#Recorded live in Europe 1993

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢 ℑ𝔫 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 – 𝔇𝔦𝔯𝔱

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Cranberries - Zombie 1994

"Zombie" is a protest song by Irish alternative rockband the Cranberries. It was written by the lead singer, Dolores O'Riordan, about the young victims of a bombing in Warrington, England, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The song was released on 19 September 1994 as the lead single from the Cranberries' second studio album, No Need to Argue. While the record label feared releasing a too controversial and politically charged song as a single, "Zombie" reached number 1 on the charts of Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, and spent nine consecutive weeks at number 1 on the French SNEP Top 100. It reached number 2 on the Ö3 Austria Top 40, where it stayed for eight weeks. The song did not chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart as it wasn't released as a single there, but it reached number 1 on the US Billboard Alternative Airplay chart. Listeners of the Australian radio station Triple J voted it number 1 on the 1994 Triple J Hottest 100 chart, and it won the Best Song Award at the 1995 MTV Europe Music Awards.

The Troubles were a conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s to 1998. The Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), an Irish republican paramilitary organisation, waged an armed campaign to end British rule in Northern Ireland and unite the region with the Republic of Ireland. Republican and Unionist paramilitaries killed more than 3,500 people, many from thousands of bomb attacks. One of the bombings happened on 30 March 1993, as two IRA improvised explosive devices hidden in litter bins were detonated in a shopping street in Warrington, England. Two people; Johnathan Ball, aged 3, and Tim Parry, aged 12, were killed in the attack. 56 people were injured. Ball died at the scene of the bombing as a result of his shrapnel-inflicted injuries, and five days later, Parry lost his life in a hospital as a result of head injuries. O'Riordan decided to write a song that reflected upon the event and the children's deaths after visiting the town: "We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that's why I was saying, 'It's not me' – that even though I'm Irish it wasn't me, I didn't do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension." The song was re-popularised in 2023 after it was played after Ireland games at the 2023 Rugby World Cup. It was picked up by fans of the Irish team, with videos of fans singing the song in chorus accumulating hundreds of thousands of views on social media. This offended other Irishmen, who identified it as an "anti-IRA" anthem, and said that that the lyrics failed to consider their experience during the Troubles.

The music video, directed by Samuel Bayer, was filmed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the heart of the Troubles with real footage, and in Dublin. To record video footage of murals, children and British Army soldiers on patrol, he had a false pretext, with a cover story about making a documentary about the peace-keeping efforts in Ireland. Bayer stated that a shot in the video where an SA80 rifle is pointed directly at the camera is a suspicious British soldier asking him to leave, and that the IRA were keeping a close look at the shoot, given "the British Army come in with fake film crews, getting people on camera.” While "Zombie" received heavy rotation on MTV Europe and was A-listed on Germany's VIVA, the music video was banned by the BBC because of its "violent images", and by the RTÉ, Ireland's national broadcaster. Instead, both the BBC and the RTÉ opted to broadcast an edited version focusing on footage of the band in a live performance, a version that the Cranberries essentially disowned. Despite their efforts to maintain the original video "out of view from the public", some of the initial footage prevailed, with scenes of children holding guns. In March 2003, on the eve of the outbreak of the Iraq War, the British Government and the Independent Television Commission issued a statement saying ITC's Programme Code would temporarily remove from broadcast songs and music videos featuring "sensitive material", including "Zombie". Numerous media groups complied with the decision to avoid "offending public feeling", along with MTV Europe. Since it violated the ITC guidelines, "Zombie" was placed on a blacklist of songs, targeting its official music video. The censorship was lifted once the war had ended. In April 2020, it became the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on Youtube.

"Zombie" received a total of 91% yes votes!

[lovelytsunoda]

spill the wine // lance stroll

summary: honeymooning with the hutchence-strolls. capri will always hold a special place in y/n's heart.

pairing: lance stroll x hutchence!reader

part two of the welcome to wherever you are verse

author's note: i'm so glad that you guys loved the first part of the welcome to wherever you are verse! i was so excited to make this into a series, combining two of my current hyperfixations. i hope that the first part was enough to make some of you curious about the life and times of my favourite aussie rock band. for people who are looking to learn more, i recommend watching the channel seven drama 'never tear us apart', starring luke arnold as micheal hutchence. it's two episodes, each of them an hour and a half that takes a look into the rise and fall of inxs. arnold's protrayal of micheal was beautifully done (and i love alex williams as kirk).

y/n.hutchence just posted to her private story!

y/n.hutchence just posted (private)

island of capri, italy.

tagged: lancestroll

liked by lancestroll, officialinxs, yourbestie and 130 others.

y/n.hutchence as my father once said, 'spill the wine, kiss that girl."

see all comments

jonfarriss first of all those aren't the real words, and your father didn't actually write spill the wine

-> y/n.hutchence jon why do you have to be right all the time huh?

-> jonfarriss you also know that song is about being on five different kinds of illegal drugs?

-> andrewfarriss he's being annoying because he cares. make smart choices, kiddo!

-> y/n.hutchence andrew have you ever known me not to make the smart choice? i'm living the sober girlie lifestyle here

yourbestie looking good sunshine!!!remember to send me pics, I need to pretend I don’t work a nine to five!

lancestroll wow I can’t decide what’s more beautiful: the scenery or my wife (jokes on you guys, it’s my wife)

-> y/n.hutchence 🥺🥺

kirkpengilly nice to see alcatraz hasn’t changed

-> y/n.hutchence of course you hated it...you hate the beach, the sand, the water, the sun

-> kirkpengilly i do not

-> laynebeachley sweetie she is right.

lancestroll just added to his story

lancestroll just posted!

island of capri, italy

tagged: y/n.hutchence

liked by y.n/hutchence, kirkpengilly, astonmartinf1 and 4,567 others

lancestroll honeymooning with the hutchence-strolls

see all comments

astonmartinf1 are lemons supposed to be that big?

-> y/n.hutchence arent they awesome?

estebanocon why do you have to add 'with the hutchence-strolls' to everything?? 'easter with the hutchence-strolls' 'cook chicken gyros with the hutchence strolls' its EXHAUSTING. watch you guys make a sex tape and call it 'making babies with the hutchence-strolls'

-> kirkpengilly they'd better not! y/n i will resurrect your father and have him talk some sense into you

-> y/n.hutchence kirky calm down!! there is NO sex tape!

user y/n is so stunning! europe looks good on her

yourbestie i held my tongue at the wedding but she has been so fucking happy since you guys got married and if you hurt her i will give you HELL to PAY

-> lancestroll don't worry, she's in good hands. she's my reason to get up every morning, my reason to smile. i have never felt more alive than i do when she is next to me

garrygarybeers huh i actually think capri has gotten nicer since 1993

mickschumacher why do your legs look so long in the first picture

-> lancestroll thanks mick, now that you've pointed it out i can never unsee it smh

y/n.hutchence just posted (private)

liked by yourbestie, yourmom, lancestroll and 278 others

y/n.hutchence take my breath away

see all comments

lancestroll it was an honor to experience the grotto with you, my wife

-> y/n.hutchence the view was pretty, but you were prettier, my husband

yourbestie consider my mind BLOWN. things like these just exist in nature???

timfarriss now why didn't we go here when we were recording the album again? this place would have inspired the crap out of us. your dad would have loved it.

fernandoalonso ah yes, the grotto. fond memories of skinny dipping there

-> lancestroll ew why did you think i needed to know that

-> y/n.hutchence i second that

(next part)

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @clemswrld @httpiastri @cartierre @lorarri @thatsdemko @sidcrosbyspuck

[todays-just-a-daydream]

Charting the rise of Oasis in summer 1994 via archives of Music & Media (pan-European music industry magazine in the 90s). Issue dates from each clip left to right: 13 August; 27 August; 3 September; 17 September; 17 September.

Radio reports in industry magazines tell the story of Oasis climbing the UK charts and breaking into Europe in late summer 1994. Music & Media in the 90s was the European version of America’s Billboard magazine. While the record charts were the focus, each issue also included a section in new releases (both singles and albums) as well as station reports. Each week radio stations would report their lists to the magazine and include what songs they've added to their rotation. The way I understand it, A lists are played more than B lists, which are played more than N lists.

I went through the August-September 1994 issues of Music & Media searching “Oasis” for any relevant clips.

Note: Keep in mind all dates reflect the issue that the content was in and that there was a slight lag (generally 1-2 weeks) in industry news outside of the UK.

Following Live Forever’s release

The third Oasis single, Live Forever, gets added to the BBC1's N list on 6th of August upon its release, due to consistent interest in each single since Columbia (White Label Demo) in Dec 1993.

The single also makes the B list for Virgin 1215 AM London. The next week, Forth RFM in Edinburgh adds the song to its A list. One week later, the song gets a small mention in the New Releases review section of the magazine:

Is it a fata morgana, or is Oasis for real? We've had so many over-hyped British bands now, that we prefer to take a back seat. But then again we haven't heard such good pop since the La's.

Two weeks later, 27th of August, Live Forever reaches no. 10 on the UK singles chart.

The magazine reports this in a small blurb describing them as "Scottish band Oasis", possibly due to the concentration of the band’s support being in Scotland. Radio Clyde in Glasgow adds the song to its rotation. MTV Europe also adds the video to its new videos list.

At the start of September, Definitely Maybe gets a review in the new album releases, where Live Forever is called “a masterpiece.” I should add industry mags are typically dry and not prone to hyperbole.

Radio Clyde's head Bobby Hain writes that Oasis has become "local favourites" since performing at T in the Park festival a few weeks before.

At the same time, Live Forever gets added to more radio playlists. Red Dragon FM in Cardiff adds the song to its B list. In Europe, Radio 21 in Brussels, Het Station in Hilversum (Holland), and Polskie Radio 2 in Warsaw (Poland) add it to their A list.

By the 10th of September MTV Europe adds the Live Forever video to its Buzz Bin. This week Sveriges Radio in Stockholm (Sweden) adds the song to its A list, with Radio Stella FM 106 in Helsingberg following the next week.

