ILM's Now For Something Completely Different... 70s Album Poll Results! Top 100 Countdown! (Part 2)

Message Bookmarked
Bookmark Removed
Not all messages are displayed: show all messages (1498 of them)

I remember getting one of those educational scholastic mags for kids in third grade, and it had a feature on Devo! Hilarious, considering some of their twisted lyrics.

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:25 (eleven years ago) link

Thought that would get more comments.

someone go search Kitchen Person is ok ;)

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:36 (eleven years ago) link

Have never heard Viva, that's something I should listen to (I love their first album).

1st album's better

Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:42 (eleven years ago) link

No it isn't

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:49 (eleven years ago) link

29. FUNKADELIC Free Your Mind...And Your Ass Will Follow (3596 Points, 26 Votes, 1 #1)
RYM: #99 for 1970, #3024 overall

http://acerecords.co.uk/images/FunkadelicFreeYourMi_1.jpg
http://open.spotify.com/album/1DqPqmHdLL1XcdJToOKMqT
spotify:album:1DqPqmHdLL1XcdJToOKMqT

This is as confusing and promising and ultimately ambiguous as the catchy (and rhythmic) title slogan. Is that ass as in "shake your ass" or ass as in "save your ass"? And does one escape/transcend the dollar by renouncing the material world or by accepting one's lot? Similarly, are the scratchy organ timbres and disorienting separations fuckups or deliberate alienation effects? Is this music to stand to or music to get wasted by? In short, is this band (this black band, I should add, since it's black people who are most victimized by antimaterialist rhetoric) promulgating escapist idealism or psychic liberation? Or do all these antinomies merely precede some aesthetic synthesis? One thing is certain--the only place that synthesis might occur here is on "Funky Dollar Bill." B- -- R. Christgau

By 1970′s Free Your Mind And Your Ass Will Follow, Funkadelic sounded as if they had absorbed some of MC5′s aggression and The Stooges’ decadent nihilism. They continued their critiques of capitalism and booty-liberation theology, but instead of the blues,Free Your Mind’s title track showcased lysergic- drenched noise, with Bernie Worrell’s slavering, distorted three- note organ riff similar to Velvet Underground’s “Sister Ray.” Funkadelic were decidedly into drugs, and the unhinged, sprawling length of “Free Your Mind” was a dead giveaway. Clinton was bemused that “They think that’s the best…I’m so embarrassed. We did that entire record in one day, mixed it and walked outta here.” Despite, or maybe because of that, it worked. -- Fastnbulbous

Funkadelic’s second album “Free Your Mind And Your Ass Will Follow” overwhelms the senses from beginning to end even though its total running time barely exceeds 30 minutes. But within that relatively small time in space, Funkadelic ran totally funk-amok in the studio creating something larger and far denser than just a half an hour’s worth of music. It was a jarring, messy and greasy aural freefall, exacerbated by leader George Clinton’s remixing of the album into a dizzying aural pendulum which roared out in the severest of stereo separation. On top of this, he heaped generous amounts of echo, reverb, tape speed manipulations and haphazard stereo panning that caused everything to rocket back and forth from speaker to speaker like a weathervane turning only to the freakiest of angles in high winds. And it always erupts out of nowhere: sometimes on just the guitar, the organ or even an entire channel’s signal and usually to engage itself in infinity symbol/figure eight patterning from speaker to speaker, shaking up your equilibrium like one of those souvenir wintertime Alpine village snowballs constantly handled during boring family visits. Only within the context of “Free Your Mind And Your Ass Will Follow” does that snowball becomes your mind, the snow all the countless fragments of music that swirl around the confines of your head and that Alpine village reveals itself as a depressed, ugly ghetto scene where no snow ever falls, where joys or hopes are rarely sighted and often blighted...Except through that little portal of transformation known as music.

Interstellar oscillations and electronic fissures crack open the album exactly like they did on The Mothers of Invention’s “We’re Only In It For The Money” freeing up the vista for the slow-forming freeform sprawl of a title track, “Free Your Mind And Your Ass Will Follow.” Guitarist Eddie Hazel slowly and distortedly burns throughout with a fuse crackling with energy until it reaches the riff of the main theme and springboards into confounding, free form improvisation. By the time the stoned groove which is the song actually ‘starts,’ you don’t really notice AND it takes over 10 minutes to finish but could go on forever perfectly. Several vocalists continually call and respond the title while their little cosmic kid brother chimes innocently back: “The kingdom of heaven is within.” LSD soul screaming commences, with a hair-raising “WooooOOOOOOOOwww!” cutting through everything as though releasing every pent up, fucked up feeling, ever. Hazel and Tawl Ross exchange scratchy and/or wah-wahed counterpoints as the track begins to rise and rise and rise. Balancing on minor chord darkness and major chord triumphs somewhere between “Sister Ray” and 1969-era Michael Ratledge, Bernie Worrell’s distorted and overdriven keyboard melody line swells as the band approach the ripped open jugular of funk honey currently oozing and koozing outward. The track opens door after door of discovery while the vocalists struggle to free themselves from their mental constraints, each confusing hurdle becoming a near-life or death struggle. The music picks up in pace and is soon shooting between left and right speakers. Keenly aware of its surroundings, Hazel once more bursts through with a furiously wah-wahed solo only to see the track fade out prematurely. But an immediate slight return re-nudges its way back out of silence, and Hazel is STILL in furious mid-flight. It fades away for a final time, almost in warning that this freakstorm is but the beginning...

“Friday Night, August 14th” is a title full of mystery (and not a little dread) although EXACTLY what happened that night in 1970 is never revealed. And whether it was a particularly strong acid trip or whatever the referred-to income tax return proceedings caused or were spent on is besides the point because they’re loose as hell and shaking off all their layers of bummers at once. The beginning sees a “Voodoo Child” (not “Chile”) vamp which soon spins into a lurching trip of Funkadelic’s own creation as the two guitars of Tawl Ross and Eddie Hazel entwine into a swirling mass of shifting slabs of electrified, pulsating SOUL dancing around all the crazy-assed, hammering echo placed upon the drumming, and plenty of swaying gospel vocals accenting. “Friday Night” is a shit-storming track deluxe and the guitar is soon wah-wah-ing itself to death into an echo-embossed mini-drum solo, reverbed uncontrollably and rebounding all over the place. Hazel cuts back with another razing solo until the track fades and somehow, somewhere...ends.

Beginning side two, “Funky Dollar Bill” continues off the same mode as the previous track: so much so it could’ve been subtitled “Saturday Morning, August 15th” if the lyrics weren’t so intent on decrying that particular root of all evil. In contrast to Ross’s fractious rhythm guitar racket, Worrell neatly inserts an bouncy, cascading lounge piano solo which throws itself up to a plateau that hovers above Hazel’s gnarled wah-wah and that nasty, motherfucking rhythm guitar. “I Wanna Know If It’s Good To You Baby” is an undulating and dripping koozedelic bump and grind, split down the middle between the vocal segment and it’s thunderous instrumental fallout. It was released cut in half just between these two segments as a single and the album version reflects the same fractured edit as though the record’s just skipped ahead 10 seconds into a freewheeling, hard and slammed jam of cascading and pummeling guitar from Hazel, distorted organ and forcefully whacked drums. By the end, Worrell’s near Manzarek-improvisations-during-the-quiet-bits-of-“When The Music’s Over” hang from the top of the track’s echo chamber like so many cavernous stalactites as Tiki Fulwood’s loud and sparse drum pattern glances forward to the sort of masterful, hypnotic bashing on Can’s 1971’s epic “Halleluwah.” Gently the track lands back down to earth as cowbells and percussion slowly diminish into silence. “Some More” is the most orthodox moment on the album when a bluesy, Jimmy Smith-type Hammond organ enters. But as soon as that low and big as a foghorn voice gets strained through the grills of a Leslie speaker with extra phlange, it sounds more like some all-pervasive, blue fog seeping out into studio as it proclaims a “new kind of pain” with a “headache in my heart/got a heartache in my head.” Then the proto-dub drum treatments return, abusively echoing them into 10 feet high towers of staggering aural trails. Curlicues of Worrell’s Hammond organ soloing walks the song home to its final snare hit at the end of the verse halts everything but the echo, which finally decays into silence some time after.

