The Clash -- Live At Shea Stadium (2008)

The Clash -- Live At Shea Stadium (Epic/Legacy)

So we finally have a legitimate release of a full Clash live show. It’s too bad it’s not one of the best Clash live shows.

This recording is taken from the 1982 gig where our heroes opened for The Who. This was the Combat Rock era, when the band was at the peak of its popularity. But the band was splintering, for both musical and personal reasons.

One thing that is immediately striking is the composition of the set list: Early single/first album: 2 songs; Give ‘Em Enough Rope: 2; London Calling: 5; later single: 1; Sandinista: 2; Combat Rock: 2. This gives you an idea of where the band’s collective head was at around this time.

As shows go, this certainly wasn’t a bad one, but I’m sure most big Clash fans have heard a prior bootleg that has a lot more going for it. I think that Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune makes a good point that Terry Chimes (a/k/a Tory Crimes) taking over for Topper Headon lead to a drop off in the drumming. Chimes is alright, but, for the most part, he was not very forceful.

This would explain why most of the better performances during the gig were songs like "The Guns of Brixton" and the blended pair "The Magnificent Seven" and "Armagideon Time". Here, the rhythms were funkier and Chimes seems to take to them more. Yes, this does seem odd, since Chimes cut his teeth on the earlier powerhouse rocking material from 1977.

That being said, "Spanish Bombs" isn’t exactly a burner, and it’s the worst performance on the album. It sounds like it’s in the wrong key and the band can’t get a handle on how to tackle it (more forceful? more chipper?). Yet this is followed by a pretty good take on "Clampdown".

The other disappointment on the album is "London Calling". Granted, this song is so perfect on album, that recreating its magnitude on stage was never easy. Still, the band sounds tentative.

I don’t think this is due to lack of commitment or engagement. It’s hard to imagine Joe Strummer ever being less than intense, and Mick Jones is spirited in his vocal turns. I think it’s more a by-product of playing in such an unwieldy venue. You can hear the cheers in the background, but this had to be a crowd that mixed in fans with some geezers looking at their watches and wondering when the guys with broad accents and combat duds would get off the stage for The Who.

This is fairly entertaining, but I hope that someday, some better full gigs come out legitimately. Until then, I’ve got a 1979 show from the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago to enjoy.

The Parties -- Can't Come Down (2008)

The Parties -- Can’t Come Down (Rainbow Quartz)

This California quartet has its sound down. This is Jangle Pop 101 with a minor in harmony vocals. The first name that comes to mind when hearing The Parties is The Byrds. This is followed by great harmony groups such as The Hollies and The Searchers. While I don’t think the harmonies here rise to that standard, they are pretty good.

The band has enough personality, reflected both in the playing and the compositions, to make this a fine listen. This is demonstrated on “Breaking Hearts”, which brings the jangle to a fevered pitch. In a manner similar to The Last, The Parties play this dramatic tune with a great deal of intensity (especially in the lead vocal), which makes the hooks hit that much harder.

Speaking of hitting hard, “Radio” is a spirited number with a strong guitar riff propelling the proceedings. This song actually has two strong hooks, one in the bridge to the chorus, and then the chorus itself, which relies on riding a rhythm guitar and call-and-response vocals. This song also illustrates the superb production on the record. Chris Dunn and the band should take a bow, as they guys take stereo separation seriously, in a way that allows every instrument to get its due.

The second half of the record is stronger than the more-than-fine first, on the strength of songs like “Waterfall” (which comes close to the great lost Hollies song bliss of the like minded band The Resonars), the pretty folk rocking “Gotta Get Out”, and the Grip Weed-ish (Grip Weedy?) “Damned By the Sunshine”.

Again, let me reiterate how well recorded this is. Of course, if the songs weren’t so good, that wouldn’t matter much, I suppose.

10 Quality Rock Reads

Today, I just finished reading the original Christgau's Record Guide, covering Robert Christgau's '70s reviews. In 1978, I started reading Creem Magazine, and that's where I discovered Christgau. When the Record Guide came out in 1982, a promotional copy was sent to my high school radio station, along with a publicist's number. I called the number and got an interview with Christgau.

About all I remember from the interview is that near the end, I heard some pounding on the outside door. It was a Saturday and the outer door was locked and my friend Dale needed me to open it. I wrapped up the interview quickly. I only remember one quote, when Christgau told me that punk rock saved his life. I understand that more now then I did then.

