Though most of us don’t think about it much, we all inherently know how powerful brands are in Western culture. A case in point is the “branded ABC’s” (shown below). At a glance, I can readily identify 25 out of the 26 brand-associated “letters.” Can you guess them all?
What is a brand really? In most cases, it not only represents certain qualities of a particular product (or line of products), if effectively infused in the public consciousness, it also represents certain affinities and aspirations of those who buy and use the product.
Whether we recognize it or not, even the less consumer-oriented among us have brand loyalties – in cars, gasoline, clothing, toiletries, laundry detergent, sports equipment, etc. Think about what brands you like … and why? How much of it has to do with pervasive and effective advertising vs. genuine utility and your satisfaction with the product(s). How much of it is habit without any real rationale? To what degree is it simply a matter of convenience?
Although I’d have to say my brand allegiance is tenuous in most cases, a few of my favorites that come readily to mind are: Apple, C.F. Martin, Dalwhinnie, Ecco, Ipswich Beer, Guinness Stout, Old Spice, Skagen, Scotch Tape, Starbucks, Staples, Tom’s of Maine, Volkswagen. There are a few other brands that I would’ve included on this list, but deterioration in product quality over time eventually led to their falling out of favor. Brand allegiance, after all, only goes so far.
I just watched the new DVD release of the famed 1964 T.A.M.I. Show at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. You know, the concert that Sting referred to in the 1980 Police song “When the World Is Running Down, You Make the Best of What’s Still Around”:
Turn on my VCR, same one I’ve had for years / James Brown on the T.A.M.I. Show, same tape I’ve had for years …
Well, I hadn’t seen this particular performance before, but watching this old footage (newly restored for DVD) leaves little doubt about what an incendiary and trailblazing performer James Brown was in his prime. One thing is blatantly clear from this video: There would be no Michael Jackson without the Godfather of Soul … that’s for sure! The guy’s feet had a life of their own.
You have to love the showmanship. And posturing though it obviously was, it’s priceless when, having given it his all and verging on the edge of physical collapse, J.B. just can’t help but throw off the robe, push his handlers aside and return yet again to the mic to give us just a little bit more. Soul power, indeed. Awesome!
It’s hard to believe that this was only 1964, and that Elvis had caused such a stir only eight years before – for doing nothing like this!
Here are two brief YouTube excerpts, but check out the DVD to get the full impact of Brown’s high-octane performance, as well as other worthwhile ones by Chuck Berry, Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, The Supremes, and a very young Rolling Stones, among others.
Not nearly complete, but close enough to get the idea.
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 a long-time media professional, I’ve always seen Facebook as a personal publishing platform as much as a social connection tool. It’s a useful vehicle for personal expression and (re)distribution of information and ideas – especially for those who choose to use it in substantive ways. (O.K., there aren’t too many of them, but that’s all right.)
After about a year and half of fairly intense use of the social networking site, I’ve learned a few things. This is it in a nutshell:
1. Many people have an awful lot of free time on their hands.
2. People are often not working when “at work.”
3. Humor is a very idiosyncratic thing and doesn’t always translate as well electronically as in person.
4. Some people are just plain argumentative.
5. Some people are overly earnest. (I’m probably more serious than most, but not all of the time. C’mon, people, humor is the spice of life! )
6. Many people (myself included) are obsessive about certain topics.
7. Some people feel compelled to comment on anything and everything – whether or not they have anything to say or know anything about the topic at hand.
8. Many people – and I mean MANY – comment on things without even reading them first. And of those who do read them first, some don’t do it very carefully.
9. I have more politically conservative friends than I thought (though plenty of liberal ones, too … whew!).
10. People sure do love farms (though I don’t know anyone who actually lives on one).
“Tragic … Simply tragic.” I imagine the words spoken in Monty Python-ese by Michael Palin as I scan the sparse audience of 250 or so at The Church’s lone Boston area gig on their Spring 2010 tour.
