I just stumbled across this wonderful, nostalgia-inducing video clip of The Raindogs at the beloved old Bunratty’s club in Allston, Mass. (OK, it was pretty much a dive, but a fondly remembered one, nonetheless, in that I saw plenty of great music there back in the day). The date was May 19, 1989, and I was there, enjoying this performance by one of my favorite local Boston bands, with my future wife and one of my best friends.
I saw The Raindogs play around town dozens and dozens of times between 1988 and when they broke up in 1993 or so, and this show was one of my favorites. I know because I recorded a bunch of them, and I’ve listened to this live tape more than any of the others over the years. (In fact, I recognized this clip right away from the familiar to me, but otherwise unique, introduction that singer/songwriter/guitarist Mark Cutler bestowed upon the song that night.) I gave Cutler a copy of my audio recording a few years ago, but I never suspected any video of this night existed.
I remember this Bunratty’s gig as being a raucously energetic show. The crowd was really into it, especially at the end, and the band delivered a polished, yet inspired, performance.
This song, “A Secret Life,” came about midway through the 17 song set. It was one of the evening’s slower, more low-key moments. But it nicely exemplifies Cutler’s poignant songcraft and provides a fleeting remembrance of late Scottish fiddle master Johnny Cunningham’s seemingly effortless and always spot-on playing, not to mention guitarist Emerson Torrey’s essential and all-too-easily-taken-f0r-granted backing vocals.
A couple of songs after this one, the band cranked things up and let loose with abandon during the set’s finale. A momentous, increasingly unleashed trio of tunes started with “Dirty Town” and segued into “Carry Your Cross” and, finally, “Time Stand Still,” during which Cutler screamed his throat raw while the rest of the band fueled the frenzy behind him.
So this video hit me as a pleasant blast from the past that, despite being a bit dated around the edges, still resounds nicely today … as good songs, well-performed always do.
And now, I can’t help but wonder: Is there video for the rest of this performance?
Last weekend, The Sunday Globe Magazine published a round-up of what they deemed “Boston’s 25 Greatest Pop Music Artist Ever.”
Like most of these lists, this one (compiled by three veteran Globe music writers) hits most of the obvious marks (Aerosmith, J. Geils Band, Boston, The Cars, Pixies et al), as well as a few more under-the-radar essentials (Jonathan Richman, Mission of Burma). Mainly, the list suffers from having to corral such a wide ranging cast of characters. Yes, Donna Summer and New Kids on the Block deserve to be on a list attempting to encompass all genres of popular music over the last half a century, but in whose world do those artist occupy the same space as Joan Baez?
I appreciate a wide range of musical styles, but this just seems a bit off. Such is the dilemma (and demise?) for major metropolitan daily newspapers these days: How do you succeed trying to be all things to all people?
Perhaps separate lists by genre would’ve made more sense, and allowed for inclusion of a few of the unfortunate omissions (the article even had a sidebar listing acts the compilers really regretted not being able to include in the top 25). Maybe the original assignment was for the Top 40 artists of all time and some evil editor (or lack of adequate advertising sales) dictated a last minute paring down of the list to a mere 25 spread over four or more genres of popular music.
Scope aside, I have no major beef with the list as published (see below). That said, I am disappointed (though not terribly surprised) that several of the acts that stand out to me as among the greats of the once proud and mighty Boston music scene were ignored.
In place of the disco artists and boy bands on the Globe’s list, I would have included 1980’s and 1990’s stalwarts like Push Push and Dennis Brennan, The Raindogs, O Positive, The Del Fuegos, The Neighborhoods, The Cave Dogs, and Scruffy the Cat, or even Shy Five – all of whom played an important part in making Boston a musical town to be reckoned with. And while most of these bands did this through numerous energy-filled, sweat-drenched appearances at clubs like The Rat, The Tam, The Paradise, The Channel, T.T. The Bear’s, Jack’s, Club III, etc., several also put out some outstanding records (a few of which actually sold beyond the borders of the Bay State).
Furthermore, since folk fits with rock more than disco and boy bands (at least in my world) and The Globe did acknowledge folkies James Taylor and Joan Baez, how could Bill Morrissey and Tracy Chapman be overlooked? And while Boston has long been a renowned blues-loving town, is there not a single homegrown blues musician worthy of inclusion? Ronnie Earl? Bonnie Raitt? Jerry Portnoy? James Montgomery? (C’mon! They merit a sidebar, at least!)
