I first came across this video when it was referred to in an article on Paid Content. The story detailed the copyright issue EMI asserted over the posting of this police cruiser surveillance video on YouTube after it was submitted as evidence in the legal proceedings related to the incident preceding the footage.
Seriously? I know EMI is a huge (read, idiotic) corporation passively overseeing the demise of a dying enterprise, but surely even the suits who once ruled Britannia’s recording biz must realize that this viral video phenomenon can do nothing but possibly prompt the sale of a few more copies of Queen’s iconic “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
Anyway, all that aside, the video is entertaining. It can’t possibly have helped the defendant’s case in court. But forgive the singing and you have to admire his unimpaired memory and perseverant rendition of the tune Wayne and co. immortalized in another backseat performance.
Bill Frisell’s current trio with Eyvind Kang and Rudy Royston goes by the name Beautiful Dreamers, after their eponymous album of last year. It’s an apt moniker for the majestic tapestry of transportive music the trio weaves.
With Kang on violin and Royston on drums, the soft-spoken bespectacled guitarist again graced the stage of Narrows Center in Fall River, Mass., last night. Like last year’s show there (see my write up of that concert here), it was a magnificent palette of colorful sounds and musical interplay.
What this trio does is a jazzy take on Americana, flavored with modern effects and occasional new-agey elements – all rendered with impeccable musicianship. If not for Frisell’s clear country and folk influences, and his notable propensity for twiddling the knobs of his various stomp-box effects, it would be easy to label him a “jazz guitarist.” And most do. But that charts too narrow a course for his wide-ranging, intuitive and, ultimately, joyous musical explorations. Yes, there are plenty of modal chords in the mix, and the complex melodies he and Kang play in unison are straight out of the jazz playbook. But Frisell’s sonic sparring with delay and other effects puts him in another place than most jazzers dwell. It’s not quite The Edge or Robin Trower (re: the effects) meets Chet Atkins and Les Paul, but it is something akin to that – though clearly with more emphasis on the latter two six-string icons.
With steady concentration, Frisell and co. build a mounting swirl of sound that expands and then ambles onward as it evolves. The guitarist barely breaks a sweat – you won’t see any rock star posing or facial contorting (other than the occasional gleeful smile aimed at a bandmate after a particularly inspired passage). Yet, when the moment is right, he can seriously rip it up. Even then, though, he does it with precision and control, looking at his instrument with a studied thoughtfulness.
That’s not to suggest any lack of passion or feeling in his playing. In fact, it’s exactly the opposite! His fingers effortlessly feel out the most emotive melodies and chord patterns, often infused with a joy that borders on giddiness. This is most evident in the trio’s jaunty take on the Carter Family classic, “Keep on the Sunny Side,” which seems to be emerging as one of the several standards that Frisell is often associated with (along with his unique renditions of “Heard It Through the Grapevine,” “Shenandoah” and a few others). So while his particular brand of flare on the instrument may be understated, it’s no less impactful.
Of those nods to past country and r&b classics, only “Sunny Side,” was featured in Saturday’s two-set, 100-minute performance. But it was a standout along with “Tea for Two,” “Hard Times” and a stunning encore of “Goin’ Out of My Head.”
Lousy iPhone picture of Bill Frisell's Beautiful Dreamers at the Narrows Center, 6/18/11
This was the third time I’ve seen Frisell in the trio format, and the second time with this particular trio. Quite the active musician, he also performs with a quartet and a larger ensembles featuring horns. In addition, he makes guest appearances on many artists’ albums, most recently Buddy Miller’s outstanding Majestic Silver Strings collaborative, as well as with Lucinda Williams and others. The first time I saw him, six years ago, was with a different trio in tow. I’m guessing that – to my ears, anyway – the trio is his best musical setting; at least it’s where his guitar virtuosity shines most brightly. And that’s why I’m there.
I love the interplay between Frisell and Kang (interesting and creative violin playing always gets me, too). Kang has a nuanced feel for a variety of styles, and he’s more than just an adept counterpart for Frisell, mirroring the guitarist’s jazzy licks. On many songs, it’s Kang who leads the way, with Frisell providing the supportive reflections and foundation. Last night reminded me why I was so impressed by Kang last year. But this time I was even more struck by his stunning pizzicato string work. I don’t recall ever seeing a violinist finger pick the strings as much or as adeptly as Kang.