But it takes until the 17th of September for Oasis to get a full length article in the magazine, entitled "Oasis Is No Mirage Of the British Hope and Glory" (above). It mentions the skepticism in Europe of British bands that don’t live up to the hype. But argues Oasis is the real deal. It singles out Sweden as the first European market where the band has broken out from the UK. It calls the band’s songs “retro pop,” lists some influences from Neil Young to T-Rex, and leaves with the idea Oasis seems like a “universal band” that can translate to other countries.

The case study of Sweden

The band plays the Hultsfred festival in Sweden 13 August 1994. This is also the site of the classic Gallagher interview where Noel claims their music will stand the test of time. There’s also bootlegs of a radio broadcast of the show, but it’s not clear if it aired live at the time or was simply recorded and broadcasted later in 95.

Noel and Liam both bragged about making headlines in the country for starting a bar brawl after they played this festival. Did this play a factor in the band’s early chart success there?

Notably mentioned by Music & Media, by the 3rd of September, Swedish radio stations are already picking up Live Forever, while most of Europe is still working through older singles.

Sweden becomes the first country outside of the UK for Definitely Maybe to chart (even a week before Ireland), entering the chart at no. 14. The album reaches 4 by 17th of September (to compare the album is at 9 in Ireland the same week).

Along with sales elsewhere, it’s enough to pull the album to 10 in the European charts.

Did the bar brawl help album sales in Sweden?

When looking at Oasis gigs in August/September it’s not surprising Sweden is the first to chart. They play Paris in June and New York in July. But Sweden is the first place outside the UK they have two gigs in less than one month. The festival gig in August and another one a few days after the first album is released.

Now I know controversy sells is a 90s maxim and Oasis used outrage to their advantage. But I remain skeptical of the claim they made front page headlines from the bar brawl. It seems to me that’d be a clipping you could find online if it happened. I don’t have access to Swedish papers to directly verify the pages (if anyone has access, lmk!). But I could do a quick search of archives of two popular newspapers, a morning newspaper and an evening one, to see "oasis" mentions in 1994:

While “oasis” gets mentioned a few times before August (some nonband mentions including a guy named Kenny Oasis drive earlier mentions), it’s steady afterward in reference to the band.

The results of a search for “oasis” in Dagens Nyheter in 1994 includes a thumbnail of the page and the relevant excerpt to check context. Below are the excerpts visible for August/September and a rough translation (any Swedish fans out there correct me if I’m wrong).

The 11th of August has a short article on page 20 about the Hultsfred festival they were set to play on the 13th.

On the 15th on page 24, the band gets mentioned in a review of the festival:

När Oasis spelade vid sextiden var det väldigt mycket folk i Saharatältet

(When Oasis played at six o'clock there were a lot of people in the Sahara tent)

On the 18th in the entertainment section of ads, Definitely Maybe as a pending Oasis album is mentioned. There’s also an ad for another show with Oasis on the bill with Pavement at the top and Jeff Buckley. This is most likely the 2 September show at the Gino.

On the 24th, Liam’s face makes an appearance on page 21 along with other band/artist photos. The photo caption reads “Liam Gallagher i Oasis renodlar det som andra påbörjat.” (Liam Gallagher's Oasis refines what others have started.) with a photo credit to “matthias bardå Filmiskt” so good bet it’s from the Hultsfred festival.

The 31st of August shows the closest Oasis gets to the front page at the time. On page 2, Live Forever is mentioned in a list of things to complain about (an opinion piece? satire? it’s not clear): Yvs över exportaktiernas uppgång, yvs över Oasis ”Live Forever”, men herregud, att yvas över ett land, ett stycke mark, det är väl. (Howl about the rise of export shares, howl about Oasis' "Live Forever", but oh my god, howl about a country, a piece of land, that's fine.) The mention does suggest the song is already recognizable to Swedish readers by the time Definitely Maybe is released.

Oasis at the Hultsfred festival is still being talked about 2nd of September (page 77):

Beatles anses vara en inte oviktig förebild för Oasis. Och det bekräftades i Hultsfred.

(The Beatles are considered a not unimportant role model for Oasis. And it was confirmed in Hultsfred.)

On page 75 the same day, an ad for the Gino show that night. But Oasis is now top billing (no Pavement).

Same issue, the show gets mentioned on earlier pages (page 20) in context of the band’s climb:

Oasis klättrar raskt och spelar dessutom i Stockholm i dag, fredag.

(Oasis is climbing fast and is also playing in Stockholm today, Friday.)

The rest of September, Oasis gets 8 mentions in the paper on pages 20-29.

Now without access to each article in full, I can’t be certain there is no mention of the bar brawl in all of this. But these excerpts do suggest that it’s a nonissue at least in this paper. Their festival show is well attended, people remember it, another show is set for a few weeks later and is advertised as the postfestival chatter ramps up the album release excitement. They return a second time for more buzz and the album hits the top 5 a few weeks later. But obviously that’s boring so bar brawl narrative it is.

[dustedmagazine]

Listening Post: Stereolab

In 1993, Stereolab co-founder Tim Gane told MTV Europe that he wanted to make records like the ones he liked listening to. Not an unusual sentiment but a useful reference point to begin with this 85-track, six-and-a-half hour exhumation of his band’s back catalog.

Formed in 1990 with Laetitia Sadier, the only other consistent member, Stereolab are themselves archivists. Beginning in 1992, the five Switched On releases have gathered rarities, singles, EPs and demos between albums for fans who couldn’t keep up with their occasionally prolific output. So nothing here is new. They also released remastered and expanded versions of their first seven albums in 2019.  Which begs the first question, do we need this all together and all at once?

At every point in Stereolab’s career, critics and fans have struggled to discuss Stereolab without referencing their influences. From their early guitar and organ driven garage drone to Neu! style Krautrock, the lounge sounds of Esquivel, Denny and Meek, Ye-Ye, bossa nova, tropicalia, Reichian minimalism and spacey noodling, Stereolab have wandered into many of the byways of pop music history often combining disparate elements in surprising ways. And it seems one’s attitude to them can depend largely on how you react to this magpie approach. I know people who swear by one particular Stereolab LP or sound but have no interest or regard for the rest. And this notion that they are pretentious dilettantes or somehow phony seems to linger. But for me at least there are constant threads that define them even as you move through the diversity on this compilation. 

Sadier’s voice is a deceptively dulcet instrument for her lyrics, sung in French and English and steeped in Marxist dialectic and Situationalist social critique. Her harmonizing with multi-instrumentalist Mary Hansen (from 1992 until her untimely death in 2002) was a key to some of Stereolab’s best moments. The densely layered guitars, analogue keyboards and motorik rhythms of well-known songs like ‘“French Disko,” “La Boob Oscillator” and “John Cage Bubblegum” still sound great. The keen melodic sense that mitigates the whimsy of some of their more outre space lounge moments like “One Note Samba/Surfboard” and “Outer Bongolia.” The groove jams and esoterica of their Can referencing collaborations with Nurse With Wound “Trippin’ with the Birds” and “Simple Headphone Mind.”  These are all highlights for me. Having seen them live at various junctures in their career I can say that when they hit their groove they can be a mesmerizingly heady experience. 

Intro by Andrew Forell

Andrew Forell: I know that this collection is an exhausting proposition especially if you haven’t listened to much or any of their music but I’m interested to hear what you all have to say about the band and which elements of their music particularly strike you positively or otherwise.

[Before we got into the main discussion, there was some preliminary kvetching about the six-hour length of the compilation.]

Bill Meyer: Stereolab is a bit like cake and ice cream, you only need so much at a time. 

I finally took the plunge and have made it through 26 songs — I am on 27 as I type it. I think I’m already pushing past the point where I recognize any of it, since I only heard Switched On 1 and 2 upon original release. Some of the songs hold up pretty well —  “French Disko” is a crowd pleaser for a reason, and if I was in the crowd, I’d be pleased to hear it, too. But a lot of their music relies upon the appropriation of familiar elements  — the Neu groove, the Modern Lovers riff, the “sounds like something I heard in an old French movie” interludes. Even though they didn’t use samplers much, at least not during the years that I was listening, they bring a sampling-age approach that flexes the recognizability of their mostly 1970s-vintage influences. This is not a new observation, of course, but since I have barely listened to them for 10-15 years, I think I’m being reminded of why I haven’t felt like I needed to go back. I’m certainly more likely to put on a Neu record than a Stereolab record these days. 

Jonathan Shaw: I don't have one Stereolab record with which I have that sort of relationship, but it's relevant here that Refried Ectoplasm, the second Switched On volume, was the first Stereolab release I spent any serious time with. I loved it, still do, and soon came to love the first Switched On comp even more. By the time The First of the Microbe Hunters appeared, I had tuned out. The lounge jazz and fizzy Tropicalia reminded me too much of Pizzicato Five — not quite as irritating, but just as blithe. No thanks. It's the guitar-forward version of the band that I like best. I know I am not taking a bold position by saying that "Lo Boob Oscillator" is a surpassingly great song; it's still my favorite thing on Refried Ectoplasm.

It might be less of a common opinion that "Doubt" is a quintessential Stereolab song. Ebullient and anxious in equal measure, it prompts you to get up and boogie even as it saws away at your Achilles tendons. You collapse, pull yourself into a chair, and start sit-dancing, because the song just won't stop being itself.

Jennifer Kelly: Yes, I also was surprised at how muscular some of the early material was.  I'm listening to "Brittle" right now, and sure it has the boppy, cheery vocals, but there's a good bit of bass and guitar churn at the foundation of it.  It's a lot rougher and more visceral than I envisioned Stereolab to be.  I sort of picture a spaceship lifting off during a 1960s French rom.com, you know?