Clinton’s spoken word pronouncements of “Eulogy And Light” end the album with a bizarre and twisted pledge of allegiance from a ghetto pimp to “the great god, Big Buck” as “The Lord’s Prayer,” Psalm 23 and “My Country ‘Tis Of Thee” are referenced all at once in a twisted incantation. Completing the inversion, in the background runs a backward masking of the 1969 Funkadelic B-side, “Open Our Eyes.” Originally a reverent plea for strength and goodness in the truest sense of gospel fashion, played backwards it takes on a far more disquieting and sinister quality. One thing that doesn’t mutate is Hazel’s guitar solo: here it is now streaking backwardly crying tears of blood in the sky and sounding even more poignant than it did the right-way-‘round. Gradually things speed up and out of control during the ending segment as the voice of the once mighty narrating bad ass gets his comeuppance right between the eyes and is reduced to a high-pitched/high-speed squeaking freak out...ending an album at once angry, seductive, funny and frightening at the same time, with a vibe to burn forever.  -- The Seth Man, Head Heritage


review
[-] by Ned Raggett

It's one of the best titles in modern musical history, for song and for album, and as a call to arms mentally and physically the promise of funk was never so perfectly stated. If it were just a title then there'd be little more to say, but happily, Free Your Mind lives up to it throughout as another example of Funkadelic getting busy and taking everyone with it. The title track itself kicks things off with rumbling industrial noises and space alien sound effects, before a call-and-response chant between deep and chirpy voices brings the concept to full life. As the response voices say, "The kingdom of heaven is within!" The low and dirty groove rumbles along for ten minutes of dark fun, with Bernie Worrell turning in a great keyboard solo toward the end -- listening to it, one gets the feeling that if Can were this naturally funky, they'd end up sounding like this. From there the band makes its way through a total of six songs, ranging from the good to astoundingly great. "Funky Dollar Bill" is the other standout track from the proceedings, with a great, throw-it-down chorus and rhythm and a sharp, cutting lyric that's as good to think about as it is to sing out loud. The closing "Eulogy and Light," meanwhile, predates Prince with its backward masking and somewhat altered version of the Lord's Prayer and Psalm 23. At other points, even if the song is a little more straightforward, there's something worthwhile about it, like the random stereo panning and Eddie Hazel's insane guitar soloing on "I Wanna Know If It's Good for You," with more zoned and stoned keyboard work from Worrell to top things off. The amount of drugs going down for these sessions in particular must have been notable, but the end results make it worthy.

Track Listing:

Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow
{G Clinton, Eddie Hazel, Ray Davis} 10:00 lyrics
Friday Night, August 14th
{G Clinton, Billy Nelson, E Hazel} 5:20 lyrics
Funky Dollar Bill
{G Clinton, E Hazel, R Davis} 3:14 lyrics
I Wanna Know If It's Good to You
{G Clinton, B Nelson, E Hazel, Clarence Haskins} 5:54 lyrics
Some More
{G Clinton, Ernie Harris} 2:55 lyrics
Eulogy and Light
{E Harris} 3:29 lyrics

Personnel:

Lead Guitar: Eddie Hazel
Rhythm Guitar: Tawl Ross
Keyboards: Bernie Worrell
Drums: Tiki Fulwood
Bass: Billy Nelson
Vocals: Parliament (George Clinton, Ray Davis, Fuzzy Haskins, Grady Thomas,
Calvin Simon)

Song-Specific Personnel:

"Free Your Mind"
Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Ray Davis

"Friday Night"
Lead Vocals: Billy Nelson?

"Funky Dollar Bill"
Lead Vocals: Tawl Ross
Piano: Bernie Worrell

"I Wanna Know..."
Vocals: Billy Nelson, Eddie Hazel
Guitar: Eddie Hazel
Organ: Bernie Worrell

"Some More"
Vocals: Eddie Hazel?

"Eulogy & Light"
Vocals: George Clinton

Rating: GZ *** RC **** MM ***1/2 MV: *****

Comment:

RC: I like this album the more I hear it, but it's so short. A third of it is taken up by the annoyingly non-musical title track. The feedback gets to me here, despite some great stuff from Eddie. The rest of the album is very good, with "I Wanna Know..." and "Funky Dollar Bill" being classics. "Eulogy And Light", a rap with all the music backmasked, is one of Funkadelic's most interesting experiments. It's an urban remake of the Lord's Prayer and the 23rd Psalm. The whole album was recorded in a single day, with George saying the idea behind it was 'let's see if we can cut a whole album while we're all tripping on acid.' This album is one of the most popular amongst the new generation of Funkadelic fans, especially those who are coming into it from a hard rock/alternative bent.

"Free Your Mind..." actually has a lot of interesting things going on in it under the feedback, but I'm glad that Funkadelic's feedback experiments more-or-less ended here. "Friday Night..." is another strange track featuring more singing and some interesting echo effects. "Funky Dollar Bill" is one of the true standouts, featuring superb work from Hazel and Billy Bass. Great lyrics, too, about what we do for money. Features some remarkable freakout organ from Bernie. "I Wanna Know..." is one of Funkadelic's all-time greatest songs, featuring a mix of some of their oldest lyrics and some wicked new ones, 'your love tastes sweeter than the honey that replaced the rain since I met you.' Also has one of the greatest guitar riffs in the history of mankind. "Some More" actually features some lyrics from an old Clinton production called "Headache In My Heart", and would almost be Motown-ish if not for the production values. "Eulogy & Light" is the strange ending to the experience, with a rap over a 1969 Funkadelic tune, "Open Our Eyes", played backwards (special props to MW for that info). The result is a frightening song, especially matched with the menacing vocal. Heady acid music indeed. The words are sometimes used in concert as an intro to "Maggot Brain."

MM: Free Your Mind is entertaining. The sound quality is really bothersome, however. Also, they should have rocked on the title track, starting around 2:00. Instead, it fades into a bunch of noise (which may be the point).

MV: Free Your Mind merits more than the given three stars. In fact, it merits five stars. An excellent, organic amalgam of funk rock, LSD, feedback and primitive studio manipulation, every cut is strong and the LP certainly hangs together conceptually. A masterpiece which is in fact the group's coherent early LP, conceptually and musically.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:50 (eleven years ago) link

Wow, wasn't expecting that - it's a good album but I had no idea people liked it more than, say, Cosmic Slop or the s/t first album.

Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:53 (eleven years ago) link

Title track is a colossus tho

Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:54 (eleven years ago) link

Title track is a colossus tho

True, 'I Wanna Know If It's Good to You' is a classic as well.

Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:57 (eleven years ago) link

This is a lot of Funkadelic fans favourite album actually.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 13:58 (eleven years ago) link

That's the first Funkadelic album I bought, and probably the one I've listened to most

gentle german fatherly voice (President Keyes), Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:00 (eleven years ago) link

It's one of my friends fave too and he usually dislikes rock music and doesnt like heavy rock at all.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:03 (eleven years ago) link

ok, seeing as no-one else has said i will.

"devo : too low ! "

but as it was my #1 choice i would say that.

mark e, Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:08 (eleven years ago) link

28. THE MODERN LOVERS The Modern Lovers (3607 Points, 24 Votes)
RYM: #5 for 1976, #262 overall | Acclaimed: #193 | RS: #382 | Pitchfork: #40

http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/112/MI0002112842.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/35F6cGzcHD8C9mjOANDOQ5
spotify:album:35F6cGzcHD8C9mjOANDOQ5

These legendary sessions, produced by John Cale for Warners in the early '70s but never released, still sound ahead of their time. Jonathan Richman's gift is to make explicit that love for "the modern world" that is the truth of so much of the best rock and roll: by cutting through the vaguely protesty ambience of so-called rock culture he opens the way for a worldliness that is specific, realistic, and genuinely critical. Not that he tries to achieve this himself--he's much too childlike. Sometimes his unmusicianship adds a catch to a three-chord melody and his off-key singing unlocks doors you didn't know were there. But other times he sounds like his allowance is too big, as worldly as Holden Caulfield with no '50s for excuse--the first rock hero who could use a spanking. A -- R. Christgau

The first Modern Lovers album was cobbled together by Beserkley supremo Matthew King Kaufman from demos, the bulk of which had been produced by John Cale in 1972 when it looked as if the band would be signed to Warner Bros. Despite the fragmentary nature of its parts, The Modern Lovers is surprisingly coherent and contains all of Richman's classic creations: "Roadrunner," "Pablo Picasso," "Girl Friend," "She Cracked," etc. The stark, simple performances highlight an adenoidal New England voice that lacks everything technical but nothing emotional. One of the truly great art-rock albums of all time. -- Trouser Press

Some history is necessary. Four or five years ago, David Johansen's New York Dolls and Jonathan Richman's Boston-based Modern Lovers were the most talented progenitors of what is now known as New Wave or punk rock. Rightly or wrongly, the Dolls were quickly written off as a last gasp of the Sixties rather than a first glimpse of the Seventies, and Richman was considered to weird for any record company to support (Warner Bros. tired for a while). Now, with punk in full bloom (in the media, at least), Johansen is revving up for a comeback on Blue Sky, and Beserkeley has released three Richman albums in 18 months.