I do give the Globies extra kudos for the inclusion of Morphine, a band all-too-easily overlooked, but who were so far ahead of their time (or was it simply beyond time?) and everyone else in producing the ultimate in smokey, jazzy, bluesy, minimalist cool. (R.I.P., Mark Sandman!)
The Globe’s 25 Best
In an attempt to protect their content assets, The Globe no longer allows free online access to the full text of many of their articles. Too bad, in this case, because the write-ups that accompanied the list were entertaining, as well as insightfully and knowledgeably written. You can read a brief summary of the feature here, or shell out a few bucks to see the full unattractive web presentation of the article. Better yet, if you’re in New England, at least, see if your local library has a back issue of The Globe Magazine from 8/8/10.
The Boston Pop Hit Hit Parade
1. Aerosmith
2. Pixies
3. James Taylor
4. Donna Summer
5. The Cars
6. J. Geils Band / Peter Wolf
7. Joan Baez
8. New Edition
9. New Kids on the Block
10. Aimee Mann / ’Til Tuesday
11. Boston
12. Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers
13. Mission of Burma
14. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones
15. The Lemonheads (one of the most over-rated bands in pop history, in my book)
16. Dropkick Murphys
17. The Remains
18. Galaxie 500
19. Morphine
20. Amanda Palmer / Dresden Dolls
21. Guster
22. Tavares
23. Dick Dale (who knew, the king of surf guitar caught his first waves in Quincy?)
24. Tom Rush
25. The G-Clefs (Who?!)
Among the “we would have liked to have mentioned” artists listed by the authors in a sidebar were: Letters to Cleo and Buffalo Tom. Both worthy occupiers of the fringe of classic Beantown popdom, but neither quite to my taste.
FURTHER
• For a more detailed perspective on the glory years of the Boston music scene, check out Brett Milano’s excellent 2007 book, The Sound of Our Town. I’ve seen many a local club show over the years in the shadow of Brett’s benignly hulking figure.
A couple of months ago a friend gave me a CD that he’d been involved in. He asked for my feedback, with the unspoken hope that I would write something good about it on this blog. Because I respect his musical skill and sensibilities, I agreed to listen to it and give him my opinion, though I doubted I’d publish anything about it since his description as he handed me the CD (“kind of in the vein of Dave Matthews or Jack Johnson”) suggested that it wasn’t particularly my cup of tea music wise. Nevertheless, he assured me that it was quite good, especially given the tender age of the players, some of whom have a ways to go before they’re out of their teens.
The CD in question was Generation of Need, by Jack Babineau, a young Rhode Island singer/songwriter. When I got down to listening to it, the Dave Matthews influence was evident right away, less so with the Jack Johnson sound. I did also hear some shades of Ben Harper (sans the gritty pedal steel) and John Mayer in the tracks. However, I was most struck by the maturity of the songwriting and the well-defined, sophisticated sound of the recording.
Instruments are subtly interwoven, yet crisp and well-defined. Most songs are built around a foundation of layered guitars, starting with Babineau’s driving acoustic and the frequent interjection of electric guitars of various hues. Solid bass and surprisingly adept drumming (compelling, but not over-busy) flesh out the sound. Understated, but essential, keyboards add nuance and distinction to most of the tracks.
It certainly doesn’t hurt that the young star and his band mates’ raw talent is featured in the refined setting of Emerson Torrey’s accomplished production and juiced by the guest appearances of other renowned local music industry vets such as James Montgomery (adding resonant blues harp), Mark Cutler (on country-blues style slide guitar) and Richard Reed (whose keyboard skills seem to grace all of the album’s best tracks), as well as Torrey’s guitar and piano contributions. (Torrey’s teenage son, Jake, is one of the three guitarists in the band.)
Babineau’s lead vocals are band-leader worthy and effective in delivering his catchy and thoughtful lyrics. The song arrangements are tight and the playing is sharp throughout. But the secret weapons that really give this release a major label sound are the well-executed harmony vocals and the production – studio effects are adroitly employed, never over done.
While the whole 30-minute CD is easy to enjoy, the standout tracks are the title track, a muscular song in which potent electric guitars are juxtaposed against an acoustic foundation; the funky “Love Now,” in which the soulful backing vocals and driving beat recall The Rolling Stones in their glory years; and “Keep It On,” which elicited some nostalgia for me, harkening back to the short-lived early 1990’s collection of local studio pros and an acoustic duo from Maine known as The Walkers (beneficiaries of Atlantic Records’ brief infatuation with New England bands at the time, which saw The Raindogs, Young Neal and The Vipers and The Walkers all signed to the label).