I have a nodding familiarity with Stereolab — pretty sure I saw them in 2006, interviewed Laeititia one time on a solo record, had one or two records at one point — but never really latched on in any committed way.  Gotta say, though, while I was listening to this stuff, I kept hearing other bands and thinking, damn, that's from Stereolab.  Winged Wheel, a whole bunch of Trouble in Mind bands (Dummy, En Attendant Ana) etc.  Their influence is undeniable. 

Jonathan Shaw: Funny, "churn" is a verb I also had in mind this morning, listening to "Contact" and getting lost, for like the zillionth time, in its drony flow.

Alex Johnson: Churn indeed, and I'd throw in "grind," too, for a track like "ABC" — although not so much the outro, which is cool in and of itself and, for me, a different sort of departure in a lo-fi singer-songwriter way. I'm most familiar with Mars Audiac Quintet, so hearing the grittier side of the band here is really expanding my sense of them.

Jonathan Shaw: Mars... is the last Stereolab record I really liked. Pretty great that one of the tunes there is named (sorta) after an Alfred Bester novel. Their pop cultural references are always spot-on, but when the band started getting more clever about working pop forms into their own music ("Outer Bongolia," for example, or "Jump Drive Shut-out"), for some reason it fell flat for me. I think I like the relative spareness and rigor of the early music, which created an interesting tension with the attentions to pop's consumerist, superficial pleasures. 

Bryon Hayes: Interesting, Jonathan, that Mars was the last album you liked.  It was actually my introduction to the band; my friend played me the album when I was a junior in high school and it instantly struck a chord, as it was anathema to the bratty, aggressively punk-influenced, indie rock that I was listening to at the time.  One thing that stood out at the time was that the comparatively softer-sounding nature of music (as opposed to what I was into before I heard this), and the sing-song vocal harmonies, belied the powerful ideology behind the lyrics.  Take the chorus of "Three-Dee Melodie," for example: "The meaning of existence / Can't be supplied by religion or ideology" repeated over and over again.  Such a powerful statement, and it raised a lot of questions in this Catholic schoolboy's mind.  

Over the years, I paid far more attention to the full-length LPs, so I'm pretty much hearing the songs from the Switched On series for the first time.  Right away, I definitely hear the "churn" and "grind" that Jenny and Alex refer to.  I hear it in the rapid-fire, almost motorik drumming and that thick, buzzy synth on "Super-Electric," from Switched On Volume 1.  The band knew how to balance propulsion, spaciness, and bounciness across their music. 

<Hours go by> 

OK, when you get to Aluminum Tunes, the songs seem to be more intricate, informed by French pop, exotica, and electronic weirdness.  I think this material came after the period in which Sean O'Hagan was a member, so I wonder if his influence has rubbed off on the band.  I like this phase of Stereolab equally, so it's neat to hear their evolution as the Switched On series progresses.

Christian Carey: I'll fess up to being the one geeking out to the whole boxed set. Sure, mileage varies, but I don't think there will ever be another Stereolab album. With the passing of Mary, there is no more band. So this is a chance to savor the band without any expectations. I am interested in their work in other contexts, much of it different from Stereolab.

Ian Mathers: "I know people who swear by one particular Stereolab LP or sound but have no interest or regard for the rest."

Hi, it's me! When I first got to university in 2000 there were these huge periodic used-CD sales that filled the courtyard of the student center for a few days at a time, and right after I moved into residence I picked up a battered CD copy of Emperor Tomato Ketchup for $4 (along with my first Fall album, Code: Selfish, but that's another story). I don't know how often others have the experience of falling hard for an album in a way that leaves you with virtually no desire to investigate further (which feels especially odd when it's a band who already has many other records out there), but despite my immediate and now long-lasting love for ETK it took me years to move beyond it. Well, I mean, I listened to Sound-Dust a few times when it came out but found it impenetrable and lacking most of what I loved about the earlier album, and that probably cooled my interest a fair bit. So far of the other records I've tried the only one I've also liked is Peng! Respect to Gane, Sadier, et al for following their muse, and I certainly know plenty who love more of what they do, but I've been pretty content to love a couple of Stereolab LPs and not the band as a whole.

So when Andrew asks "do we need this all together and all at once?" for me, at least, the answer on the face of it is definitely "no and no." But there is a reason the band have also put together Little Pieces of Stereolab (A Switched On Sampler), and I am definitely part of the target audience for it. I have read in the past how the first two Switched Ons, especially, are worth investigating for someone who likes Stereolab in the way that I do, and even if it's nearly 75 minutes long that still qualifies as just dipping your toe in when compared to the breadth (chronologically, sonically, and temporally) of the whole series.

The approach is as basic as you could expect, three tracks from volume. The "sampler" description is more than incidental; if this was any sort of potted "best of" you might expect the three tracks from Refried Ectoplasm to be "Lo Boob Oscillator," "French Disko," and "John Cage Bubblegum" instead of only the latter making the cut. It's paired with "Tone Burst (Country)" (clearly a bit of an outlier) and the wonderful "Tempter," which does make me think looking more closely into these early volumes might be worth my while. So does the whole selection from the original Switched On, "The Light That Will Cease to Fail," "Changer," and especially "Doubt" reminds me that my feelings of polite admiration rather than love for a lot of the Stereolab I've heard has as much to do with them moving away from a sound I really love as it does with the things (genres, sounds, structures, etc) they moved to being ones I'm not necessarily interested in.

And while I definitely tried to keep my mind and ears open for the rest of the sampler, I have to admit my visceral enjoyment of the proceedings fell off more than a bit when I hit the material from Aluminum Tunes and onwards. One big (in a couple of senses) exception is the 21-minute "Trippin' With the Birds," with Nurse With Wound, and I did go back and listen to the 13-minute "Animal or Vegetable (A Wonderful Wooden Reason...)" on the full Refried Ectoplasm, which also features Steven Stapleton doing whatever the hell he wants with their music. Both great, but the former especially feels out of step with its surroundings.

Hearing this condensed version of Stereolab's progression over the years does make me think that their increasing interest in and use of referents and sounds I find less immediately compelling has gone along with a change in their songwriting. Even back on Peng! you had tracks that seemed content to just bask in the beauty of the sound the band makes, but more recently it feels to me like there's an increasing emphasis on texture and atmosphere as opposed to, you know... song-ness. There's nothing at all wrong with that approach, and it's not that I think Stereolab started making bad music, it's just that there are a bunch of melodies, riffs, and choruses on their earlier work that I get stuck in my head, and the later stuff (at this point, most of their career) doesn't do that for me.

So I'm glad for the reason to dive back into Stereolab and see what I've been missing/how my reaction to their work might have changed, but I find I'm in roughly the spot I might have guessed I would be; I think I should check out the first two volumes of Switched On, and can probably pass on the rest (well, maybe give them a listen or two to cherry pick some of the stronger examples of their later work out of there...).’’

Jonathan Shaw: Ian, you may be happy to hear that when I saw the band in 2019 "Percolator" and especially "Metronomic Underground" were among the hottest songs in a hugely engaging set (tho "Miss Modular" left me cold, like the rest of Dots and Loops); hard to do "...Underground" without Mary Hansen, but they made it work. Sadier seemed to be having a great time playing, and while Gane and Co. looked like a group of Cinema Studies profs who'd just wandered out of an especially esoteric conference panel, the band cooked.

Agreed that the collabs with Stapleton are always interesting. "Simple Headphone Mind" is excellent comedown music, even for those of us that no longer actively eat psychedelics. The odd flashback, on the other hand...

Bill Meyer: Ian, I’m with you on the merits of Emperor Tomato Ketchup. While I was aware of Stereolab from 1992 on, to me that record was their peak. It was warm, punchy, and consistently catchy with some great stand-out tunes. Before that, they had great tunes stirred into too-long records. I checked my collection and it ends with a promo cdr of Sound Dust whose ability to still play I have not yet confirmed, but which I recall finding opaque and uncompelling at the time it was released. 

For me, Stereolab is a band that would have benefitted from something I suspect they would never have submitted to, which is a hard-nosed producer with veto power. It’s not that I only like the catchy hits; they made some great side-long tunes, too. But there’s a lot of Stereolab music that never quite comes into focus the way that Emperor Tomato Ketchup did, and as I have waded into the later Switched On material that is new to me, I don’t hear much that’s changing my mind. I also remember finding them uneven as a live band back in the day; Sometimes they could take me places, sometimes they were kind of dull. Thus when they reunited, I did not return to the well.

Ian Mathers: Funnily enough, Jonathan, I was actually thinking while listening to all this that despite my relatively lukewarm feelings towards most Stereolab LPs, I bet they hit pretty hard live. "Metronomic Underground" is easily my favorite song of theirs, and while modern ticket pricing suggests I'd be hasty to pay just for the chance to see that one, I am tempted. (Although I am taking on the other report, of live inconsistency, as well!)

Bill, "stirred into too-long records" is absolutely touching on one of my biggest roadblocks with most of the other pre-ETK albums. Peng! coming in at just under 48 minutes is secondary to how much I like "Super Falling Star," "The Seeming and the Meaning," etc. in my affection for it, but... it's a surprisingly close second. There are plenty of artists where I adore a good hour-plus album, or doubles or triples (or box sets), but Stereolab isn't one of theirs. I had the chance to review Chemical Chords, their last pre-hiatus LP, for the Village Voice at the time and although I don't think my piece was very good I did note approvingly at the time that they seem to have discovered concision in a way that worked for them. 14 tracks, sure, but an average length of just under three and a half minutes (and no epics)! That record is self produced, like everything after Sound-Dust. And on earlier records Stereolab is almost always listed as a co-producer, which isn't surprising; they feel like a band both capable of and willing to exert a certain level of control over that production. Emperor Tomato Ketchup and Dots and Loops had John McEntire working with them (Mouse on Mars' Andi Toma too, on the latter), and then Jim O'Rourke joined McEntire for the next couple. But even on the few ones where Stereolab isn't listed as co-producing, "The Groop" is usually down as mixing. So more than a lot of bands, it seems they're pretty hands-on with the post-performance stuff.

