The 'Boys Do Yeats Proud

The Waterboys’ 2011 release, An Appointment with Mr. Yeats, was a heartfelt – if hit or miss – reinterpretation of several of the famed Irish writer’s verses (the poet himself referred to his poems as “songs” for they were, in fact, lyrical). In honor of what would be the poet’s 147th birthday, here’s a stripped down version of “Mad as the Mist and Snow” – one of the strongest tunes on Mike Scott and the ’boys’ Yeats collection – recorded live in France earlier this spring.



Dig the masks, too – another Yeats fascination.

The Waterboys Do W.B.

The collision and incendiary results of two of my long-time favorites: My all-time favorite writer, the poet W.B. Yeats, and one of my favorite folk-leaning rock bands, The Waterboys.

Head Waterboy Mike Scott recently undertook the adaption of a set of Yeats poems to rock song format. And while I’m not sold on every single interpretation, some of them are quite inspired ... and inspiring. This is is one of them:

“Mad As the Mist and Snow,” was one of three tunes from The Waterboys’ new release, An Appointment with Mr. Yeats, that the band performed on Later with Jools Holland on 10/28/11.

Music as a Well of Understanding

... or At Least an Emotional Rescue

A hole in the heart of the city, a scar on the psyche of the nation ...

In the flurry of 10th anniversary of 9/11 tributes, observations, reflections and analysis, NPR Music did an interesting, though limited, article on how in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 many of us looked to music and our favorite musical artists to help us make sense of what had transpired – the unthinkable, the unimaginable. Check out the NPR piece here.

For my part, I caught concerts by three artists in the month following the attacks.

First was up was David Byrne at Avalon in Boston, 10 days or so after that infamous day. It was the first time I had seen Byrne and, to be honest, I don’t remember a whole lot about the show. Perhaps I too was still a bit numb. I do remember not being sure quite what to expect of the concert – and not just because I hadn’t seen Byrne before. There was such a different and somber mood in the air. The vibe was utterly changed, at least for a while.

Prior to the show, I wondered: How will it be? How will the audience behave? Will the performers address the situation? Will it be a concert experience like we’re accustomed to, or will it be something else? Such was the pervasiveness of the feeling that our world had been twisted in some unknown and irreversible way.

I do remember Byrne saying something along the lines of what was mentioned in the NPR piece when introducing of the old Talking Heads classic, “Life During War Time,” but that’s about it.

A couple of weeks later, on Oct. 2, I was back at Avalon to see Wilco. It was the first of many times that I’ve seen the Chicago-based folk/alt-country/art rockers play live. At this time, guitarist Jay Bennett had just been booted from the band and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was yet to be released, after much inner-band turmoil and record-company discombobulation over the release of the album (all well-documented in the film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart), but it was the record the band was debuting during that fall tour and it was a convincing show.

In hindsight, this was clearly a transitional period for the band, both in terms of musical focus and member wise. Having shed their alt-country roots, they were just beginning their lengthy foray into more adventurous pop art-rock explorations, which would later result in some incredibly inspired cacophony that conjured comparisons to Pink Floyd and Radiohead at times. But in early October 2001, those days were yet to arrive and guitarist extraordinaire Nels Cline and multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone were not yet part of the band. Yhis was a rare period in which Wilco performed as a four piece.

But back to the Avalon concert: band leader Jeff Tweedy made no mention of recent events. In fact, there was almost no direct talking to the audience at all – in itself unusual given his typical loquaciousness. But the new song “War on War” from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and Mermaid Avenue’s “One By One” both seemed to be imbued with extra resonance as the crowd and the band tuned in to the poignancy of the moment in a noticeable way, even if it wasn’t overtly acknowledged.

Just four days later, I caught back-to-back performances by The Waterboys in New York and Boston. By now, almost a month after the attacks, the magnitude and lasting effect – in essence the realization that our world was truly and fundamentally changed – seemingly forever – had really sunk in.

