Tuesday, June 5, 2012

1989

                Apart from hip-hop, and maybe UK indie, 1989 is a pretty good year, but not a great year.  A year that very much feels like a gap between the old big acts of the ‘80s and the upcoming early-90s alt-rock explosion.  I’m not sure how much of that is just anticipation, but at the same time, a number of the big acts of the 80s are AWOL this year, esp. R.E.M., U2, and the now-defunct Hüsker Du, or put out sub-par records (the Replacements, the Pogues).  There’s some exciting signs of things to come, but especially for the grungies, it’s more music with a lot of potential than great music.  Still, some worthy stuff, including some surprising returns to form for the folk-rockers.
                But by far the most exciting stuff happening this year is in hip-hop.  Between Paul’s Boutique, Three Feet High & Rising, and Fear of A Black Planet, this is pretty much the peak for the sample-intensive era of hip-hop.  It’s not every day that the courts play a major role in shaping the development of a musical genre, but Grand Upright Music, Ltd v. Warner Bros. Records Inc. managed to do just that, by making it prohibitively expensive to layer sample-upon-sample the way the Beasties, De La Soul, and Public Enemy do here.  Which is a shame, as each of these records is a masterpiece in its own way (though for PE, it’s more a continuation of the stuff they were doing last year).  Each are great lyrically, as well, but each of these groups would be worthy lyrically later on regardless, but be legally prohibited from returning to this dense, complex style of hip-hop musically.
                Over in the UK, BAD were clearly listening to theses groups, and their first two albums were very much built on layers of samples (on top of a live band), so there’s clearly a musical kinship, though I somewhat suspect it was a one-way influence.  BAD do rebound fairly well this year, still sounding mighty wimpy but musically interesting, and sounding reinvigorated by listening to the Madchester bands, who themselves clearly were influenced by BAD.  New Order are similarly reinvigorated by Madchester and acid house, though in both cases, it’s better than what they were up to in ’88 (when both respective bands were sounding pretty played-out) if not as good as when they were at their peak in the years prior.  It’s not all Madchester for the established UK bands, though.  Wire are off on their own esoteric dance-rock trip, while the Cure put out the first goth music I’ve heard since (I think) 1983.  Interestingly, Prince, who’s on a bit of a downhill slide here, fits better with the Madchester/acid house UK bands than the US hip-hop acts.  First of all, his approach is basically a psychedelic rock-over-dance beats approach rather than sampledelica, and secondly, like the UK acts, he sounds uncomfortable around rapping.   Also, for what it’s worth, both Prince and the Happy Mondays have hits this year that sample Tim Burton’s Batman (Prince with “Batdance,” the Mondays with a Jack Nicholson-sampling remix).
                The biggest record to come out of Machester, both this year and generally, though, is the Stone Roses’ debut, which was considered an all-time great album at the time.  The Roses basically cracked their formula last year, of jangle-pop plus danceable beats, and this year by stretching it to album length had a massive (UK) hit.  It’s pretty easy to hear why, too.  Like the Smiths did with “How Soon Is Now” in ’86, The Stone Roses blends together just about all of the contemporary strains of UK indie music.  There’s jangle-pop and folk-rock, some shoegaze, a touch of goth, and, of course, those Madchester drumbeats underneath it all.  So the best British album of ’89?  Probably, though there’s a case to be made for the Mekons’ Rock ‘n Roll.  But among the best British albums of all time?  Nah.  Too derivative in its jangle-pop, too uniform in its approach, and (like almost all British dance music) not funky enough in its dance beats.  Yet another very good but not great UK band held up as a new Beatles/Stones/Clash by a UK press & fanbase desperate for another band of similar caliber.  However, it is worth noting that even by the end of the album (and subsequent non-album singles), the Roses are starting to mutate into something considerably more interesting, with the Who-recalling “I Am The Resurrection” and the rubbery and actually funky “Fool’s Gold,” a low-key shuffle that sounds almost uncannily like the kind of funk Phish will be purveying by the end of the ‘90s. 
                Speaking of, Phish put out their proper debut this year.  They’ll get compared to the Grateful Dead a lot, but while that fits in terms of touring ethos and fanbase, it doesn’t at all musically.  To the degree Phish have a folk-rock influence at this point (and they really don’t), they’re more like the more prog-folk style of Traffic than the looser Dead style.  But really, they sound like a jammy prog-rock band, with elements of Traffic, but also Yes and even a hint of contemporary Rush, who have moved out of their New Wave phase into a more mellow and lightly funky kind of prog (so vaguely similar Phish, though Rush are, certainly at this point and debatably still now better at both musicianship and composition, if not improvisation). 