I agree that Stereolab working with a strong producer would be interesting. The question is, who do we think would be a good fit and/or introduce some interesting tensions into their work? I think between his work with Mogwai, Low, and Mercury Rev it might be interesting to see what Dave Fridmann would be like.

Bill Meyer: I suspect that ship has passed. The band might get back together to play the old songs, which makes sense since people love ‘em and Stereolab is a much bigger and more compensatory draw than anything that Gane or Sadier do on their own. But the couple has been divorced for quite a while, and if they’ve been able to make anything together since reuniting in 2019, I don’t know about it. I doubt that the rapport and creative chemistry they once had still exists. I think that what they needed was not someone with a particular sound, but someone who could have combined an ability to facilitate their sound production and respect for their intentions with a readiness to say, “that song needs to be better before you put it on a record.” 

Ian Mathers: That's a much harder quality to spot from the outside, I guess. Also, I apparently forgot they were divorced (or, quite frankly, that they were married)!

Jonathan Shaw: Old songs and the reunion tour — those are always an anxious coupling. One wonders about intentions. But the old songs that crop up on the later editions of Switched On are a treat. I really like the Low Fi EP, which was Hansen's first record with the band and appeared on Pulse of the Early Brain, the most recent Switched On. "(Varoom!)" feels a bit like a demo version of "Revox," a great track from Refried Ectoplasm. But I like the stretched out and distended quality of "(Varoom!)." It's too long, a little unwieldy, not a trance-inducing drone or a dance marathon. Just a groove the band couldn't seem to let go of, which then bottoms out into an extended, abrasive slurry. I don't know if that functions as a sort of metaphor for this collection, but there are similarities with qualities we have already marked: too long; unwieldy. For all that, and even with my own lack of clarity for why these records have been bundled in this collected set (left-handed career retrospective? cash generator? vanity project?), it's been deeply pleasurable to revisit some of these songs. 

Ian Mathers: Interestingly enough, "(Varoom)" is from one of two early EPs not included in the Bandcamp version of these compilations, due to "digital licensing restrictions." I think it's because they were on Too Pure instead of the band's own Duophonic imprint; so were their first two LPs and the original Switched On comp (which you can order from but not stream on BC) but the rest of Switched On presumably made it in because Too Pure were just licensing those tracks themselves. Regardless "(Varoom)" is great (both halves; if anything I find that more aimless second part a bit more compelling, weirdly) and exactly the kind of thing I wouldn't have listened through all of these to get to without some signposting from others.

Christian Carey: What's interesting to me in listening to Stereolab is that the evolution of their work, at least in some ways, mirrors the technical resources available to contemporaneous artists, particularly other electronica. Their palette morphs. Does anyone else notice that?

Bryon Hayes: I definitely notice it on Dots and Loops, where John McEntire introduced the band to ProTools and Andi Toma added electronic wizardry to their already eclectic sound world.

Jonathan Shaw: "(Varoom!)" is a fun title, but also gets at something I have been thinking about as I have been listening. Varoom! It's like 1980s kids quoting from The Jetsons, an ironized imitation of the sound of propulsion that hasn't lost its grip on the fact that ironies can be fun. I like the Stereolab songs from that early-1990s period: pre-Internet, pre-file sharing, crate-diggers grooving on French vinyl and bossa nova sides, Farfisa organs and mid-1960s aesthetics linked to the analog tech that was the material real. I listen and I think about this from Fredric Jameson, from his long essay on Adorno in Marxism and Form: "as in the larger world of business and industry, we find a tiny history of inventions and machines, what might be called the engineering dimension of musical history: that of the instruments themselves, which stand in the same ambiguous relationship of cause and effect to the development of the works and forms as do their technological equivalents (the steam engine) in the world of history at large (the industrial revolution). They arrive on the scene with a kind of symbolic fitness."

Flash forward ten years. The dot-com bubble had burst. Napster was suddenly a thing. A song like "Dimension M2" sounds like an mp3, brittle and crystalline, the chiptune-ish freakout at the song's midpoint emptying into digital groove that's so slick you can't even feel it passing. It has a symbolic fitness, sounding very much like 2005. But there's no resistance in it, no ironies either buoyant or bitter. It's interesting (if a bit of a bummer, for this listener) to tune into the historical dimension. So much changed in music as Stereolab moved from Duophonic to Elektra. So did their sound.

Andrew Forell: Going back to Ian’s post, I’ve been thinking of Stereolab as a kind of Venn diagram of musical influences that I either like, have been momentarily interested in or I’ve been led to explore more deeply. My first real engagement was with Refried Ectoplasm (Vol 2) when the combination of VU garage & Neu! adjacent (or let’s be honest — idolatry�� “Jenny Odioline “ which is great but basically “Fur Immer”) crossed with non-English pop was very interesting to me. Having been a fan of Gane’s band McCarthy & and an old leftie, the addition of the Situationalist lyrics was great.  And yes to Jonathan, that pre-internet time when you discovered stuff through a serendipitous combination of other band’s liner notes, mags, record store peeps  friends & whatever unexplained oddities you found at the back of your parent’s record collection (hello Herb Alpert, Gainsbourg, an early 1960s album of “cocktail party” music & some early 70s Moog music) that led you down weird byways. All of that is to say that for all their musical cul de sacs, they’ve always appealed; although I haven’t loved everything, they have always been a band felt an affinity with.  

[allergictocolor]

Character Profile - Grandmama…Addams?

"This disrespectful old hag is the mother of Gomez (husband of Morticia). She willingly helps with the dishes, cheats at solitaire and is thoroughly dishonest. She, too, is a favorite with the children and will make them cookies in the shape of bats, skulls and bones. Good humored about all and can be garrulous. The complexion is dark, the hair is white and frizzy and uncombed. She has a light beard and a large mole. She wears a shawl on all occasions, thick socks and fleece slippers under a bombazine skirt." - Chas Addams

garrulous - adjective: excessively talkative in a rambling, roundabout manner, especially about trivial matters

bombazine - noun: a heavy, dense fabric woven of silk and wool, used largely for mourning wear in 16th century and 17th century Europe

As part of his ongoing theme of the macabre and bizarre, Charles Addams drew some witches who weren’t Grandmama:

When he did draw her, she was almost always with other members of the family:

He originally wrote Grandmama as “Granny Frump”, Gomez’s mother. Their familial connection was obvious from their appearance. The producers of the 60s TV show decided to keep her as Gomez’s mother, but to make Frump be Morticia’s maiden name. Granny Frump, who was played by Margaret Hamilton and appeared in just three episodes of the sitcom, was given the first name Hester. I can find no record of Grandmama, who was in all 64 episodes of the show, having a first name. She was simply referred to as Grandmama, Grandma, or Mama, depending on who was speaking to her.

She is just as full of mischief as the rest of the family, if not more. She and Fester are frequently in cahoots, and their meddling with the lives of the other family members provides the occasional plot for sitcom hi-jinks. However, she is mostly a background character. That’s probably a good thing, since a little of her mischief goes a long way. When she makes yak stew, it turns Gomez into a sleepwalking cat burglar. When Fester reads an article about how only couples who fight are in stable relationships, she helps him try to push Gomez and Morticia to fight, and it wreaks havoc in the household. 

Grandmama is an actual witch, and has real magical power in the show. She creates potions, like “love dust”, which is of dubious effectiveness. Most notably, she uses a crystal ball to see the future. Others don’t always believe her predictions, but they are accurate. In one episode, she’s arrested for fortune telling, which is (or at least was) illegal in their state. Rather than pay the ten dollar fine, Gomez decides to represent her in court as Gomez “The Great Loophole” Addams. Everything that happens from there is, of course, ridiculous. What else would you expect?

Her place on the family tree is shaken up over the years. In the 1992 animated series, she’s Granny Frump, Morticia’s mother once again. In the 1990s movies, she Morticia’s mother. The third film (a low-budget, direct-to-video movie from 1998), names her Esmeralda. She’s played by a different actress in all three movies. It’s not so strange that a different person was cast in the third film, as nearly all the parts were recast. But it is strange that she was recast for the 1993 sequel. It turns out that Judith Malina, who played her in 1991, made an off-color joke about the war and flag burning, and that was enough for everyone else to not want to work with her anymore. She was replaced with Carol Kane, who you may recognize from The Princess Bride. 

In the 1998 TV series, The New Addams Family, she’s Gomez’s mother again, and her first name is Eudora. The Broadway musical pokes fun at Grandmama’s nebulous status by making her possibly not even be part of the family. Morticia thinks she’s Gomez’s mother, and vice versa. They just laugh about it. Anyone weird enough could probably just start living in the Addams’ mansion and say they’re a cousin, and the family would just accept them without question. In the 2019 animated movie, Grandmama is Gomez’s mother, and has a long-running feud with Auntie Sloom.

While she has not shown up in the Netflix Wednesday series yet, Joanna Lumley has been cast as Grandmama for the second season. It had not been announced whose mother she’s going to be, but odds are good that she’ll be playing Morticia’s mother. Lumley is British, and best known for the show Absolutely Fabulous, which ran from 1992 to 2012 but only had 39 episodes. (British TV is different from American TV in so many ways.) She has a pale complexion more in common with Catherine Zeta-Jones, and is 5’8” tall. Luis Guzmán is Puerto Rican and 5’5” tall, and would be unlikely to have a white, tall mother.

Seeing how the main premise of Wednesday is that society is divided into supernatural creatures and normal humans, it’s safe to assume that Grandmama will have supernatural powers. She has historically been able to predict that future, so it’s no big stretch to also assume that she will have that power in the show. The character Goody Addams is an ancestor from colonial times, and had that ability. Wednesday most likely inherited it from both sides of the family. It’s even possible that both Gomez and Morticia are descended from Goody. As for what Grandmama can do, we’ll have to wait until some time in 2025 to find out.

[paginate54]

Dave Lewis, LZ chronicler, on Robert's performance of Stairway. From Led Zeppelin Celebration Days FB page:

Some personal thoughts on this performance of Stairway To Heaven...