Mike Scott and Co., touring in support of their new release A Rock in the Weary Land, played concerts that perfectly captured the spirit of resilience in the face of malevolent times. At once uplifting and defiant (in thoughtful way), it was as if many of the songs on A Rock in a Weary Land had been written specifically for the occasion. Even old favorites like “We Will Not Be Lovers,” “The Pan Within” and “Savage Earth Heart” took on a passionate intensity that seemed driven by the times.

The Scotsman also made the most direct statements of any of the concerts regarding the current state of affairs:

In New York: “We’re so glad to see you all. We love this city. And after what happened on September 11th, we really are proud to play for New Yorkers. And we stand shoulder to shoulder with America, too.”

And, in Boston: “Tonight there’s war in the world, but the show goes on.” ... And, “You know, after what happened September 11th, it’s our honor to play for Americans. We’re really glad to be here with you. I noticed that everything is different, and even in a little matter like rock songs, things are different. Stuff that seemed important before, now seems really trivial. We’re going to do a song that I used to dedicate to Jerry Springer, it doesn’t seem so important now, but it’s still fun to poke one at Jerry. The song is called ‘Dumbing Down the World.’”

Which raises an interesting question for today: Ten years on, are we any smarter?

Recalling the Sound of a Special Place

A portrait of the artist’s perspective on lyric composition, songwriting and recording processes from a classic “big music” endeavor 26 years ago ... Some interesting stuff from The Waterboys’ leader Scotsman Mike Scott:

Demos for The Waterboys’ classic 1985 This Is the Sea album are the focus of a new release of mostly piano and vocal demos called In a Special Place, which is what Scott is discussing in this recent interview at EMI offices in London.

The 32 Best Opening Tracks of All Time

OK, I admit it. I’m beginning to get tapped out. I know, hard to believe with a music obsessive like me, but it’s the truth. I’ve done as many “Father Knows Best” Box Sets of CD collections for my teenage daughter as I can think of without completely forcing the concept simply for the concept’s sake, rather than the music’s sake. (Best Foreign Language Rock Songs, anyone?)

So this year, rather than the usual collection of 10 personally selected CDs nestled under the umbrella of some arbitrary theme – Best Debut Albums, Best Live Albums, Most Underrated Albums – I’m delivering my now 15-year-old music-loving daughter one CD (OK, it’s a double CD) highlighting the 32 “Best Opening Tracks of All Time.”

What makes a great opening track? Well, obviously, it must grab you right away. There has to be a dramatic sense of lift off. And it sets the tone for the rest of the album. Some first tracks might be great songs – “Like a Rolling Stone,” “Achilles Last Stand” and “Where the Streets Have No Name” come to mind – but that doesn’t quite make them the best opening tracks. Those are a tune of a different color.

Some bands are particularly adept when it comes to opening tracks, consistently delivering in ways that few others can match. In my catalog of favorites, that would be The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. (Bob Dylan doesn’t do too badly either.)

Think about it. Every Led Zeppelin album except Presence began with a monster opening track – featuring some of the heaviest guitar riffs, drum fills and wailing vocals in rock history. (Ironically, Zep’s one opening misfire was “Achilles Last Stand,” quite possibly the band’s best song ever in my book, but not necessarily a great opening track.) Then there’s The Rolling Stones: “Sympathy for the Devil,” “Gimme Shelter,” “Brown Sugar,” “Rocks Off,” “It’s Only Rock and Roll,” “Miss You” and “Start Me Up” … What more proof do you need?

Of course, the whole concept of a great opening track is predicated on the idea of an album as a specifically sequenced series of songs: something that is quickly fading from public perception – except, perhaps, among us older folks – if not artistic consciousness. Nevertheless, once upon a time that meant something; and how albums began and ended was an important consideration (as was even how side two started in the pre-CD vinyl era).

So here is my “Best Opening Tracks of All Time” playlist:

• “Whole Lotta Love” – II, Led Zeppelin – The greatest rock riff of all time – OK, in close competition with “Satisfaction” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” – paired with the greatest lead guitar break, drum fill and vocal orgasm ever. Res ipsa loquitur.

• “Gimme Shelter” – Let It Bleed, The Rolling Stones – The definition of “classic.” Totally anchored in the late ’60s, yet somehow still contemporary. Pulsing rhythm, menacingly intercedent lead guitar, wailing blues harp and killer background vocals … All that and one of the best maracas parts this side of Santana!