So what I originally considered kind of an obligatory favor to a friend turned out to be an unexpected gift. I will continue to give Generation of Need the occasional spin in the CD player and keep an eye on what these young fellows do in the future with their budding talent and benevolent mentorship.
Jack Track-by-Track
No Excuses – The most Jack Johnson-esque song on the CD; not one of my favorites, but it has grown on me with repeated listens. With a decent chorus, a mildly shuffling beat and bouncy acoustic guitar, it provides a fitting lead in to the rest of the affair.
From the Outside – One of the more Dave Matthews-esque songs on the CD, and a good one at that. A funky, buoyant beat is fleshed out with meaty organ fills and soaring lead guitar lines – all complementing the assured verse vocals, a strong chorus and outstanding harmony. This was one of my 15-year-old daughter’s favorites – she, like her dad, being of impeccable musical taste. :-)
Blossom Street – The tempo slows a bit for this more predominantly acoustic tune. Tasteful acoustic guitar glides over subtle electric guitar and piano. The sound builds in instrumentation as it progresses, but it maintains its simple clarity. A heartfelt love song and another superb production.
Generation of Need – Undoubtedly the best song on the CD, the title track is still acoustic driven, but things get considerably more funky and heavy. The electric guitars rock up the chorus, while the Dave Matthewsy vocal phrasing works particularly well on this ode to the age of anxiety, miscues and greed. Multi-layered electric guitars cut loose amid a swirling frenzy of effects to create a satisfying climax. Fun time for all, no doubt!
For Today – This piano-driven ballad is the other Jack Johnson moment on the CD. Nicely restrained vocals are well-suited for the romantic lyrics. Eventually, it evolves into Power Ballad Land, with a big chorus and arena rock guitar. Overall, my least favorite song on the CD, but one that shows the musicians’ ability to tackle different styles.
Keep It On – This bluesy, Walkers-esque, acoustic tune, sparked by James Montgomery’s harp and Babineau’s staccato R ’n’ B flavored vocals, is another stand out track. Quite good, indeed.
Love Now – The funkiest tune on the CD is my second favorite. The acoustic guitar takes a back seat to the funky bass, slick wah-wah guitar and soulful vocals, including potent female harmonies. “We need the love now,” indeed.
Conformity – The CD closes on a strong note with another upbeat acoustic guitar-driven song (with understated R ’n’ B guitar and piano). Tasteful slide guitar added by Mark Cutler, along with more soulful female vocals and a relatively unadorned blues-rock electric guitar solo near the end make this track another vivid homage to the vintage Stones sound.
I have to start with a disclaimer: I’m a huge fan of Mark Cutler’s music. His well-crafted, thoughtful songwriting, his biting-yet-melodic guitar playing, even his Petty-meets-Dylan-meets-Tom-Verlaine vocal style, has struck a chord with me since the day I first saw his then-new band, The Raindogs, at T.T. the Bear’s Place in Cambridge back in the spring of 1988.
The problem with being an evangelist for a particular musician plays out in one of two ways: Either you’re so smitten with everything the artist does that you can’t see the ebb and flow that is inevitably a part of any creative career, or you have such high expectations that you’re all-too-easily disappointed. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve leaned more toward the latter.
When it comes to the Rhode Island singer-songwriter’s new CD, Red, however, I’m happy to report that I’m far from disappointed. In fact, it’s a great record. Maybe not quite the best thing Cutler’s ever done in his 25-plus year career, but pretty darn close. Not only is it right up there with his finest solo work and the pinnacle of The Raindogs’ and The Schemers’ catalogs, it more than holds its own alongside the best rootsy, Americana music out there today.
As this is the first new full-length CD of Cutler compositions since the second Dino Club release, Bright Screen Wide, in 2004, and Mark’s first solo offering since 2000’s Mark Cutler and Lexington 1-2-5 album, it’s a momentous occasion for fans of his heartfelt, hope-and-melancholy-filled music.