Actually, Richman's early work--his best, by far--wasn't as weird as it was uncompromising and innocent. Technically, he had one of the worst voices in rock & roll, but his songs were as straight and true as an arrow stuck in a lovesick teenager's heart. He had two great themes: the pain and wonder of adolescent romance (boy-girl, not man-woman) and the need to embrace and synthesize the moral values of both the Old and the Modern World (his terms). At his best, he was as pure and daring as Charlie Chaplin's Little Tramp, and his first band (there have been many versions of the Modern Lovers) played with an incredible sense of mood.

But being one of the godfathers of a movement apparently isn't easy. after his four songs on Berserkley Chartbusters, richman has gone from single-minded honesty (The Modern Lovers) to simple-minded childishness... -- Paul Nelson, RS

Back on the East Coast, an 18 year-old kid named Jonathan Richman was excited after hearing the Velvet Underground’s 1970 farewell album, Loaded. He use to perform unaccompanied in a park in Boston until he formed the Modern Lovers because, said Richman in an immortal quote, “I was lonely.” He also wanted to follow up his own revelation of V.U.’s lyrical terrain and manic drone, with the help of future Talking Heads keyboardist Jerry Harrison and future Cars drummer David Robinson.

Again, former Velvet Underground maestro John Cale guided another young legend by producing the first and last Modern Lovers album in 1971. Richman abandoned the aggressive worship of sex, drugs and other decadent vices in favor of a fresh romanticism of the modern world. “Roadrunner” celebrated neon road signs, convenience stores and power lines in the spirit of The Velvet Underground’s “Rock and Roll.” “Someone I Care About” replaced sexism and macho egotism with sensitivity and respect. “I’m Straight” and “She Cracked” were uniquely eloquent expressions of angst. “Pablo Picasso,” “Girlfriend” and “Government Center” displayed the playful humor that Richman would later become identified with. -- Fastnbulbous

If things had turned out just a little differently, there is every chance that we would all be saying it was The Modern Lovers that were the truly first punk rock band instead of The New York Dolls. But, it was just in the cards that this Boston band’s debut record was put off by a few years. In truth, we were lucky this classic album was released at all. The Modern Lovers were an American rock band led by Jonathan Richman in the 1970s and 1980s. The original band existed from 1970 to 1974 but their first recordings were not released until 1976. It featured Richman and bassist Ernie Brooks with drummer David Robinson (later of The Cars) and keyboardist Jerry Harrison (later of Talking Heads). The sound of the band owed a great deal to the influence of The Velvet Underground, and is now sometimes classed as “proto-punk”. It pointed the way towards much of the punk rock, new wave, alternative and indie rock music of later decades. Their only album, the eponymous The Modern Lovers, contained stylistically unprecedented songs about dating awkwardness, growing up in Massachusetts, and love of life and the USA.
Richman grew up in Natick, Massachusetts, a suburb of Boston, and began playing guitar and writing songs in his mid teens, first performing solo in public in 1967. He became enamored of the Velvet Underground while he was still in high school, and after graduating in 1969, he moved to New York City where he became personally acquainted with the band and on one occasion opened the bill for them. Richman spent a couple of weeks sleeping on Velvets’ manager Steve Sesnick’s sofa before moving into the Hotel Albert, a residence known for its poor conditions.
After nine months in New York, and a trip to Europe and Israel, Richman moved back to his native Boston. With his childhood friend and neighbor, guitarist John Felice, he organized a band modeled after the Velvets. They quickly recruited drummer David Robinson and bass player Rolfe Anderson, and christened themselves “The Modern Lovers”. They played their first date, supporting Andy Paley’s band The Sidewinders, in September 1970, barely a month after Richman’s return. By this time their setlist already included such classic Richman songs as “Roadrunner”, “She Cracked” and “Hospital”. Richman’s unique character was immediately apparent; he wore short hair and often performed wearing a jacket and tie, and frequently improvised new lyrics and monologues.

In early 1971 Anderson and Felice departed; they were replaced by Harvard students bassist Ernie Brooks, and keyboardist Jerry Harrison, completing the classic lineup of the Modern Lovers. This new configuration became very popular in the Boston area, and by the fall of 1971, enthusiastic word-of-mouth led to the Modern Lovers’ first exposure to a major label when Stuart Love of Warner Bros. Records contacted them and organized the band’s first multi-track session at Intermedia Studio in Boston. The demo produced from this session, and the group’s live performances, generated more attention from the industry, including rave reviews from critic Lillian Roxon, and soon A&M Records was interested in the band as well.

In April 1972, the Modern Lovers traveled to Los Angeles where they held two demo sessions: the first was produced by the Velvet Underground’s John Cale for Warner Bros. while the second was produced by Alan Mason for A&M. The Cale sessions were later used on the band’s debut album. While in California the band also performed live, and one gig at the Long Branch Saloon in Berkeley was later issued as a live album. Producer Kim Fowley courted the band, traveling to Boston to produce some poor-quality demos in June 1972. Felice rejoined the group for a few months after his graduation, and the band moved together to live at Cohasset, Massachusetts. The Modern Lovers continued to be a popular live attraction, and on New Year’s Eve 1972 supported the New York Dolls at the Mercer Arts Center on a bill which also included Suicide and Wayne County. Early in 1973 they were finally signed by Warner Brothers. However, before returning to the studio in Los Angeles to work with Cale, the group accepted an offer to play a residency at the Inverurie Hotel in Bermuda. While there, Richman heard and became strongly influenced by the laid-back style of the local musicians, as documented in his later song “Monologue About Bermuda”. There were also growing personality clashes between the band members.

Although on the band’s return Richman agreed to record his earlier songs, he was anxious to move in a different musical direction. He wanted to scrap all of the tracks they had recorded and start over with a mellower, more lyrical sound. The rest of the band, while not opposed to such a shift later, insisted that they record as they sounded now. However, the sessions with Cale in September 1973 also coincided with the death of their friend Gram Parsons (a former Harvard student, like Harrison and Brooks), and produced no usable recordings. The record company then recruited Kim Fowley to produce more sessions with the band, this time at Gold Star Studios, with better results. Recordings from these sessions with Fowley were later released in 1981 on an album misleadingly titled The Original Modern Lovers.

Following the failure to complete a debut album, Warner Brothers withdrew their support for the Modern Lovers, and Robinson left the band. They continued to perform live for a few months with new drummer Bob Turner, but Richman was increasingly unwilling to perform his old (although still unreleased) songs such as “Roadrunner”, and after a final disagreement between him and Harrison over musical style the band split up in February 1974. In late 1974, Richman signed as a solo artist with Matthew “King” Kaufman’s new label, “Home of the Hits”, soon to be renamed Beserkley Records, and recorded four tracks with backing by the bands Earth Quake and The Rubinoos, including new versions of both “Roadrunner” and “Government Center”. These tracks were first issued as singles and then on an album Beserkley Chartbusters Vol.1 in 1975. In 1976, with a new version of the Modern Lovers, Richman began recording what he would regard as his debut album,Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers.

However, in the meantime, Kaufman also put together the album The Modern Lovers from remixed versions of the tracks recorded four or more years previously for Warner Brothers and A&M, and released it in August 1976. “Hospital” was credited as being ‘donated by Jerry Harrison’ because he had the original 1971 session tapes. The Modern Lovers was immediately given an enthusiastic critical reception, with critic Ira Robbins hailing it as “one of the truly great art rock albums of all time”. It influenced numerous aspiring punk rock musicians on both sides of the Atlantic, including the Sex Pistols, whose early cover of “Roadrunner” was placed on The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle. In the UK, the versions of “Roadrunner” produced by Cale and Kaufman were released as two sides of a single, and became a chart hit in 1977. -- Chris Bell, Earbuddy

Bostonian Jonathan Richman had been an avid Velvet Underground fan. Hence the stripped-down sound of his first band, The Modern Lovers, whose original recording lineup featured drummer David Robinson (The Cars), keyboard player Jerry Harrison (Talking Heads), and bassist Ernie Brooks. Live appearances around Boston elicited interest from Warner Bros., who booked the band into a California studio in 1973, for sessions produced first by John Cale then Kim Fowley.

