Raymond Scott Quintette : War Dance for Wooden Indians

Raymond Scott is awesome. But first, let me clear something up. Raymond didn't write music for the Warner Bros. Looney Tunes cartoons. No, that was Carl Stalling. But Carl 'borrowed' Raymond's themes and such for his scores, in what was considered then an honor and a tribute, but would today be considered a crime and a lawsuit. (Actually Warner Brothers had purchased the rights to the tunes fair and square.)

With that out of the way, because of Carl's scoring work for the WB, you would probably recognize a few of Raymond's more popular works. You'd for sure recognize "Powerhouse" and "Dinner Music for a Pack of Angry Cannibals". You'd probably also be familiar with "The Penguin", "Reckless Night On Board an Ocean Liner", "The Toy Trumpet" and a host of others. And of course you'd recognize today's feature, "War Dance for Wooden Indians".

Raymond was musical adventurist, with a real knack for penning a catchy tune, but he was also a notorious perfectionist. Folks who sat in with him on sessions said he would compose on the piano, playing each instrument's part for them, and the jazz players were supposed to pick up what he was laying down, and nail it quick. And when you listen to how fast the tunes move and how tightly they all fit together, it's amazing that Raymond could project his vision so well.

I have a few recordings of this tune, spanning the century, but I think we'll go with Raymond's original from 1938. The tune kicks off with a stereotypical Native Amercian tom pattern, then into a horn section with some of the horns engaging in a war whoop of sorts, and the others banging out a three-on-two staccato rhythm. Then they break for the main theme, then back into the war whoop. It's followed by a nice horn solo or two, then back to the head. Meanwhile, the drums are breaking and rolling nearly the whole time and the horns are honking away on the funky staccato. It's speedy and deliciously funky, especially for the '30s.

This version comes from the great compilation Reckless Nights and Turkish Twilights, featuring 22 vintage recordings of Raymond's greatest tunes, as played by his six man 'Quintette'.

[#40]

Carl Stone : Mom's

Carl Stone is an electronic music composer, which means you're in for an ear-bending. The album Mom's was released on New Albion records, which generally specializes in very atmospheric sound washes, the ambientest of ambient. There are several pieces like that on this album (one of which I almost chose), but this is not one of them.

"Mom's" the piece is basically a song that has been put through an audio blender. Imagine a CD player that aggressively skips, so that it's always plowing forward, even as it skitters back. In this case, it sounds like someone has seriously abused a CD of zydeco music, so you've got some horns, some fiddle, some crazed accordion and even a little Creole in the mix. It sounds like it would be a mess, but there are two things that hold it together and make it an amazing piece.

First, the result is kind of mesmerizing. Even though the tune has been shattered beyond recognition into a zillion pieces, the pieces themselves are startlingly recognizable. You know something is in there, even if you can't piece together what. To me, it's the audio equivalent of staring into a fire. There's flickers and shapes and the whole thing is completely abstract, but at the same time, fascinating. Your brain is hard-wired to find patterns, and I think part of the fascination in this piece, is that, between the recognizable instruments, the constant stuttering repetition, and the familiar feeling rhythms, it feels like there is a pattern there, even if there isn't.

Second, there is a pattern. I don't know the source material, so I can't say what the original song sounded like, but there is a definite progression through the source material. We are not jumping hither and yon in a random fashion. The skipping itself is localized, staying in one place to cover, over and over, the same bits of sound, before moving on to the next bit. So, in a sense, we get a feel for what the entire song is like, the opening crescendo, the instruments coming in and out, the verses and choruses, without ever actually hearing it. And the overarching structure of the source material brings internal structure to the otherwise crazy, broken sound coming out of the speakers.

It's a truly great work. It's random without being random, startling without being harsh, and somehow manages to be both organic and digital at the same time. "Mom's" is available on Carl's 1992 New Albion release, Mom's. The rest of the album is great too, but it's far more relaxed and ethereal than this piece.