The dynamic that Royston’s super-subtle percussive touch brings to the group is unparalleled. This time around, I had a different vantage point on the triangulated trio, and thus a much better view of the drummer’s surgical stick work (his light dexterity on the cymbals was extraordinary). Royston’s playing is, most of the time, fittingly low key, but every once in a while he executes a controlled explosion, as if to say, “Yeah, I can do that, too!”
In the end, however, as much as Frisell would probably like to make it otherwise, it really is primarily about the guitarist. Playing a red Fender Stratocaster, rather than his familiar Telecaster, he let his musical comrades shine, but left no doubt as to why he was the focal point of the affair. I can’t wait for the next time around.
I recently picked up the new remastered release of R.E.M.’s 1985 LP Fables of the Reconstruction. Fables was the first R.E.M. record that I bought as a fan when it first came out, having fallen under the Southern-gothic-meets-Byrdsian-folk-rock spell of the collegiate circuit darlings in the wake of their stellar 1984 album, Reckoning.
In fact, now that I think about it, like many people my age, R.E.M. was a significant part of the soundtrack of my college years. I listened to Fables quite a lot back in the day, but it has been a very long time since I last spun the disc (vinyl platter long since replaced by CD). My memories of it are of a transitional, inconsistent album that, nevertheless, had its share of worthwhile moments. Upon now listening to the new remastered release, I’m pleasantly surprised at how well the album has aged (the same certainly can’t be said for all of R.E.M.’s catalog).
Fables was the first R.E.M. album to show that they could be more than a jangly Rickenbacker -totting pop band with alluringly mumbled vocals. While Fables may only have shown sporadic hints that the group had more edge and a wider palette of sounds and song structures than previous efforts suggested, it did establish a foothold for new directions that would be further explored and developed on the next few albums as the band matured and gained renown.
Not long after its release, Fables began being maligned – not least of all by the band itself (despite guitarist Peter Buck’s revisionist claims to the contrary on the CDs new liner notes; sorry, Peter, I have interviews from the mid ’80s depicting the disgruntlement). The album was disparaged as an under-rehearsed, under-produced and unfocused record. Perhaps in the shadow of the much more polished sound and songs of the next few R.E.M. releases, that criticism may have held up more at the time than it seems to now.
While the band’s 1987 release, Document, remains one of my all-time R.E.M. favorites, representing several steps of departure from the sound of the band’s early years, hearing these records now I think Fables more than holds its own against the band’s immediate follow up, 1986’s more commercially successful Life’s Rich Pageant.
Even at the time, it was clear that Fables represented some kind of evolutionary step for the band. Now, in hindsight, its place as a transitional touchpoint in the band’s history is even more pronounced. Fables has one foot planted in R.E.M.’s early foundation (represented by the Chronic Town EP, Murmur and Reckoning) and the harder-edged sound that would play out on the band’s next few releases.
The songs on Fables plainly fall into one of two categories, with “Feeling Gravity’s Pull,” “Old Man Kensey,” “Can’t Get There From Here” and “Auctioneer (Another Engine)” representing new, darker, more aggressive and instrumentally diverse forays, while “Maps and Legends,” “Driver 8,” “Life and How to Live It,” “Green Grow the Rushes” (based on a traditional English folk tune), “Kohoutek,” “Good Advices” and “Wendell Gee” (with the addition of banjo) harken back to whence the band came.
Beyond serving as a reminder of this, the Fables reissue also tweaks the sound of the original album in a few interesting ways. The remastered sound is evident right from the start in the much more prominent cello on the hauntingly dark and dissonant opening track, “Feeling Gravity’s Pull.” At first, the improved clarity on the backing instruments is a bit off-putting in its recasting of the song (compared to that which was emblazoned on our memories so long ago). But, while the supportive instruments like the cello, piano, harmonica and harmony vocals are now more distinct, the guitar, bass and drums remain undiminished. The backstage lights are a bit brighter, but the spotlight still shines on Stipe’s vocals and Buck’s alternately chiming and distorted arpeggios.
On the other hand, the trumpet on the album’s hit single, “Can’t Get There from Here” – which was plenty prominent on the original release, and one of the more notable steps of departure for the band – does not seem to have been jacked up in this new edition. It sounds about the same as it did on the original.