His early work voiced a beautifully contradictory world view: he embraced the "Modern World" but would not dismiss the "Old World"; was attracted to self-destructive girls ("She Cracked," "Hospital") but sang of a new romanticism in the awesome "Girlfiend" and "Someone To Care About," songs that turned their back on the Sixties sexual revolution.

Most of all he had a penchant for modern hymns -- to the macho lifestyle of painter Pablo Picasso in a song covered by Cale himself and later Bowie, and to the eternally appealing call of the road on the two-chord classic "Roadrunner," covered by a legion of garage bands since, perhaps most famously in the Sex Pistols.

Warner then dropped the band. Three years later, Beserkley released the album, scoring a hit single with "Roadrunner." But Jonathan had split the band by the time the demos were finished, and had a new career in mind: he would downsize his sound to acoustic rock 'n' roll and sing, in his nasal tone, about insects, Martians, and rocking leprechauns.-- Ignacio Julià, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die


review
[-] by Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Compiled of demos the band recorded with John Cale in 1973, The Modern Lovers is one of the great proto-punk albums of all time, capturing an angst-ridden adolescent geekiness which is married to a stripped-down, minimalistic rock & roll derived from the art punk of the Velvet Underground. While the sound is in debt to the primal three-chord pounding of early Velvet Underground, the attitude of Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers is a million miles away from Lou Reed's jaded urban nightmares. As he says in the classic two-chord anthem "Roadrunner," Richman is in love with the modern world and rock & roll. He's still a teenager at heart, which means he's not only in love with girls he can't have, but also radios, suburbs, and fast food, and it also means he'll crack jokes like "Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole...not like you." "Pablo Picasso" is the classic sneer, but "She Cracked" and "I'm Straight" are just as nasty, made all the more edgy by the Modern Lovers' amateurish, minimalist drive. But beneath his adolescent posturing, Richman is also nakedly emotional, pleading for a lover on "Someone I Care About" and "Girl Friend," or romanticizing the future on "Dignified and Old." That combination of musical simplicity, driving rock & roll, and gawky emotional confessions makes The Modern Lovers one of the most startling proto-punk records -- it strips rock & roll to its core and establishes the rock tradition of the geeky, awkward social outcast venting his frustrations. More importantly, the music is just as raw and exciting now as when it was recorded in 1973, or when it was belatedly released in 1976.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:16 (eleven years ago) link

Devo was another top 20.pick for me. Yay!

Drugs A. Money, Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:37 (eleven years ago) link

The Modern Lovers is one of those rare records that evokes the sensation of love at first sight. it's like a revelation: "i needed this in my life".

charlie h, Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:43 (eleven years ago) link

Horses & Fly were my #s 4 &5 respectively, lol @ the idea that voting for the latter is an "affirmative action" thing

beau 'daedaly (wins), Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:46 (eleven years ago) link

I remember spending lots of time staring at the Modern Lovers cover and deciding not to buy it because I was apprehensive about the geeky venting :-/

and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:50 (eleven years ago) link

MAJOR SHOCK ALERT

If you expected that to be top 10 then this next one is going to shock you as I thought it would be a contender for #1. Esp after a track from this album did so well in balls/viceroys poll.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:54 (eleven years ago) link

That's not so laughable. I'd bet it all that if Fly wasn't by Ono it wouldn't have placed.

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:00 (eleven years ago) link

27. NEU! Neu! (3637 Points, 28 Votes)
RYM: #19 for 1972, #498 overall | Acclaimed: #533 | Pitchfork: #25

http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/694/MI0001694731.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/1PhLOl4w7st8CYuQbdNHHd
spotify:album:1PhLOl4w7st8CYuQbdNHHd

Dinger and Rother's relationship was a famously fraught one. The pair had differing creative visions and starkly contrasting personalities. Rother was more aligned with the gentler side of '60s/'70s counterculture, his feel for melody and ambience symptomatic of a more harmonious worldview. Dinger, on the other hand, had an anarchic streak that resonated with the more confrontational aspects of the counterculture. This tension surfaces in NEU!'s music, which often swerves between soft and hard sounds, tunefulness and cacophony, sometimes combining both tendencies within the same track. Plank played a key role, mediating between the two musicians, showing them what was possible and guiding them toward syntheses of seemingly incompatible ideas. Reflecting the oppositional, anti- capitalist mood of the time, the band's name — which ironically evokes the language of advertising: NEW! — is a statement of intent. Dinger and Rother were keen to dispense with the received wisdom about how rock music should be made and sound. Although Rother had initially emulated guitarists like Clapton, Harrison and Hendrix, his attitude was punkavant la lettre: he adopted a "year zero" stance, kicked over the statues and sought to develop his own musical identity. In a similarly proto-punk fashion, Dinger espoused a Situationist sensibility, displaying a neo-Dadaist spirit akin to contemporaries Faust and approaching music-making as a spontaneous process, open to the potentially chaotic and the random nature of the moment. This intermingling of artistic practice and the fabric of the everyday, which lay at the heart of Situationism, came across particularly in NEU!'s fragmented, jarring and anarchic tracks, as they incorporated everything from traditional rock instrumentation to drills, cutting, pasting and recycling elements of their own music as they went. Dinger also brought this aesthetic to bear on the band's artwork, anticipating the work of Situationist-inspired designers like Jamie Reid during the punk era. Unlike the sort of elaborate album covers that probably took a month to develop, Dinger's cut-and-paste montage sleeves looked as if they had been assembled in minutes with the aid of a typewriter, some sticky-tape and a photocopier. The scrawled track lists and liner notes onNEU! appear to be the work of a doctor; Dinger and Rother feature only in tacked-on, low-quality black-and-white photos (passport- booth snaps on NEU! 2); and, on all three records, the band's name might have been daubed on the jacket by a passing vandal (with his accomplice spray-painting the number 2 over the logo on the second album to distinguish it from the first). -- Trouser Press

It's quite obvious why the duo split away from Kraftwerk and, as evidence of this, the Neu! debut was very different to what Kraftwerk went on to do. Neu! invented a whole new sound, metronomic, intensive, both experimental and catchy with the accent on strong melodic content. The album's opener "Hallogallo" has been the source of inspiration for many, whereas the extraordinary "Negativland" is one of the ultimate masterpieces of Krautrock. With Rother's multi-layered, fuzzed, wailing and shrieking guitars, spurred on by Dinger's metronomic drums and abstract percussives, Neu! truly lived up to their name. -- Cosmic Egg


review
[-] by Thom Jurek

Fresh after leaving Kraftwerk in the fall of 1971 for what they perceived to be a lack of vision, guitarist Michael Rother and drummer Klaus Dinger formed their own unit and changed the face of German rock forever -- eventually influencing their former employer, Florian Schneider of Kraftwerk. The 1974 album Autobahn was a genteel reconsideration of the music played here. Neu! created a sound that was literally made for cruising in an automobile. While here in the States people were flipping out over "Radar Love" by Golden Earring, if they'd known about this first Neu! disc, they would never have bothered. Dinger's mechanical, cut time drumming and Rother's two-note bass runs adorned with cleverly manipulated and dreamy guitar riffs and fills were the hallmarks of the "motorik" sound that would become the band's trademark. On "Hallogallo", which opens the disc, the listener encounters a timeless rock & roll sound world. The driving guitar playing one chord in different cadences and rhythmic patters, the four-snare to the floor pulse with a high hat and bass drum for ballast, and a bassline that is used more for keeping the drummer on time than as a rhythm instrument in its own right. These are draped in Rother's liquidy, cascading single note drones and runs, so even as the tune's momentum propels the listener into a movement oriented robotic dance, the guitar's lyrical economy brings an aesthetic beauty into the mix that opens the space up from inside. The tense ambient soundscape of "Sonderangebot" balances things a bit before the slower-than-Neil Young "Weissensee" opens with a subtle industrial clamor and opens up into a lyrical exploration of distorted slide guitar aesthetics with an uncharacteristic drum elegance that keeps the guitar in check. "Im Glück" tracks a restrained, droning path through the textural palette of the guitar, treated with whispering distortion and echo. All hell breaks loose again on Dinger's "Negativland" as an industrial soundscape eventually gives way to a bass and guitar squall as darkly enticing as anything on Joy Division's Unknown Pleasures. It's really obvious now how the JD's sound was influenced by this simply and darkly delicious brew of noise, bass throb, percussive hypnosis, and an oddly placed, strangely under-mixed, guitar. Rother's style had as much to do with not playing as it did with virtuosity, and his fills of open chords, stuttered cadences, and broken syntax provided a much needed diversion for the metronymic regularity of the rhythm section. Rother didn't riff; he painted a mix with whatever was necessary to get the point across. His mannerisms here are not to draw attention to himself, but rather to that numbing, incessant rhythm provided wondrously by Dinger. Neu!'s debut album was driving music for the apocalypse in 1971. These official CD reissues, remastered by Neu! with Herbert Gronmeyer, are the first official ones. Their sound is phenomenal and the strange dropouts and fades are intentional. They are worthy packages. Oddly enough, after a millennial change and a constant stream of samples being taken from it, and its influence saturating both the rock and electronica scenes, it still sounds ahead of its time.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:02 (eleven years ago) link

Is it shocking? I love Neu! but their debut, as an album, isn't quite consistent enough to be best-of-all time level. This placing seems more than fair!