Oh, also, I had to downsample this to 128k, since it's 11 minutes long. I listened and it still sounds good, but just so's you know.

[#39]

Jethro Tull : For a Thousand Mothers

I think Jethro Tull gets a bit of a bum rap in the rock world. Maybe it's because, while half their songs rock heavy ("Aqualung", "Hymn 43", "Cross-Eyed Mary"), the other half sounds like they were stolen from the local Renaissance Faire. Or, maybe it's because they stole the first Heavy Metal Grammy out from under Metallica's "One", even though Metallica had completely blown the song out live on-stage for the Grammy audience not more than fifteen minutes previous.

But Tull (as the fanboys call them) can throw down some serious licks. Say what you will, but their heavy songs are heavy, full of slightly broken proggy blues riffs and furious drumming. And of course, props to Ian Anderson for actually making the flute work as a rock instrument. He gets that thing howling as angrily as any sax or guitar out there. I once knew a flautist who hated Jethro Tull because Ian just played the flute wrong, to which I can only say, "Well, fuck you then" because you're missing the whole point of rock music in the first place.

Speaking of fuck-you's, even though the title sounds like a tribute, it's not exactly Mother's Day material. This piece is a bit of a kiss off to all the mothers and fathers out there who cast doubts on the dreams of their offspring. He's made it, and he's picking you up at eight in his limo to remind you just how seriously wrong you were.

"For a Thousand Mothers" is a serious rocker, with a prog bent. The guitar hammers the riffs hard and is matched in lockstep by the bass and drums, grooving on this 6/8 (maybe 12/8?) rhythm that shifts back and forth between twos and threes. Meanwhile, Ian shreds his flute, seriously pushing it to the limits with all sorts of nasty overtones crashing over the top. There's even a killer post-verse breakdown with just unaccompanied flute. And on top of all this, Ian delivers his parental kiss-off, which is thinly disguised by a rather nice melody. Very hummable.

Then, finally, after the song has been sung and the music fades, they go at it some more. It sounds like they looked at each other and decided, "Screw it, let's jam some more," and they kick it back into gear and jam for another sixty seconds or so, which unfortunately gets the fade out a second time.

You can find "For a Thousand Mothers" on Jethro Tull's 1968 release, Stand Up, which is a great LP, even with all the fay medieval stuff.

Actually, that's stuff's nice too. I just don't want you to think I'm a pansy.

[#38]

Follow Up: Ted Heath & His Music

Whoops. I accidentally posted the incorrect song for #36. Looks like only one person grabbed it so far, but if you did, you got the wrong one. I've fixed the pointer, so all should be good now.

Sorry!

Delaney & Bonnie and Friends : Come On in My Kitchen

There's not much too this song, except that it's a nice version of a Robert Johnson classic. Delaney & Bonnie were a married couple who recorded some albums in the late sixties and early seventies with such heavyweights as Eric Clapton, the Allman Brothers, Leon Russell and George Harrison backing them up. They were somewhat popular for their time, it seems.

The tune follows Robert's blues structure pretty closely with some gospel influences. There's just a little bit of acoustic guitar and piano for accompaniment, with some bongos thrown in as well. It's a very sparse, stripped down sound, so it's very reminiscent of Robert's original, and it sounds like they actually recorded this in a motel somewhere deep in the south. Again, not a blockbuster, but nice.

You can find "Come On in My Kitchen" on Delaney & Bonnie and Friends' 1971 release, Motel Shot. If you'd rather the originals, check out Robert Johnson's 2-disc Complete Recordings box set

[#37]

Ted Heath & His Music : Light My Fire

There are a lot of covers of "Light My Fire" out there. Just a ton. It's one of those songs that somehow became an easy listening staple, and every pop orchestra that ever tackled a rock song managed to cover it.

Actually, I know why. It turns out, the bands aren't covering the Doors, they're covering José Feliciano's Grammy-award winning cover from 1969. Usually you can tell, because they include José's little three-on-two breakdown at the end, as they do on this version.

