Marden Hill : Slalom

There is a weird subset of songs that are from Christmas albums but that aren't per se about Christmas or even winter. Sometimes they don't even have jingle bells. Vince Guaraldi's "Linus and Lucy" is probably the most famous example, inextricably linked to Christmas via A Charlie Brown Christmas for the rest of time.

"Slalom" is from a band called Marden Hill. I couldn't find much out about them, except that they are apparently Él label stalwarts. It sounds like these guys did Shibuya-kei influenced easy listening. As I do research for this essay, I realize, I need to learn way more about these guys and this label.

Regardless, the piece is a bright piece of vocal fluff, along the lines of the Manhattan Transfer, the Swingle Singers or Anita Kerr at her best. The harmonies are sweet and pretty, like a high school crush, and the song does somehow invoke a wintery feel. There are jingle bells in the first few seconds, and an occasional high piano trill to help you imagine falling snow, so it'd probably make a good soundtrack for a romantic evening sleigh ride.

The piece can be found on the Él Records winter compilation, Él Christmas: The World in Winter. You can grab it from Amazon, or directly from the label (scroll down), although I think the "9.95" might be pounds, not dollars.

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Foals : Mathletics

This was a tough one. One of the problems with these posts is that often there are so many good songs on an album, it's tough to pick just one. You want it to be one of the better ones, but not one that maybe lots of people have heard, assuming they've heard of the band at all.

The members of Foals (not The Foals; try not to be so gauche...) all previously members of obscure British math-rock bands before they decided to "have more fun" and put this record together. And that's exactly what it sounds like: a couple of angry prog-loving musicians who decided to cut a dance-rock album. It's something along the lines of Talking Heads meet King Crimson, if you can imagine that.

"Mathletics" (the other songs up for consideration were "Hummer" and "Red Socks Pugie") is probably the strongest rocker of the bunch. It's got a driving rock backbeat that's just littered with the Frippiest guitars you've ever heard this side of, well, Robert Fripp. It hammers along through verse and chorus until it can barely stand, groaning under the collected weight of all those notes, and it crashes into a cathartic, pounding bridge with no fewer than three guitars (plus bass) noising it up. It's like a rock reduction, with all the rest of the crap boiled away, leaving just the pure thick essence of rock. Delicious!

"Mathletics" comes from Foals' first album, Antidotes. It's listed as a 'bonus track', except it seems to be on every version of the album. I guess it was originally a non-album single. Regardless, the album is great, if you like this stuff, but it is not particularly varied, so you need to really like it. I do. One of my favorite albums last year.

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Si Zentner : The Man with the Golden Arm

"The Man with the Golden Arm" is one of those themes, like "The Third Man Theme" or anything by Henry Mancini, that turns up on hundreds of easy listening LPs. This is primarily because it's an awesome tune, one of the many classic themes penned by Elmer Bernstein (some others being "The Magnificent Seven" and "Gunsmoke"). It's a spy-jazz masterpiece, although it wasn't written for a spy movie. The Man with the Golden Arm is about a heroin-addicted drummer who tries to stay clean after being released from prison. It starred Frank Sinatra as Frankie Machine, the drummer, and apparently was one of the first films to deal seriously with the taboo issue of heroin addiction.

Si Zentner was a trombonist and a big band leader in the early sixties and released a couple of albums before rock & roll put him out of business. From Russia with Love is one of my favorites because it's chock full of "crime jazz"; that is, big band tunes with a driving bass, a touch of swing and a horn section that just chugs along. Think "The James Bond Theme" or "Peter Gunn" (both of which are on this album, as is "The Third Man Theme," oddly enough). Or this tune.

The tune kicks off with a sneaky little riff, a baritone sax over a shuffling back beat. Then a horn kicks in and lays the initial groundwork. Pretty soon though, all the horns are chiming in, punching in loud and proud, playing off each other and tearing it up. It rocks.

Unfortunately, this album isn't available on CD as far as I can tell. The Swingin' Eye!!!!!!!! is on a double CD with another album of his, but even though the title implies otherwise, I don't see a single P.I. theme on there. It may be a great album, but I haven't heard it yet, so I can't say. If you're ever in a thrift store and see From Russia with Love though, grab it and wow your friends at your next swank cocktail soirée.

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Mirrorkicks : Bleeding Love

Don't know much about Mirrorkicks, except they are from Britain (I think) and they have a website and a myspace page and a facebook page and a youtube channel and all the accoutrements of a new millennium band trying to make it these days. What they don't have is an album in the stores. I think they've released a single, but that's not this.

This is a cover of "Bleeding Love" by Leona Lewis. It's from CokeMachineGlow's Fantasy Covers of 2008. Apparently this site rounds up a bunch of up-and-coming indie bands and gets them to cover popular songs from that year. Somehow Mirrorkick ended up with this one.

