1973: My Death Trip

[Betterout]

As you all know, I died young in the early 70s. Well, at least my former self did. I'm now all but convinced that I was born sometime during the Truman administration right alongside rock n' roll, listening to the early masters in my youth, coming into my adolescence during the British Invasion, achieving adulthood during the heyday of psychadelia, spending long evenings in college listening to proto-punks on my hi-fi, and dying with a "Vincent" on the turntable. I had to hurry up and die so that I could be born again in 1974. But this former life is how I explain my undying love for the music of late 60s and early 70s.

This week I picked up two "new" albums that I would certainly have loved in my last full year of life, 1973. These two records are some of the foundations of what would later be called punk rock, "Raw Power" by Iggy and the Stooges and the self-titled debut by the New York Dolls. I thought I'd briefly compare and contrast these albums here as a tribute to that former iteration of me, who doubtlessly did the same with friends and family at that time.

First off, I can't imagine either of these albums existing without the musical contributions of three acts mentioned above, the Rolling Stones, the Velvet Underground, and David Bowie (in turn I can't imagine Bowie without VU, and VU without the Stones). The Stones have always been the liquid essence of rock n' roll, a dirty synthesis of blues, gospel, soul, country, and swing. The Velvets took this primal mass and added their bleak urban outlook and artistic vision. Bowie of course ran with this latter, and turned the focus back on sex and death rather than drugs and death. With all these elements to draw from, the Stooges and the Dolls seem powerful inevitabilties of form.

With that in mind, I'd say there are two distinct flavors in these 1973 releases. Iggy and crew are protean in nature, intense, loud, and destructive. They simultaneously occupy the spasm of birth and the throes of death--creation and apocalypse. In this way, they seem much more influenced by the Stones and the Underground. New York Dolls in contrast are much more refined, poppier, and extremely campy, and as such they are the sons of the Stones and Bowie. But, they don't lose track of their rock roots. In fact, I'd say they are the definitive middle ground between the Stones and the Sex Pistols: Not as good as the former, and not as bad as the latter. The influence game is important to both acts. They appear to be very aware of what has come before, and in some manner even certain of what will come next. As such, these two albums seem not only to define the emerging trend, but also to define its future borders, and even attempt to transcend them by divine example.

I'll start with "Raw Power." This album is hard to listen to. Its famously terrible production (which both Bowie and Iggy have taken credit for, despite the fact that only Bowie's name appeared on the credits) really is as bad as you might imagine. The reissue I picked up is Iggy's remix, but it's still as crappy as anything I've ever heard, and it's next to impossible to audit loudly without constantly tweaking either the EQ or the volume knob. That said, it's a great album, very much in the vein of VU's "White Light/White Heat," but much more intense in its musical delivery. This album makes heavy use of multiple layers of distorted guitars, and screaming leads that seem to start and finish with the song, and just stay crazily busy in all points between. I think the bass and drums are mixed far too low, because you can just barely perceive their thunderous venom. Atop the whole thing is Iggy, who provides enough howling sex and drug references to ensure his place in the pantheon of amazing rock frontfolk. The two best known songs on this album are probably the two best: "Search & Destroy" and "Gimme Danger." Both are ferocious and frightening, but completely infectious. I'd say the bluesly "I Need Somebody" is right up there, too. It's a classic case of what Simon LeBon called discord and rhyme. The other songs are repetitious noise, but they are so on a grand scale. The thing is, this album really lives up to its name. It's raw and powerful, or perhaps powerfully raw. While the songs are excellent, they leave me not wanting to listen to them in particular as much as I want to hear more by this band as a whole. By the way, Iggy had apparently intended this album to be so powerful that it would physically hurt people when they listened to it. I think he came close.