                The big action in New England, however, is of course not up in Burlington, Vt., but down in Boston.  The Pixies continue to be the best active band in alt-rock (and better than any UK indie bands as well).  It’s really impressive how phenomenal the Pixies were right out of the gate.  Most great bands take at least a few albums to really find their footing (think the Beatles, Stones, Bowie, Nirvana, etc.), but the Pixies (like the Ramones) hit the ground running.  Of course, unlike the Ramones, the Pixies were tremendously diverse, and on Doolittle, they even outdo last year’s Surfer Rosa, covering all kinds of styles, from bouncy pop to aggressive punk to even mock-shoegaze.  As befits a band of this quality, you’re now starting to see bands crop up with a clear Pixies influence, like Superchunk in North Carolina and Ffa Coffi Pawb (who’ll become Super Furry Animals) in Wales.  Between Ffa Coffi Pawb and Seymour (who’ll become Blur), you’re starting to see the seeds of the upcoming Brit-Pop wave, though both sound highly derivative and unremarkable at this point (except for Ffa Coffi Pawb’s entirely Welsh-language singing).   
                Also in Boston this year is the dawn of Third Wave ska, with the debut of the Mighty Mighty Bosstones.  They themselves would describe their sound as “ska-core,” and that’s about accurate.  They sound (at least at this point) like a band with a heavy Madness/Beat influence playing Second Wave ska with hardcore intensity.  So already similar to the punk-ska of most of the Third Wave, although much less jokey than the kind that’ll crop up by the mid-90s.  Also, perhaps fittingly though surely coincidentally, the Fine Young Cannibals, the last Second Wave-derived band I pay any attention to, return with their super-smash second record.  “She Drives Me Crazy” probably wore out its welcome a good two decades ago, but I still love “Good Thing,” which really recalls the sound of the Beat in their prime.  Among the punk survivors in the UK, we also get a last gasp from the Style Council, and a “final” concert from the Damned, who perhaps fittingly for the goth band they turned into, refused to stay dead.  Still, the limping-to-the-finish-line Damned sound especially weak compared to Bad Religion, who continue their one-band punk revival in true Ramones style by making a near-copy of their last record that is nevertheless just as great and worth hearing (possibly because at under half-an-hour each, neither really wears out its welcome).
                The other major source of excitement in the alt-rock worlds is of course the Seattle scene.  Maybe it’s just because I’m an aficionado of sludgy noise, but I hear a lot of variety in the early grunge scene.  First of all, contrary to the propaganda, only Mudhoney and Nirvana show a real punk influence, and even then it’s more Stooges than Ramones or Clash.  Mudhoney’s probably the best of the lot at this point, with more intensity than most of the others and, “About A Girl” excepted, better songs than Nirvana at this point.  Of course, again apart from “About A Girl,” Nirvana sound like they really want to be Mudhoney at this point (or possibly the Melvins, a band sadly underrepresented in my collection).
                Certainly the rest of the grunge-rockers have far less punk in their sound.    There’s a touch in Soundgarden and the Screaming Trees, although Zeppelin looms far larger for both (and for Soundgarden Black Sabbath).  And there’s no punk at all in Mother Love Bone, a band chiefly (and deservedly) remembered as the missing link between Green River and Pearl Jam.  But while Green River and Pearl Jam would both have their share of punk/grunge sound, MLB sound more like Guns ‘n Roses than the other grunge bands.  Which is to say that both sound basically like an angrier Aerosmith.  Even MLB’s biggest hit, “Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns” sounds of a piece with the likes of “Stairway to Heaven,” “Freebird,” and (later on) “November Rain.”  Of course, the other thing I come to realize is that Guns ‘n Roses really had a lot more in common with the grungies than either thrash or hair metal.  If Axl and the Seattle acts hadn’t personally hated each other so much, perhaps that would be more clear.  Of course, that’ll change once Axl decides to turn GnR into a Queen tribute act.  One influence I’d kind of forgotten in the grunge bands is the surprising amount of funk in the early grunge bands, as refracted through the likes of Aerosmith, Fishbone, or the Red Hot Chili Peppers, rather than directly from the likes of P-Funk or James Brown, or even the more punk-funk likes of the Minutemen or Gang of Four.  Even Soundgarden at this point sounds as much like Aerosmith as they do Zeppelin. 