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:08 (eleven years ago) link

I guess if rolf harris or someone had made fly I might not have voted for it, true, but in this particular version of reality it is by yoko & is awesome so

beau 'daedaly (wins), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:10 (eleven years ago) link

xp yeah I expect 75 to be top 10 for sure

beau 'daedaly (wins), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:11 (eleven years ago) link

Unexpected result of this poll: tooootal deja vu reading these reviews. I feel like I've read them all multiple times, and tbh I probably have! I spent hours and hours at work with only the AMG to keep me company.

and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:12 (eleven years ago) link

Neu! are classic vote-split candidates given that all three 70s records are fantastic and could be placed in any order on any given ballot.

Neil S, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:12 (eleven years ago) link

Did you read those Rolling Stone reviews the first time around? I wouldn't peg you as that old!

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:14 (eleven years ago) link

No, the AMG ones -- I'm not THAT old.

and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:16 (eleven years ago) link

mention of unknown pleasures in the neu! review reminds me that that hasn't placed yet. ilx likes joy division right?

beau 'daedaly (wins), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:18 (eleven years ago) link

(Sometimes I would read old issues of RS when I was at the library, but I doubt any of that sunk in.)

and that sounds like a gong-concert (La Lechera), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:19 (eleven years ago) link

Horses & Fly were my #s 4 &5 respectively, lol @ the idea that voting for the latter is an "affirmative action" thing

― beau 'daedaly (wins), Thursday, 28 March 2013 14:46 (32 minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

I want an album called "Horses and Fly" !

Even if it's by Mxxmfxrd xnd Sxns...

Mark G, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:20 (eleven years ago) link

26. FUNKADELIC Standing On The Verge Of Getting It On (3639 Points, 23 Votes)
RYM: #34 for 1974, #1193 overall

http://hilobrow.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/frontgvgoin_front_transformer5.jpg
http://open.spotify.com/album/5bTN2jvYpoJW03IRIk4kuS
spotify:album:5bTN2jvYpoJW03IRIk4kuS

Although too often it lives up to its title, this is the solidest record this restless group has ever made (under its own name--cf. Parliament) and offers such goodies as Alvin Chipmunk saying "gross mutherfucker" and a stanza that takes on both Iggy Stooge and Frank Zappa with its tongue tied. It also offers this Inspirational Homily: "Good thoughts bring forth good fruit. Bullshit thoughts rot your needs. Think right and you can fly." B+ -- R. Christgau

Music does not always have to convey a profound and important message. Music, at times, works better with a sense of humor or just plain fun. Very few artists rival the ability to make music fun than George Clinton and his associated funk bands. Funk, in essence, is all about sleazy sexiness, started by none other than James Brown. Later in the 1970s, George Clinton, while running both powerhouses Parliament and Funkadelic, rose to the top of the funk scene, becoming inspiration for later artists such as the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Prince. Standing on the Verge of Getting It On is certainly one of Clinton’s albums dedicated to having fun rather than conveying his comments on society shown in albums like Maggot Brain.

While George Clinton is the head of Funkadelic, he is certainly not the standout musician or vocalist. He simply adds atmosphere and creates the funky orchestration, but the instrumentalists really make the grooves happen. Eddie Hazel, quite possibly the greatest funk guitarist of all time, stands out with his incredibly tasteful and virtuosic lead guitar lines. He takes stage as a prominent voice in the band melodically in just about every song while other guitarists accompany him. However, funk would be nothing without the bassline, and Boogie Mosson creates just the right bassline. He jumps all over the fretboard in an incredibly smooth manner, knowing when to play out and when to simply lay down an undercurrent. Along with the various percussionists, this instrument section may be the most locked-in rhythm section of Funkadelic history. Most songs on this album pulsate forward at faster tempos with some of the best riffs Funkadelic has ever busted out. However, most of these songs lack variety, sticking to one main riff and continuing throughout the song. Luckily, unlike most Clinton efforts, the songs are a normal 2-4 minute range. 

The messages on the album are quite simple with each song. The first 4 songs on the album are all about women. An entire range of emotions comes through, including Sexy Wayswhich is all about coaxing a woman to sleep with the singer (That singer being Garry Shider).Sexy Ways, musically, is one of the most fun songs on the album, with some of the best funk grooving going on in the rhythm section. Alice in My Fantasies is just the opposite, lyrically. The song tells of a woman who wants to sleep with the vocalist (George Clinton), but Clinton refuses her. Musically, the song is even more aggressive than Sexy Ways, sounding a bit more rock oriented than funk oriented. Hendrix influence is extremely obvious.I’ll Stay makes the variety musically--"a slow R&B groove. The song features piano comping while Hazel screams overtop of the rest of the band. 

The second half of the album steps out into different territory. In today’s world, people would sue Funkadelic for releasing a song like Jimmy’s Got A Little Bit of Bi*ch in Him. The song speaks of a friend that is gay. The vocals take The Parliaments and Garry Shider and they sing together, poking fun at Jimmy. Eddie Hazel plays along with the melody in an extremely bluesy tone. The drums and bass drive the song along, propelling the energy constantly forward. The song also makes references to erectile dysfunction with lines like “So why frown? Even the sun go down!” However, the album does not go without its important message, sent out in the closing song Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts. The song starts out sounding like another Maggot Brain. The song, musically, is just 12 minutes of guitar. However, spoken word conveys a message of empowerment and achievement throughout the song. While the lyrics are certainly uplifting, 12 minutes is just too much, making this the worst song on the album. Furthermore, it destroys the entire tone of the album. 

It’s unfortunate that the album closes on such a disappointing note. For the most part, the album is incredibly groovy and fun. However, as the rest of the songs are quite short albeitI’ll Stay, no song is really that memorable, giving me the final rating of 3. As an album, its great and maybe even excellent, but it lacks the standout classics of so many other Funkadelic albums. It sounds like one huge blend of stereotypical Funkadelic funk, which is not at all a bad thing. -- Tyler Fisher, Sputnik


review
[-] by Ned Raggett

Expanding back out to a more all-over-the-place lineup -- about 15 or so people this time out -- Funkadelic got a bit more back on track with Standing on the Verge. Admittedly, George Clinton repeats a trick from America Eats Its Young via another re-recording of an Osmium track, namely leadoff cut "Red Hot Mama." However, starting as it does with a hilarious double soliloquy (with the first voice sounding like the happier brother of Sir Nose d'Voidoffunk) and coming across with a fierce new take, it's a good omen for Standing on the Verge as a whole. Eddie Hazel's guitar work in particular is just plain bad-ass; after his absence from Cosmic Slop, it's good to hear him fully back in action with Bernie Worrell, Cordell Mosson, Gary Shider, and the rest. In general, compared to the sometimes too polite Cosmic Slop, Standing on the Verge is a full-bodied, crazy mess in the best possible way, with heavy funk jams that still smoke today while making a lot of supposedly loud and dangerous rock sound anemic. Check out "Alice in My Fantasies" if a good example is needed -- the whole thing is psychotic from the get-go, with vocals as much on the edge as the music -- or the wacky, wonderful title track. There are quieter moments as well, but this time around with a little more bite to them, like the woozy slow jam of "I'll Stay," which trips out along the edges just enough while the song makes its steady way along. In an unlikely but effective turn, meanwhile, "Jimmy's Got a Little Bit of Bitch in Him" is a friendly, humorous song about a gay friend; given the rote homophobia of so much later hip-hop, it's good to hear some founding fathers have a more open-minded view.