The songs starts out soft, with some acoustic guitar, vibes and bongos. After a bit, the rest of the band comes in, nice and easy, but like Ike & Tina, Ted takes the beginning nice and easy, but ends the song nice and rough.

Well, as rough as you can get with this crowd.

The horn work is great, and there's not one, but two bongo solos, with another acoustic guitar break halfway through. Also, there's a little bit of organ to spice it up at the end. The arrangement is just impeccable; there's a little bit of everything to make you happy.

"Light My Fire" is off Ted's 1970's release, The Big Ones, which includes excellent covers of "Spinning Wheel" and "Nights in White Satin" among others. The record came out on the Phase 4 Stereo label. There are a number of excellent records on this label & they are distinctly recognizable by the big 4 on the cover. You can't really go wrong with one of these.

[You can listen to Ted Heath & His Music's "Light My Fire" by navigating to the post "Song036" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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The Remains : Don't Look Back

A ton of great rock music came out in the late 60's, as everybody and their brother (and sometimes their sister) wanted to be the next Beatles. And like today's interwebs, which lets everybody and their laptop write, record and distribute their own magnum opus, there were a slew of little garage bands recording actual 45's for local labels. These labels would push the tunes out to local radio and sometimes they would become regional hits.

"Don't Look Back" is a one of these garage rockers from '66. It's got a driving beat and rocks as hard as anything Green Day's released in the past ten years. It's got a hammered three-on-two stuttering stop-start chorus with excellent harmonies and a wild freakbeat breakdown smack in the middle of the tune. And the lyrics are a curious mix of hippie/punk anarchist seize-the-day attitude. It's a fantastic tune.

In the late 70's and early 80's some collectors gathered up some of these garage and psychedelic songs and pumped out a bunch of compilations dedicated to this stuff, primarily the Nuggets and Pebbles series. This one comes from the fantastic Nuggets box set on Rhino records. If you like this stuff, you can't go wrong with it. You can also find it on the re-release of the Remains' eponymous only album.

[You can listen to The Remains' "Don't Look Back" by navigating to the post "Song035" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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MC 900 Ft Jesus : Falling Elevators

MC 900 Ft Jesus is an interesting cat. Yes, his name comes from Oral Roberts, who said he was personally contacted by a 900 ft. Jesus. He's ostensibly a rapper, and he does rap on this album. But he's not very good at it. He's got that whiny-white-guy problem that most white rappers have, but the real problem I have with his lyrics, which are about serial arsonists or serial killers or surrealistic wordplay, are actually pretty sophomoric. They sound like a high-schooler's idea of Lynchian depravity. (Although he did pen the awesome, "Everybody shut up and leave me alone, I'm going straight to heaven", so, props for that.)

But he has two things going for him in my book. First, the music is good. Nice and funky, with deep bass and a driving rhythm. Second, he's got the turntable wizardry of DJ Zero, which, while criminally underused, is still astounding. I still regret I missed the one opportunity I had to see him live. Apparently, he performed a set completely on his own, and he was amazing.

"Falling Elevators" itself isn't so much a rap song as... Well, it's not a rap song at all. Really, it's a rip-off of Bitches Brew/On the Corner-era Miles Davis, with Mark (that's the MC's real name) uttering some decent spoken word over the top. But those are great Miles albums, and this is a near perfect tribute, with a driving bass line, hyper-syncopated dueling drum kits (yay!), a bass clarinet (more yay!), bongos, organ noodlings and just about anything else you can think of that would make it cool. There's even a couple of interludes where a trumpet floats in like a wraith, dominates, then dissipates into the emptiness. It's an aggressively laid-back funk jam and a thing of beauty.

Anyway, I do really dig this album, it's one of my favorites, but I find I tend to listen through the lyrics rather than to them and just hear the music. If you can do that while digging the funk, it could be right for you. "Falling Elevators" comes from MC 900 Ft Jesus' second album, 1991's Welcome to My Dream.

