Every week I post a song, for no reason other than it's fabulous. It may be old or new, obscure or over-exposed. No explanation, no fancy spiel, just solid gold popular music. Oh, and it's a secret, so you'll just have to trust me.
I've never been a musician as I don't have the stones to stand in front of a room of strangers and entertain them. But my passion, and I hope my knowledge, of pop music is deep, profound and an essential part of my being. I trust my ears, they have never let me down, which leads to me believe I could be a great svengali, if you are prepared to ignore the admittedly rather central point that they often have more charisma than their charges.
So when I consider the kind of band I would construct, in order to destroy all other pop music through their sheer brilliance, I like to think of them in terms of other bands. A kind of hybrid recipe, if you will. I want power of James Brown and the Famous Flames, I want the catchiness of Abba, the soul of Otis Redding, the oddness of Screaming Jay Hawkins, the humour of Devo, the punk energy of Little Richard and the authority of Public Enemy. Oh, and the brass of Sly and The Family Stone, because I love brass in rock 'n roll.
There are problems with this plan of mine, mainly the fact that it is impossible to be that good, (and anyway, if it were achieved, surely all other artists in all genres would cease to create as it would become obvious that their endeavours were wasted in the face of this new phenomena.) Secondly, someone has already tried it, and they were called Rocket From The Crypt.
The band was formed in San Diego in 1990, and they recorded several fantastic albums of pure rock n roll music, filtered through decades of soul, funk, glam, punk and hardcore. They took all these influences and melded them to some of the most immaculate pop songs of the nineties. You may even remember them for their number twelve UK hit On A Rope, which gave them the opportunity to perform on Top of the Pops.
Of course in a fair and just world the song would have reached number one, and be played at weddings and funerals across the world ad infinitum. Why we don't live in this world has yet to be explained to me yet.
There were many other reasons to love RFTC, aside from the music (as if that's not enough):
1) They wore matching clothes. All the best bands wear uniform. See Devo, the Beach Boys, Talking Heads, Daft Punk, the White Stripes, Kraftwerk etc.
2) They had a roadie who used to come on stage and dance and sing backing vocals. He also wore the uniform.
4) At Glastonbury, they parted the crowd and persuaded the schmucks to make a huge mud slide.
5) They breathed fire.
6) They had aliases (Speedo, Petey X, ND, Apollo 9, Atom, JC 2000), which is always cool.
But the main reasons, for me, to love RFTC were the incredible live shows and obviously the songs. I guess I was lucky to have been a teenager at a time when bands like this could get on the cover of the NME and been seen performing live on prime time BBC. But this shouldn't be about nostalgia, as even though they split up two years ago, their music is as fresh as it ever was. This is an important band, and should be valued as such. Spread the word and enjoy the punk heat blast.
Every week I post a song, for no reason other than it's fabulous. It may be old or new, obscure or over-exposed. No explanation, no fancy spiel, just solid gold popular music. Oh, and it's a secret, so you'll just have to trust me.
Firstly, he does guest vocals on the new Fatboy Slim project, the Brighton Port Authority. You can say what you want about Norman Cook, but you can't deny he knows his way around a pop tune, so the combination of the two of them, with Dizzee Rascal, is pretty irresistable. Nice cheeky video too.
Secondly, he has turned a building in New York into a giant musical instrument. Well, musical is debatable, but it seems pretty cool to me.
Here's a new feature at jamesinbrasil. Every week I will post a song, for no reason other than it's fabulous. It may be old or new, obscure or over-exposed. No explanation, no fancy spiel, just solid gold popular music. Oh, and it's a secret, so you'll just have to trust me. Solid Gold Popular Music Number One
I haven't had many musical epiphanies in my life (who has?), but one I clearly remember happened about 8 years ago. I was channel hopping in bed, trying to wake up, when I turned onto VH1 classics. They were showing Bo Diddley's Bo Diddley, a grainy performance from sixties TV. Something about it made me sit bolt upright in my bed, utterly captivated by the video. The primal backbeat, the egotastic simplicity of the lyric, Bo's shuffling dance, the bee-hived female backing vocals (which I'm always a sucker for), the screaming, white teenagers and sheer force of the song all compressed into a two minute alarm clock. I can't help but be jealous of everyone involved, existing at a time when music felt truly revolutionary, not just sonically, but socially.
Thanks to the joys of the modern world, I can now share this video with you. I hope you feel ten percent of the joy that I feel when I watch it:
The other day I was waiting for the bus when one drove by with the message "Nos vamos com O Senhor" (We go with God) on the front. Now this isn't entirely surprising in this country (home of the world's largest Catholic community), but it was on the electronic display where you would expect to see the destination. And I understand that Catholicism requires a leap of faith, but surely even the most ardent god-botherer would flinch at this. Do you trust the Lord to take you home, or do you wait for the next one? Guess what I did.