Track Listing:

Red Hot Mama
{B Worrell, G Clinton, E Hazel} 4:54 lyrics
Alice In My Fantasies
{G Clinton, Grace Cook} 2:26 lyrics
I'll Stay
{G Clinton, G Cook} 7:16 lyrics
Sexy Ways
{G Clinton, G Cook} 3:05 lyrics
Standing On The Verge Of Getting It On
{G Clinton, G Cook} 5:07 lyrics
Jimmy's Got A Little Bit Of Bitch In Him
{G Clinton, G Cook} 2:30 lyrics
Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts
{G Clinton, G Cook} 12:17 lyrics

Personnel:

Spaced Viking; Keyboards & Vocals: Bernard (Bernie) Worrell
Tenor Vocals, Congas and Suave Personality: Calvin Simon
A Prototype Werewolf; Berserker Octave Vocals: Clarence 'Fuzzy' Haskins
World's Only Black Leprechaun; Bass & Vocals: Cordell 'Boogie' Mosson
Maggoteer Lead/Solo Guitar & Vocals: Eddie 'Smedley Smorganoff' Hazel
Rhythm/Lead Guitar, Doowop Vocals, Sinister Grin: Gary Shider
Supreme Maggot Minister of Funkadelia; Vocals, Maniac Froth and Spit;
Behaviour Illegal In Several States: George Clinton
Percussion & Vocals; Equipped with stereo armpits: Ramon 'Tiki' Fulwood
Rhythm/Lead Guitar; polyester soul-powered token white devil: Ron Bykowski
Registered and Licensced Genie; Vocals: 'Shady' Grady Thomas
Subterranean Bass Vocals, Supercool and Stinky Fingers: Ray (Stingray) Davis

Additional Personnel:

Drums: Gary Bronson
Bass: Jimmy Calhoun
Piano: Leon Patillo
Percussion: Ty Lampkin


Song-Specific Personnel:

"Red Hot Mama"
Lead Vocals: George Clinton, Eddie Hazel
Guitars: Eddie Hazel, Ron Bykowski

"Alice In My Fantasies"
Lead Vocals: George Clinton

"Sexy Ways"
Lead Vocals: Garry Shider

"Standing On the Verge..."
Lead Vocals: Parliament, Gary Shider
Guitar: Eddie Hazel, Ron Bykowski

"Jimmy's Got A Little..."
Lead Vocals: George Clinton

"Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts"
Lead Vocals: George Clinton

Rating: GZ **** RC ***** MM *****

Comment:

RC: To be blunt, this album kicks ass from the get-go. The album forgets about meaningful lyrics (til the end) and concentrates on shakin' it. Perhaps the most consistent Funkadelic album, from beginning to end. The stylistic jumps that Funkadelic likes to make are less jarring on this album, with a much smoother flow from song to song.

It starts with a classic hard-rocker in "Red Hot Mama", yet another redone Parliament song. Superb guitar interplay and evocative lyrics make this one of their best songs. A slight shift over to a metal sound (in an MC5 sort of way, of course) is made with "Alice In My Fantasies", an Eddie workout where he plays these excellent swooping guitar licks.

After beating you senseless with the first two songs, it slows down with a remake of the Parliaments' "I'll Wait" called "I'll Stay." Sexy, sleazy, smooth and irresistable, with some great singing. A slight shift is made to the funky soul of "Sexy Ways", with a JB's-style guitar lick propelling the whole thing.

Then comes what I think is the ultimate Funkadelic song, "Standing On The Verge...", which combines hard rock with JB's funk, producing a stew that commands you to dance. Inspired by audience chants, it has a live feel to it but with a great deal of precision at the same time. It also features a number of different singers.

After that peak, the album explores some interesting areas. "Jimmy's Got A Little..." is a bizarre, almost Zappa-esque song about Jimmy and his sexual preferences. It concludes with a long Eddie instrumental and a 'sermon' in "Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts." 'Good thoughts bring forth good fruit/Bullshit thoughts rot your meat.' Grace Cook, the cowriter on most cuts, is Eddie Hazel's mother. He credited her either to ensure that she would get some record royalties, or to avoid his creditors. I've heard both.

MM: Standing... is excellent. Has similarities to Maggot Brain in that it moves from rock and soul and in between. It also maintains the big Eddie Hazel influence that Maggot Brain had.

MV: Standing on The Verge of Getting It On is an absolutely essential five star album. Next to Hendrix' Band of Gypsys, it is possibly the greatest black rock LP to date. Contains superlative songwriting by lead guitarist Eddie Hazel (this LP was his shining moment & he cowrote every cut) and great lyrical concepts. Contains many Funkadelic classics which the band still performs in concert to this day.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:21 (eleven years ago) link

ilx prefers new order to joy division sadly

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:22 (eleven years ago) link

"It's a gross motherfucker!"

xp Heh. I was bad, I ripped out a bunch of select reviews from my h.s.'s Rolling Stones mags, particularly those post-punk reviews of Gang Of Four, Wire, etc.

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:22 (eleven years ago) link

My fave Funkadelic album tbh

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:33 (eleven years ago) link

Its the most Eddie Hazel album.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:33 (eleven years ago) link

or should I say "Grace Cook"

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:33 (eleven years ago) link

Wishing I'd dug this out and typed out some excerpts:

http://images.tcj.com/2011/12/Mbooty4front1989-650x901.jpg

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:35 (eleven years ago) link

Personnel:

Spaced Viking; Keyboards & Vocals: Bernard (Bernie) Worrell
Tenor Vocals, Congas and Suave Personality: Calvin Simon
A Prototype Werewolf; Berserker Octave Vocals: Clarence 'Fuzzy' Haskins
World's Only Black Leprechaun; Bass & Vocals: Cordell 'Boogie' Mosson
Maggoteer Lead/Solo Guitar & Vocals: Eddie 'Smedley Smorganoff' Hazel
Rhythm/Lead Guitar, Doowop Vocals, Sinister Grin: Gary Shider
Supreme Maggot Minister of Funkadelia; Vocals, Maniac Froth and Spit;
Behaviour Illegal In Several States: George Clinton
Percussion & Vocals; Equipped with stereo armpits: Ramon 'Tiki' Fulwood
Rhythm/Lead Guitar; polyester soul-powered token white devil: Ron Bykowski
Registered and Licensced Genie; Vocals: 'Shady' Grady Thomas
Subterranean Bass Vocals, Supercool and Stinky Fingers: Ray (Stingray) Davis

Best band details on an inner sleeve ever

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:37 (eleven years ago) link

That issue, from Summer 1989, is what got me deep into Funkadelic. Perfect timing, the Westbound CD reissues just started coming out, and I spent all my spare money on 'em.

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:38 (eleven years ago) link

That could be a poll in itself

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:38 (eleven years ago) link

http://images.tcj.com/2011/12/MB-3-650x841.jpg

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:39 (eleven years ago) link

And the next album placing high unwittingly caused by hellhouse no doubt by voters determined to spite him!

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:40 (eleven years ago) link

My fave Funkadelic album tbh

Ditto. Though in some ways it's weird because a third of the running time is taken up with an utterly shameless retread of "Maggot Brain" (not that it isn't great anyway)

Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:40 (eleven years ago) link

25. CHROME Half Machine Lip Moves (3668 Points, 29 Votes)
RYM: #38 for 1979, #2007 overall

http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0003/246/MI0003246681.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/0MinkKLxOwm97glvftpSO9
spotify:album:0MinkKLxOwm97glvftpSO9

A mighty industrial metal scraping noize devolves into a 1973 Stooges riff that sounds like it was recorded in a tin shack in 1957, cheapo drums start crashing away like The Trashmen. The only lyric you can make out is the sneered "I dunno whyyy!" at the end of every line. After 90 seconds a Faust-like dissolve through grinding, chattering zounds, creepy moog organ, analog tapes running backwards and flipping off the spindles . . . . the noise slowly fades as a chugging metal riff builds and BUILDS -- with acid lead guitar flourishes and a tambourine accompaniment! The jam that follows exists somewhere between NEU! and Judas Priest. Another abrubt edit, bells & scraping, then a new trashcan beat with hyper-distorted barely audible vocals buzzing like a bee and whining like a dog. An occasional spiral circus guitar riff, miscellaneous clanking and feedback. The beat changes again into yet another funky robot trashcan groove, with new squelchy guitar interjections, still many miscellaneous strands of noise burbling in & out of the brew whenever it feels right. The vocalist is actually singing words now, strangled drunken mumbling that makes the "recorded in a dumpster behind the Qwickie-Mart" sound of the Beastie Boys most fuzzed-out vocals sound crystal clear.