There was something profoundly moving watching the YouTube footage of Robert Plant performing Stairway To Heaven at the Andy Taylor concert.

This was the first live public airing of the song since the Led Zeppelin 02 Reunion on December 10 2007.

Before I delve in to this subject, Robert’s entire appearance was captivating. Thank you delivered with much emotion, Black Dog hammed up brilliantly and the version of Season of the Witch segueing into a reprise of Black Dog lyrics and Buffalo Springfield’s For What it’s Worth – as in the LA Forum 1970 Blueberry Hill bootleg.

Incidentally, bassist on the night Guy Pratt noted that he has now performed Black Dog with both Robert and Jimmy Page – he was part of the touring band on the Coverdale Page Japan visit in late 1993. The band line up on the night consisted of the aforementioned Guy, former Reef guitarist Kenwyn House (wearing a dragon patterned shirt shades of Jimmy perhaps), Rod Stewart’s drummer David Palmer, Andy Taylor plus Andy Taylor’s son Andy J Taylor on guitar, singer Anne Rani and musician Dino Jelusick on keyboard and backing vocals.

So back to Stairway To Heaven...

We have all had a journey with this song over the years. Mine commenced on April 4 1971 when I heard it on my radio listening to Led Zeppelin’s BBC In Concert performance on Radio One’s John Peel show. I’d heard Jimmy in an interview describing how it had come together in various sections building to a climax. Sure enough this tentative version did just that.

I first saw it performed live on Sunday November 21 1971 at the Empire Pool Wembley – an extraordinary night. It was of course one of the stand out tracks on their just released fourth album.

It went to attain legendary status – the most played record on American radio and from 1975 the rightful finale to every Led Zeppelin live performance.

Like many of their songs the arrangement was often toyed with, not least by the singer who over time added many an ad - lib to the lyrics. As it was performed on every Led Zep show, this enabled the song to retain a freshness.

The first ad-lib I recall was when he inserted the line ''you are the children of the sun'' during the version to be heard on the classic bootleg Going To California from their performance in Berkeley on September 14 1971. From 1973 onwards 'Does anybody remember laughter?‘’ was an expected insert after the line ‘’and the forest will echo with laughter.’’

By 1975, Robert had changed the line ‘’your stairway’’ to ‘’our stairway’’ adding the line ‘’that’s all we got.’’ As I witnessed in awe from the side of the stage during their 1980 Over Europe performances , Robert added ‘’I keep chopin’ and changin'’’ as they led into the climax.

Post Zep, Robert has sang Stairway To Heaven’’ it a mere four times – at Live Aid in 1985, the Atlantic 40th anniversary show in 1988, a sweet truncated version with Jimmy Page in a TV studio in Japan in 1994 and at the Led Zeppelin O2 tribute concert for Ahmet Ertegun where he proclaimed after the song ‘’Ahmet we did it!’’

Well now he has done it again….

The obvious question is why now and why on this occasion?

There’s no doubt it was a special occasion being a concert staged by the ex - Duran Duran guitarist Andy Taylor. Andy has had serious cancer health issues and staged this concert in aid of Cancer Awareness Trust.

As well as performing on the night, Robert donated his personal gold disc of Led Zeppelin IV for the auction –as he put it ''our not so difficult fourth album.'' A part of this was featured on the video stream and it had clocked an initial £50,000 bid.“I love this music and I still love it now very much although I get a bit coy and shy when I have to go near it because it was such a long time ago,” he said.

In an interview with Led Zep News guitarist Kenwyn House revealed that Robert Plant chose to perform Stairway To Heaven after a wealthy donor agreed to donate a six-figure sum to charity if he did so.

So, a special occasion deems a special song for a very worthy cause.

It says everything for Robert’s ease with the Zep legacy, that he could perform this once millstone around his neck with such dignity.

As we know Stairway To Heaven became much maligned and a victim of much parody – and let’s not mention that farcical version by a disgraced not so all round entertainer.

Although he was quick to decry it in the immediate post Zep years, I happen to think Robert is rightly proud of the song, as he is the whole Zep legacy.

Who can forget his tearful reaction to the Wilson sisters and Jason’s performance at the Kennedy Honours in 2012?

So, with none of the pressure of performing it on a big stage and at a pressurised Zep related occasion, he was able to slot it in at this charity event with little fuss.

It worked majestically….

With an ad- hoc line up with few rehearsals, the arrangement was always going to be more loose than tight. That mattered little, as his vocal phrasing was absolutely spot on and what a joy it was to hear him sing this song with a calm control. Some subtle backing vocals aided the tranquil mood.

Here’s the thing – Robert Plant sang it as though he really meant it – confident in his skin at revisiting a major part of his past. Looking good with the mic off held in that familiar pose we know so well.

I wonder what was going through his mind? I know for me it prompted so many precious memories.

There were no ad-libs this time in what was out a fairly straight rendering – the guitar solo was neat and compact and they were back in for the grand finale. Here, Robert slowed things down and the key with it avoiding any strained vocals and he even sang the last section ‘’To be a rock and not to roll’’ for a second time – making it a unique arrangement. He did retain the ''our Stairway'' sentiment.

It was also unique for being the only time he has performed Stairway To Heaven without Jimmy Page...

The final ‘’and she’s buying’’ line was delivered with a delicate finesse – watching it prompted some instant flashbacks.

Momentarily I was back at Earls Court as the mirrorballs spun above them, back in that field just outside Stevenage when they came back to reclaim their crown (''so many people who've helped us over the years - no more people more important than yourselves who who came here on a blind date -this is for you all of yer'') and at home in 1985 watching the TV as the camera panned out to 90,00 watching them re group in Philadelphia for Live Aid.

I also thought about all the much missed friends and Zep comrades who are no longer around to enjoy this special moment...

All that was enough to prompt a huge lump in my throat and a tear in my eye.

Then Robert really sealed it.

Firstly he dedicated the performance to Andy:

“I know that in this contemporary age of digital stuff there’s every likelihood that other people will see that,” he said, facing Taylor. “So if they do, I offer it up to you and your success and to the whole deal that has happened here today and the future of it all.

And also so it’s not just that, I offer it up to Led Zeppelin, wherever they are”

Andy Taylor replied ‘’God bless ‘em there’s a lot of drummers in the sky we love.’’

Let's ponder on that statement...

''I offer this up to Led Zeppelin wherever they are''

It felt like he was giving the song back to his former bandmates and back to his audience – To the privileged few who were lucky enough to witness this special occasion and beyond that to countless fans like me and you.

Deep in the heart of the Cotswold's on an October Saturday evening Robert reclaimed a major part of his history and ours.

It’s likely he may never ever sing Stairway To Heaven this song again and if he doesn’t, it’s had a suitably poignant send off.

There was none of the pressure of the previous post Led Zep performances. It happened for a great cause and for a great fellow Midlands based musician.

I am aiming to be up in the Midlands in a few days’ time for the Saving Grace featuring Suzi Dian gig at the Birmingham Symphony Hall.

I am eagerly looking forward to it, not least after witnessing the YouTube video of this Andy Taylor tribute. For at 75 he is singing so brilliantly and his enjoyment as to where he is at in these advancing years is both inspiring and infectious.

Knowing that Robert Plant is at one with Led Zeppelin’s most famous song makes it all just a little bit more comforting.

As the song states ‘’If you listen very hard the tune will come to you at last’’

I’m still listening to Robert Plant intensely – as are countless others…

Dave Lewis - October 27 2023

[justforbooks]

Ioanna "Nana" Mouskouri OQ (Greek: Ιωάννα "Νάνα" Μούσχουρη born 13 October 1934) is a Greek singer and politician. Over the span of her career, she has released over 200 albums in at least thirteen languages, including Greek, French, English, German, Dutch, Portuguese, Italian, Japanese, Spanish, Hebrew, Welsh, Mandarin Chinese and Corsican.

Mouskouri became well known throughout Europe for the song "The White Rose of Athens", recorded first in German as "Weiße Rosen aus Athen" as an adaptation of her Greek song "Σαν σφυρίξεις τρείς φορές" (San sfyríxeis tris forés, "When you whistle three times"). It became her first record to sell over one million copies.

Later in 1963, she represented Luxembourg at the Eurovision Song Contest with the song "À force de prier". Her friendship with the composer Michel Legrand led to the recording by Mouskouri of the theme song of the Oscar-nominated film The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. From 1968 to 1976, she hosted her own TV show produced by BBC, Presenting Nana Mouskouri. Her popularity as a multilingual television personality and distinctive image, owing to the then unusual signature black-rimmed glasses, turned Mouskouri into an international star.

"Je chante avec toi Liberté", recorded in 1981, is perhaps her biggest hit to date, performed in at least five languages – French, English as "Song for Liberty", German as "Lied der Freiheit", Spanish as "Libertad" and Portuguese as "Liberdade". "Only Love", a song recorded in 1985 as the theme song of TV series Mistral's Daughter, gained worldwide popularity along with its other versions in French (as "L'Amour en Héritage"), Italian (as "Come un'eredità"), Spanish (as "La dicha del amor"), and German (as "Aber die Liebe bleibt"). It became her only UK hit single when it reached number two in February 1986.

Mouskouri became a spokesperson for UNICEF in 1993 and was elected to the European Parliament as a Greek deputy from 1994 to 1999.

In 2006 she was a special guest on Eurovision Song Contest 2006's final, presented as the best selling artist of all time.

In 2015, she was awarded the Echo Music Prize for Outstanding achievements by the German music association Deutsche Phono-Akademie.