How could a band as epically good as these veteran Aussie art rockers attract such a spartan crowd? Lack of promotion, years of record company neglect and managerial ineptitude, consumer complacency and ignorance, or some kind of cosmic artistic injustice? Whatever the reason, the turnout is disheartening for a devotee like myself. People should be flocking to witness this band’s transcendent brilliance on display.
Nevertheless, The Church hold nothing back in this, the 13th stop on their 22-date 30th anniversary tour. To mark the occasion, they’re systematically featuring one song from each of their 23 full-length albums, performed in reverse sequential order from most recent to earliest (albeit with a bit of cheating).
Having regained some momentum over the past few years, it seems The Church have come to accept that they have a small (but passionate) following that appreciates their sophisticated brand of chiming space rock. After all, the band did bill this tour “An Intimate Space.” And that’s precisely what the recently renovated Somerville Armory offers. A 300-seat, gymnasium-like performance hall (though a fancied-up one) on the outskirts of Boston.
I have seen The Church live a dozen or so times since 1986, and despite the fact that they’ve done a couple of acoustic tours in the past, this is the first time I’ve seen them in this arrangement. As I expected, it is energetic and interesting, although likely even more so for the already converted than for the new initiates.
The acoustic treatment and the near-constant trading around of instruments among the musicians draws out different nuances and highlights different aspects of the songs. Some are radically reworked (most notably “Reptile” and “The Unguarded Moment”), while others take on new power and prominence (“Invisible” and “10,000 Miles”), and at least one really shines in a whole new way (an absolutely combustible finale on “Grind”).
The harmony vocals are much more prominent than in the band’s electric presentation – a pleasant discovery for a grizzled old follower like me. Guitarist Peter Koppes plays quite a bit of keyboards, some mandolin and harmonica, as well as several different acoustic guitars. Meanwhile, Marty Willson-Piper plays various acoustics guitars, mandolin and bass on several occasions, as well as contributing his distinctive vocal stylings (lead and background) throughout.
I especially like the band’s turn on “Jazzy Reptile,” as singer/bassist Steve Kilbey dubs their rendition of the radio-friendly hit from 1988’s landmark Starfish album (but for the purposes of this concert associated with its appearance in acoustic form on 2007’s El Momento Siguiente release). Koppes plays MWP’s original, catchy, descending guitar lick on electric piano, while Marty translates Peter’s sustained electric guitar melody to acoustic guitar.
Other stellar renditions of the night are “Invisible” (from 2002’s After Everything Now This), “Comedown” (from 1996’s Magician Among the Spirits), “My Little Problem” (from 1994’s Sometime Anywhere), “10,000 Miles” (from 1984’s Remote Luxury) and “Grind” (from 1992’s Priest = Aura). The aforementioned “Reptile,” as well as “Almost With You” and “Appalatia,” on which Koppes takes a turn on lead vocals, are also quite remarkable.
Somewhat less effective – and I’m being hyper critical here, as only a long-time curmudgeonly fan is wont to do – are: “Louisiana” (one of my all-time favorite Church songs), which seems a little anemic, lacking the majesty of the electric version; and “Space Saviour,” which was better realized in fully electric form on last summer’s “So Love May Find Us” tour. The band’s first big hit, 1981’s “The Unguarded Moment,” came across as a bit too languid for my taste. Nonetheless, even these few misfires were still entertaining.
In typically blunt fashion, Kilbey has posted blog comments about feeling fatigued at points on this tour, but you couldn’t guess that from this performance. He played with exuberance and feeling, and warmly engaged the audience and his band mates between songs – something we’ve seen an increasing amount of in recent years as the singer has reinvigorated himself as the band’s frontman.
Drummer/engineer Tim Powles not only provided a solid foundation throughout on drums and percussion – giving the acoustic treatments impressive horse power – but he also played some piano, sang backing vocals and added to the entertaining intra-band banter. As the group’s newest member (only 17 years in the fold) and its fourth drummer, Powles is often overlooked. But, I believe, without him the band probably wouldn’t exist today.
There are nine more shows to go on this 30th anniversary tour – from New York City (4/22) to Atlanta (5/1). Go see one of them, you’ll be redeemed … and you’ll get a nice program and new CD free with your ticket!
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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