

Cumulative Tally:

A lot like the final tally.

And now? On to side 2!

-e.m.p.

Breaking Down the Sandinista! Project; pt. 1

"F***ing long, innit?"

-Joe Strummer at the end of the Magnificent Seven












Initially, the idea was to break down Sandinista! and it's tribute, the Sandinista! Project, side versus side and song versus song.

This was mostly due to necessity.

Because, quite simply, there are a few choice words to describe the scope of any project that requires a body to go over thirty six tracks, any number of which are impenetrable to begin with. Those words would be: completely and totally blinkered.

And here I am deciding to do it twice. Again, completely and totally blinkered, right? But there are certain things that you just have to do. Because, being a fan of the Clash is a beautiful and wondrous thing in and unto itself. Like the Who before them, being a fan of the Clash is often more than a passion: it's an effing obligation, man. Because once again, like the Who before them, being a fan of the Clash is being a part of a secret society.

We talk in our own language, where the songs and the albums and the vainglorious anecdotes (apochryphal though they may or may not be) are our secret handshakes and codewords and secret decoder rings. I've actually been at the barbeque, a few of them to be honest, where the hypothetical thunderdome of the Who versus Led Zeppelin came up (for the record, the Who usually wins this one). And I mention this only to put into context how being a fan of the Clash goes beyond the pale of your normal insanity. But, as usual, I must digresss... or this will go nowhere but into visions of the Westway to the world and fedoras and Jackson Pollack...

Really, I could do this all night.

And so, the decision was made to break the albums down and compare them side by side, song versus song. This allowed me the opportunity to re-examine each song in a renewed and objective light. To listen, as it is, as something more than a newbie Clash fan (which I kind of was when I originially bought this album), disappointed and titillated at the same time that this album was not London Calling mk. II.

In that initial listening response, I imagine I wasn't alone.

Additionally, in the process of grouping the songs together, I remembered something so plainly obvious that it became embarassing. I remembered what it felt like to listen to vinyl.

I remembered, for the first time in ages, the sublime perfection with which U2 blended "Bullet the Blue Sky" into "Running to Stand Still" and the anticipation I felt when I used to flip the record over into the opening arpeggio's of "Red Hill Mining Town." I remembered the spirit of '91, in which Pearl Jam and the Red Hot Chili Peppers both delivered incredibly career defining albums, both mixed for vinyl, trapped on cd. They indelibly bled song into song, stopping only for the space in which you would flip the record over (between "Jeremy" and "Oceans" on Ten and "Give It Away" and "Blood Sugar Sex Magic" on, uh... Blood Sugar Sex Magic).

That these artists thought in terms of sides A and B led me to the first revelation of The Sandinista! Project and its namesake for which it was made: Originally, this was a three lp project. That means, three side A's and three side B's.

An act of hubris on the part of the Clash? To be sure. Especially when considering that it was one of those "dinosaur moves" that punk rock was supposed to eliminate altogether. Complicated and messy and beautiful? Also, to be sure.

But what I really realized was that I'd been listening to Sandinista! wrong all along. I'd been listening to it as a double cd. At my worst, I'd mixed it down to a more manageable hip-hop 70 minutes. So, of course, the original article never stood a chance. If, for one reason more than all the others put together, I'd never heard the original article.

Since U2's aforementioned Joshua Tree, tracklisting has become a formulaic excercise in record making. Like U2 before them, most artists these days frontload their albums, making sure that it's impossible to stop the record for at least the first three songs. Until ambivalence sets in, anyhow.

But this, Sandinista! is something different altogether. Viewing it as six songs by six sides, what seemed like dubious tracklisting instantly became more understandable. The artist's vision opened up and revealed itself to me.

By breaking the work down into two wholes as opposed to the original three, the vision of the artist became difficult, muddy and unsympathetic. Grouping that work back into sides A and B, as opposed to disc 1 and 2, restores the original balance even if just a little.

Which is completely necessary when dealing with 36 songs. Twice.

Armed with this revelation, Sandinista! has already become less daunting and less of a taxing prospect. Now, its more of a beautiful proposition, wide open for interpretation and discovery.

With that in mind, here's the docket for Sandinista! and its tribute:

DISC ONE:
Side A.
-the Magnificent Seven
-Hitsville U.K.
-Junco Partner
-Ivan Meets G.I.Joe
-the Leader
-Something About England

Side B.
-Rebel Waltz
-Look Here
-The Crooked Beat
-Somebody Got Murdered
-One More Time
-One More Dub

***with the inclusion of "One More Dub" at the end here, this is obviously the safest of the three lp's. While not necessarily a barn burner of a charting record, this lp provides the safest and most reliable of songwriting on all three records. "One More Dub" is, at most, like the bonus remix track on most marketable records these days. Back then, they dubbed. Now, we remix.
Tomatoe... Tomahtoe...


DISC TWO:
Side A.
-Lightning Strikes (Not Once but Twice)
-Up In Heaven (Not Only Here)
-Corner Soul
-Let's Go Crazy
-If Music Could Talk
-The Sound of Sinners

Side B.
-Police on My Back
-Midnight Log
-The Equalizer
-The Call Up
-Washington Bullets
-Broadway

***In modern marketing terms, this would be a b-sides and rarities sorta disc. Most likely, a collection of oddities featuring songs as strong as most of their singles but lacking the cohesion to be included in the main event. But really, most of my favorite songs are on this disc and they feature the Clash stretching out at their craziest.