• “London Calling” – London Calling, The Clash – Talk about kicking off an album with jaunty swagger! One of the great classics from the second generation of English rock musicians. Sounds as good today as it did in 1979.

• “Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground” – De Stilj, The White Stripes – Raw force blasts out of the speakers like a slowed down Stooges giving way to an edgy, but understated, melody before bursting back into the ripping chords of the chorus. Proof you don’t need more than simple drums, simple guitar, sincere singing, a good arrangement and crisp recording. Great use of dynamics. Sounds loud at any volume.

• “Lively Up Yourself” – Natty Dread, Bob Marley and The Wailers – The song that first bridged the rock-reggae genre and turned all the Brits on to reggae (Jagger/Richards, Clapton, Page, Parker, et al really took this to heart). The Live version is better, but it doesn’t kick off that album.

• “Subterranean Homesick Blues” – Bringing It All Back Home, Bob Dylan – Right from the start, this song announced a “new Dylan.” The young troubadour was turning on, turning it up and channeling the spirit of Kerouac and Ginsburg, rather than Woody Guthrie. This song embraces the 1960s’ counter-culture while conjuring twisted images of the old-timey Midwest. “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”

• “Planet Telex” – The Bends, Radiohead – One of the first great “post-modern” album tracks. Supremely original, yet still referential. The sound of the future arriving. This album, and the next one (OK Computer), would make Radiohead the biggest band in the word for awhile – until they decided, “Enough of that!”

• “Baba O’Riley” – Who’s Next, The Who – The most famous synthesizer riff of all time sets up that classic, crashing entrance of three chords (you know, the ones that tell the truth). So much more than “teenage wasteland” … though that still resonates in many ways, too. A great start to one of the best sounding Who albums (thank you, Glyn Johns).

• “Rocks Off” – Exile on Main Street, The Rolling Stones – This song doesn’t quite fit the criteria for great opening track the way most of the others on this list do. On the surface, it’s a straightforward mid-tempo rocker, but buoyant subtleties in vocals and instrumentation make it more than just another sprightly Stones song. The result is a perfect start to one of the band’s best albums. Great horns by Bobby Keys, and Nicky Hopkins’s piano jousts with Keith’s chords as the song gallops along. Some tasty Mick Taylor guitar licks buried in the mix, too.

• “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” – Crosby, Stills, Nash, Crosby, Stills, Nash – It’s not easy for a predominantly acoustic song to make this list, but this is what had people seriously calling CSN “the American Beatles” for a short while in 1969-1970. Despite the acoustic feel, there is some perfectly understated electric guitar, too. Then, of course, there’s the ever-present, incomparable vocal harmonies. This song is the apex of Stephen Stills’ artistic accomplishments, and a fully developed template for what CSN would be as a band.

• “Break On Through (To the Other Side)” – The Doors, The Doors – Another great riff that kick starts an album and sets the tone for all that follows. Urgent, with a hint of reckless abandon. It’s easy to focus on the guitar riffs and the organ rhythms, but it’s Densmore’s drumming that makes the track what it is. Interestingly, Morrison’s vocals are rather unremarkable on this one.

• “Immigrant Song” – III, Led Zeppelin – Viking plunder meets hippie consciousness. That opening vocal wail, the funky shuffling drums and the leaden bass/guitar riff yield the sound of the “Hammer of the Gods.” Quite a start to the band’s … ahem … “acoustic” album. Ironically, this is the only Zep song with no guitar solo!

• “World Shut Your Mouth” – Saint Julian, Julian Cope – Edgy 1980s’ pop at its best since The Clash’s pop dabblings. Radio friendly, but retaining some spunk. Great production, too. Sonically, kind of an English forerunner to Cracker in some ways, now that I think about it. The peak of Cope’s career, really – representing a small window of lucidity between acid casualty and eco-earth-mother-archdrude nutcase.