In a less definable way, “Life and How to Live It” seems to shine brighter in this revisit. That may be the result of remastering or simply proper aging and new context. Similarly, this release reminds me what a great pop song “Driver 8” is – marrying that old-timey Southern folk imagery (not to mention Stipe’s ongoing railroad infatuation) with the band’s characteristic upbeat jangle.
Overall, the Fables remaster also proves a powerful testament to Mike Mills’ importance to the band. His instrumental prowess on bass, piano and whatever else he might have picked up speaks for itself, even if others sometimes got the credit. But without his subtle, yet essential, harmony vocals, R.E.M. would not be the same band. Drummer Bill Berry also adds a spark that doesn’t seem to have been matched, even by more technically adept drummers in the wake of his retirement a decade or so ago.
Meanwhile, Stipe’s vocals, while not entirely discernable, have more clarity than on the band’s previous releases. There’s also a pleasant restraint to his singing on Fables compared to his more frequent over-the-top performances of later years. “Good Advices,” “Green Grow Rushes” and the elegiac album closer “Wendell Gee” are among some of Stipe’s strongest studio performances of the era.
Given the smorgasboard of new and old sounds comprising the record, the sequencing on Fables works really well, seamlessly taking the listener into new terrain while never straying too far from familiar paths. The way in which the folky harmonies of “Life and How to Live It,” one of the songs most reminiscent of the band’s previous releases, lead into the engagingly sinister, yet melodic, opening guitar and bass riffs of “Old Man Kensey” is a powerful juxtaposition that amplifies the menacing tones of the latter. (Even now, listening to “Kensey” I’m reminded of how, back in the day, a good friend always referred to this song as “Old Man Lindsay” in my presence. It was, and remains, one of my favorite songs on the album.)
THE BONUS DISC OF DEMOS
In addition to the updated master, the new edition of Fables also includes a disc of demo versions of the songs on the original release, as well as three additional tunes from the period (at least two of which should be familiar to R.E.M. fans). These “Athens Demos” are basically live-in-the-studio rehearsals from January 1985, recorded between the end of the 1984 tour and the band’s departure for the Fables sessions in London,
While interesting, there’s not much extraordinary in the demos. Standouts include a rawer, stripped down, but still quite polished, version of “Can’t Get There from Here,” featuring an extended coda and Stipe’s “Thank You, Ray” (a la Elvis) studio banter; and “Maps of Legends” in which Stipe’s overdubbed background singing sometimes competes with his lead vocal – creating a slightly distracting discord in the song and undermining what is, otherwise, one of stronger tunes of the period.
The non-album songs are “Hyena,” which was featured in live shows at the time and later appeared on the follow-up album to Fables; “Bandwagon,” a strong but traditional R.E.M. sounding outtake; and “Throw Those Trolls Away” – the only song in the set that I hadn’t heard before – featuring the classic refrain: “Don’t be a loser.” Ironically, the latter is a throw away outtake that seems to be an embryonic version of “I Believe,” later to appear in more developed (and significantly improved form) on Life’s Rich Pageant.
Priced at $22 or more, I would only recommend this new deluxe edition of Fables to hard-core fans. However, it does serve as a good impetus to dust off your old copy of the record (be it vinyl or CD), or pick up a new CD if you don’t have it, and rediscover the pleasures of some of the better music of the mid ’80s era.
THE RECONSTRUCTION TOUR
A bootleg, quasi pro-shot, video of R.E.M. performing “Can’t Get There From Here” at Merideth College in Raleigh,N.C., 5/27/85 … about six months before I saw them at The Mosque Theatre in Richmond, Va. I can’t get over how Buck, who had switched from primarily playing hollow-body Rickenbackers to playing mostly Fender Telecasters, moves like a cross between a young Keith Richards and Pete Townshend. Gotta love Stipe’s boxcar hobo look, too.
“Tin soldiers and Nixon’s coming, we’re finally on our own. / This summer, I hear the drumming, four dead in Ohio.”
... It was 40 years ago today.