Steve Wynn -- Crossing Dragon Bridge (2008)

Steve Wynn -- Crossing Dragon Bridge (Rock Ridge)

While probably still best known as the leader of Dream Syndicate, Steve Wynn has built quite the resume as a solo artist. After I picked up his latest, I realized I have almost all of his solo releases. I guess I’m a bigger fan than I thought.

And Wynn seems to getting better with every album. His last studio album, Tick...Tick...Tick, was an explosive rock platter. This new album is a pure songwriting album. In the liner notes, Wynn details how producer Chris Eckman (founder of The Walkabouts) had Wynn come out to Eckman’s home studio in Slovenia. Eckman sought to boil Wynn’s songs down to an essence -- just Steve and his guitar.

But this wasn’t just something out of the Rick Rubin with a classic artist playbook. After recording these songs in a spartan manner, phase two of the recording involved adding whatever other elements would be needed to enhance the song, whether it be strings from a Czech orchestra, or Chris (ex-Green On Red) Cacavas’s keyboards, or percussion from Linda Pitmon.

The resulting disc might be Wynn’s best yet. Of course, this is probably the third or fourth time I’ve written those words in a review of a Wynn album. That’s because he’s that good.

The album mixes eloquent and inspiring tracks with just enough of Wynn’s rock leanings. Early on, Wynn illustrates his capacity for the grand gesture on “Manhattan Faultline”. This bittersweet symphony uses the notion of an NYC earthquake zone as a metaphor for a relationship that falls apart all of the sudden.

The song is stately and dignified, with majestic chords and matching lead guitar accompaniment. The track steadily builds and when the strings kick in and Pitmon joins in with backing vocals on the choruses, an enveloping wistfulness transpires. Meanwhile, Wynn is philosophical without being overwrought: “You’d think at a certain point in your life/you’ve learned everything that you’re going to learn/but sparks lead to fires and fires lead to ashes/at least you know for sure you’ve been burned.”

Wynn gets a bit heavier on “When We Talk About Forever”. This is another track with string accompaniment, bolstering a folk structure that is somewhat similar to some of T-Bone Burnett’s early work, with a dollop of Lou Reed thrown in. It’s a lovely song about commitment, which fuses a measure of joy with a sober sense of the task that any couple knows is lying ahead. This is a mature and thoughtful piece of music.

Wynn shows the ability to mess with what he does well on the audacious “Annie and Me”. The song starts off as a spirited acoustic gallop, a tale of two teenagers who merrily live in a world of casual sex and petty crime. This could have appeared on other Wynn albums. But then the song then shifts into a totally different mood, with a slower tempo. In this second part of the song, and it appears that the protagonist is now older and full of regret, as if the upbeat part of the song is actually a flashback. This interlude comes to an end, with Kirk (Dumptruck) Swan’s twangy guitar in overdrive, and the defiant lyrics of the first part now meaning something entirely different.

On “Love Me Anyway”, Wynn looks at trust issues. Specifically, how tough it is to open up to someone: “Tightly wound and careful/surreptitiously/knowing that you’re knowing/only part of me/love me anyway.” These uneasy feelings are set to a slinky and funky blues rock rhythm, as if the music is supplying the intimacy the protagonist is seeking. Wynn is full of wisdom, observing about love “if it seems that easy/you’re not doing it properly.”

What makes this such a wholly satisfying album is that Wynn is at his peak as a lyricist, looking a personal relationships with acuity, wit and empathy, and expressing himself in terse phrases that cut to the heart rather than merely sound glib. The carefully crafted music gels with the lyrics to the point where they seem to be organically connected.

I’ve been steadily listening to this album for about two months and I’m still finding new nuances that add to my enjoyment. This record is one of the stellar achievements of 2008.

Fujiya & Miyagi -- Lightbulbs (2008)

Fujiya & Miyagi -- Lightbulbs (Deaf Dumb and Blind)

The low key electro-funk of this British band is pretty insinuating. Funk is a hot music and they play it cool, without sounding stiff. You can certainly dance to it. But can you mix funk with Kraut rock?

The deadpan approach extends to the vocals and the simplistic lyrics. How simple? Fujiya & Miyagi are probably only a notch or two above the mechanistic German ‘70s disco band Silver Convention. This approach is both a help and a hindrance. On one hand, the minimalism makes it catchy. On the other hand, the songs often convey their message in the first two minutes or so. Then it’s all up to the groove. And this is where the chilly vibe may hurt some of the tracks. Funk grooves work because they cook. They stir the listener. The measured approach of F & M makes this likeable but makes it hard to get fully engaged.