[You can listen to MC 900 Ft Jesus' "Falling Elevators" by navigating to the post "Song034" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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Tim Buckley : Monterey

I'm not sure what Tim Buckley was thinking. After establishing a somewhat decent career as a folk singer, he got fascinated with avant garde music, and started weaving ideas he heard from composers like Iannis Xenakis and free-jazz musicians like Ornette Coleman into his songs. He also began using the, uh... 'full range' of his voice. I guess that means he shrieks and he moans.

I know I sound like I'm knocking it a little, but both Starsailor and Lorca are two of my favorite albums. Like I explained in the article about the Mae Shi, I really dig the deconstruction of rock that manages to keep the rock, and that's what's happening here. There's a repeated riff that the band jams on over and over while Tim gasps and howls over the top of it.

The lyrics read like a hippy-dippy version of a murder ballad. Something bad went down, and the singer was involved somehow, but it's not particularly clear. Still, there's an urgency conveyed by the band and Tim's growling vocals that really sells the song to me.

It may not be your cup of tea, but that's okay, because 1970's Starsailor isn't available on CD anyway. Well, you can get a used copy for like 50 bucks. But you can buy the actual MP3s all legal and stuff, direct from Amazon for 6 bucks. Maybe from iTunes too, I have no idea.

[You can listen to Tim Buckley's "Monterey" by navigating to the post "Song033" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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Ben Vaughn : Avanti

Ben Vaughn has been writing and recording since the mid 80's, and is probably best know for his theme to 3rd Rock from the Sun. He's been in a rock band, as well as dabbled in songwriting, soundtracks, production and, of course, his own projects. He is apparently well-known for being able to faithfully recreate the sound of past decades in his recordings.

"Avanti" is a throwback to the go-go easy listening sound that the big bands took up in the early 60's in order to keep themselves "hip" with the burgeoning rock & roll consumers. They never quite got it, but created some beautiful bastardizations while trying. Stay tuned for some of those in the future. Meanwhile, Ben has captured that era in all its groovy glory. There's the swinging backbeat, the trademark Vincent Bell guitar sound, the funky Hammond, and of course the female chorale 'doo-be-doo'ing their way through the wordless vocals. It sounds like something that would be right at home in a 60's soft porn or exploitation flick. In fact, it sounds a bit like something Piero Umiliani might have written (you remember "Mah Nà Mah Nà", right?).

Anyway, "Avanti" and other pseudo-soundtrack gems can be found on Ben's 2005 release, Designs in Music. It's a solid album and a fun listen.

[You can listen to Ben Vaughn's "Avanti" by navigating to the post "Song032" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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The Ting Tings : Fruit Machine

I love the Ting Tings. Why? I cannot really say, but this was one of my favorite albums of last year; possibly the favorite. It's fun, poppy and raucous, like the good songs from No Doubt. And they really, really know how to craft a hook.

You've probably heard "Shut Up and Let Me Go" as that was a minor hit here in the states. It's a great song. They also had a hit in their native Britain with "Great DJ", which is also a great song. And you might have heard "That's Not My Name", which is another raver that makes you want to shake it like a dancer on Hullabaloo. But I think my favorite might be "Fruit Machine".

First of all, 'fruit machine' is British for 'slot machine' (you know, like 'lorry' for truck or 'loo' for the toilet). So, the song is all about a poor sucker who has it bad for the singer. He's addicted, feeding her money, looking for the payout that only comes sporadically. And she seems pretty happy about it, asking him where the money is. So it's got a sort of snotty vibe to it from the get-go. This is backed up by the driving dance beat and her chanting vocals which crescendo throughout the whole song, building a sort of happy tension that finally breaks in the end with her manically shouting "Ka-CHING!! Ka-CHING!!" You get the most out of the song if you holler it along with her and punctuate the shouts by yanking an imaginary lever. Ka-CHING!