Man alive, do Brazilians love to get their Jesus on. And when you come from a largely secular country as I do, it can be a little disorienting to see such obvious shows of faith. 90% of the people I see reading in public are reading the Bible. It is very common to see people wearing t-shirts proclaiming their faith and devotion to the almighty. I also find it a little embarrassing, in my own English way, to see such a public display of emotion. Surely this is a private thing, to be respected, but kept to yourself? They parade it in the same way that I used to show off my taste in US indie bands when I sixteen: put it on your chest.
I guess this says more about me then it does about them, after all, why should they be ashamed and hide it away all anglo-saxon style? It's not exactly the Brazilian way. But just so you get an idea of how I feel, see below:
I kinda forgot about my Talking Heads round up, so let's bring it back and finish it off, starting here...
My favourite period of Talking Heads is the Stop Making Sense era. Not only is that my favourite of their albums, it's also one of the best films of all time. I must have seen it 12 times at least. So I guess it makes sense that the album recorded at that time is my favourite of all their studio albums. It's often overlooked, although for good reasons. It isn't produced by Brian Eno, it doesn't have Psycho Killer or Once In Lifetime on it and it was recorded in the eighties when everyone thinks of them as the quintessential New York seventies group. However it possesses possibly the finest opening quartet of songs in all of rock (Burning Down The House, Making Flippy Floppy, Girlfriend Is Better, Slippery People) and the finest song David Byrne ever wrote (This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)). It a perfectly realised balance between pop, punk, funk and afrobeat, one which neither they or anyone else has bettered.
Here are my favourite tracks from February's blog pillage:
Sebastien Tellier's new album, Sexuality, is a splendid collection of breathy French housey pop, with production by Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo of Daft Punk. It's not as full on as you would expect from that association, referencing more Daft Punk's love of 70's AM rock, as previously heard on Digital Love. It sounds like the kind of music that fellow Frenches Air and Phoenix attempted (and failed, in my humble opinion) to capture. Here's my favourite track, Divine, which reminds of a The The hit from the eighties which I can't remember the name of.
Free Blood features John Pugh, a former !!!-ster, and that's all I needed to know to investigate any further. They do not disappoint, as the video below shows:
Here's a track I shuffled across. I grabbed it a few of months ago, and should have put it up here before. I don't know anything about Findlay Brown, but the remix is by Beyond The Wizards Sleeve, who are Erol Alkan and Richard Norris, formerly of the Grid. This is the remix for people who don't like remixes, as BTWS gives the two DJ's the opportunity to showcase their love of psychedelia, Nuggets style garage rock, soundtracks and other oddities. It's one of the best remixes of the last year, and unlike anything else around. It also really reminds of something, but I can't figure out what. Any suggestions would be welcome.
And in other news, DFA records is the best. But they also don't like mp3 blogs very much, so you can go elsewhere to acquire the ace new LCD Soundsystem track, the tremendous new Juan Maclean single Happy House, and the fine new Hercules and Love Affair album.
For those of you who are Facebook inclined, I have set up a group for you to join if you wish. I'm not exactly sure why, possibly it's just to mention the group sleeveface, which is genius and provided me with astonishing image above.
March 7th is the day of the Marines, and of global prayer.
There used to be a really good second hand vinyl shop in Ruislip, north west London, called Sellanby (do you see what they did there?) that I frequented often, as it had loads of classic records for really good prices. I distinctly remember returning home from one successful trip with three records, Devo's Are We Not Men? We Are Devo, David Bowie's Heroes and Talking Heads Fear Of Music. It was only when I was pouring over the sleeves that I realised that the all three of these records were produced by Brian Eno. In my early to mid-twenties, when I really did my homework and discovered the music that I love the most, he was always there, at every turn. Glam rock, check, punk rock, check, new wave, check, experimental music, check, krautrock, check...
The thing with writing about Brian Eno is that it's really daunting. His discography is so vast and all-encompassing, it's impossible to know where to begin. Do I talk about his rock albums, ambient works, Roxy Music albums (they were never the same after he left), production, or even his installations, motivational speeches, journalism, political roles or 'obliquestrategies.'
I think it's best to leave all that aside, and let you investigate for yourself, if you haven't already. Suffice it to say, I know that my taste in music would be much poorer if it wasn't for him.
Sâo Paulo, Rio De Janeiro, Salvador...they sound so exotic and tropical to us non-Brazilians. But as soon as you have a basic grasp of the Portuguese language, then you realise that actually these names are really mundane and boring. So here's my guide to boring Brazilian place names:
Sâo Paulo - St. Paul Rio De Janeiro - January River Salvador - Saviour Santos - Saints Recife - Reef Belo Horizonte - Nice horizon Rio Preto - Black river Rio Branco - White river Ouro Preto - Black gold Natal - Christmas Fortaleza - Fort Porto Alegre - Happy port Campo Grande - Big field Boa Vista - Good view Sâo José Do Rio Preto - St. Jose of the black river Brasília - Britain-chester
So what do we learn from this? Well not a lot, obviously. Just because January River is such a tedious name doesn't stop Rio from being lovely. I suppose it does show us that the Portuguese settlers were very unimaginative folks, and that, despite it's faults, Woodingdean is a very exotically named place to have grown up.
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