It would be a two-fold insult to lump the New York Dolls into a polished category, but in contrast to "Raw Power" that's just how "New York Dolls" sounds. The mix has headroom that the songs take up completely, but it doesn't sound nearly as clausterphobic or harsh as what the Stooges came up with. The lyrics here are crass and intentionally vulgar, whether David Johansen (who would later go on to be the annoying crooner Buster Poindexter) decides to sing about beautiful, gloom-obsessed looking girls shooting up heroin ("Looking for a Kiss") or a so called rock n' roll nurse who just keeps feeding him drugs despite his weak protestations ("Pills"). Musically, the band is loose and freewheeling, with growling guitars and even an over-the-top piano glissando here and there. This band, like the Stooges, is scarcely talented, but they do what they're supposed to do in such a great way that it's hard to imagine talent helping them.

All in all, I'd say these two albums are very fun and mindless enough to beg you to crank them as loud as possible. They're wonderful gems I'm sure I would have enjoyed in my last full year of my rock n' roll life.

[Jeff]

Here is an odd admission: I have always harbored the suspicion that Justin is the reincarnated version of a famous person who died in 1973. I mean that while I really don’t believe it’s true, whenever I hear that someone interesting died that year, I always ask myself, “Could that be Justin?” I guess I am really sharing a neurosis with you; hope you don’t mind. So here are my five main candidates:

Alan Watts (1915-1973)
J. R. R. Tolkein (1892-1973)
Pablo Picasso (1881–1973)
W. H. Auden (1907-1973)
Bruce Lee (1940-1973)

There are lots of other famous people who died that year, like Pablo Neruda and L.B.J., but I know that Justin isn’t any of them.

Now, after reading Justin’s essay, I’d say that he is most likely Alan Watts or Bruce Lee. Watts lived like a young man when he died and Lee was one. Both liked rock music, too. So Justin—and I mean this completely non-rhetorically—who do you think you are, uh, were?

Jeff

PS Great essay, though if the Stones define "the liquid essence" of rock and roll, then I don't much like the form.

[Betterout]

I don't think I was any of those guys. In fact, I'm not sure that I was even a guy. But I have always assumed I was born in or near 1950. I think I was an American, and possibly even a Native, but I'm not sure beyond that point.

But as for your choices, I am asstounded by the fact that they were almost all artists and thinkers. I guess it was a tragic year for self-expression. If I had my druthers, though, I'd want to be either Picasso or Lee. Viva el Jeet Kune Do!

Jeff, you're wrong about the Stones--although you don't want to admit it, you like rock n' roll BECAUSE of them. Had they not existed, we'd all be rocking out to the latest incarnation of Gilbert O'Sullivan or Air Supply.

[Jeff]

Justin,

I don’t want to bore everyone with my silly prejudices, but I really don’t like the Stones. Quite apart from my loathing of the personalities of their (mainly) tone deaf fans, I just don’t like their songs. Their best, to my mind, is Brown Sugar—feel free to disagree, just don’t say Wild Horses or Sympathy for the Devil, because those songs suck dick! When I try to listen to Brown Sugar, I have to mentally conjure the song that they were too drunk or stoned to actually play, because what they deposited on the tape was nearly wholly unfocused gibberish. I once read in Rolling Stone that even going into the session to do the recording the song was going to be called Black Pussy. That, in itself, tells you something about the level of imagination the band has.

That said, I freely admit that many bands I do like were inspired by them. Perhaps it is the case that these other bands had more taste and talent than the Stones.

I know this is all prejudice on my part. I like music from the late 50’s until about 1972 or 1973. Then music starts to pretty much suck. Especially the line of thought that developed from the Stones, I think sucks. Music starts to sound original again—to me!—in late 1979 or 1980. That originality lasts three or four years. By 1985 music pretty much sucks as bad as it ever did till say 1998 till now, which is the worst period in popular music known to me.

Feel free to criticize my silly views wantonly.

Jeff

[Guest Justin]

Jeff, of course you know that I disagree with you at every step along the way in this matter.

The old saying goes that there's no accounting for tase. But the thing is, I know you don't believe that garbage. Your whole philosophical framework is rooted in aesthetics. That said, I've never really heard a convincing argument from you about this other than just "these guys suck," or "their music is crap."