• “Smells Like Teen Spirit” – Nevermind, Nirvana – I have to admit, I was never as smitten with Nirvana as many of my peers and those slightly younger seemed to be. Nevertheless, it’s undeniable that the slackers from Seattle did popularize a noteworthy new coalescence of influences in the form of “grunge.” And “Here we are, entertain us,” does pretty much speak to the attitude of a generation. Yet, ultimately, “Well, whatever, nevermind,” really says it all.

• “Come Together” – Abbey Road, The Beatles – Lennon cops some Chuck Berry lyrics and pairs them with some funky organ riffs and alternately shimmering and piercing guitar fills. One of the best return-to-basics tunes of the mature Beatles’ career. Nice double-tracking on the lead vocals, too. The rest of Abbey Road followed the tone established on this one.

• “Fisherman’s Blues” – Fisherman’s Blues, The Waterboys – Another of the rare acoustic numbers to make this list. Carried by exuberant Celtic fiddle and dream-filled vocals, this song is simplicity perfected (musically and lyrically), punctuated by a spirited delivery. Not just the namesake for the album, but a grand announcement that The Waterboys were serious about their stay in Ireland. The beginning of a lush and fruitful idea, indeed.

• “Trenchtown Rock” – Live!, Bob Marley and the Wailers – One the greatest starts to a live album ever. Though rather than kicking out the jams right from the get go, this stays true to reggae form and eases into the spirit of things, gently setting the mood with a understated rhythm and laid-back melody. “One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain. So hit me with music. Hit me with music now.” … Words to live by.

• “Don’t Bang the Drum” – This Is the Sea, The Waterboys – The last album airing “the big music” that The Waterboys built their early career on – before heading to the craggy terrain of Western Ireland and embracing the Celtic twilight. Roddy Lorimer’s opening trumpet solo provides a unique anticipatory lull before the band kicks into an epic sounding, mid-tempo rocker about “deliverance, or history, under these skies so blue.” Anto Thistlethwaite’s sax joins the trumpet, distorted guitars, keyboards, drums and Mike Scott’s hoots and Dylanesque chants for the clamorous climax: “Just let it come, don’t bang the drum!”

And kicking off Disc 2:

• “In a Big Country” – The Crossing, Big Country – Unfairly pigeon-holed as a band of plaid-wearing Scotsmen with bagpipe-sounding guitars at the dawn of the MTV-era, Big Country was nothing short of a great band for a few albums. This first song on their debut album set the stage. Yes, there were guitars with bagpipe-like effects, but plenty of others, too. And paired with Mark Brezecki’s huge drum sound and Tony Butler’s funky bass, there was something more sophisticated and emotive in this song than the stereotype suggests. Big Country were masters at interweaving ancestral melodies with modern pop-rock sounds, subtle-yet-spirited instrumentation and Stuart Adamson’s atavistic romanticism.

• “Rough Boys” – Empty Glass, Pete Townshend – To this day, Empty Glass remains, to me, Townshend’s best solo album. In fact, this far surpassed what The Who were doing by this point (1980). I think Pete knew that, too. Sophisticated songwriting and arrangements – just as you’d expect from Townshend: nuanced and ripping at the same time. Sounds like he’s worked up some ire not heard since he’d venomously written: “Who the fuck are you?”

• “I Will Follow” – Boy, U2 ­– Like many lead tracks on great debut albums, this was an announcement of arrival, an auspicious start, yet one that now sounds quaint. As dated as it is, that ringing E string and the tinkling triangle remain uniquely engaging. There is a reason that this induced early ’80s’ pop audiences to frenetic pogoing.

• “Shot of Love” – Shot of Love, Bob Dylan – Apocalyptic and pleading, this was the fading echo of Dylan’s gospel period. But it’s also a great, funky, pseudo-gospelesque rocker that has the old bard spitting lyrics like he did at the height of the ’60s. He’s propelled along by Clydie King’s impassioned vocals and Fred Tackett’s rocking guitar.

• “Young Man Blues” – Live at Leeds, The Who – Not the start of the live concert from which it was taken, but the perfect start for the live E.P. that really helped The Who establish sound footing for their career in the U.S. Great as he was, Mose Allison (the song’s composer) never envisioned this!