Penned with celerity by Neil Young and captured in cathartic splendor by his bandmates only a few weeks after the infamous shootings at Kent State, “Ohio” is without a doubt one of the great protest songs of all time. Today’s remembrance of the events in Ohio on May 4, 1970, and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s impassioned musical response, got me thinking about other outstanding songs of protest in the rock canon. Of course, there have been dozens of notable protest songs over the years, dating all the way back to the early 20th century. Heck, Woody Guthrie alone could fill a whole songbook with tunes of objection and dissent. (Speaking of songbooks, as I write this, an old folk guitar book, titled Songs of Work and Protest, sits in a bookcase an arm’s length away … Funny how those two go together, isn’t it?) More recently, Billy Bragg has occupied a similar place on the podium of folky protest productivity.
One of the tricky things when considering the genre of protest songs, particularly modern-day ones, is drawing the line between social commentary and actual objection. To me, true protest music must, at the very least, condemn social injustice, abuse of authority, misguided militancy, greed or corruption. Where songs fall in that spectrum of possibilities is purely personal judgment. And I have no doubt that a sound argument could be waged asserting that many of the selections below are more commentary than protest. Nevertheless, this is where I draw that line.
Protest Playlist
I’m not claiming that these are the 10 “best” protest songs – personal or otherwise – because I honestly haven’t given it all that much thought. But these are some good and noteworthy ones that readily come to mind.
Many of these songs deal with war. Nothing gets people’s ire up like the prospect of getting killed – or having to kill someone else. Not surprisingly, many of these tunes hail from that most fertile period of protest (the 1960s), but the early 1980s (the Reagan years) also seem to have elicited a fair amount of outrage, too – at least for musicians and listeners of my vintage. I’ve found many of the anti-Bush/Cheney protest songs of more recent years to be forced or formulaic, thus not quite cutting it for artistic reasons, even if the dissent had some appeal. • Ohio – C.S.N.&Y. (1970) – As the impetus for this piece, this tune is number one in my book, not only for its sense of wounded indignation and outrage, but also for its searing guitar riff and soaring vocal harmonies (particularly on the later live versions on which David Crosby’s pain-filled howls of “How many more …” reach the heavens). An extra punch of protest was delivered on the B-side of the original single release of this song with the haunting a capella of “Find the Cost of Freedom” … It’s buried in the ground. Say no more.
• For What It’s Worth – Buffalo Springfield(1966) – Young’s early dueling partner, Stephen Stills, penned his own successful rapid response record following the Sunset Strip riots that hit L.A. in 1966. The ringing harmonics of the guitar and the strong vocal chorus of this song are nothing short of iconic. “Stop, hey, children, what’s that sound? Everybody look what’s going down.” • Hurricane – Bob Dylan (1975) – Dylan had already logged his share of protest songs, but this epic ballad from the Desire/Rolling Thunder Revue-era is one of his best. Bob teamed with playwright Jacques Levy to compose a potent protest of the legal injustice and racism that saw boxer Rubin “Hurricane” Carter unfairly tried, convicted and imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit: “Rubin Carter was falsely tried … / To see him obviously framed / Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land / Where justice is a game. … / Now all the criminals in their suits and their ties / Are free to drink martinis and watch the sunrise / While Rubin sits like Buddha in a 10-foot cell / An innocent man in a living hell.”
• Masters of War – Bob Dylan (1962) – This song (along with “God On Our Side” and more general expressions of the Civil Rights era, like “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times They Are A-Changin’”) are what got Bobby pigeonholed as a protest singer to begin with. This was something he protested against, of course, eventually drifting away from social causes into another motor-psycho nightmare/daydream all together.
• War – Bob Marley(1976)– Despite its subsequent association with Sinead O’Connor’s infamous Pope-ripping appearance on SNL, this stark, talking blues with a reggae groove is a simple and direct condemnation of social and political injustice, with explication of the assuredly continuing state of affairs until those injustices are recognized and reconciled. This is protest music above all else!
• War – Bruce Springsteen (1985) – This live cover of the late 1960s’ soul-tinged tune by Edwin Starr was popularized for a later generation by The Boss. Springsteen’s reflective introductory comments and impassioned delivery make this a mighty protest that is all his own. He explodes into this song, like only Bruce can.
• My City Was Gone– The Pretenders (1983) – Sticking with the Ohio theme, Chrissie and Co. lament the rape of the urban landscape and vitality of downtown Akron, misguidedly replaced instead by shopping malls and parking lots.
• Country at War – X (1983) – John Doe and Exene Cervenka’s L.A. quartet compares actual warfare to the social combat waged upon the down-and-out in Reagan-era America. A forgotten gem.