I'd very much like to hear a stronger aesthetic argument from you sometime, because I think I could hold my own in such a debate--in fact, I think I could probably beat you in it based on the strength of your current arguments (but I know you can do loads better than what you've offered so far). It's not that I'm a great debater or anything, it's just that I don't think you really have much of a position outside of 'I don't like it.' Meanwhile I know the history and their place in it, I know their material, I know their impact. That all leads me to the conclusion that they're "the liquid essence of rock n' roll." I think I can demonstrate this to you over time. (By the way, I had once intended to do this preemptively, in an essay I was going to call "Butt for Brains: A Quick-Reference Guide to Appreciation of the Glorious Music of the Rolling Stones for the Understimulated Intellectual").

But you do have the trump card. If at any time you decide to take this debate out of its narrow little rock field, and start arguing that rock n' roll itself is no good, I wouldn't have a leg to stand on. That's at the core of my being, and I'd never concede that point, despite the fact that I don't have really great arguments for it. I'd just have to say, "But...no it's not..." However, I have a sneaky suspicion that you don't want to go there. At any rate, I'd be very interested in hearing your ideas--not just reiterations of your opinions.

Oh, I also know I'm in a minority here on the board. I don't think I know any other tone deaf fans, such as myself. So, if anyone else wanted to join in, I'd be more than willing to extend this challenge to all parties.

[Jeff]

So, you want an aesthetic evaluation of pop music? We have to go braoder than rock, because if you are right that rock is what the Stones did and what grew from what they did, then I probably don't like it very much. Can I suggest a primer sort of task? Let's list 100 of the most important pop acts (artists or bands) in the last 50 years. When you do this, divide your list into acts your really like, those you are indifferent to, and those which you hate. Then go into each of those three sublists and order them, e.g., from most hated to least hated. I think that would give each person a reasonably clear idea of their intuitive aesthetic tastes.

Then we can bring on the aesthetic criteria. Out of the gate, my question would be do these criteria merely describe the tastes we already have or do they serve some function in self-discovery? I would argue that perhaps their most important function is the latter. But that argument can wait.

Do you like this idea or should we approach things differently?

Jeff

[Betterout]

Mandy ordered me a few CDs for my birthday, and two of them finally came in this week. One is a two-fer package from the band Big Star, combining their first two albums in their entirety. The first, "#1 Record," was recorded in 1972, the other, "Radio City," in 1973. I got home pretty late last night, so I haven't had a chance to listen to it in full. I will say that, from what I've heard so far, "Radio City" is way better than "#1 Record," which is by no means bad. I'll post a little review of these when I've had some more time to listen. For those of you who have never heard of Big Star, they're one of the most respected of the American practictioners of power-pop, a genre celebrating the trinity of the Beatles, Beach Boys, and the Byrds. They're also one of the biggest disappointments in this movement, as the band seemed to have imploded before it really began. And while I'd never advocate illegal .mp3 downloads, I would at least suggest that newcomers look for the titles "September Gurls" [sic] and "Life is White" from "Radio City" and perhaps "The Ballad of El Goodo" and "Feel" from "#1 Record." And, as always, be sure and check out the write up about them at allmusic.com or another trusted music site.

The other CD that came in the mail was the soundtrack to one of my favorite rock movies, "Velvet Goldmine," Todd Haynes's boy-on-boy Citizen Cane send-up romp through the history of glam, with names changed (or amalgamated) to protect the guilty. This movie is a must, of course, for folks like me who love the music of this time, even if it's hopelessly over the top at almost every opportunity. One of the primary conceits of this movie is that two or more historical personalities (or portions of those personalities) are lumped into a single character whose name suggests its components. The same is true of the soundtrack. Here we see the old meeting the new in a fun and exciting way. Original tracks and covers are side by side, performed by ad hoc bands composed of battle-worn glam and proto-punk veterans with slavish assistance from slightly more modern musicians who owe their fame to the doors opened by their forebears. For instance, Thom Yorke and Johnny Greenwood from Radiohead, Bernard Butler fomerly of Suede, and Paul Kimble from Grant Lee Bufflalo play alongside Andy MacKay from Roxy Music in a band named the Venus in Furs, after a Velvet Underground song of the same title. Likewise, the Stooges' Ron Asheton joins forces with Thurston Moore and Steve Shelley from Sonic Youth, Mark Arm from Greenriver/Mudhoney, and Mike Watt from the Minutemen/fIREHOSE. The music is a pure distillation of the tunes from that age. Essentially, if you were ever unsure about what exactly constituted glam, buy this album and listen to it. By the way, this album was of course unavailable to me in my last year of my life. But many of the songs were there, and the spirit is spot on.