"Fruit Machine" is off the Ting Tings' debut effort, We Started Nothing. It's a great album, as the first side is amazing and the second side holds its own. At 9 songs and 38 minutes, it's exactly the right length too.

[You can listen to The Ting Tings' "Fruit Machine" by navigating to the post "Song031" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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VHS or Beta : Night On Fire

What would happen if Robert Smith of the Cure decided to cut an album with Duran Duran back in '82? You'd probably end up with something that sounded suspiciously like VHS or Beta's Night On Fire. Seriously, the lead singer is a dead ringer for Robert, emitting a strangled bark that emulates almost exactly the way the gothic frontman sings. I think he might even might even be affecting a bit of an English accent, which is odd considering they're from Louisville, Kentucky.

And the band on this album... The bass work is a dead ringer for John Taylor's from "Rio" or even "Girls On Film". The guitar work also sounds eerily familiar, echoing songs from the same period. It's kind of spooky actually. Anyway, it's thrown over a nice dance rock beat, and suddenly you've got a club-worthy release that pays homage to that early MTV sound while still being grounded firmly in the 21st century.

"Night On Fire" can be found on VHS or Beta's 2004 release Night On Fire. Night On Fire is a great album, one of my favorite finds in 2009, especially if you like the Cure or Duran Duran. The band gets away from that formula on some of the other tracks, including some extended instrumental jams, which was a bit surprising, but they're well done. I've listened to some of the other stuff VHS or Beta has done, but it's more dance-oriented, almost to the level of, say, Daft Punk, and not really my bag.

As of this writing, Night On Fire is 0.01 dollars for a used copy at Amazon (plus shipping & handling). How can you pass that up?

[You can listen to VHS or Beta's "Night On Fire" by navigating to the post "Song030" and clicking or right-clicking on the title or the link.]

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Stanley Black : Temptation

In the 50's, after the GI's came home from the Pacific Rim and we adopted Hawaii as our 50th state, there was an explosion of tiki culture in America. Everything remotely related to the Pacific, and by extension anything oriental and even Indian, was considered fascinating. This was true in music as well, as literally thousands of tiki-themed albums were released.

"Temptation" is another of those classic easy listening songs that appears on a bazillion LPs and it's especially popular amongst the tiki crowd, along with "Bali Ha'i", "Moon of Manakoora", "Quiet Village" and others. Stanley Black (real name: Solomon Schwartz) was a British composer and arranger who released a number of easy listening orchestral albums, most of which are top notch. It's hard to go wrong with a Stanley Black album.

Exotic Percussion is a great album, and, as it's name implies, it's chock full of old favorites spiced up with eastern-sounding horns, jungle drums and lots and lots of great percussion. Plus most of the tracks have a female chorus oohing and ahhing along, which just makes the songs doubly awesome. "Temptation" is no exception, kicking off the record with the percussion and horns pounding away, the vocals weaving delicately in and out, and all of the instruments showing off their stereo prowess. They proceed to march through a series of Bolero-like crescendos, ending in a final flourish of horn, drum and voice. Stanley knows how to wring the excitement out of a tune and he definitely pulls out the stops here.

"Temptation" can be found on Stanley's Exotic Percussion album, which you can grab from Amazon off a 2-LP-1-CD deal, or actually get the vinyl. I'd go for the vinyl.

* Art by Shag. He's awesome.

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Blitzen Trapper : Furr

Another band I don't know much about. (The truth is, I don't know a lot about these bands. I just know what I like.) Blitzen Trapper is an 'indie' band, which I think means you don't get to use Auto-Tune, except maybe ironically, and they hail from Oregon, which you can actually hear in their music, if you can believe that. What all that means is they play rock that ranges from 'folk-informed' to ... 'grunge-informed,' I guess. Think: the Byrds or Bob Dylan to a less whiny Nirvana.