In the few weeks that I’ve been listening to Red, it has continued to grow on me. Despite my familiarity with half of the CD’s dozen songs – from earlier, home-recorded versions previously posted on Mark’s MySpace page – when I first heard the new record as a whole, I was struck by the mellowness of the affair. Upon subsequent listening, however, what I first perceived as restraint, revealed itself to be richly nuanced, cinematically evocative songwriting. Cutler’s airy acoustic guitar and contemplative lyrics are adorned by conspicuous mandolin, accordion and piano embellishments. That’s not to say there aren’t some penetrating electric guitar moments on Red. There are, but they intercede intermittently, rather than dominate the affair. (Think more Gas Boy, than Raindogs or Schemers.)
Overall, there’s a sense of maturity and understated confidence to the proceedings. Pristine production, subtle instrumentation (great, clean-tones and masterfully layered sounds) and tight arrangements buoy emotive vocals, which are at times soulful, bluesy or rootsy.
Cutler employs a familiar troupe of musicians, prominently featuring long-time guitar compadre Emerson Torrey (this time co-producing, engineering and adding piano and backing vocals), fellow Schemers accordionist/keyboardist Richard Reed and bassist Jim Berger, as well as Mike Tanaka from The Dino Club on bass, along with a large cast of other contributors. The musicianship is top notch all around, with David Richardson’s mandolin, in particular, playing a pivotal part on several songs.
But, most of all, Red emphasizes Cutler’s skill as a singer-songwriter. Somebody once said about the writer Raymond Carver that nobody captures the darkness and hopefulness of everyday America better. I think the same can be said of Cutler’s songs. The predominantly slow and mid-tempo tunes on Red are often pensive, but there are dashes of faith and optimism throughout, frequently accented by Cutler’s characteristic exhortations to keep on trying.
Red is available on CD from 75orLess Records, and through iTunes and Rhapsody starting May 7. Cutler will be playing an official record release party at Nick-a-Nees in Providence on May 8. I know I’ll be there.
Hope in the Tracks
Mark Cutler’s new CD might be Red, but its palette covers much of the musical spectrum. Here’s a brief song-by-song rundown:
• Vampires – Based on the song title alone, you might think: “nice band-wagon jumping.” But while this reflective exhortation to resiliency and perseverance does employ an oh-so-au-courant vampire metaphor, its musical and lyrical depth belie that notion. Musically, it sets a compelling stage for what’s to come with baritone guitar melodies, chiming mandolin, rich vocal choruses and a folk-rock-pop sheen that hint at both Tom Petty and Lucinda Williams in tempo and mood, but remain wholly Mark Cutler in theme and sound. A great album opener and potential single.
• Cousin Mary’s New Car – With a bit more bounce in vocal meter than the haunting melodies of the opening track, this imagistic character study depicts a carney-like cast of fringe-dwelling homeys. Musically mellow, this song is also driven by mandolin, accordion and Springsteen-like vocals and lyrics. It’s a bit reminiscent in lyrical motif to “Under the Rainbow” from The Raindogs’ Lost Souls.
• We Shall Always Remain Friends – The tempo perks up a tad for this touching tribute to the strength of friendship – either with a former lover or as brotherly devotion. Acoustic guitar joins the mandolin and shakers in musical dominance on this one. In no way derivative, but perhaps a little suggestive of the kind of thing The Wallflowers or Steve Earle might do.
• Just a Paycheck Away – After the mellow impression of the first three tunes, the electric guitar melody leaps out of the speakers right from the get-go on this one. It’s a timely and fitting “Worried Man Blues” for the Great Recession. Bluesy vocals are paired with the more aggressive guitar, making it perhaps the most Raindogs reminiscent track on the CD. It’s a quintessential Cutler song and one of the best on this collection.
• Hovering – This catchy tune changes the pace yet again, introducing a lazy country-and-western feel, with more prominent baritone guitar melodies, mandolin and an electric guitar that magically suggests pedal steel at points. Lyrically, the question remains: Is the hovering protective or obsessive?
• Doc Pomus Ghost – This titular nod to the early white blues singer and Songwriters Hall of Fame member (co-author of hits for Elvis, Ray Charles and others) is the most bluesy tune on the album. A tale of longing (to the point of delusion), it features some menacing electric slide guitar that gives it a kick-ass oomph not found elsewhere on the record. Knowing that Mark, like one of his heroes, Bob Dylan, is a discerning student of music, I have to wonder whether this song – with its “hidden charms” refrain and fierce slide guitar solo – isn’t also a tip of the hat to Howlin’ Wolf and Willie Dixon.
• You Know What to Do – In another effective juxtaposition to the preceding track, the somber tones of this song are forged by acoustic guitar, a haunting cello, mandolin and a ringing vocal chorus about a corrupted soul. One of Red’s most engaging mellow tunes.