[Jeff]

I've heard three of these so far, and I like them quite a lot.

"The Ballad of El Goodo" -- It is impossible for me to believe that this was recorded in 1972. (Just like I can't imagine Eno doing Third Uncle in 1974.) El Goodo sounds like an 80s ballad. I wonder what it feels like to know the future...

"Life is White" -- Reminds me of Matthew Sweet more than anything else. If I didn't know who it was in advance I would say this song was a MS demo from 1985 or so.

"September Gurls" -- I know I've heard this song somewhere before done by someone else. I can't remember who did it, though. I think it was a girl band, actually.

I am just going to DL both CDs; pretty cool, Justin.

[It was the Bangles. Clip here: www.mp3.com/albums/1057/summary.html ]

[PS My comments about El Goodo were based on a live/acoustic version of the song that I found, Justin. Not the CD version, which I just now heard. I put the live version in the briefcase for you if you don't already have it.]

[Betterout]

Listening to Big Star a lot lately. I hate to say this sort of thing, becuase it only suggests something bad instead of actually confirming it, but I really believe that once Chris Bell was out of the picture (or just an uncredited member of the band), they got excellent fast. Alex Chilton seems to be a better songwriter in almost every respect (but also more tortured, more neurotic). With Bell gone, Chilton simply shines. Consequently, the album Radio City just gets better and better the more I listen to it. Amazing tracks abound, including the aforementioned "Life Is White" and "September Gurls," but also the frightening stream-of-conscious "Daisy Glaze," the haunting "Morpha Too," and pretty much everything else on the album. It's just great--best word I can think of to describe it. Well, maybe sloppy, too, but that somehow just adds to its urgency.

Acting on a whim, last night I made my first legitimate .mp3 album purchase via iTunes. I bought their next album, which has numerous names, including Big Star 3rd, Third, and Sister Lovers. I've been listening to it at work today. One word review of this one: Wow. I just can't get over how strange and beautiful it can be, while at the same time being so inaccessible and emotionally unrefined. The music goes from sad to sadder followed by moments of nearly unlistenable mania. Lots of covers--some bizarre covers. Tunes made popular by the Velvet Underground, Nat King Cole, the Kinks, and Jerry Lee Lewis butt right up next to Chilton's quirky originals. He even tries his hand at a modern Christmas hymn:

Jesus Christ
Angels from the realms of glory
Stars shone bright above
Royal David's city
Was bathed in the light of love
Jesus Christ was born today
Jesus Christ was born
Lo, they did rejoice
Fine and pure of voice
And the wrong shall fail
And the right prevail
And we're gonna get born now

And he's not afraid of playing on some very dark strings. In the happily titled "Holocaust," the lyrics are as depressing as they are cruel: 'Your mother's dead, you're on your own ... Everybody goes, leaving those / Who fall behind ... You're a wasted face, you're a sad-eyed lie / You're a holocaust.' Not exactly joyful, it resonates like the chiming final chorus of "Daisy Glaze" off Radio City: 'You're gonna die, yes, you're gonna die / Right now / You're gonna die, gonna decease.'

Anyhoo...

Yeah, Third/Sister Lovers came out during my current lifetime (1975), but it's still an interesting album, and I'd highly recommend it to all of you. Play it loud during your finest 'Old Sad Bastard' times. Can't go wrong. I do think Radio City is better, but only because I could listen to it driving home from work and not feel the need to steer into oncoming traffic.

BTW, here's a silly write up about Third/Sister Lovers as found on www.allmusic.com. Enjoy!