DISC THREE:
Side A.
-Lose This Skin
-Charlie Don't Surf
-Mensforth Hill
-Junkie Slip
-Kingston Advice
-The Street Parade

Side B.
-Version City
-Living in Fame
-Silicone on Sapphire
-Version Pardner
-Career Opportunities
-Shepherds Delight

***Again, in modern marketing terms, this would be the remix disc that the record company would trot out in order to get you to buy the record for... the third time. Half lazy, half inspired remixes? Check. Haphazard arrangements that showed more forethough put into the drug of choice? Check.... But don't be fooled. There is some crazy brilliant stuff on this lp. Its just hard to find because so much of it is just so... crazy.



Alright, now that we've mapped out the genome of this monster, let's get on to the actuall reviewin', yeah?

Reserving the Right to Make Mistakes

(speaking of mistakes, bear with me- blogger has apparently decided that me using anything like line breaks or indentations is not allowed. sorry.)




Reserving the right to make mistakes is one of the biggest principles I hold dear. Sincerely, I really mean that. Because no one on this planet can claim infallibility or perfection. And the fact that we still strive to be something larger than the random moments we string together is honey on the tongue to me.





In that process, however, sometimes mistakes get made. Mistakes made in such spectacular and ambitious gestures that there hasn't been a scale invented yet to measure it. Not even by the Canadians, and they use the metric system. But in the hubris of those mistakes, sometimes, we also get moments of unimaginable beauty. Contrary, messy and complicated these moments may be, but a real beauty to behold nonetheless.





And I love these moments because they are quite often the most sincere and real that you'll ever get. And honestly? I'm often relieved to see that someone has the balls to fail on such spectacular scales. That someone is willing to fail in the name of taking life, art and everything in between farther, man.






Which brings me to tonights subject: The Sandinista! Project.




It's a track by track tribute album devoted to Sandinista! by the Clash. Why Sandinista!, you ask. Why indeed?






First off, let me say that at least the Clash were willing to fail. The closest U2 ever came was climbing out of a lemon. Which is not to say that U2 has never taken risks. Just never as blinkeringly straighforward as the Clash. That they've succeeded may be the Clash's biggest success... Because somebody learned their lessons well. But I digress.






Sandinista! was neither the revolutionary album that London Calling was nor was it the pop radio rope-a- dope that became Combat Rock. No. Sandinista! is the problematic record in an otherwise brilliant back catalog full of classic albums. In three lp's (that means six sides of vinyl, do the math), the Clash managed to not only make no decisions at all, they managed to make all the decisions at once. The album veers wildly from their love of dub and reggae to motown and rockabilly. Refusing to make a soul record or a dub record or a straight ahead rock record, they instead opted to make all of the records at once. One can imagine the band playing as fast as the engineers could put the tapes on reel, pausing only every once in a while to get St. Joe Strummer out of his "spliff bunker."






Plainly said, the album is a big hot sticky mess. And problematic for almost all of its fans. It's that friend who laughs out to loud at all the wrong jokes. You don't know why you love it, but you do.

Which is why someone actually had the gall to put together a track by track tribute album for it.


In it's own way, this should be a helluva hot sticky mess.




And I'm gonna review it, break it down, track by track to see how it stacks up. And I hope you're here to see it. Because, I think, the only way to do this proper is by reviewing it against the original article, track by track.

So here's the plan, Stan. Six sides of six songs each. I'm going to review side 1, track versus track. Then side 2 and so on.





It'll be my own little Sandinista Project. But nowhere near as beautiful as the original objects.
Be well. Take care of each other.

-e.m.

rudi, a message to you (a personal note)

Actually, this message goes out to Cody more than anyone because he's been the first to call shenenigans on me.

So... yeah. Not a lot of updateage going on here as of late. So first off, apologies to anyone and everyone who has stopped by as of late to check in and see new material. I can see that you're out there. Thanks for stopping by. I hope to have a lot of new material up in the beginning of August if not sooner.

Truthfully, however, life has been busy as Tyler and I have worked pretty diligently to get a rough draft of our novel done. The work for me was pretty intense as I wrote myself into a corner or two and failed to discuss it with anyone. The moment I did, Tyler set me straight and work began again in earnest.

And so it happents that the stone has been lifted from the quarry. Now, Tyler will chisel it into some sort of magnificent statue. I, most likely, will just draw funny mustaches and anatomically incorrect doodles. So, fingers crossed, we'll have a draft to submit to all the right people very soon. The day will come, soon enough, that we'll all be begging you to buy a copy of it. It will be called This is Not a Love Song. I think it's gonna be hhhaawwwt. We hope you dig it.

Since finishing my portion of the roughie, I've also started writing a new piece. It's short and I hope to find a home for it. More details on that will be forthcoming soon enough, one way or the other. Who knows, I might even let you read it, yeah?

Also, work should begin on Pike St.'s Radio Silence. Yes. It's been two years since I worked on it in earnest. See a few paragraphs ago. The part about writing a novel. But yeah, here's hoping that Raf and I can get back in there soon and turn the mutha out. As I've recently stopped smoking, it's been a real trip finding out where my new voice is.

As for Ronin Rock?

I hope to have new posts up soon detailing the greatness that I've seen lately. Namely, No Doubt's re-introduction to America and Third Eye Blind reigning supreme at the Sunshine. Probably a few stray thoughts about the passing of MJ and possibly, maybe, I hope, a guest blogger or two.

Finally, one last reason (or rationalization) as to why the long silence. Finishing the rough draft of the album has been a great experience. I've literally grown to a place where I just feel better when I'm writing. Looking at this year's output on music, in itself, has been a great experiment. To see where my ability is in terms of writing music journalism, to see where my failing's and my successes are... It's been fun.

But it dawned on me over the last few shows that I've seen that I can offer better writing if I take it in a more personal direction and adhere just a little less to the parameters of typical music journalism. This is a shift that I think will take a little getting used to and I didn't want to just jump into it as I was finishing a much larger body of work. So please, come back, check it out, lemmeno what you think.

Thanks for reading.

Tripping the night fantastic-
e.m.pennington