• Jumpin’ Time – The beat hops back up again for this Cajun-meets-jump-blues tale of things not always being as they seem. Another one of the many real highlights on Red, the Dylanesque R-n-B feel is electric and percussive, but the spikey mandolin melody contrasts nicely with the funky context.
• You Can’t Give It Away – This may be the album’s tune that is most reminiscent of the softer side of The Dino Club (think “Isn’t It Fine”) and Cutler’s previous solo albums, though the beautiful cello lines (while not Johnny Cunningham’s fiddle) do evoke the mellower side of The Raindogs, too. Piano flourishes weave in and out of the layered acoustic string sounds supporting the sympathetic vocal. Like “You Know What to Do,” this is melancholy done right – in the vein of one of Cutler’s all-time classics, “Up in the Air” from Gas Boy.
• Ain’t Been Born – This slow blues tune rides gospel organ embellishments, understated slide guitar and strong soulful vocals that I can almost imagine Candi Stanton or maybe even Aretha singing. Another of the somewhat Dylanesque moments on the CD, this fully-realized song offers a different lyrical spin by taking the wind out of false hope. Kind of a slow burner, it has gradually grown to be one my favorite songs on Red.
• I Hear Your Car – This is a good enough tune, but the least-remarkable one on the CD. Somewhat “generic Cutler” to my ears, it’s the kind of thing you sense that Mark could write in his sleep. (Other artists should be so lucky!)
• Miss Connected – One of the CD’s most poppy, mid-tempo tunes ends the affair on a high note. There’s some nice electric lead guitar playing, a very strong vocal chorus and a lyrical narrative that paints an engaging picture of a past love affair that went awry. “A pop song crossed with the extreme / A love song denied, but almost redeemed” … “Clocks just don’t turn back, nor can we” ... indeed.
I have to admit to wishing that Mark had included “Kill the Devil,” one of the real standout songs among the home recordings he has streamed in recent years on MySpace. It’s a great tune – one of my favorite Cutler compositions of the past decade – but I can see why he might have decided that it didn’t quite fit the vibe of the rest of the CD. Maybe next time. Until then, I’ll be happily enjoying what is Red, right along with the best of Cutler’s past output.
This older YouTube video for the home-recorded version of “Jumpin’ Time,” updated on Cutler’s new CD Red, shows how, in a fairly low-tech way, you can create a compelling complement to a good song. Some great found images put to effective use here.
As we approach Christmas, I’m wrapping up the third compilation in my “Father Knows Best” series of CD box sets for my now 14-year-old daughter. This time around, I’m presenting her with my take on The 10 Most Underrated Rock Albums of All Time (previous installments in the series were The 10 Best Debut Albums of All Time and The 10 Best Live Albums of All Time). She has good taste in music – a connoisseur in the making, I’d like to think – and while she may not take every title I’ve bestowed upon her to heart, she seems to appreciate most of them and several have made it onto her playlists.
As with all of these sets, the Most Underrated one is very subjective and it required some tough choices to pare it down to only 10. In fact, the criteria for this one is a little more complicated than the previous two. For the most part, I picked works by well-known artists, so the designated titles qualify as significantly underrated within the catalog of that artist. However, there are several entries that I judged worthy of a place on the list for their shear unsung greatness within the entire rock canon, even though the artists are not household names and the designated discs may, in fact, be the most highly rated of those artists’ catalogs (case in point, The Go-Betweens entry).
So here’s my Top 10 Most Underrated Rock Albums of All Time:
• Led Zeppelin – Presence – This is the band’s least musically diverse, but funkiest release. Its frenetic intensity is driven by the dense, multilayered guitars and propulsive groove of the rhythm section. It includes the almost-prog-rock epic “Achilles Last Stand,” which ranks with “Stairway to Heaven” and “Kashmir” among the group’s crowning achievements. It also includes snatches of ’50s-esque pop in “Candy Store Rock,” a great slow blues along the lines of LZ III’s “Since I’ve Been Loving You” in “Tea for One,” and another borrowed old blues tune in amped up form, “Nobody’s Fault But Mine.”
• Neil Young – Greendale– This 2003 concept album lays out a fully formed, somewhat twisted, folksy tale of a Pacific Coast family’s encounters with an unfortunate murder, the mass media and environmental activism in fittingly simplistic but resonant musical terms. “Sing a song for freedom. Sing a song for love. Sing a song for depressed angels, falling from above.” (I saw Neil perform this album live, complete with stage actors, three times during the Greendale tour.)