The song itself is interesting to parse. At first it sounds like a paean to the self-sacrifice sometimes necessary for true love: I'm so in love, it just bleeds out of me, I can't even help it. But on further reads, you notice the singer's friends are trying to pull these two lovers apart, and you realize that maybe the cuts and bleeding might not be metaphorical. There's definitely a "He Hit Me (and It Felt Like a Kiss)" vibe going on here.

Did I mention it was co-written by Jesse McCartney? Weird.

Madam Leona's version is somewhat plaintive. It's got a nice modern soul vibe to it, but it's wrapped in a swath of modern production and it ends up being a little glisteny, a bitter pill, but sugar-coated.

Mirrorkicks grabs hold of the song though and bruises it up, dragging it back into the real-life grimy world we all live in. Their track is heavy, loaded down with thick guitar and a loping, tom-heavy 6/8 drum beat. The singer nails the vocal: ragged, raw, pleading, but hopeful. They do such an amazing job, they actually made me like the original more. Give it a listen.

It's not available on any album that I know of, but you can grab it from the CokeMachineGlow website, along with some other great covers. There's a good cover of MIA's "Paper Planes" up there too.

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The 4 Seasons : C'mon Marianne

There's just nobody who can scream a rock & roll falsetto like Frankie Valli. We've all heard his plaintive howl on classics like "Sherry", "Walk Like a Man" and "Big Girls Don't Cry". There's something about a guy nailing that upper register that really helps crank a rock song. (Right, Robert Plant?)

Anyway, in listening to a bunch of 4 Seasons tunes I realized that, while they seem like a happy sunny summertime band, a majority of the tunes are about the lead singer losing his love and a majority of those are about his losing his love because he's actually a cheating fuck. This is one of those songs. Bob Crewe, who co-wrote "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" and "Lady Marmalade", as well as the soundtrack to Barbarella, also helped pen a number of their hits, but this wasn't one of them. That is it wasn't penned by Bob, although it arguably also wasn't that much of a hit, considering it only rose to number nine on the Billboard Pop charts in '67.

Still, it's a bit of a rocker. The rhythm section chugs along nicely underneath as Frankie uses his fabulous upper register to bemoan his tales of woe. Apparently he dabbled a bit on the side and lost his lady, even though this other chick was "a passing fling, and not a permanent thing." But if you were thinking about feeling bad for this guy, realize he starts the song with "Here I am on my knees again," so he's been here before. I really dig how, as the second verse starts, a touch of strings drops in right as Frankie bemoans the fact that her big brown eyes are all full of tears. It's a nice touch. Most of the song is just Frankie crying "Marianne" over and over, but it really works. It's definitely one of my favorites.

You can find this tune on any number of Frankie Valli & the 4 Seasons compilations, including this swell looking number from Rhino records. It's got the big name songs, plus a couple other of my favorites, like "Dawn (Go Away)" which I almost posted instead, and some of Frankie's solo stuff which is great too. It's missing "Alone" though, which is a fantastic song. You'll have to grab that one from iTunes or something.

[You can listen to The 4 Seasons' "C'mon Marianne" by navigating to the post "Song016" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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Jack Jones : Wives and Lovers

My wife and I have started watching Mad Men (season one: don't spoil it!), and we've often wondered how 'true-to-life' the characters are. Were folks really that blunt back then about their feelings towards women and minorities? Burt Bacharach, or probably more accurately Hal David, don't really chime in on the second count, but this song clearly weighs in on the first.

The lyrics are quaint, although somewhat chauvinist in their delivery. I mean, the song opens with "Hey, little girl, comb your hair, fix your make-up," and goes on to exhort us that wives should always be lovers too, because, you know, there are "girls at the office, and men will always be men." The whole song is directed at the lady of the house, assuming, I suppose, that the man is king of the house and beyond reproach and whatnot. Either that, or he's just a hopeless cause.

This Grammy-award winning version is crooned by Jack Jones, who also sang the theme to "The Love Boat", among, I'm sure, more stellar offerings. The music is nice but standard swinging pop orchestra with horns and strings. The song was originally from his 1963 outing fittingly titled Wives and Lovers, but I found my copy on my Burt Bacharach box set, The Look of Love.

[You can listen to Jack Jones' "Wives and Lovers" by navigating to the post "Song015" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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Tilly and the Wall : Pot Kettle Black

I have no idea who Tilly and the Wall are, but they seem sufficiently angry. From their 2008 album awesomely titled, O. This is a rockin' stomper, borrowing somewhat from the White Stripes, until the chorus hits and it breaks into a straightforward very pleasant pop-based hook. All is cruising along just fine, it's a fine song, and then...

Then they break into a funky clap-stomp breakdown that gives me butterflies and puts a smile onto my face every time. Oh yeah ... Clap it up, baby.

Anyway, as I said, I don't know anything about the band, or what their other stuff sounds like. But if you like it, grab a copy for your mom.