This particular song is very Dylan-esque, from the surrealistic lyrics, to the musical delivery (including punctuating harmonica), even down to the vocal style. It's a folk-rock number, with a dark, mysterious feel, dabbling in the supernatural, like an early twentieth-century fairy tale set to music. In it, the singer describes his transformation into a wolf. Not like a werewolf, but like, he wanders around until he's adopted by wolves. Then he grows fur, runs with the wolves for a while, and then wanders back to humanity and settles down and gets married. Really, I don't know what it means, but it sounds good when he sings it, and that's the important part.

This was another example where it was tough to decide which song to pull from an album. The band does a great murder ballad called "Black River Killer", which is like "Folsom Prison Blues" without any of the repentance, and I waffled back and forth, trying to decide which to post. I think "Furr" is probably the better tune, but if you have some way to check out the other one, give it a listen.

Furr tends to lean more towards the folk-rock end of the spectrum, but they do have some harder numbers as well. It was released in 2008 on SubPop records.

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Celia Cruz : Yo Viviré

We had landed in Orlando and were heading into DisneyWorld. I thought, as I rarely do, let's see what's on the radio. But rather than flip on the FM dial and tune into the same homogenous satellite-driven pap, we'd scan the AM dial to see what showed up. I turned it on, tuned it up, and lo and behold, out of the speakers came this driving latin beat, distinctly Spanish, but also vaguely familiar. We're cruising over the blacktop, the sun is shining, everyone's excited about Disney, and the rhythm and horns are just lifting me up. I'm driving and grooving (at the same time, which always makes my wife nervous), and suddenly, as the strings crest over the chorus, I realize, "Holy shit, that's 'I Will Survive'!" and I'm catapulted into sheer giddiness.

Yes, a killer upbeat ass-kicking salsa version of the 70's disco classic. There's not much else to say about it, except that it keeps the fiery spirit of the original, but it's even spicier with the latin rhythms, the horns and the chanted Spanish background vocals. If you're not dancing around the room while you listen to this, you may not have a soul.

Celia Cruz is apparently pretty popular in the latin music community and released a flood of albums between 1958 and 2003, when she passed. You can find this cover on her 2000 release, Siempre Vivire.

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Testament : Riding the Snake

Let's kick the week off with a bang. I first heard this song on the metal channel on Sirius Satellite Radio and it blew me away. It was heavy without being too metally, like early Metallica or Helmet, and they've got Dave Lombardo drumming for them on this album.

Dave is a drumming machine. He started with Slayer and currently performs with Fantômas. His technique is perfect, while still being super-fast and phenomenally heavy. Every beat is perfectly in place, but he still manages to avoid sounding like a machine. Part of conveying "heaviness" in music is using what John Cage once called "grace". It's the ability to play around a note, to add just a little syncopation, to bring life to the music. In this case to drag it a little behind the rhythm, which builds the weight behind the beat. John Bonham was a master at this, which is why he is the best rock drummer to ever walk the earth. Neil Peart, while being a technical master, does not understand grace and does sound like a machine, which is why he is not the best rock drummer (Q.E.D.).

Dave is up there as far as drummers go. He would certainly give John a run for his money, but then Dave never drank himself to death by choking on his own vomit. So John's got him on that one.

Regardless, the entire album is just super-heavy & technically flawless and it rocks like nobody's business. Definitely one of my favorite finds in the past couple of years and it easily ranks in my top 100, although it probably tops the list for ugliest album covers of all time. From 1999, Testament's The Gathering.

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MFSB : Sexy

I feel like ending the week on an up note, so let's go with a little disco. MFSB (which stands for Mother Father Sister Brother, although it's never written that way or as an acronym) was a house band in Philadelphia that backed all sorts of classic soul singers from Wilson Pickett to The O'Jays to Billy Paul. The label also had them put out their own albums of instrumental funk (obviously). MFSB had their biggest hit in '74 with "TSOP (The Sound of Philadelphia)", which was later adopted as the theme to Soul Train. They also did the incredible "K-Jee" on the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack in '77.