• Sunday Bloody Sunday – U2 (1983) – From The Edge’s descending guitar riff to Bono’s hummed intro and Irish fiddlemaster Steve Wickham’s wicked embellishments throughout the song, this tune transcends Ireland’s 1921 Sinn Fein/Black-and-Tans conflict and the tragically repetitive events that occurred in Derry in 1972, applying the indignation and disgust over those notorious incidents to all senseless acts of violence. “I’m so sick of it,” indeed.
• Give Peace a Chance – John & Yoko (1969) – It’s atypical in its lack of vitriol relative to most of the other protest songs on this list, but this early Lennon-Ono gem is as defiant as any of the songs here. It’s utterly connected to the era, yet timeless, too. Proof, once again, that the most poignant protest is often the simplest (think man sitting in front of tank).
• Fortunate Son – Creedence Clearwater Revival(1969) – One of the quintessential songs of the ’60s counterculture’s disaffected youth, this CCR classic condemns a generation, a whole way of life, class inequity and militarism. Potent stuff.
• Common Man – The Blasters (1984) – At the time, this was a specific indictment of President Reagan and his faux populist posturing, but it remains equally applicable to any insincere smile flashed in front of a flag. Dave Alvin’s blistering, bluesy, rockabilly guitar provides perfect punctuation to brother Phil’s condemnation.
• I’m So Bored with the U.S.A. – The Clash (1977) – Given the pervasive influence of American culture around the world, it makes for a worthy target of protest by those powerlessly subjected to its omnipresence ... especially London punks in 1977.
• Wasted Life – Stiff Little Fingers (1979) – This is another anti-soldiery ode (re: either literal or metaphorical war) with a more personal perspective; barked out in a Belfast accent with driving guitar and speedy snare drums.
• Warrior – Steve Earle (2004) – Earle has many songs that could merit a place on this list (perhaps most notably “F the CC” from the same album), but this is an interesting twist on the lefty troubadour’s usual schtick. This urgent spoken-word recitation over a rock tune remonstrates the noble warrior’s fall from grace and esteem ion our culture (think Native American warrior vs. modern-day Army grunt).
• Mercury Poisoning – Graham Parker(1978) – This is a great protest/kiss-off pop song, even if it’s only protesting record company ineptitude. Self-described by GP as sounding like “cavemen on crack,” he is ably assisted by his protégés in snide: The Rumour. “I got a dinosaur for a representative. It’s got a small brain and refuses to learn.”
• Sun Green – Neil Young (2003) – Sure it’s embedded in the context of Neil’s much-underrated audio play/concept album (Greendale), but character details and story aside, this is an artistic and powerful condemnation of corporate greed and governmental corruption – even if the pro-environment message goes a little over the top at points. “Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.”
• Roosevelt Room – Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band (2009) – The Bright Eyes boy seldom rocks like this, sounding here like Jon Langford (The Mekons et al) meeting Cracker – a kick-ass combo, in my book! Anti-authoritarian with a vengeance. (Bonus points for name-checking HST.)
• I Shot the Sheriff – Bob Marley (1973) – The height of personal protest: “They say they want to bring me in guilty for the killing of a deputy. But I say, ‘I shot the sheriff, but I didn’t shoot no deputy.’”
• Brainwashed – George Harrison (2002) – On one of his last recordings, the quiet Beatle remained true-to-form and crafted a poppy, spiritual protest against the consumer and institutional brainwashing inherent in so much of modern life.
I’m sure there should be some Pearl Jam on here somewhere. What would you add, from them or others?
I saw a wonderful new play last night that was thematically right up my alley – combining music, philosophy and strong characters. Performed by the New Repertory Theatre at the Arsenal Center for the Arts in Watertown, Michael Hollinger’s Opus is an intense character study involving the internal psychodynamics of a veteran string quartet, rife with knowing references to chamber music and a bit of philosophy about art and life.
If you’re in the Boston area and intrigued by this sort of thing, I highly recommend it. The play runs through Sunday, April 18, and there’s literally not a bad seat in the house at the small, but impressive, theater. The Boston Globe’sreviewfrom April 1, which spurred us to go, was on the mark.
Ruminations on music, media and misc. other matters by an editor and writer, music lover, reader, history buff, guitar player and marginally (OK, completely) obsessive archivist.
Posts
