The Long Ryders are quite possibly the 5000th best band of all time. They were active in the '80's as part of the Paisley Underground scene. This was a scene of bands that lovingly recreated '60's and '70's hard-rock and psychedelic music informed by punk rock. Well-written, well-performed, and energetic, these bands are mostly forgotten. The movement was a reaction to the primitivism of L.A. Hardcore. The best-known bands to come out of that scene were the Bangles and Mazzy Star (which was an offshoot of a side-project of members of the Dream Syndicate and the Rain Parade). Overall, the bands in that scene made some pretty good music, and if you're at a record store that has used vinyl, you really couldn't go wrong picking up something by the Dream Syndicate, the Rain Parade, the Three O'Clock, or the Long Ryders themselves. And if you're at a college radio station, go dig through the vinyl stacks, pull out those records, find the adoring reviews written by DJ's and check out the visible track burn on the platter.
The Long Ryders were led by country-rock devotee Sid Griffin. He was so heavily indebted to the Byrds, Buffalo Springfields, and the Flying Burrito Brothers that their first full-length Native Sons reproduces the cover of a Buffalo Springfield album. And what a fine album it was. "Ivory Tower" features Gene Clerk on vocals and would rank highly in the Byrds cannon if it had actually been written by them. "Run Dusty Run" is a driving number about betting on a horse race in order to have money to elope. "Never Got to Meet the Mom" is a cute song about trying to say that right thing to a liberal girl. In fact every song on the record is pretty good. Generally, it's fun and upbeat and the band members seem like good guys with good record collections.
I like this band, and I listed to their albums every couple of months. And while 5000th is awfully high on the list of all bands, if you haven't heard this band, it's not worth making a huge effort to hear them. A couple of their albums are very well-done but they are not some forgotten '80's masterpieces like Mary Margaret O'Hara's albums. The Long Ryders were not very sonically original. I'm not sure that their melding of country rock and punk is all that noteworthy given X's much less-contrived take on the same a couple years earlier. And there's little to tie them to their time as a historical piece. Even the take on a liberal girl's political checklist in "Never Got to Meet the Mom" ring false. If you're going to compare country-classicist singer-songwriters, the handful of really great songs that Ryan Adams has written wins against the Long Ryders. I guess the band has reunited and I'd see them if they were in town. But since the mid-80's, Sid Griffin has found his natural calling as a music historian.
I suppose this post makes it sound like I hate the band. But it's more my attempt to explain what a rock band is up against. If you're given the choice between hearing a Byrds album or a Long Ryders album (which you would have in a record store if there were any left), the choice is pretty straightforward. Maybe if you like seeing live music, they would have been a fun night out with friends twenty-five years ago. And it is perhaps even worse now that you can call up entire back-catalogs from iTunes or sample old videos on youtube. And unfortunately, the solution a lot of bands try to the problem or originally is quirk. As in some odd production tricks or arrangements. Like double-tracked falsettos, or cracked notes, irritating grooves, or an almost unnerving over-reliance on space and emptiness (apologies to fans of Bon Iver, Bonnie Prince Billy, Bon Animal Collective, and Bonny Grizzly Bear). Embracing your lack of originality (see garage-band revival of 2002) is not a better solution.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The Iron Law of Gaga
Sometime last summer, my friend Matt or I formulated the Iron Law of Lady Gaga. It was "either you know who Lady Gaga is or you have retirement savings but not both." This was inspired by Matt's observation, after too many nights spent at some of Austin's douchier establishments, that there was a certain side of pop culture that virtually everyone in a particular subculture is familiar with. There are quite literally ten to twenty songs that are on repeat on your local autotune-FM station. At this particularly moment, some of them are by Lady Gaga, the Black Eyed Peas, Ke$ha, Jay Shawn, etc. You can literally familiarize yourself with all of them in under two hours. Anyways, this was before all of the articles intellectualizing Lady Gaga.
After formulating the Law of Gaga, we tried it out on groups of older people and it seemed to hold. I shared it with my parents. Within a week, they had each called me to tell that they had either gotten into a discussion about Gaga or seen her on TV. Isn't she outrageous. Since I will not be able to support my parents in their retirement, I am forced to declare the Iron Law of Lady Gaga does not hold. Less frivolously, as The Last Psychiatrist
would say, "if you're listening to it, it's meant for you." So Gaga the phenomenon after Summer 2009 is a different beast than Gaga the musician as of Summer 2009.
How to correct the Iron Law of Gaga? There's delving into the Gaga phenomenon which I'd rather not do at length. (My take: She writes pretty good songs. Someone was bound to hybridize Daft Punky dance-lite with R&B, and she does it well. The attitude expressed in her songs towards nightlife, dating, men, women and the way that it seems to resonate is kind of interesting. The things she says about her songs are not.) You could revise it to "Either you know the ten to twenty songs currently on repeat on your Top X radio station or you have retirement savings, but not both." This does not have the same resonance as the original formulation.