So the album is a bit of a mixed bag. A few songs announce the groove and then don't really go anywhere. This includes songs like "Pussyfooting", "Knickerbocker" and "Pickpocket". They all have enough to be memorable, but, as I alluded to earlier, after about 90 seconds, I've heard all I need to hear.

This is especially true of "Pickpocket", which has exceedingly stupid lyrics, even relative to the rest of the words on the album. "Why do you put your hands into other people's pockets," David Best sings in his typically muted voice. I dunno David, maybe because he can't convince people to buy his CDs? Illegal downloading is a bitch, you know.

Not all of the grooves run out of steam for me. "Sore Thumb" sounds like a demo for an old Shriekback tune, with a nice hook, as the groove stops for Best to sing, "My favorite song is "Strange Times"/sticks out like a sore thumb." The instrumental break rides the beat while some poor man's Bernie Worrell keyboards work their magic.

And "Uh" is the song that deserves an extended 12" mix for the clubs. Lee Adams' drums are crisp and the entire quartet commits to the rhythm, and the rhythm rewards them. Thumbs up.

My other fave rave is the one real change up on the album, "Goosebumps". This is a pretty slow song, with spacey electronic backing. If Wire collaborated with Goldfrapp, it would have sounded something like this. It's the classic chilly yet warm vibe that you can get from well deployed electronics, and Best's whispering vocals are perfect for the track. This is one of two tracks which show how F & M can become more well-rounded.

The other is the instrumental that closes the album, "Hundreds & Thousands". This track demonstrates the potential Fujiya & Miyagi have as a four piece band. Steve Lewis plays some simple keyboard lines, with compelling melodies, contrasting with the metronomic rhythm track. I'd love to hear more songs in this vein.

I generally enjoy the basic Fujiya & Miyagi sound, but the band's base sound does not wear well over the course of an entire album. The tracks that deviate from the formula show the potential for growth. Of course, there is also the matter of the lyrics, but one thing at a time.

Ben Folds -- Way To Normal (2008)

Ben Folds -- Way To Normal (Epic)

When Ben Folds broke on the scene, he was a piano popster with a bit of an attitude. Not edge, but attitude. He was truly sophomoric as his energetic songs seemed to capture the world of a 20-year old guy and the rationalizations and foolishness that go along with it.

Folds quickly added dimension to his persona, with the hit single “Brick” showing off a mature lyricist and a tunesmith capable of achingly good work. And that second dimension has been his only addition. He’s either a smart ass or a sensitive guy.

And the smart ass thing is losing a lot of its appeal. This new Folds album is frustrating, as his clever arrangements and melodic ingenuity are still winning. But his writing has become increasingly insular, as if he has lost some of his purpose. There has always been a tension between the smart ass and the sensitive, and as the smart ass gets more annoying, the sensitive seems to sound a lot more insincere.

I just don't know what to make of a song like "Errant Dog", where Ben gripes over a rollicking piano part about a canine pain-in-the-ass. But it seems like Folds is intent on seeing what he can rhyme with the word "bitch" or coming up with lines like "sometimes I wonder why I put up with his shit/if I could, I would become a lesbian." Yeah, Ben, whatever.

Album opener "Hiroshima (B B B Benny Hit His Head)" is another strained exercise in cleverness. The song is about Ben falling down on stage, apparently into an orchestra pit, in Hiroshima. This tale is told pretty straightforwardly, and, as it stands, it's not very compelling. So Folds spices things up, as indicated in the title, by setting his mundane words to an homage to Elton John's "Benny and the Jets". Okay, that's not bad source material, I suppose. But the whole thing never coalesces.

I do enjoy a couple of Folds's snarkfests, though I'm digging one of them grudgingly. A spoken word set up somehow makes "Bitch Went Nuts" tolerable, despite Folds potty mouthed for the sake of being potty mouthed lyrics (look, I'm no prude, but Folds' willing use of so many FCC unfriendly words robs them of any power). In the intro, the Asian accented narrator (who's a bit less offensive than Mickey Rooney in Breakfast At Tiffany's) explains that when a women breaks up with a guy, she'll attribute it to specific problems with the guy. But whenever a guy break up with a gal, she went nuts. This is true more often than most guys might want to admit. So I laugh in spite of myself.