• “Search and Destroy” – Raw Power, Iggy and the Stooges – Raw power, indeed! Wholly defined by the line, “I’m a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of nepalm.” It’s the quintessential counterpoint to the peace-and-love side of the equation in 1969. The bridge between Eddie Cochran, The Ramones and The Sex Pistols if there ever was one.

• “Finest Worksong” – Document, R.E.M. ­– A somewhat forgotten dose of R.E.M.’s early forays into harder rock, but this song and the album it leads off remain among my favorites by the boho’s from Athens. I played the grooves off this L.P. back in 1987 (and later the zeroes and ones out of the CD version). “What we want and what we need, has been confused” … and it often still is.

• “Wait for the Black Out” – The Black Album, The Damned – A powerful song, despite the now muffled sounding recording (or maybe it’s my hearing that is now muffled). This was the midpoint between the thrashing guitar and pounding drums of the seminal punk band’s early days and their later ultra pop ventures (before they concluded as a heavy metal band, of course). As such, it’s the perfect balance between musicality, unabated energy and something to say — with the boots on to make sure the point comes through loud and clear! The same goes for this entire album, which (recording issues aside) remains very listenable even today. And it leaves no doubt as to why Jimmy Page sought out Rat Scabies to play drums with him shortly after this was released.

• “Teen Angst (What the World Needs Now)” – Cracker Brand, Cracker ­– A catchy, classically rocking track, for sure, but it’s David Lowery’s clever lyrics that make this the keeper it is. No mere sardonic novelty though, the attitude and humor of this song are whipped along perfectly by guitarist Johnny Hickman’s raunchy melodies and clanging chords.

• “Brown Sugar” – Sticky Fingers, The Rolling Stones – What Keef can do with a five-string guitar is more poignant and groovy than most guitarists can do with 12 strings, much less six! This is one of Jagger’s best vocal performances ever (a lot of multi-tracking going on here). And, as is so often the case during this period, Bobby Keys’ sax is fast on the heels of the Human Riff.

• “Debaser” – Doolittle, The Pixies – A perfect example of the Boston band’s twisted take on punky pop rock. Propelled by Kim Deal’s heavy bottom end (bass, that is), Joey Santiago’s fluid lead guitar melodies glide in, out and around Black Francis’ choppy chords and manic vocals.

• “Black Dog” – IV, Led Zeppelin – Those first few seconds of understated guitar scratching are like an engine revving up before the full onslaught of Robert Plant’s a cappella verse vocal and the quintessential hard rock guitar/bass riff. A great performance and production that makes for a powerful start to an incredibly varied album that is also quite possibly the best rock album of all time.

• “Zoo Station” – Achtung Baby, U2 – The stark, steady snare, clanging toms and swirling synthesizer bracing against The Edge’s chiming guitar and Bono’s heavily effected vocals declared that the Irish quartet would be wielding a new sonic palette in the new decade of the 1990s. And indeed they did.

• “Low” – Kerosene Hat, Cracker – Simply a great rock song. One of the true highlights of this band’s long career. Strongly strummed acoustic guitar provides the ground floor, upon which are layered classic rock guitars and cinematic vocals. This is a model of how to do the whole verse/chorus dynamic, not to mention instrumental bridge.

That’s my list … at least for now. There’s another dozen or so songs that nearly made it. What would be on yours?

The Whole of the Moon

September must be a Waterboys kind of month! ... This would’ve been more apropos yesterday, I suppose (then again, there’s still a crescent, right?). Either way, this is a vintage, big-band performance of their biggest pre-Fisherman’s Blues hit, “The Whole of the Moon” from 1985’s This Is the Sea LP. It’s interesting, not only for the presence of newly-arrived fiddler Steve Wickham and keyboardist Karl Wallinger (the brief-tenured Waterboy and future World Party leader), but also for the prominent female backing vocalist and trumpet player. Later live renditions of this song, after Wallinger’s departure, were much more barebones, featuring a nearly solo Mike Scott playing keyboards rather than guitar.

What Care I ... ?