"Sexy" falls somewhere in between. It starts with a bit of Meters-like guitar, which pretty much completely disappears once the song gets going. Then it dives straight into that rump-shaking dance beat. After a couple of cycles it's joined by a wisp of porn guitar (chick-a-wow), and then a little later by a super-funky bass line. After four more trips around the beat, there's a bit of a build up, a drum roll, and the strings kick in.

Ahhhhh, the strings. Like hot water down the back of your neck on a cold morning, or good Swiss milk chocolate diffusing across your tongue, the strings swoop in and carry you off, leaving you with a warm melty feeling inside. There's nothing like it. After a bit more of the floaty strings, the band drops back into the main groove and cruises along, carrying on with a little solo sax and keeping up that peppy dancefloor vibe. They try the string trick a few more times, and it's always nice, but it's never quite as good as your first time.

"Sexy" comes from MFSB's '75 album, Universal Love, which isn't available on CD. You can also find it on Love Is the Message: The Best of MFSB which has all their hits and then some.

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The Lost Fingers : Careless Whisper

The Lost Fingers are a gypsy-jazz band from Quebec, which is in Canada. You may not have heard of them, but in 2008, they sold the second most records of any Canadian band (in Canada), right after Nickelback, who you probably have heard of. Named after Django Reinhardt's missing digits, the group models their sound after the same sort of acoustic jump-jazz Django was so great at.

Armed with two acoustic guitars and a stand-up bass, they attack 80's standards (?) with gusto and a Quebecoise accent. They do fantastic takes on "Billie Jean" and "Straight Up" among others. Here, with a little funk and the singer's strained vocals, they nail the raw frustration coursing through this classic Wham! confessional and take it from the dancefloor to a dark, smokey coffeehouse where it belongs.

You can find this tune on their 2008 debut album, Lost in the 80's. It is truly a fun, fabulous album.

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Follow-Up: Tilly and the Wall

I just found out that the reason there is stomping and clapping in that song by Tilly and the Wall is because most of their percussion is generated by mic'ing up one of the singer's tap shoes. Yes, their percussion section consists of tap shoes and clapping. Also, some drum machines. But still, that's awesome. Now I want to see them live.

Emerson, Lake & Palmer : Bitches Crystal

Somehow, Emerson, Lake & Palmer became the poster boys for overwrought, overthought, overblown, craptastic progressive rock; a title which, by all rights and means, ought to go to The Moody Blues, or maybe Marillion. The problem is, all these prog guys were really great musicians. And sometimes great musicians get all wrapped up in the technique and think that the music is about their musicianship and they forget that music needs to be about the music first. Plus, when you're that egotistical, even if you have the chops, it ticks people off. Except for Yngwie Malmsteen fans, who can only be explained by some sort of mass hypnosis.

Regardless, even though some of ELP's stuff could get a little tedious, if you dig a little into their LPs, especially their early stuff, you can find some amazing rock. This is no surprise in that Greg Lake was a founding member of King Crimson, Keith Emerson came from the Nice, and Carl Palmer was with... er, Atomic Rooster.

The tune begins with a little piano noodling, then dives right into the rock. Once it gets going, the song is terminally busy, notes are everywhere. The bass drives the rock, while Carl is just all over the drums, banging away like he's determined to hit as many of his drums as possible in a four minute period without losing the beat. Meanwhile, Keith beats his electric piano up until it's bruised, with not one but two awesome solos, and Greg angrily howls the vocals over the top.

And the lyrics. They're full of evil powers and witches, tortured spirits and ritual killings, all sorts of dark, fanciful images. But when you break it down ... I still don't know what they're talking about. Who's the bitch? Who's the 'you'? I'm just not sure, which I guess just makes it good poetry, so throw whatever meaning on it you like. It still rocks.

"Bitches Crystal" is on ELP's second outing, 1971's Tarkus, which is conceptually about the military-industrial complex. Hence the motorized armadillo on the cover, I suppose.