After formulating the Law of Gaga, we tried it out on groups of older people and it seemed to hold. I shared it with my parents. Within a week, they had each called me to tell that they had either gotten into a discussion about Gaga or seen her on TV. Isn't she outrageous. Since I will not be able to support my parents in their retirement, I am forced to declare the Iron Law of Lady Gaga does not hold. Less frivolously, as The Last Psychiatrist
would say, "if you're listening to it, it's meant for you." So Gaga the phenomenon after Summer 2009 is a different beast than Gaga the musician as of Summer 2009.
How to correct the Iron Law of Gaga? There's delving into the Gaga phenomenon which I'd rather not do at length. (My take: She writes pretty good songs. Someone was bound to hybridize Daft Punky dance-lite with R&B, and she does it well. The attitude expressed in her songs towards nightlife, dating, men, women and the way that it seems to resonate is kind of interesting. The things she says about her songs are not.) You could revise it to "Either you know the ten to twenty songs currently on repeat on your Top X radio station or you have retirement savings, but not both." This does not have the same resonance as the original formulation.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The Homesick Blues and the Radical Views, or How I Lost My Indie-Rock Credibility
I know that Rod Stewart has been a punch-line for over 30 years, but that doesn't keep his first four records (and the stuff with the Faces) from being really terrific. He is a punch-line because his early stuff was so great. Lester Bangs mentions hanging out with him and the Faces, and he even wrote a short story about Maggie May." Hell, Rod probably deserves rock and roll heaven for penning, "I could steal my daddy's cue and make a living out of playing pool."
But here we give a listen to "You Wear it Well" fron Never a Dull Moment.
In these facebook days, the situation is now more familiar than when the song was written. The narrator is writing to get back in touch with an old girlfriend. He tries, to be nonchalant, "I have nothing to do this hot afternoon but to settle down and write you a line." He blames himself for the break-up, and imagines her thinking that "he must be sinking or else he wouldn't try to get in touch with [her]."
He reminiscences about days spent more freely:
He is stumbling over things to write about and reminding himself to "write about the birthday gown I bought in town" that she wore with a grace defying the times. And then his current situation comes into view belying his initial coolness. He's on a coffee break and trying to put a letter together before has to get back to work. And he's not just missing this girl but his youth and days he could spend at parties and rock and roll shows. The song was written in 1972, well into the 60's hangover, so he's also remembering more radical times. And seeing their cost. And yes, "The homesick blues and radical views haven't left a mark on you" is just brilliant. He seems to have survived even if he's laboring at some stupid job. But he's also a little pathetic: "I don't object if you call collect." And then he sends off the letter not even sure if it'll reach her: "After all these years, I hope it's the same address."
Of course, I focus on the lyrics but the music is great. A hard-driving folky stomp with violin and swelling organ. Some touches of blue-eyed soul but without any Joe Cocker ministrelsy.
One of my favorite songs. My radio show was even briefly renamed, "The All Day Rock and Roll Show." But mostly so I could start mic breaks with, "You're listening to the All Day Rock and Roll Show. We'll be here for another hour."
I learned about this song through the boozily affectionate Mekons cover. I was surprised that it was a Rod song, and bought Never a Dull Moment at Vinyl Solution for a buck.
But here we give a listen to "You Wear it Well" fron Never a Dull Moment.
In these facebook days, the situation is now more familiar than when the song was written. The narrator is writing to get back in touch with an old girlfriend. He tries, to be nonchalant, "I have nothing to do this hot afternoon but to settle down and write you a line." He blames himself for the break-up, and imagines her thinking that "he must be sinking or else he wouldn't try to get in touch with [her]."
He reminiscences about days spent more freely:
Remember them basement parties, your brother's karate
the all day rock and roll shows
Them homesick blues and radical views
haven't left a mark on you, you wear it well
A little out of time but I don't mind
He is stumbling over things to write about and reminding himself to "write about the birthday gown I bought in town" that she wore with a grace defying the times. And then his current situation comes into view belying his initial coolness. He's on a coffee break and trying to put a letter together before has to get back to work. And he's not just missing this girl but his youth and days he could spend at parties and rock and roll shows. The song was written in 1972, well into the 60's hangover, so he's also remembering more radical times. And seeing their cost. And yes, "The homesick blues and radical views haven't left a mark on you" is just brilliant. He seems to have survived even if he's laboring at some stupid job. But he's also a little pathetic: "I don't object if you call collect." And then he sends off the letter not even sure if it'll reach her: "After all these years, I hope it's the same address."
Of course, I focus on the lyrics but the music is great. A hard-driving folky stomp with violin and swelling organ. Some touches of blue-eyed soul but without any Joe Cocker ministrelsy.
One of my favorite songs. My radio show was even briefly renamed, "The All Day Rock and Roll Show." But mostly so I could start mic breaks with, "You're listening to the All Day Rock and Roll Show. We'll be here for another hour."
I learned about this song through the boozily affectionate Mekons cover. I was surprised that it was a Rod song, and bought Never a Dull Moment at Vinyl Solution for a buck.
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