                So overall, I’m really struck at how phenomenally well Aerosmith timed their comeback, just as they for the first time started to sound like an influence in their own right.  I also seem to remember thinking I could hear a huge difference between Mother Love Bone, Aerosmith, and GnR that I’ll be damned if I can spot now.  Better production with Aerosmith, I suppose.  ’89 is also the year that the Rolling Stones make a comeback, but it’s almost surprisingly flat, and shockingly out of time.  Even the terrible other ’80s Stones records at least sounded like they were trying to engage with what was going on around them musically.  Steel Wheels sets the template for reunion Rolling Stones by existing in its own musical universe, where the only real influence is earlier Stones (esp. circa Tattoo You).  Without that spark, though, it’s a simulacra of the Stones, and not the real living act I loved through the 70s.
                Other survivors of the ‘60s and ‘70s do much better this year.  The Traveling Wilburys evidently energized both Bob Dylan and Tom Petty, whose last few records have for both been at best middling (Petty) and at worst almost completely without merit (Dylan, with at best a song or two worth hearing off each since Infidels).  But both are quite good this year, and both have a new producer.  For Dylan, Daniel Lanois is not a great fit.  Like Richard Thompson a few records ago, Dylan gets a shiny, shimmery U2-style production here that doesn’t fit him at all.  Just compare the Lanois “Most of the Time” and the demo version off the Bootleg Series to see how Lanois makes these ultimately quite good songs ponderous and “atmospheric.”  Still, Oh Mercy is pretty clearly Dylan’s best album since Desire, even if attempts to sound contemporary don’t really work.
                Fellow Wilburys Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne (the latter as producer) do better still on Full Moon Fever.  While Dylan’s album is heavy and dark, Full Moon Fever is light as a feather, emphasizing the Byrds influence over the Stones in the classic Petty formula, and thankfully abandoning Petty’s attempts to remodel himself as a heartland rocker.  Lynne also has no interest in making Petty sound like a modern rock act (unlike Lanois with Dylan), instead mimicking ‘60s-style production, which in turn was probably at least accidentally influential on the power-poppers to follow in the ‘90s (Matthew Sweet and the Posies and the like).  I have a bit of a preference for Petty’s earlier, more rockin’ stuff, but this stuff folk-rocks quite enjoyably, and I’ll grant is Petty’s strongest album as a whole (even if Damn The Torpedoes had stronger singles).  The last living Wilbury, George Harrison, also has a new album this year, but it’s not a real change from his pre-Wilburys comeback sound (and it was following up on that comeback that led to the Wilburys in the first place, after all).
                Not a Wilbury, but still a folk-rock survivor on the comeback trail is Neil Young.  Freedom gets cited as Young’s return to form after a decade of genre-hopping and dabbling, but that’s not quite accurate.  This is the most eclectic album of Young’s career, jumping between multiple styles making it something of a summation of his “lost decade.”  ”Crime in the City,” for instance, could fit sonically on This Note’s For You (where it would easily be the best song), while “Hangin’ On A Limb” could be an Old Ways track and ”Don’t Cry” a Life track.  Elsewhere, Young experiments with flamenco, Springsteen-style balladeering, and more.  And, of course, the (electric) title track shows just how much Young had in common with the grungies, at least the Dinosaur Jr.-Mudhoney end of them. 
                Similarly eclectic, but starting a decade (plus) of half-baked genre experiments rather than ending one is Elvis Costello’s Spike, which has a bunch of great songs, but nothing approaching a cohesive sound.  At times there’s Beatle-eque pop songs (“Veronica,” the best song Paul McCartney’s (co-)written since at least the late ‘70s), cabaret, send-ups of the Stray Cats half a decade late, and more.  This plus Elvis’s last two set his template for the rest of his career: baffling eclecticism (Spike), Americana (King of America), and returns to his classic aggressive sound (Blood & Chocolate).
                Speaking of reinventions, a couple of punk-rock survivors reinvent themselves as roots-rockers this year.  Bob Mould’s shift to folk-rock was presaged a bit by the acoustic stuff on Candy Apple Grey, but is still a shock from someone so associated with hard-driving rock.  And it’s very good, too, with Mould showing as much aptitude at this kind of stuff as his old Hüsker style (which he does revisit on the closer).  I used to think of this as Mould showing an R.E.M. influence, but now it really sounds more the other way around, as this is the sound R.E.M. will follow on Out of Time.  A contemporary live cover of “Shoot Out The Lights,” though, reveals both where Mould learned his folk-rock and just how uncannily his voice recalls Richard Thompson. 
