Music out my ass

One of the things I thought this blog might do was force me to listen to some of my music more closely. That was certainly idealistic, given my priorities: Leö, Will and Jack. Unfortunately, I am still picking up things here and there - a download here, something from emusic there, a burn copy from a friend, buying something from Treehouse. I get to most of it, but still I feel like I'm not giving it the attention it deserves. My "New Stuff" folder in iTunes, just stuff I got since Leö's birth, is 1.9 days full. Oy Vey, there's some cleaning to do. So, onward and upward with some capsule musings.


Rhino hit two grand slams out of the park with the first two volumes of Nuggets, the four disk sets of garage rock/psych from the US and UK, respectively. They hit a run scoring ground rule double with their third set, Children of Nuggets. It's satisfying, but not nearly as satisfying as their predecessors. And it doesn't really follow any aesthetic - it hits garage rock revival, power pop, paisley underground, and punk, each of which could have been a set of their own. As it is, Children of Nuggets is a jumble with great pleasures - early Bangles, Smithereens, The rush of The Lyres, the odd punk/lounge of the Cramps, and 96 more mysteries from the underground.


Equally mysterious is the depth of the wellspring from where Robert Pollard gets the inspiration to write his songs. His second volume of discards, Suitcase 2, is a tougher slog than the first one, but it's better than either Airport 5 album. Filled with hiss, ambient noise, bad mics, and buzzing cords, what you get is the songs, which is what matters. There are some ambitious items here that are surprising he forgot, and others he probably forgot the second he stopped playing them. As usual with his stuff, it only gets me, and the rest of his rabid fanbase jazzed up for the next release.


Which he's already issued. Suitcase is better than this, too. Music for Bubble is incidental music he cut for an upcoming Steven Soderbergh film. Six songs, twelve minutes, typical. I could have done without the instrumental passages. Fantastic artwork, though.


Northern Soul is my new favorite genre. The quality of Sixties R&B that didn't make it is amazing. Ace/Kent and Goldsoul are the best reissue labels for it, but neither have ventured to make a large all-encompassing set. I picked this up at the Electric Fetus, and paid fifteen bucks for it, which is the best buy I've had for a set like this. 60 tracks, 50 of them worthwhile. Has the original "Sliced Tomatoes" from Just Brothers, which Fatboy Slim copped to write "Rockefeller Skank." And forgotten classics like "Stop What You're Doing" from The Playthings, "I'm Gonna Pick Up My Toys" from The Devonnes, and the truly tremendous "Apples Peaches Pumpkin Pie" from Odds & Ends, and "Girls Are Out To Get You," by The Fascinations. Skip the disco bits and the bogus instrumental from The Casino Soul Orchestra, and you've still got a great night of dancing with songs that beg to be danced to.


Madonna's gone disco. She's always been disco, you ask? Well, she was always working to bring dance music to the masses, but this is the first time she sounds like she's taking it straight to the dance floor. Almost like she's retreating to what she knows best. Lots of beats, grooves and thumping, an ode to the capital of disco, New York (the fabulous "I Love New York"), and a sample from an icon, ABBA (the kind of wasted "Hung Up"). Her lyrics were turned inward, they don't seem as universal as "Holiday," "Into The Groove," "Music," or "Vogue," all appeals for everybody to celebrate. They seem personal, like you're eavesdropping on a conversation, like her Like a Prayer. As it is, Confessions is both new direction and backtrack, and one of my favorite releases of the year.