Review by Jason Ankeny

A shambling wreck of an album, Big Star's Third/Sister Lovers ranks among the most harrowing experiences in pop music; impassioned, erratic, and stark, it's the slow, sinking sound of a band falling apart. Recorded with their label, Stax, poised on the verge of bankruptcy, the album finds Alex Chilton at the end of his rope, sabotaging his own music long before it can ever reach the wrecking crew of poor distribution, indifferent marketing, and disinterested pop radio; his songs are haphazardly brilliant, a head-on collision between inspiration and frustration. The album is a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, each song smacking of utter defeat and desperation; the result is either one of the most vividly emotional experiences in pop music or a completely wasted opportunity, and while the truth probably lies somewhere in between, there's no denying Third's magnetic pull — it's like an undertow. Although previously issued on a variety of different labels, Rykodisc's 1992 release is the initially definitive edition of this unfinished masterpiece, its 19 tracks most closely approximating the original planned running order while restoring the music's intended impact; in addition to unearthing a blistering cover of the Kinks' "At the End of the Day" and a haunting rendition of Nat King Cole's "Nature Boy," it also appends the disturbing "Dream Lover," which distills the album's messiest themes into less than four minutes of psychic torment.

[Jeff]

Justin,

I've been listening to Big Star, too. I concur with your judgment that Chilton is the better songwriter. At first I didn't know who wrote what. When I listened to Radio City, I'd note the best songs and then look up who wrote them: mostly Chilton. I think he has more of an image of song structure. His songs develop in ways that I like. I also like the harmonies that he writes.

I still haven't listened to Third, yet. If I get time I will do so over the holiday weekend.

Thanks for reintroducing me to this band. I had forgotten about them, though I seem to remember them from somewhere before. Who was it (Maybe Big Dave) that talked to me about Big Star in the 1980s?

[Betterout]

admin said:

I think he has more of an image of song structure. His songs develop in ways that I like.

I agree. In fact, I probably ought not be listening as much to this band as I have been. Chilton's songwriting style on Radio City is at times way too similar to the musical directions I've been taking of late. A song like "O, My Soul" sounds so much like a jam my former band may have cooked up in the garage that I find myself slipping into my own hyper-self-critical mode when listening to it! I think, 'oh, that change was no good--it will need to be corrected--but that solo was great.' There are, of course, thousands of differences between the Big Star style and mine, most of them major. But I can imagine myself slipping a little too easily into Chilton's head, choosing options I would not normally choose. I don't want that.

[Jeff]

There is a stong "Justin-vibe" to this band. On Radio City the songs that make me think most of your style are Daisy Glaze (especially when it speeds up), She's a Mover (the rhythm guitar ideas), September Gurls (the guitar on the chorus and the too compressed guitar sound throughout), and Life is White. The last one especially. You could have written it...shortly before you died, of course.

[Jeff]

Here is another candidate for the Justin's pre-reincarnated existence: Henry J. Darger (1892-1973). This one is a little strange to be our Justin but is creative and reclusive enough.

www.hammergallery.com/Artists/darger/Darger.htm
www.acer-access.com/~[e-mail]/
www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00094ARX2/qid=1133735871/sr=8-3/ref=pd_bbs_3/102-3084163-6241711?n=507846&s=dvd&v=glance

[Betterout]

This guy sure had a real love of naked kids. I wouldn't be all that happy to share his soul.

[Jeff]

Yes, I don't think you and he have so much in common. But you never know. His sister was given up for adoption by his parents, and that seems to have permanently hurt him. He suffered other permanent injuries at a young age, too. Add to that the fact that he grew up in a time in which there was little upward mobility, little hope for bettering oneself, and I think you have at least a partial explanation for his insular and possibly insane self-expression.

I always wonder about the permanent injuries. Nietzsche has that foolish line about what does not kill us. He seems to forget about such injuries, the ones that gradually accure until the feeling of drowning is one's near constant thought before the end.

[Jeff]

Fading Star: Big Star returns to its own party, 30 years too late.

www.slate.com/id/2126964/