                Joe Strummer’s shift to roots-rock is less surprising, given the Clash’s late era stuff, but also more disappointing.  He’s got a featherweight, vaguely tropical vibe going that sounds closer to Jimmy Buffett or (more accurately) Stephen Still’s Latin exercises than anything on the Clash’s first few albums or certainly what Mick Jones was up to in ’89.  Not bad, but forgettable.  An inauspicious solo debut, and the last we’ll here from Strummer for about a decade.  (barring some guest appearances as a Shane MacGowan stand-in for the Pogues).
                Speaking of, MacGowan’s increasing dissolution is forcing the Pogues to become more of a democracy songwriting/singing-wise.  This is ultimately kind of unfortunate.  The other Pogues make competent but unremarkable roots-rock, and even the MacGowan tracks are mostly forgettable.  Still, non-album single (and Northern Soul tribute) “Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah” is among the best songs in the Pogues catalogue, showing that there’s still some life in them.
                Also showing a great deal of life are the Mekons, who this year turn to the most staright-ahead rock & roll of their careers (on the appropriately-titled Rock ‘n Roll).  When they were punk rockers, they wanted to be Wire, and their last albums have been country-rock or pan-global roots music, so it’s interesting to hear them just tear through a set of more-or-less straightahead rock & roll tracks  (and the
“& roll” part is important: like the Stones and X before them, the Mekons remembered to give their rockers some swing).  Like Neil Young, I suppose you could hear this as a riposte to the young guns in the US, as certainly no one in the UK is rocking like this, consumed as they are with more mannered shoegaze and more dance-focused sounds.  But if Young is sounding like a grunge influence, the Mekons sound more than ever like Uncle Tupelo forebearers, playing country-rock with the aggressive energy of punk rock.
                Still no proper Uncle Tupelo, but to my surprise the Jayhawks beat them out the gate as the first proper alt-country band.  It’s quite good, although also easy to hear why they didn’t make the splash that Uncle Tupelo did.  The Jayhawks are much more classicist, showing far less punk in their country than Tupelo will soon enough.  Also turning to alt-country, though, are Camper Van Beethoven on their last record.  It’s also (unsurprisingly) the one that most foreshadows David Lowrey’s next band, Cracker, in that both sound like they learned their country from the Rolling Stones.  It’s also, somewhat surprisingly, perhaps the most lyrically serious album in either band’s catalogue.   Growing up suits Camper Van Beethoven surprisingly well.  The same unfortunately cannot be said of the Replacements.  Don’t Tell A Soul  is the last “real” Replacements album, as the last is really a Westerberg solo record, and it’s the sound of a band running out of steam.  The ballads are still mostly solid, if nothing we haven’t heard from Westerberg before, but the rockers are much weaker this go-round.  Still, “I’ll Be You” is a keeper.
                And so ends my listen-through of the ‘80s.  This was a decade I was very interested to listen through, as I didn’t have a very good sense of how it would map quality-wise.  I was basically right that the ‘60s were a steady climb up to a plateau reached by 1966, and that the ‘70s were “U” shaped (though I didn’t realize that the decline started as early as it did, setting in by ’73 and bottoming out in ’74-’75).  But I didn’t’ really have a good sense of the ‘80s  At this point, I’d say they were “W” shaped, but the kind of W where the middle peak (1984) is lower than the ends (the declining years of punk/New Wave and the beginning of alt-rock).  It’s also a slight tapering off here in ’89, as most of what’s going on outside of hip-hop are either the early rumblings of US alt-rock scene that shows more potential than actual realized greatness at this point or a stylistic dead end in the Madchester/baggy dance-pop in the UK.  So bring on the ‘90s!

Song of the Year:  The Mekons – “Empire of the Senseless.”  The funniest (in a bitter kind of way) anti-Thatcher song of the lot.  Best line (and a phenomenal rebuke to Thatcher’s asinine “there’s no such thing as society”): “these lines are all individuals/and there’s no such thing as a song.”  Second best line: “this song promotes homosexuality/it’s in a pretended family relationship with the others on this record/and in the charts and on the jukebox/and on the radio.”  Also, it’s worth noting that while ’89 gave us the funniest anti-Thatcher song, it also gave us the most nakedly bitter, in Elvis Costello’s “Tramp the Dirt Down.”  Delivering lines like “That's when they finally put you in the ground/I'll stand on your grave and tramp the dirt down” over a lilting Celtic melody just makes the sentiment all the more intense.