[You can listen to Tilly and the Wall's "Pot Kettle Black" by navigating to the post "Song014" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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David Bowie : Good Morning Girl

Well, well, well. Originally I thought this would be a stumper, since I thought this tune had been issued under Bowie's real name, David Jones. Turns out I was wrong. A couple of early singles were issued under variations of his birthname, but by the time this one arrived, he was officially David Bowie, and so began his stellar career.

"Good Morning Girl" finds Bowie at his swingin'est. Brian Eno once called him a musical chameleon, in that he could sing in any style you please. Here, he seems to be channeling Georgie Fame, another Brit swinger from the mid-to-late sixties, or maybe one of the more frenetic Dolenz-penned-and-sung Monkees singles, like "Randy Scouse Git", although they didn't really crest until '67.

The song pops along with an upbeat rock swing and a great hook. Bowie's delivery is quick, almost manic (for him anyway), but the best part is when Bowie drops in some passages of groovy scat. It's a gas, baby!

"Good Morning Girl" is the B-side of the 1966 Pye single "Do Anything You Say", which I've never had the pleasure of hearing, and is available on several Early Bowie packages.

[You can listen to David Bowie's "Good Morning Girl" by navigating to the post "Song013" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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Can : Halleluhwah

Most folks, when they think of the prototypical German music, they imagine Kraftwerk, pristine, precise and mechanical, with neither a hair or a note out of place. But for me, the kings of the German rock scene are Can. They are the anti-Kraftwerk. They are dirty and funky, they improvise, they experiment, they rock.
Can started out in '68 as a bunch of German musicians, rooted in avantgarde classical and jazz music, and an African-American poet & singer named Malcolm Mooney. Malcolm only made it about an album and a half before he suffered a nervous breakdown and had to quit the band. After he left, they drafted Damo Suzuki, a wandering Japanese busker, who stayed with them through the rest of the second album and proceeded to record three seminal albums with the band. Damo's vocals are... unique. Sometimes he sings in English (I'm pretty sure) and sometimes in Japanese (I think). And sometimes I think he just makes shit up. But it doesn't matter, because, like the improvisation from the rest of the band, it always fits the song exactly right.

Can was equally inspired by the avantgarde and experimental movements sweeping through Europe in the 60's, by the progressive rock movement, also sweeping the continent in the 60's, and by funk, which might have made it to the continent, but not so you could really tell. If you ask me who my favorite drummers are, number one is John Bonham and number two would be Jaki Liebezeit. He could bring the funk like nobody's business. He had this amazing way of skittering across the drum set, performing what sometimes amounts to one giant drum solo, while keeping a funk groove going non-stop. He was as funky as Clyde Stubblefield or Zigaboo Modeliste and he was German.

Tago Mago was Can's first full outing with Damo and it has the rawness of the first album, but pulled in jazzier direction with more open structures. To me, "Halleluhwah" (not Hallelujah mind you) epitomizes all that is Can. It's raw, open and funky. On top of the funk, there's guitar riffage, electronic noodling, a violin solo and whatever else the boys can think to bring to the table. And of course, there's Damo's near-brilliant vocals. I'm not exactly sure what he's saying, something about his brother, I'm pretty sure, but he means it. And it's long; it clocks in at over 18 minutes of awesome and never dulls. And did I mention it's funky? Jaki and Holger Czukay rock that rhythm hard for the entire song. A brilliant song off a brilliant album from a brilliant band.

My personal mp3 of this song is over 26mb, so I had to scale it back to mono (you don't lose much) and resample it to 56kbps, which is the equivalent of 112kbps stereo. That still puts it at nearly 8mb, but I listened to it and I think it sounds fine. So, enjoy this truly epic piece. As I mentioned before you can find it on their 1971 release, Tago Mago. Although if you are just starting out with Can, I'd probably recommend Ege Bamyasi as a better LP to start with, then work forward and backward from there.

[You can listen to Can's "Halleluhwah" by navigating to the post "Song012" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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Jake Holmes : Dazed and Confused

This one might sound a little familiar. It's a killer tune that Jake Holmes lays down; a dark psychedelic folk jam with a middle-eastern vibe about a woman who won't do right. It's got a mean descending bass riff and there's a fantastic breakdown in the middle where he taps a voodoo rhythm out on the guitar body. The whole thing culminates in a frenzy of strumming that stops so dead, you'd think they accidentally pulled the plug on the four-track.

Well, maybe they did. I wasn't there.

But, aside from being an amazing song in its own right, the song's got a history (which you've already realized, if you're listening to it). Yes, Jake came first and Jimmy came second. It's another in the long line of tunes that, er... shall we say "inspired" Led Zeppelin.

This one's available on his self-aggrandizing album "The Above Ground Sound of Jake Holmes", which I haven't heard, and also on the nifty compilation "The Roots of Led Zeppelin".

[You can listen to Jake Holmes' "Dazed and Confused" by navigating to the post "Song011" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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