Mouskouri has been married twice: first at age 25, to Yorgos (George) Petsilas, a guitarist in her backing band (the trio "The Athenians") They had two children (Nicolas Petsilas in 1968 and Hélène (Lénou) Petsilas in 1970) but divorced when Mouskouri was 39. Not long after that, she started a relationship with her record producer André Chapelle, but they did not marry then because she "didn't want to bring another man into the family" and divorce was against her conservative upbringing. They eventually married on January 13, 2003, and live primarily in Switzerland.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[randomvarious]

Haddaway - "What Is Love" (Live at ZDF Pop Show Festival, Dortmund, Germany) 1993 Eurodance / Eurohouse / Dance-Pop

I think this is the best performance by Trinidadian-German singer Haddaway of his biggest hit that I've managed to come across so far. "What Is Love" was such a Eurodance revelation when radio stations and record labels across Europe finally relented and decided to pick it up. It was a totally catchy club banger, but it was also suitable for a contemporary hit radio format too, and that overall versatility appears to be what allowed it to become so ubiquitous on multiple continents.

So, here's Haddaway rocking it in this packed German venue, back when his debut hit was still one of the biggest songs in the world at the time. The stage is surrounded by revelers on nearly all sides, making him and the rest of his ensemble a literal center of attention. And his dancers are putting the work in too, as you can see in one overhead shot where their movements are shaking the stage!

This whole Haddaway set was so good. Here's another video from the same 1993 show where he performed his second biggest hit, "Life," which was even more of a spectacle than this one.

More fun videos here.

[lboogie1906]

Ketty Lester (Revoyda Frierson; August 16, 1934) is a singer and actress known for her hit single “Love Letters”, which reached the top 5 of the charts in the US and the UK. She is known for her role in the television series Little House on the Prairie.

She was born Revoyda Frierson in Hope, Arkansas. Her parents were farmers who would eventually have a total of 15 children. As a young child, she first sang in her church, and later in school choirs. She won a scholarship to study music at San Francisco State College. She began performing under the name “Ketty Lester” in the city’s Purple Onion Club. She toured Europe and South America as a singer with Cab Calloway’s orchestra.

She appeared as a contestant on You Bet Your Life, hosted by Groucho Marx.

She recorded her first single, “Queen for a Day”, for the Everest label. In 1961 they released her single “Love Letters” b/w “I’m a Fool to Want You”. She recorded an album of Christian music entitled I Saw Him in 1984.

By the early 1970s, she gave up singing commercially and turned to acting. She was reportedly offered the role taken by Diahann Carroll in Julia and appeared in a variety of movies, including Uptight (1968), Blacula (1972), Uptown Saturday Night (1974), and The Prisoner of Second Avenue (1975).

She established herself as a television actress in the 1970s and 1980s, playing the roles of Helen Grant on Days of Our Lives (1975–77) and as Hester-Sue Terhune on Little House on the Prairie (1977–83), as well as making appearances on other television shows and movies, including The Night the City Screamed (1980). She recorded an album of Christian music entitled I Saw Him in 1984, and returned to films with roles in Street Knight (1993) and as Aunt Lucy in House Party 3 (1994). #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #sigmagammarho

[is-she-suffering]

11/2000 Alternative Press - Crispin Gray interview

QUEEN ADREENA

WHO > Guitarist Crispin Gray and singer Katie Gartside [sic] were the braintrust behind post-punk glam-slammers Daisy Chainsaw, arguably one of Britain’s most exuberant acts. They recorded a driving album for A&M (1991’s Eleventeen) before Gartside [sic] got fed up with the constant in-fighting and quit in 1993. Gray and the remaining members hobbled around for a couple years, changing the name to Dizzy Q. Viper before imploding in 1997. In 1998, Gartside [sic] and Gray frequently ran into each other in London  and decided to make music together again.

SOUND LIKE > Gray’s Killing Joke-meets-T. Rex guitar work is still furious, but it’s not the only weapon in the Queen’s court. Gartside [sic] can still babble like a Tourette’s-stricken Yoko Ono, but prefers to deliver powerful vocal performances and hushed dynamics Liz Fraser would kill for. American drummer Billy Freedom and bassist Orson Wajih round out the quartet.

WHAT’S NEXT > The band did three showcase dates in America last year and are expected to sign a U.S. deal shortly. They are currently working on their second album.

SUGGESTED LISTENING >>> Taxidermy (BLANCO Y NEGRO UK)

CRISPIN GRAY GETS BEHIND ROCK’S NEW ROYALTY

So is the creative team of Gray and Gartside [sic] the classic co-dependent relationship? Absolutely! Both of us thought, “Well, we don’t ideally want to work with each other, but we probably should, otherwise life is just going to go by.” We both knew that by working together we were more likely to cause a stir [in the music scene]. We still fight like mad, but we’re far enough down the line that we just say, “Let’s get on with it.”

While there’s energy on Taxidermy, it’s not as manic as Daisy Chainsaw. Was that a conscious decision? It was from Katie’s angle. She fought against my heavy guitar stuff, but I think that came from the two of us trying to learn how to write together. We were struggling to figure each other out in the songwriting department. It’s not quite as unhinged as Daisy Chainsaw, but I expect the next record to be more full-on than Taxidermy.

Was reuniting with Kate [sic] a reaction against the state of British music? There doesn’t seem to be a lot of great rock music from England like there was 10 years ago. We were pissed off with the mediocrity of it. Britpop wasn’t very interesting for me, either. That was England slapping itself on the back and saying how great that our new bands sound like the Beatles, the Kinks and the Who. Now that that’s not there anymore, music fans are looking at heavy rock. Melody Maker even looks like Kerrang! now. Except Kerrang!’s writers are genuine music fans.

When you play live, who are the Queen’s subjects? Most of them are young people wearing T-shirts of American rock bands. When we opened for Incubus in England, people threw things at us, but in the rest of Europe, the crowds were really responsive. I think there’s this huge divide between America and England at the moment - other than Britney Spears and the Spice Girls.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Jeff Buckley “was creating something bigger than the song”

Buckley's friends and collaborators tell the full story of his rise

ByTom Pinnock

13th November 2015

In 1993, Jeff Buckley released his first EP: four songs, played live and alone, that introduced an extraordinary new talent to the musical world. Soon, he would create a debut album, Grace, that suggested he could do anything. Buckley, however, wasn’t so sure: “Jeff,” says his best friend, “was incredibly insecure about everything.” From tribute shows for his father, through the clubs, record labels and studios of New York and London, to the salons of his heroes, Jimmy Page and the Cocteau Twins, Uncut charts the tempestuous first moves of a lost legend. Eternal life guaranteed… Story: David Cavanagh. Originally published in Uncut’s June 2013 issue (Take 193).

Jeff Buckley’s Grace tour lasted 21 months, visited Europe four times, racked up almost 150 North American dates and finally ended on March 1, 1996 in Sydney. The venue was a picturesque spot for the last goodbye: a club in a seaside hotel overlooking Coogee Beach. Among those there was Belinda Barrett, a 26-year-old producer for a Sydney film company, who’d become a Buckley fan the year before.

“Jeff’s two tours of Australia were a life-defining time for me and many others,” Barrett says today. “Jeff was someone you wanted to become a devotee of, and I did. He had incredibly loyal followers who really connected with his essence and spirit.” She remembers looking around at gigs and seeing people gaping in astonishment at the stage. Two years on the road had honed Buckley’s setlist into a hypnotic, invocatory, near-holy performance. “There were moments of coalescence in Australia,” recalls his drummer Matt Johnson, “when new worlds in music felt like they were being glimpsed. Moments I’ll remember until my dying breath.”

Buckley was in good humour at the Coogee Bay Hotel’s aftershow party. Belinda Barrett asked him for his autograph. “Steely balance,” he wrote, adding: “Patti Smith”. But behind the smiles, the long tour had taken its toll. Johnson, suffering from exhaustion and depression, was leaving the group; he’d complained bitterly about the ravages of the “rock machine”. Under contract to Columbia, a Sony label, Buckley had committed to one of the most gruelling itineraries of the MTV-dominated ’90s. The promotional conveyor belt stretched from Paris to Perth, and Buckley had had to learn when to acquiesce and when to resist. It may be one explanation why “steely balance” – a phrase more befitting a wine list – popped into his head as he was approached for an autograph.

“We always said to him, ‘If it gets overwhelming, let’s take a breath,’” says Paul Rappaport, Sony’s former vice-president of artist development. “But you have to understand, people at the company were constantly fighting over him. ‘He’s got to go to France next.’ ‘No, he’s got to go to Australia!’”  The conveyor belt paused; a Sydney hiatus in a New York story that had begun five years earlier.

It was a tale straight out of Dick Whittington. Buckley’s first visit to New York, in 1990, had ended with the 23-year-old Southern Californian fleeing Manhattan in despair after being accused of shoplifting. But in the spring of ’91, the bells coaxed him back. A phone call from Brooklyn invited him to sing at a tribute concert for his father, a man he’d hardly known. This time his arrival in the city would have an impact. Soon everyone from Marianne Faithfull to Allen Ginsberg would hear about him.

Held in a Brooklyn Episcopal church, “Greetings From Tim Buckley” was Jeff’s equivalent of a debutante’s coming-out party. He sang four of his father’s songs in the familiar Buckley vocal tone and range, dumbfounding anyone who’d presumed Tim’s multi-octave voice to be unique. The key moment came in “I Never Asked To Be Your Mountain” when the lighting designer projected Jeff’s head onto a stained glass wall at the rear of the church. It was, says the show’s producer Hal Willner, something akin to a visitation from Jesus. After that, there seemed little to keep Jeff in Los Angeles.

“He became a sponge of New York culture,” says Willner, who took him under his wing. “He jumped into the arty circle initially. I took him to see the Mingus Big Band at the Vanguard, and another night he went to see Sun Ra.” Buckley based himself in the Lower East Side, where he found “a village of freaks like himself” (in the words of actor-musician Michael Tighe, who would later join his band) and lived a monastic existence, burning incense and contemplating a small Bodhisattva on his windowsill. “People who were attracted to New York were not of the norm,” Willner adds. “They came here because of what they could do, which they couldn’t do anywhere else.”