Album of the Year:  One of the sampledelic masterpieces, either the Beastie Boys’ Paul’s Boutique or De La Soul’s Three Feet High & Rising.  I go back and forth as to whether I love the Beasties’ stunning reinvention from lightweight party-rappers to artistic heavyweights or De La’s masterful debut more.  Today Paul’s Boutique, but tomorrow probably Three Feet High.  Thank you once again, Judge Duffy, for a ruling that prevented us from hearing how this kind of hip-hop sound could have developed.  But no, MC Hammer-style sampling is much better, you’re right…
Artist Most Benefiting from Reevaluation:  Aerosmith, but not because of their good but unremarkable comeback stuff.  Rather, because I now realize just how influential they were on the development of Seattle grunge and through grunge music in the ‘90s.
Artist Most Diminished in Reevaluation:  No real candidate this year.  A lot of the bands that aren’t very good are still in their growing pains.  Mother Love Bone, maybe, who are overrated, but not by me, who always just saw them as historically interesting rather than a great band in their own right.

Album List
Al Green - The Absolute Best
Bad Religion - All Ages
Bad Religion - Suffer
Big Audio Dynamite - Planet BAD: Greatest Hits
Big Audio Dynamite - Tighten Up 88
Billy Bragg - Must I Paint You A Picture?: The Essential Billy Bragg
Bob Dylan - Greatest Hits Volume 3
Camper Van Beethoven - Popular Songs of Great Enduring Strength and Beauty
Cheap Trick - The Authorized Greatest Hits
Cowboy Junkies - The Trinity Session
Devo - Pioneers Who Got Scalped: The Anthology
Dinosaur Jr. - Bug
Dinosaur Jr. - Ear-Bleeding Country: Best Of Dinosaur Jr
Elvis Costello – Spike
Eric B. & Rakim - Paid In Full
Fleetwood Mac - The Very Best Of Fleetwood Mac
Green River - Rehab Doll
Guns N' Roses - G N' R Lies
Happy Mondays - Double Easy: The U.S. Singles
Iggy Pop - Nude & Rude: The Best Of Iggy [Explicit]
Iron Maiden - Misc.
Jane's Addiction - Up From The Catacombs: The Best Of Jane's Addiction
Judas Priest - Metal Works '73-'93
Leonard Cohen - I'm Your Man
Megadeth - Greatest Hits: Back To The Start (Digital Only)
Metallica - ...And Justice For All
Mission Of Burma - The Wasted Years
Morrissey - The Best Of Morrissey
Mudhoney - March To Fuzz: Best Of...
Mudhoney - March To Fuzz: Rarities
My Bloody Valentine - Isn't Anything
Neil Young - Lucky Thirteen
New Order - Retro
Nick Lowe - Basher: The Best Of Nick Lowe
Nirvana - Incesticide
Ozzy Osbourne - The Ozzman Cometh
Patti Smith - Outside Society
Pet Shop Boys - Discography: The Complete Singles Collection
Prince - The B-Sides
Prince - The Hits
Public Enemy - It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back
R.E.M. - Green
Richard Thompson - Action Packed: The Best Of The Capitol Years
Run-D.M.C. - Greatest Hits
Sonic Youth - Daydream Nation
Soundgarden - A-Sides
Steve Earle - The Best Of Steve Earle
Super Furry Animals - Ffa Coffi Pawb - Am Byth
Talking Heads - Sand In The Vaseline
The Fall - 50,000 Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong: 39 Golden Greats
The Flaming Lips - In A The Priest Driven Ambulance
The Flaming Lips - Telepathic Surgery
The Flaming Lips - The Fearless Freaks
The Jesus & Mary Chain - 21 Singles
The Mekons - I Have Been to Heaven and Back..., Vol. 1
The Mekons - So Good It Hurts
The Pixies - Death To The Pixies
The Pixies - Misc.
The Pixies - Surfer Rosa
The Pogues - If I Should Fall From Grace With God [Bonus Tracks]
The Replacements – Don’t Tell A Soul
The Replacements - Nothing For All
The Stone Roses - The Complete Stone Roses
The Style Council - The Singular Adventures Of The Style Council
The Tragically Hip – Up To Here
The Vaselines - The Way Of The Vaselines
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - Playback VI: Nobody's Children
Toots & The Maytals - Time Tough - The Anthology
U2 - B-Sides 1980-1990
U2 - The Best Of 1980-1990
Uncle Tupelo - No Depression
V/A - Children Of Nuggets I
V/A - Children Of Nuggets II
V/A - Old School II
Violent Femmes - Add It Up (1981-1993)
Wire - 1985-1990 The A List
Wire – IBTABA
X - Beyond & Back: The X Anthology

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