Despite the TV announcer’s misspoken intro. (this is not evidence of The Waterboys’ “big music,” which predates their subsequent Celtic folk dabblings), this video from the 2007 Cambridge Folk Festival brings back fond memories of seeing Mike Scott and his raggle, taggle band of cohorts do a boisterous version of this old folk tune at the Orpheum Theatre in Boston in 1989.

It’s Raining Sounds of The Waterboys

Waterboys main man Mike Scott has been posting some interesting sounds on his SoundCloud page (under his Twitter nom de keys, MickPuck). The music ranges from his own mash-ups of familiar and unfamiliar music from the last half century, as well as demos and live cuts from Scott’s solo career and his work with The Waterboys.

Two recent additions really struck my fancy and are worth checking out: The first being a solo piano and vocal demo of “Don’t Bang the Drum” (click here to listen), from 1985’s This Is the Sea album. As Scott explains, it was recorded at a London studio in March 1985 during demo sessions for all the songs in consideration for The Waterboys’ next album. It’s a raw and spartan rendition. While certainly no comparison to the epic final version – with its lengthy Roddy Lorimer trumpet intro, frenzied sax playing of Anto Thistlethwaite and generally bombastic climax – the core essence of the song remains evident in the simple chords and solitary, impassioned vocal of this demo.

The second outstanding recent post is a rousing live version of “When Ye Go Away” (click here to listen), which first appeared on 1986’s Fisherman’s Blues album. This version was performed by the “Water-Trio,” comprising past and present Waterboys Mike Scott (vocals and guitar), Steve Wickham (fiddle) and Sharon Shannon (accordian). It was recorded at Dean Crow Theatre in Athlone, Ireland in 2004.

Slainté!

The “Water-Trio” of Sharon Shannon, Steve Wickham and

Mike Scott in Cambridge, England, 2007.

The Passenger

This song is one of the overlooked highlights of Iggy Pop’s illustrious career. It’s simplistically poignant (lyrically) with a great repetitive rhythm. There’s even some humor in this 1977 live clip – gotta love the horse’s tale; nice touch, Iggy! – in which the recent Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee looks something like a cross between Frankenstein and Perry Farrell. Not too many front men can compare to Jim Osterberg, that’s for sure!

This lesser-known-but-noteworthy track has since been covered by Siouxsie and The Banshees and The Waterboys, as well as some others, I suspect.

The “Say ‘Heyday’ Kid” *

My teenage daughter and I were having a conversation the other day and I mentioned the word “heyday.” To my surprise, she had never heard the term before (doubly surprising considering what a voracious reader she is).

Striving to give as precise a definition as possible off the top of my head, I explained that it was a person, entity or organization’s “glory days” ... the period of greatest success, happiness, prosperity, etc. A peak of something that has had some degree of duration.

“Oh, like ‘Golden Age,’” she said.

“Yes, very similar,” I replied, “but with a subtle difference.”

I stopped there, not sure that on the spot I could explain exactly what that subtle difference is. Even after consulting the dictionary later to check my assumption, I’m still a bit tongue tied in articulating the subtle distinction between “heyday” and “golden age,” though I’m still convinced there is one. From what I can surmise from Webster’s, which was not wholly explicative on the subject, “heyday” seems to refer to the experience of a smaller or more specific entity (person, organization, etc.), whereas “golden age” tends to be a more universal experience, or at least that of a much larger entity. For example, one might say the “golden age of Rome” or the “golden age of television,” but refer to “CBS News’ heyday with Walter Cronkite” or reference the “band’s heyday” when citing The Rolling Stones’ 1968-1972 period.

Today, I ran across a bunch of live clips of The Waterboys from throughout their career. One of the best was the band performing their simple, but poetic folk song “Fisherman’s Blues” on BBC-TV in April 1986. It struck me that while The Waterboys have had a substantial and lengthy run of it, with some truly outstanding high points, this was the heyday of the band’s career.

Glory days, indeed. Enjoy!

FISHERMAN'S BLUES 86

You do have to wonder what’s up with the studio audience, however. They look near catatonic. Despite the vigor of the band’s performance, the TV studio crowd may well not have even really known who they were. Maybe theses folks were expecting Duran Duran or something!

* Apologies for the tortured – and most definitely dating – Willie Mays reference.