• The Who – Who By Numbers– Many say this should have been a Townshend solo album, which may be true, but the band kicks on all gears for most of the songs, including several of the post-Quadrophenia period’s best: “Slip Kid,” “How Many Friends” and “In a Hand or Face.” Then there’s the fanciful farce of “Squeeze Box” (which, like the equally frivolous “Happy Jack” a decade earlier, was a hit single) and Pete’s ukulele strumming and warbling on “Blue, Red and Gray.” One of the first albums I bought brand new upon its release in 1975.
• Bob Dylan – Shot of Love – There are still some vestiges of the Born Again period remaining, but Dylan was coming out of the heavy-handed religiosity of Saved and produced some great songs on this 1981 release. It included rockers ranging from “Property of Jesus,” “Deadman,” “Trouble” and the title track to yet another tribute to an outlaw (Lenny Bruce, in this case) and one of Bob’s most poignant lyrics ever, the transcendent, hymn-like “Every Grain of Sand.”
• Pink Floyd – Animals – George Orwell’s masterful novella, Animal Farm, put to Floyd’s trademark sound and a modern sociopolitical setting. It features some of the best interplay between Gilmour’s guitar and Wright’s keyboards ever captured on record. Alas, it was also the beginning of Waters’ unyielding megalomania.
• The Thrashing Doves – Bedrock Vice *– Long forgotten and forever time-stamped to the period (the mid ’80s) by the occasionally cheesy synth sound, this album is chock full of great pop songs with catchy guitar lines and upbeat lyrical romanticism sung in a not-off-putting trebly hiccup of a style.
• The Go-Betweens – 16 Lovers Lane– This 1988 release is simply one of the best pop albums of all time. The masterful songsmithing outshines even the best of superlative popsters like Squeeze, ’80s era Steve Winwood and The Cure – alternately jaunty and melancholy with less slick production. The often winsome words, minor key melodies and viola embellishments conjure moods familiar to 19th-century romantic poets.
• The Saints – All Fools Day – They started out as a Stones-inspired punk band in the late ’70s and ended as a grungy, hard rock band a few years ago. But, in the interim, Chris Bailey & Co. made a few albums of superb troubadour-like songcraft. This 1987 release captures some of their best. “Just like fire would,” indeed.
• The Church – Priest = Aura– This intercontinental band’s last major label release (Arista, 1992) is dense with lush instrumentation, futuristic/sci-fi lyrics and cinematic feel. The group’s further adventures in opiated ethereality result in a sonic expedition from the cosmos to dank, steam-filled underworlds and back again into the shimmering ether. It kicks off with the churning epic “Aura,” but embarks on the occasional pop exploration (“Feel” and “Kings”) before concluding with the gloriously theatrical “Disillusionist,” the serene noir of “Old Flame” and the requisite sonic freakout of “Chaos.” Great album cover, too.
• Raindogs – Lost Souls – The late, much-lamented Musician magazine pegged this debut from one of Boston’s best bands ever as “The Waterboys eating a Beggar’s Banquet out on Highway 61.” An apt summary. With the late Scottish fiddle wizard Johnny Cunningham and an alternatively melodic and biting two-guitar attack embellishing Mark Cutler’s impressive rootsy songwriting, this album delivers soulful rockin’ like the Stones at their peak. (Bonus points for the Tom Waits-inspired band name.)
In hindsight, I’m intrigued by the fact that three of the 10 bands on this list – The Saints, The Church and The Go-Betweens – are Australian. I suppose that makes sense when you think about it, since Aussie bands don’t get the media or popular attention (even when they deserve it) that American and English bands do, so they’re more likely to be under-appreciated.
ALSO RANS ... A nod to my close runners up: Julian Cope – Saint Julian / Simple Minds – Sparkle in the Rain / David Lindley & El Rayo X* / Gillian Welch – Time (the Revelator) / Bob Marley & The Wailers – Kaya / The Proclaimers – This Is the Story* / Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros – Streetcore / Big Country – Buffalo Skinners / Roy Harper – Valentine / Johnny Cunningham – Fair Warning / Modest Mouse – The Moon and Antarctica / The Lucy Show - Undone / The Refo:mation – Pharmakoi - Distance Crunching Honchos with Echo Units / Bill Nelson – On a Blue Wing
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.
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