Consumer advisory: this month's playlist has been written under
the influence of the cold that has been cutting a swath through large parts of
the Canberra public service in recent times. So it is without the wit and sharp
observations that I usually bring to the … Wait … What's that? … I don't? … Oh.
Well then, you will hardly notice the difference. On with the, uh, show.
"Pinball", by Brian Protheroe. Mostly with these
playlists I am leaning towards music that I either have never heard before or
haven't heard for an unfeasibly large number of years. This song is a bit
different, in that I have long been partial to a "rework" of it by
Ashley Beedle. But now, having been acquainted with this, the original, I am
inclined to think that any reworking was, really, unnecessary: it isn't a song
that requires added echo or squelchy synths, or an extended
"mood-setting" opening minute or so (not that any of those things are
necessarily bad); it can stand on its own two feet.
"Os Grilos", by Marcos Valle. There are so many
Marcos Valle albums called "Marcos Valle" that it's impossible to
know which you know and which you don't know. This one is from 1970. There is
an English version of this song, translated as "Crickets Sing For
Anamaria", which appears on an earlier Marcos Valle album, but which is
vastly different in tone. It is a song that has also been done by Emma Bunton.
And she even got away with it. Imagine that!
"She's A Lover", by The Pretty Things. It's always
about The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds, Pink Floyd, The Who, The
Animals, The Small Faces. (I could go on.) But it isn't often that The Pretty
Things enter into the discourse. (When do they get their Mojo cover?) Which is a shame, because you couldn't really describe
them as of lesser worth than the others. Their trajectory appears to have been
similar: from blues rock to psychedelia to more straight-ahead
"rock". "SF Sorrow" and the "Defecting Grey" EP
may have been their high-water mark, but the following album,
"Parachute", contained no signs of tailing off. Take this song, for
example: it wouldn't have sounded that out of place on any of the later Beatles
albums, for example, would it?
"The Skies Above", by The Equals. Astounding.
Performs the seemingly impossible feat of being both heavy and effervescent. As
the album title says, "Sensational". What I wrote above about The
Pretty Things could probably also be said about The Equals, although they had
the added hurdle, in those pre-enlightened times, of being of, uh, "mixed race".
"Satori (Enlightenment)", by The Flower Travelling
Band. Tripped-out guitar-and-wailing goodness from Japan, circa 1971. You could
perhaps be inclined to refer to it as the Japanese "Pictures of Matchstick
Men". But then again, maybe not.
"Dear Prudence", by Katfish. The Beatles song,
done in a curious early seventies Laurel Canyon style, with added psychedelic
touches. Charming, actually, and the download link still seems to work. Lucky you.
"Be Thankful (For What You Got)", by Winston
Curtis. You can't have too many versions of this gem of a song. William DeVaughn
both times? Check. Massive Attack? Check. This one is done in a reggae style(e).
It is smooth as silk. The business happens at 4:15, but the journey is the thing.
"Bourgie', Bourgie'", by Gladys Knight and the
Pips. "Disco euphoria" personified. Prepare to be uplifted at the
55-second mark.
"Foxy Pup", by Nirosta Steel. There was a time
when every week (or so it seemed) a new Arthur Russell track would rise to the
surface, adding to the already complex web of discography attaching to this
elusive, unpindownable musician. Those days are long gone, now, but bits and
pieces do occasionally appear, such as this track, and a few others by Nirosta
Steel, which were released a year or two back. It doesn't add much to what we
already know, but it's Arthur Russell; it's all good. You might say "This
is just 'Let's Go Swimming' with different lyrics". You wouldn't be that
far wrong, but you would also be totally missing the point.
"Anne Cherchait L'Amour", by Jacno. This is an
icy, haunting piece of French synth-pop, from 1979. Given how hard I fell for
"I'm In Love With A German Film Star", I shudder to think what this
would have done to me had I heard it back then.
"Her Needs", by Sandra Plays Electronics. This
song has razor-sharp edges and harsh surfaces. You wouldn't want to touch it
with bare hands. Uncovered and released by Veronica Vasicka's Minimal Wave
label. Hasn't she done some sterling detective work over the last couple of
years?
"Mali Koori", by Bassekou Kouyate & Ngouni Ba.
This is as dry and windswept as the Malian desert. I could use an album of
this.
"Requiem Solution (feat. Loreen) (Prins Thomas
Remix)", by Kleerup. It's hard to listen to this and not think of the
first Air album. It may be just the bass; it may be more than that. It's a
minor chord happening.
"Painted Faces", by Jacques Greene + Tinashe. Tinashe:
"American singer-songwriter, record producer, actress, dancer, and former
model." Yes, but can she make a decent cup of tea? Jacques Greene, well, he
is a Canadian, and that's okay.
"Selfish", by The Other Two. The other two
being Gillian Gilbert and the other one, um, Stephen Morris (sorry). Did anyone
remember that they put together this New Order side project? Presumably it was
in pointed response to Bernard Sumner's Electronic. And then Hooky went rogue …
"Even When
The Water's Cold", by !!!. Now how in the heck are you supposed to
pronounce that? (Well apparently it's "chk chk chk", but in my own
mind Philip Brophy cornered the market on that pronunciation with this Australian late-70s art-punk project.) The first time I heard
this song I immediately thought I recognised something in the vocal mannerisms.
I realised I was thinking of Spoon. Curiously, I then discovered that that
band's Jim Eno (who is not the singer) produced the song. He also added piano,
such as you hear on Spoon records. The song also grows on you in that
particular way Spoon songs do. (Not that I have any intention of overdoing the
comparison.) It's on Warp, although it could just as easily have slipped out under
the DFA banner.
"Horizon
Unfolding", by Fantastikoi Hxoi. Six minutes of understated but insistent
Krautrock take us out for the month. Nationality and time period are a mystery
that is not solved merely by studying the title of the song and the name
of the band. (1970s? Albania? Wrong. Greece. 2012. But each possibility would
be as strange as the other.)