Buckley cut his hair short and sang in Gods And Monsters, a virtuoso raga-rock outfit led by former Captain Beefheart guitarist Gary Lucas. At first, the collaboration was fruitful. Buckley wrote lyrics for a pair of Lucas instrumentals (“And You Will”, “Rise Up To Be”), turning them into “Mojo Pin” and “Grace”. Lucas, angling to sign Gods And Monsters to the BMG-financed Imago Records, envisaged success on a grand scale. Buckley – 14 years his junior – was his final jigsaw piece, his Robert Plant, his Jim Morrison. Gods And Monsters organised a March ’92 showcase gig at the same Brooklyn church where Buckley had honoured his father a year before.

“I was so pissed off at Gary,” remembers Kate Hyman, an Imago Records A&R executive. “Jeff was amazing – you could tell he was a star. But every time he came to the front of the stage, Gary would jump in front of him and play all over him.” Buckley began to feel mismatched with Lucas but was unwilling to confront him, a typical trait according to friends. The band’s bassist, Tony Maimone, proved easier to confide in. “He says, ‘Y’know, Tony, I’m not sure if I’m gonna continue with this,’” Maimone recalls. “It was a little bittersweet. He was kind and gentle, but I got the impression we weren’t going to be playing with him for much longer. He had his own vision to pursue.”

Steve Abbott, a New York-based Englishman who owned a London indie label (Big Cat), saw Gods And Monsters play in a club. Abbott immediately identified Buckley as their most interesting member. “He looked quite sulky and moody, whereas Gary was very in-your-face. Jeff came back on at the end and did a song by himself. It was one of those moments where you haven’t quite heard anything like it. It didn’t fit into any musical format. I spoke to him later and he told me he had some gigs at a place called Sin-é.”

Anyone who attended Buckley’s concert at London’s Shepherd’s Bush Empire on March 4, 1995 will remember the dreadlocked black man who walked onstage to duet with him on “What Will You Say”. His name is Chris Dowd and he’d like to delete that night from his memory (not to mention from YouTube) – he admits that he was horribly drunk. Dowd, a founder member of LA ska band Fishbone, was one of Buckley’s closest friends. After Dowd left Fishbone, he and Jeff lived together for a time in New York, Dowd fielding phone calls for Jeff while he was out. “It would be Chrissie Hynde or Elvis Costello. ‘Hello, is Jeff there? Tell him Elvis called.’ ‘Er, OK.’”

Buckley had become the darling of Sin-é. Sin-é was a café in the East Village run by an Irishman (its name, pronounced “shin-ay”, is Irish for “that’s it”). It had a small bar and no stage. Buckley appeared at Sin-é almost every week in 1992, leaning against a wall and singing, accompanying himself on a Telecaster plugged into a little Fender amp. It was casual and informal (nobody paid to get in), but the customers agreed that something extraordinary happened when he sang. His voice, which he was modifying all the time, was sensual and gender-ambiguous. It could make people cry. It could make them feel elated. It could – and he would insist on this – eliminate conversation from the room. He alluded to his Sin-é period in a 1995 interview with Melbourne’s RRR radio station: “What I’m trying to do is just sing what comes to my body in the context of the song. And if you go by the emotion of the song, it’s almost like stepping into a city. Cities have certain customs and rules and laws you can break, and that’s what I was doing.”

“He would do mostly covers,” Michael Tighe told Uncut in 2007. “Nina Simone. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. I was very impressed with his knowledge. I thought he had really good taste. What really sent me was when I heard him do ‘Hallelujah’. That’s when I felt I was in the presence of genius. That made me see white flashes.” Buckley had heard Leonard Cohen’s hymn-like “Hallelujah” in a version performed by John Cale on a Cohen tribute album. It had become a feature of Jeff’s floating Sin-é repertoire – “Strange Fruit”, The Smiths’ “I Know It’s Over”, Bob Dylan, Edith Piaf – which grew by the week.

“I remember him opening once with ‘Sweet Thing’ from Astral Weeks and closing with ‘The Way Young Lovers Do’ from the same album,” remarks Nicholas Hill, a radio DJ for New Jersey’s WFMU. “To have the gall even to attempt something from Astral Weeks – usually that doesn’t go over great. But this guy could reinterpret songs, sing them completely differently every time. He was investigating where they could take him. He was creating something bigger than the song. For the first three minutes, you wouldn’t even know what the song was.”

Transported but relaxed, Buckley would talk, do impersonations, comment on what the clientele was wearing (“Nice sandals”) and sing adverts and jingles that he remembered from his childhood. “The motherfucker was so funny,” says Chris Dowd. “He was like… if somebody took Lenny Bruce and Jim Carrey and mixed them into one person. A really dark sense of humour combined with an incredible ability to mimic everything. He had a photographic memory for music.” Nicholas Hill concurs: “Everyone was drawn to Jeff’s personality. He was extremely magnetic and charismatic. Men fell in love with him. Women felt he was their future husband. It was just like, ‘Holy shit, this is a major dude.’ There was just no denying it.”

“Sin-é was this teeny little place with a couple of tables and chairs,” says Kate Hyman, “but it was a magical, fun time because there was no pressure. I was an A&R person, but I was enjoying listening to Jeff and not having to think about the business.” Steve Abbott of Big Cat, who lived a two-minute walk from Sin-é, chatted to Buckley one night and was intrigued to find they shared a love of The Groundhogs – as well as a taste for Guinness. Abbott said he’d like to do a record deal. Hyman, too, wanted to sign Jeff to Imago at some point. But things were moving quickly. One night Hal Willner showed up at Sin-é with a friend named Steve Berkowitz, an A&R man for the major label Columbia.

Abbott: “I left New York to go touring with Pavement, who were on my label. Within the week and a half that I was away, the record industry discovered Jeff Buckley. He now had a lawyer. There was one ridiculous night where I saw three limos outside Sin-é. You didn’t see limos in the East Village. This was when we still had muggings and killings, before the area was gentrified. I couldn’t even get in the door of Sin-é. I kept getting pushed back out again.”

Hyman: “When the limos started showing up, it was funny and silly and none of us took it seriously. But suddenly there was a bidding war. I was in there for a minute, but I was at a small label and there was no way we were going to beat out the majors.” There was another stumbling block for Imago that Hyman is slightly reluctant to reveal. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now,” she says. “My boss, Terry Ellis – I took him to see Jeff and his comment was, ‘He’s really good, but he has no charisma.’ He actually said that. Really.”

Buckley’s Sin-é apprenticeship didn’t end in formal goodbyes – he appeared there many more times, including a gig with his band shortly before recording Grace – but the innocence had been lost. “His initial crowd were disappointed because they couldn’t see him in a club with eight other people,” says Willner wryly. It was too late. The cat was out of the bag.

Buckley signed with Columbia Records on October 29, 1992. The lure was a promise of artistic freedom, but their historic catalogue (Dylan, Springsteen, Cohen, Cash) inevitably influenced his decision. It took Sony’s Paul Rappaport all of five minutes at Sin-é – Buckley was singing a Van Morrison song at the time – to be convinced that Jeff was potentially a figure of equal stature.

Rappaport: “Donny Ienner [Columbia president] said to him, ‘I know you’re getting offered more money by Clive Davis [Arista] but I’m not going to give it to you, because it’ll mess your head up. I’ll give you half of that, and I’ll make a deal that we won’t pressure you.’” Sure enough, the first thing Columbia did after signing Buckley was… absolutely nothing. They left him alone for months. A hands-off policy was regarded as essential to his development.

“He still hadn’t written many songs,” Rappaport points out. “We had no idea, really, whether he could write or not.”

Brenda Kahn, a ‘punk-folk’ singer-songwriter on a Sony label called Chaos, was introduced to Buckley by her A&R man. She and Jeff giggled at the multi-million-dollar Manhattan world they’d accidentally infiltrated. “We both felt like, ‘What are we doing here? We belong on the Lower East Side.’ We were both in a giddy sort of realm.” They became friends (and briefly lovers), Kahn finding Buckley surprisingly precise – she uses the word ‘intentional’ – about all aspects of his creativity. He already knew the importance of leaving a legacy. He talked of needing to improve his lyrics. Kahn: “I was in awe of his abilities. Have you heard his recording of ‘Satisfied Mind’? The way his voice and guitar work together? I was like, ‘God! I can turn a phrase, but look what you can do.’ And he was like, ‘Sure, I can sing the crap out of anything, but how do I say it?’”

It was in Buckley’s nature to fluctuate between resolve and hesitation. On top of his ongoing worries about being sold to the public as Tim Buckley’s son, he was anxious to be perceived as a fan-based, credible artist, not some major-label hype. It was entirely characteristic of him to phone Nicholas Hill, who ran a 7” label, and tell him he wanted to record six indie singles immediately. It was also characteristic of him to change his mind and forget the conversation had ever happened.

Chris Dowd: “Jeff was the kind of person who was incredibly insecure about everything. His ability to play his instrument. His voice. When I first met him, he didn’t think he was good-looking. It was, ‘Women don’t like me,’ all this stuff. Later on, he was embarrassed to be voted one of People magazine’s ‘30 Most Beautiful People’. I think one part of him secretly dug it, but the other part – the artist, the musician – was like, ‘What a fucking goofy fag you are.’”

“He was a bit dorky,” says photographer Merri Cyr, who shot the covers of Live At Sin-é and Grace. “That’s what made him charming. I think he was initially unaware of the effect he had on other people. Later, though, he became much more savvy about how he behaved and presented himself. I remember he acquired a stalker or two. He was scrutinised and was in the public eye. His demeanour changed over time. Perhaps he became a bit suspicious of people.”

Live At Sin-é was recorded in July ’93. Buckley and Columbia agreed that a four-song live EP was a smart, subtle way to introduce him to the public and the media. Following several planning meetings at Columbia, he was about to spend six weeks at Bearsville Studios in Woodstock recording his first album. Chris Dowd: “Steve Berkowitz was being very protective of him. The pressure was probably more on Steve than Jeff. But the other thing is, Jeff could walk into a meeting with Donny Ienner and all the Sony people would be mesmerised by him. There’s no other word for it. They knew they’d signed a guy who was going to have a prolific, 30-year career. Fishbone were on the same damn label and we couldn’t get them to do anything. But Donny Ienner would have tattooed Jeff’s name on his penis if Jeff had told him to.”