Then there's "Free Coffee", in which Folds makes the observation that being rich and famous affords one more privileges than when one is not, even though, because one is rich and famous, the perks are unnecessary. This unremarkable observation is made in an unremarkable fashion.

But the music is sublime. Folds plays pretty piano figures on top of a ridiculously inventive percussion track that mixes drums, electronics, sound effects and who knows what else. Man, it sounds great on headphones. This is simply cool.

Folds saves his softer side for the end of the album. But neither "Effington" or "Kylie From Connecticut" fully connect, even though both are infused with solid Folds melodies. "Effington" is lush wide screen pop, as Folds moons over the joys of a small town life that he is not living. The song seems to attempt to cross breed a little Burt Bacharach sophistication with Billy Joel drama. This song sort of works for me, again, because of the terrific music. But I'm baffled why Folds decides to sing about the Illinois town of Effington, Illinois, when there's a real Effingham, Illinois, and, more importantly, why he felt the need to devote the first verse to singing about people "effing" in their cars, yards and trailers. Well, maybe not baffled, but the immaturity is a drag.

"Kylie" comes off a bit better. It's about a housewife who clings to love from 35 years past. The narrative lays out some details and otherwise leaves a whole lot of blanks that I wish he had filled in. So much drama is built up and I don't think the words full resolve it. The song has a nifty instrumental break, where a heavy Folds piano weaves in with a great string arrangement.

This really typifies the frustration I have with this album. Folds would benefit from a producer who could pull out the best of what he can do. He is capable of true insight and fabulous music. Yet it only comes through intermittently. There are tracks here that simply work well, like "You Don't Know Me", which has a cameo from Regina Spektor, and the boppin' "The Frown Song". But there simply aren't enough of them. And that just shouldn't be the case.

New Radiant Storm King -- Drinking In the Moonlight (2008)

New Radiant Storm King -- Drinking In The Moonlight (Darla)

I hadn’t heard anything from this veteran band in quite a while, so this album is a pleasant surprise. The King is a classic purveyor of college radio rock. The music isn’t explicitly pop, but it doesn’t burrow into any trendy genre. Instead, the emphasis is on intelligent songwriting with strong melodies. Often, this sort of band might lack some vocal personality, relying on hooks and guitar lines to draw the listener in. Who else falls in this category? Let me give you two examples, Dumptruck and Kingsbury Manx.

The band has two frontmen, for lack of a better term, who share such a common sensibility that they are practically interchangeable. Matt Hunter and Petyon Pinkerton, the latter who is familiar to many as the lead guitarist for Pernice Brothers, have warm voices that fit the low key tunes.

Low key doesn’t mean boring. Far from it. What makes these songs work is the precise interplay between the instruments, particularly Hunter and Pinkerton’s guitars. While many of these songs would probably sound fairly good on a couple of acoustics, the guitarists and the rhythm section really shape them into something really compelling.

Nothing is more compelling than "Eight Steps Closer". This song is a classic example of building tension to a climax. The two lead guitars play tense leads with a wan melody on top. Meanwhile, J.J. O’Connell is in near metronome mode on his drum kit. Eventually, the song moves into a more forceful melody with equally strong guitars. And then it’s back to that prickly feeling. One of the best tracks I’ve heard all year.

It’s followed by "After the After Hours". Here, a reverbed guitar part is offset by some acoustic noodling. The main hook of the song is a series of quickly strummed chords, which abruptly halt. I get the impression that these guys devote a lot time to the underpinnings of these songs, and then figure out the melody and the lyrical thrust. This song is steeped in atmosphere and the band builds on it very effectively.

One song that let’s the melody take the lead is "Fall Prey". It is a piano driven pop song that comes from the same territory as Harry Nilsson and Kevin Tihista. The King constructs the song a bit more loosely, and the tight pop construction of the chorus makes the stretching out of the song more than tolerable.

"Fall Prey" evinces good feelings, and "Islander" is even more cheerful. This song sounds like it was designed to fit between R.E.M. and The Church on a 1985 college radio songlist. The song has a bevy of hooky parts, especially memorable guitar parts. But this band knows how to grab the ear with tempo shifts and rhythm tricks too.

I don’t have enough of the band’s albums to assess where this ranks in the catalog. But if they have better albums than this, it’s incumbent on me to check them out.