You've just made it through the first two tracks of Half Machine Lip Moves, entitled "TV As Eyes" (one of the best song titles ever I must say) and "Zombie Warfare". Welcome to the unique soundworld that is Chrome!

I can't imagine what people thought of this deeply mysterious band from San Francisco in the late 1970's, to the extent very many people were aware of them at all at the time (or even today.) But there are some artists who come along and are clearly "from another time" -- not necessarily "the future" but just "not from now", and though there is a "futuristic" vibe going on here I wouldn't say anyone else has copped the Chrome sound these past 25 years, nor ever will again in the future. I think one of the key things that makes them so unique is that they came along right at the end of the analog era, and in some sense took the analog audio tomfoolery of your VU's, Fausts and Zappas to the furthest extreme it would go. Then everyone went digital, so the kinds of blurry swiping tape-manipulated zounds found here are virtually unduplicatable today (unless one were to use the old analog equipment, but even then good luck figuring out what's going on here or how to recreate all thoze noizes!)

But equally important, they don't just fuck around with the tapes, they RAWK! Helios Creed lays down badass heavy metal rhythm guitar riffs and berzerker psychedelic leads (often backwards and/or played at the wrong speed.) Damon Edge's drumming is a perfect balance between kraut-motorik-funky and crazy-drunk-garage-band. 

So the vibe created is definitely very Sci-Fi, but no gleaming clean surfaces from Beyond The Year 2000 here. It's a bit like in the original "Alien" movie (also from 1979 coincidentally), where the technology is "advanced" but the space ships are dank & dirty and all the equipment keeps breaking down. Science will not only bring forth smiling nuclear families with robot maids flying around in hover cars, but also ever-more-crowded metropolitan slums and squalor and new designer chemicals to help stave off (or feed?) dread and paranoia. To borrow a term coined nearly a decade later, Chrome's is a "CYBER-PUNK" vision of the future.

And could a band possibly be more "underground"? You can't hardly make out a single word on the whole record. The tracks all blur together, and many of the "songs" are really just a series of random riffs and interludes spliced together. Someone is even credited with "data memory" in the musicians list, presumably a purely technical function like turning the tape machine on and off and manipulating it's speed. We may never know.

Chrome had released two LP's before this one, the ultrarare "The Visitation" (1977) where they don't quite have their sound together (Creed wasn't aboard yet) and "Alien Soundtracks" (1978) which is also a classic though to me sounds like a warm-up for the dense majesty and mystery of "Half Machine Lip Moves." The Edge-Creed team made several more obscure records through the early 1980's, eventually embracing drum machines, more intelligible lyrics and a generally less outlandish sound (sort of goth-industrial-dance rock with a hint of metal -- but still definitely mysterious and "underground.")

One of my Personal Top 25 albums of all time, this is certainly one of those records you can keep returning to and find new things buried in all those layers of ZOUND. 

All but one of the tracks from this album ("Critical Mass") are included on Cleopatra's excellent "Chrome Box" 3CD set which covers the years 1978 - 1983. -- Dog 3000, Head Heritage


review
[-] by Ned Raggett

With Lambdin out and Spain barely there at all, everything rapidly became an Edge/Creed show in the realm of Chrome by the time of Half Machine Lip Moves. The basic tropes having been established -- aggressive but cryptic performance and production, jump cuts between and in songs, judicious use of sampling and production craziness, and an overall air of looming science fiction apocalypse and doom -- all Edge and Creed had to do was perfect it. Starting with the fragmented assault of "TV as Eyes," which rapidly descends into heavily treated, conversational snippets from TV and deep, droning keyboards, Half Machine sounds like a weird broadcast from thousands of miles away where rock is treated as an exotic musical form. Creed fully gets to shine here, his pitched-up/pitched-down guitars as good an example of psychedelic assault as anything. Sprawled all over the beeps and murmurs of the songs, not to mention Edge's still self-created drumming and Iggy-ish vocal interjections, the guitars make everything sound utterly disturbed. If not as obsessed with tempo shifts and oddity as, say, Faust, Half Machine is still pretty close to that band's level of Krautrock playfulness and explosion. Two of the relative saner numbers are practically power pop, at least in Chrome terms. "March of the Chrome Police (A Cold Clamey Bombing)" has Edge sneering an actual vocal hook over a brisk beat, even while Creed gets progressively more fried on the guitar, and rumbling echoed laughter and barks erupt in the mix. "You've Been Duplicated," meanwhile, also has something of a vocal hook, only buried under so many levels of distortion that it might as well be a malfunctioning keyboard being played among the clattering percussion and other sounds. A suitably strange cover shot of a fully head-bandaged mannequin seemingly floating in space completes the package.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:43 (eleven years ago) link

Right, "Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts." The Sputnik review says it's over 12 minutes, but my version is 9:24. The remastered CD has "Vital Juices" and a single version of "Standing on the Verge...". I was pissed that I had to buy 'em all over again. Luckily I got a bunch of them cheap when Tower was closing down.

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:46 (eleven years ago) link

I look forward to reading EIII and hellhouse on this album beating Alien Soundtracks

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:47 (eleven years ago) link

my version is 9:24

What?!?!?

Step not on a loose unforgiving stone on a pyramid to paradise (Tom D.), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:49 (eleven years ago) link

Looks like version available on itunes is 9:24 for some reason

gentle german fatherly voice (President Keyes), Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:54 (eleven years ago) link

Did they edit it down on the remaster?

Fastnbulbous, Thursday, 28 March 2013 15:58 (eleven years ago) link

24. DAVID BOWIE The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (3724 Points, 27 Votes)
RYM: #1 for 1972, #11 overall | Acclaimed: #16 | RS: #35 | Pitchfork: #81

http://photolancaster.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/1972-the-rise-and-fall-of-ziggy-stardust-and-the-spiders-from-mars-front.jpg
http://open.spotify.com/album/0745mDdMqet9J5nO5x7IQS
spotify:album:0745mDdMqet9J5nO5x7IQS
http://www.superseventies.com/oaaa/oaaa_bowiedavid.jpg

In its own way, this is audacious stuff right down to the stubborn wispiness of its sound, and Bowie's actorly intonations add humor and shades of meaning to the words. Which are often witty and rarely precious, offering an unusually candid and detailed vantage on the rock star's world. Admittedly, for a long time I wondered who cared, besides lost kids for whom such access feels like privilege. The answer is, someone like Bowie--a middlebrow fascinated by the power of a highbrow-lowbrow form. B+ -- R. Christgau

Bowie began his fey alien role-playing in earnest on Ziggy Stardust, a classic rock'n'roll album. He introduces this new persona via the pseudo-biographical title track; otherwise, songs paint a weird portrait of an androgynous (but sexy) world ahead. Armed with supercharged guitar rock and truly artistic production (Bowie and Ken Scott), and mixing rock'n'roll stardom imagery with a more general Clockwork Orange outlook, the peerless set (including "Suffragette City," "Hang on to Yourself," "Rock'n'Roll Suicide" and "Moonage Daydream") outlines some of the concerns that underpinned a lot of rock songwriting in the '70s and '80s. (The Ryko reissue — also available in a deluxe edition with a slipcase and book of liner notes — adds demos of the title track and "Lady Stardust," the otherwise unreleased "Sweet Head," a '71 B-side, "Velvet Goldmine," and a remix of the 1972 single "John, I'm Only Dancing." EMI's 2002 deluxe edition includes all of the Ryko bonuses on a second disc, along with three of the four bonus tracks from the Ryko edition of The Man Who Sold the World, covers of Chuck Berry's "Round and Round" and the Jacques Brel / Mort Shuman song "Port of Amsterdam" — which had previously been issued as a bonus on the Ryko edition of Pin Ups — and a 1998 remix of "Moonage Daydream" done for a TV commercial.) -- Trouser Press

Upon the release of David Bowie's most thematically ambitious, musically coherent album to date, the record in which he unites the major strengths of his previous work and comfortably reconciles himself to some apparently inevitable problems, we should all say a brief prayer that his fortunes are not made to rise and fall with the fate of the "drag-rock" syndrome -- that thing that's manifesting itself in the self-conscious quest for decadence which is all the rage at the moment in trendy Hollywood, in the more contrived area of Alice Cooper's presentation, and, way down in the pits, in such grotesqueries as Queen, St. Nicholas' trio of feathered, sequined Barbie dolls. And which is bound to get worse.