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Jon : Les Sucettes

Before 50 Cent and Lil Wayne there was Serge Gainsbourg. He penned a little ditty for France Gall called "Les Sucettes", which means, I'm pretty sure, "The Lollipops" in French. While ostensibly being about Annie's anise-flavored lollipops, it's actually full of erotic double entendres and dirty French puns, mostly about lollipops. Go figure.

Serge's popularity went through a little surge back in the late 90's. Like Bacharach before him and Leonard Cohen today, it seemed like anybody who wanted to be taken seriously as a performer had to cover a Gainsbourg tune. About this same time, John Zorn was curating a (sadly short-lived) series of compilations called "Great Jewish Music", in which he would choose a composer of Jewish heritage and get his stable of Tzadik artists to cover a slew of their songs. They handled Bacharach & Gainsbourg, and later Marc Bolan. Sadly, they never got to Paul Simon, Leiber & Stoller or Gene Simmons. Or Barry Manilow. Oh, or Neil Diamond!

Jon, as this artist is known, is another matter. She's Japanese and she plays a pump organ. And that's all I know, as "Jon" doesn't exactly Google well.

I think I promised somewhere that I wouldn't post anything I didn't actually enjoy listening to. And that's important, because there are people who like stuff simply because it's so weird and/or awful that you couldn't possibly actually like it. You should know that, if I offend your ears, it's not because I'm trying to somehow aurally gross you out. I really do enjoy listening to the music on some level. So, no Three Stooges Christmas albums or William Shatner singing Rocket Man, just music I enjoy and think is interesting enough that you should hear it too.

Jon definitely falls into that 'avant-garde' or 'weird' category. First, her voice sounds like a twee little six-year-old, which is somewhat appropriate (and creepy) given the nature of the song. Second, her organ sounds like it's dying of old age. You can hear every creak and moan, every push of the pedals and puff of air. You can almost hear the dust floating about in the dimly lit haunted-house of a room this must have been recorded in. And yet, that's what gives the recording it's appeal for me. The music isn't just in the song, but it embodies the Cagian idea that all aspects of the performance are part of the music; that the wheezes of a dying organ are just as musically important as the notes and lyrics Serge originally penned. I couldn't listen to a whole album of this stuff, but this tune is both fascinating and enjoyable. I hope when you listen to it, you get a chance to revel in the artifact and the atmosphere.

You can find the tune on the excellent Tzadik compilation Great Jewish Music: Serge Gainsbourg. Most of the rest of the tunes are far more traditionally musical than this one (though a few aren't). While you're at it, you should grab the Burt Bacharach one as well. You can skip the Bolan one. I believe they missed Marc's whole point with that comp, and as such, it's just not as good.

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Dan Deacon : Snookered

Yet another artist I don't know a lot about. Dan Deacon is an electronic composer whose works fall somewhere between rock, IDM and electro-acoustic music. I first heard of Dan on a podcast where he actually did a lot of this stuff live, which is just crazy. And it's not just Dan sitting there clicking buttons on his laptop. Lately he's been touring with an actual fourteen person band. So, serious props for that.

This tune is relatively straightforward compared to the rest of his stuff, if you can believe that. It builds from a quiet, reflective sonic pool into a maelstrom of sound. It takes a bit to get going, but once the rhythm kicks in, it drives on straight-ahead, fast and furious. Dan (I assume) sings some very Eno-esque vocals over the top, and garnishes the whole thing with frantic riffs on some sort of malleted instrument and a variety of electronic gewgaws. Plus there's a killer sampled-vocal breakdown in the middle. He rocks on it hard for a few minutes, then suddenly it quits out from underneath you, like the cliff under Wile E. Coyote, and you're back at that reflecting pool at dusk wondering what the hell just ran you over. What's especially neat is, if you listen to the song on repeat, it's tough to tell where the loop actually comes around. It just sounds like one endless eternal song.

This eight-minute rocker can be found on Dan's most recent release, Bromst.

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