For although Lady Stardust himself has probably had more to do with androgony's current fashionableness in rock than any other individual, he has never made his sexuality anything more than a completely natural and integral part of his public self, refusing to lower it to the level of gimmick but never excluding it from his image and craft. To do either would involve an artistically fatal degree of compromise.

Which is not to say that he hasn't had a great time with it. Flamboyance and outrageousness are inseparable from that campy image of is, both in the Bacall and Garbo stages and in his new butch, street-crawler appearance that has him looking like something out of the darker pages of City of Night. It's all tied up with the one aspect of David Bowie that sets him apart from both the exploiters of transvestitism and writers/performers of comparable talent -- his theatricality.
The news here is that he's managed to get that sensibility down on vinyl, not with an attempt at pseudo-visualism (which, as Mr. Cooper has shown, just doesn't cut it), but through employment of broadly mannered styles and deliveries, a boggling variety of vocal nuances that provide the program with the necessary depth, a verbal acumen that is now more economic and no longer clouded by storms of psychotic, frenzied music, and, finally, a thorough command of the elements of rock & roll. It emerges as a series of concise vignettes designed strictly for the ear.

Side two is the soul of the album, a kind of psychological equivalent of Lola vs. Powerman that delves deep into a matter close to David's heart: What's it all about to be a rock & roll star? It begins with a slow, fluid "Lady Stardust," a song in which currents of frustration and triumph merge in an overriding desolation. For though "He was alright, the band was altogether" (sic), still "People stared at the makeup on his face/Laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace." The pervading bittersweet melancholy that wells out of the contradictions and that Bowie beautifully captures with one of the album's more direct vocals conjures the picture of a painted harlequin under the spotlight of a deserted theater in the darkest hour of the night.

"Star" springs along handsomely as he confidently tells us that "I could make it all worthwhile as a rock & roll star." Here Bowie outlines the dazzling side of the coin: "So inviting -- so enticing to play the part." His singing is a delight, full of mocking intonations and backed way down in the mix with excessive, marvelously designed "Ooooohh la la la"'s and such that are both a joy to listen to and part of the parodic undercurrent that runs through the entire album.

"Hang on to Yourself" is both a kind warning and an irresistible erotic rocker (especially the hand-clapping chorus), and apparently Bowie has decided that since he just can't avoid craming too many syllables into is lines, he'll simply master the rapid-fire, tongue-twisting phrasing that his failing requires. "Ziggy Stardust" has a faint ring of The Man Who Sold the World to it -- stately, measured, fuzzily electric. A tale of intra-group jealousies, it features some of Bowie's more adventuresome imagery, some of which is really the nazz: "So we bitched about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands?"

David Bowie's supreme moment as a rock & roller is "Suffragette City," a relentless, spirited Velvet Underground -- styled rushing of chomping guitars. When that second layer of guitar roars in on the second verse you're bound to be a goner, and that priceless little break at the end -- a sudden cut to silence from a mighty crescendo, Bowie's voice oozing out as a brittle, charged "Oooohh Wham Bam Thank You Ma'am!" followed hard by two raspy guitar bursts that suck you back in to the surging meat of the chorus -- will surely make your turn do somersaults. And as for our Star, well, now "There's only room for one and here she comes, here she comes."

But the price of playing the part must be paid, and we're precipitously tumbled into the quietly terrifying despair of "Rock & Roll Suicide." The broken singer drones: "Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth/Then you pull on your finger, then another finger, then your cigarette." But there is a way out of the bleakness, and it's realized with Bowie's Lennon-like scream: "You're not alone, gimme your hands/You're wonderful, gimme your hands." It rolls on to a tumultuous, impassioned climax, and though the mood isn't exactly sunny, a desperate, possessed optimism asserts itself as genuine, and a new point from which to climb is firmly established.

Side one is certainly less challenging, but no less enjoyable from a musical standpoint. Bowie's favorite themes -- Mortality ("Five Years," "Soul Love"), the necessity of reconciling oneself to Pain (those two and "It Ain't Easy"), the New Order vs. the Old in sci-fi garments ("Starman") -- are presented with a consistency, a confidence, and a strength in both style and technique that were never fully realized in the lashing The Man Who Sold the World or the eneven and too often stringy Hunky Dory.

Bowie intitiates "Moonage Daydream" on side one with a riveting bellow of "I'm an alligator" that's delightful in itself but which also has a lot to do with what Ziggy Stardust is all about. Because in it there's the perfect touch of self-mockery, a lusty but forlorn bavado that is the first hint of the central duality and of the rather spine-tingling questions that rise from it: Just how big and tough is your rock & roll star? How much of his is bluff and how much inside is very frightened and helpless? And is this what comes of our happily dubbing someone as "bigger than life"?

David Bowie has pulled off his complex task with consummate style, with some great rock & roll (the Spiders are Mick Ronson on guitar and piano, Mick Woodmansy on drums and Trevor Bolder on bass; they're good), with all the wit and passion required to give it sufficient dimension and with a deep sense of humanity that regularly emerges from behind the Star facade. The important thing is that despite the formidable nature of the undertaking, he hasn't sacrificed a bit of entertainment value for the sake of message.

I'd give it at least a 99. -- Richard Cromelin, RS

With Ziggy... David Bowie abruptly redefined what being a male rock star was all about. The cover depicts Bowie as a skinny, crop-haired androgyne in a rainswept alley (though in the recording studio he was still wearing the fey long locks sported on his previous album, Hunky Dory). Clutching an electric guitar, he is an alien beamed down to the drab Earth to bring us rock 'n' roll. (Shot on Heddon Street, London, the photograph was originally black and white but later tinted, giving it an odd Fifties sci-fi quality.)

Ziggy... is the only glam rock album to have stood the test of time. Guitarist Mick Ronson's crunching guitar riffs and soaring solos -- heard to spine-tingling effect on "Moonage Daydream," "Suffragette City," and the title track -- helped to define the glam sound. Bowie's vocals change with every song -- by turns reflective, preening, desperate, and ecstatic. Ziggy... contains a wealth of sexual ambivalence and space-age imagery, but it is couched in solid songwriting and carefullly thought-out arrangements.

It may have sounded like a lightning bolt from the future, but in assuming the role of a troubled rock 'n' roll outsider Bowie immediately clicked with teenagers and critics alike (Rolling Stone gave it "at least 99/100"). Britain, and America's East and West coasts, fell deliriously for Ziggy (though he was just too weird for the Midwest) -- as did punks and New Romantics later, with whom the character's sexual ambiguity and outrageous appearance struck a chord. -- Robert Dimery, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die


review
[-] by Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Borrowing heavily from Marc Bolan's glam rock and the future shock of A Clockwork Orange, David Bowie reached back to the heavy rock of The Man Who Sold the World for The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Constructed as a loose concept album about an androgynous alien rock star named Ziggy Stardust, the story falls apart quickly, yet Bowie's fractured, paranoid lyrics are evocative of a decadent, decaying future, and the music echoes an apocalyptic, nuclear dread. Fleshing out the off-kilter metallic mix with fatter guitars, genuine pop songs, string sections, keyboards, and a cinematic flourish, Ziggy Stardust is a glitzy array of riffs, hooks, melodrama, and style and the logical culmination of glam. Mick Ronson plays with a maverick flair that invigorates rockers like "Suffragette City," "Moonage Daydream," and "Hang Onto Yourself," while "Lady Stardust," "Five Years," and "Rock 'n' Roll Suicide" have a grand sense of staged drama previously unheard of in rock & roll. And that self-conscious sense of theater is part of the reason why Ziggy Stardust sounds so foreign. Bowie succeeds not in spite of his pretensions but because of them, and Ziggy Stardust -- familiar in structure, but alien in performance -- is the first time his vision and execution met in such a grand, sweeping fashion.

Algerian Goalkeeper, Thursday, 28 March 2013 16:00 (eleven years ago) link


You must be logged in to post. Please either login here, or if you are not registered, you may register here.