With studio time at Bearsville booked, Buckley told producer Andy Wallace (Nirvana, Rollins Band) that he wanted to make a ‘band’ album. Wallace: “I thought that was a good idea. Over the course of a career, you want to reach out to more complex musical presentation, and he felt he wanted to do it right away.” Mick Grondahl (bass) and Matt Johnson (drums) were hand-picked because Jeff felt an affinity with them on both personal and musical levels. “He was very particular about who he was looking for,” says Nicholas Hill. “He wanted guys his own age who didn’t have baggage, who weren’t hot session guys. He’d done all that with Gary Lucas.”

Buckley, a brilliant guitarist, recorded most of the album’s guitar parts but invited Lucas – in a conciliatory gesture – to play on “Mojo Pin” and “Grace”. Buckley-written material rubbed shoulders with covers of “Hallelujah”, “Lilac Wine” and Benjamin Britten’s “Corpus Christi Carol”. It was rock meets Sin-é.

Chris Dowd was one of the first to hear it. “He had a cassette. He put on ‘Lilac Wine’. He was like, ‘I’m going to play you something… OK?’ I could see in his eyes he was insecure about what I was going to say. I started crying when I heard it. There I am, his fucking best friend, and he’s made this album and he doesn’t even believe how good it is. I was like, ‘What are you worried about, man?’ Either a song showed his depth of understanding as a musician, or it showed his sensitivity as a human being. There wasn’t a song out of place. That album became a sonnet for the tortured.”

Live At Sin-é was released in America in November ’93. But Columbia’s counterparts at Sony in London declined to follow suit, feeling the EP had no commercial potential. Instead it was given a UK release by Big Cat, which had signed a licensing deal with Columbia. The next step was to bring Buckley over to promote it. “We knew he was very good live – that’s how he was sold to us by the American company,” says Luc Vergier, a Frenchman who ran Columbia’s marketing in London. “We decided to put him on the road, on his own, for a short tour.”

Buckley arrived in the second week of March ’94 with his Telecaster and Fender amp. He played in Sheffield, flew to Dublin and then hit London for a series of gigs that are still spoken of in hallowed terms 19 years later. On one particular Friday night, he gave a three-hour performance in two different venues, beginning at Bunjies, the folk café, where he handed everyone a flower with mock solemnity as they took their seats. When Bunjies closed, Buckley led the audience (still with their flowers) to the nearby 12 Bar Club where he played for a further 90 minutes. He took requests, accepted a joint and sang until he almost collapsed off the stage. “Live At Sin-é came out on the Monday,” recalls Abbott, “and sold nearly 6,000 on the first day. The word of mouth from those two gigs was crazy.”

Buckley returned to the UK in August with his band. Five days after Grace was released, they played the Reading Festival in a mid-afternoon slot beneath Cud and Echobelly. In hindsight, their lowly billing symbolises the size of the mountain Buckley still had to climb, and the extent to which Grace would struggle to assert its identity – let alone its audacity – in the year of Parklife, Alice In Chains and Hootie & The Blowfish. There was a unspoken subtext to the ensuing 21-month tour: Columbia’s abiding disappointment with Grace’s sales in America.

“It never broke in an immediate way, the way other bands’ records did,” Mick Grondahl told Uncut. “It grew. To us, that was the point. We didn’t want to do something fashionable. We wanted to do something that had a nice feel to it. Feel was the key word. Never mind that it was this style or that style. It was more about, how does it feel? How does it touch you?”

One man who loved Grace was Jimmy Page. There was arguably no-one whose opinion Buckley valued more. He’d sung Zeppelin songs at Sin-é. He’d amused Tony Maimone at Gods And Monsters rehearsals by thumping out “When The Levee Breaks” on the drums. Buckley’s music on Grace, and in his band’s live shows, embraced androgynous vocals, ’70s rock, power chords and heroic drumming. One might even say there was a transference of Zeppelin energy taking place, a blessing or endorsement from afar, from the older men to the young. When Page and Buckley met, it was clear they understood each other on a profound level.

“Jeff told me they cried,” says Chris Dowd. “They actually cried when they met each other. Jimmy heard himself in Jeff, and Jeff was meeting his idol. Jimmy Page was the godfather of Jeff’s music. A lot of people thought Tim was the influence on Jeff, but it was really Zeppelin. He could play all the parts on all the songs. John Paul Jones’ basslines. Page’s guitar parts. The synthesiser intro on ‘In The Light’ – he could play it on guitar and it would sound just like it. And then he would get on the fucking drums and exactly mimic John Bonham.”

Perhaps Page also recognised in Buckley – whom he considered the greatest singer to have emerged in 20 years – a rare courage, an elemental intrepid streak, a fearlessness and a gung-ho spirit that allowed him to reach heights of expression that many of his ’90s contemporaries were too self-conscious to risk or too uninspired to imagine. In that sense, Buckley was a true son of Zeppelin. Matt Johnson, in a comment that is all the more poignant given the circumstances of Buckley’s death, remembers him as an adventurer in music and in life – a man “well suited to jumping into raw experience – unprotected, raw experience. He seemed to have a quicksilver flexibility and an ability to adjust.”

Since the day his body was found in the Mississippi River in June 1997, appreciation of Buckley has soared (“Grace was way more successful posthumously,” Johnson notes) and in many people’s eyes he’s become the timeless heritage artist that Columbia believed they’d signed in 1992. Others feel he was only just finding his feet. “It would have been amazing to hear his fourth or fifth album,” says Brenda Kahn. “I don’t think his music had been totally fleshed out yet.” Hal Willner thinks about that fifth album, too. What conceivable directions would Buckley’s voice and guitar have taken?

“I have to say he’s still hard for a lot of people to listen to,” Willner continues. “His mom, Mary, got me to edit together some tapes that he made in his early New York days. The stuff with Gary. And what was interesting about those tapes – what was really heartbreaking – was hearing him sing the way he sang when he came to New York. He changed it later… became less studied. But it’s hard to listen to it. It’s too sad.”

Buckley left his New York home on June 1, 1994 to tour Grace in America. “Keep the next year free,” the band were advised by George Stein, Buckley’s lawyer-manager, a comment they would later laugh about. First France became enchanted with them (two tours in ’95) and then Britain wanted them back. And even when they’d toured America twice, three times, and been to Japan, there was always Australia waiting in the distance.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World 1993

"The Man Who Sold the World" is the title track of David Bowie's third studio album, which was released in 1970 in the US and in 1971 in the UK. Although no singles were issued from the album, the song appeared as the B-side on the 1973 reissue US single release of "Space Oddity" and UK single release of "Life on Mars?".

In his journals, Kurt Cobain of the American grunge band Nirvana ranked the album The Man Who Sold the World at number 45 in his top 50 favourite albums. Nirvana subsequently recorded a live rendition of the song during their MTV Unplugged appearance at Sony Music Studios in New York City on 18 November 1993 and it was included on their MTV Unplugged in New York album released on November 1, 1994, nearly seven months following the death of Cobain. The song was also released as a promotional single for the album in 1995.

Nirvana's cover received considerable airplay on alternative rock radio stations and was also placed into heavy rotation on MTV, peaking at number 3 on MTV's most played videos on 18 February 1995; it also peaked for two weeks at number 7 on Canada's MuchMusic Countdown in March 1995. Nirvana regularly covered the song during live sets after their MTV Unplugged performance up until Cobain's death. In 2002, the song was re-released on Nirvana's self-titled "best of" compilation.

Bowie said of Nirvana's cover: "I was simply blown away when I found that Kurt Cobain liked my work, and have always wanted to talk to him about his reasons for covering 'The Man Who Sold the World'" and that "it was a good straight forward rendition and sounded somehow very honest." Bowie called Nirvana's cover "heartfelt", noting that "until this [cover], it hadn't occurred to me that I was part of America's musical landscape. I always felt my weight in Europe, but not [in the US]." In the wake of its release, Bowie bemoaned the fact that when he performed the number himself, he would encounter "kids that come up afterwards and say, 'It's cool you're doing a Nirvana song.' And I think, 'Fuck you, you little tosser!'"

At a pre–Grammy Awards party on 14 February 2016, Nirvana band members Krist Novoselic, Dave Grohl, and Pat Smear teamed up with Beck to perform "The Man Who Sold the World" in tribute to Bowie – who had died the month before — with Beck performing vocals.

"The Man Who Sold the World" received a total of 77,6% yes votes! Dave Grohl has previously been featured in the polls with Foo Fighter's "The Pretender" at #111 and as a drummer on Queens of the Stone Age's "No One Knows" at #87, and David Bowie has been featured with "I'm Afraid of Americans" at #33.

[thoughtportal]

Sinéad O’Connor, Dies at 56

Sinéad O’Connor, has died, The Irish Times reports. She was 56.

Her cause of death has yet to be revealed.

Her family said in a statement: “It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of our beloved Sinéad. Her family and friends are devastated and have requested privacy at this very difficult time.”

O’Connor, who was outspoken about her decades-long struggle with mental illness, wrote on her Facebook page earlier this month that she had moved back to London after 23 years and was finishing an album to be released next year. She also shared plans to tour in Australia and New Zealand in 2024, and in Europe, the United States and other territories in 2025.

O’Connor had a difficult childhood after the separation of her parents when she was eight. The singer claimed from an early age that her mother, who she lived with after the separation, physically abused her, which led to O’Connor’s vocal advocacy for abused children. At 15, O’Connor spent eighteen months at a Magdalene Asylum due to her truancy and shoplifting. Even at an early age, however, O’Connor showed musical talent and, after moving schools, recorded a four-song demo. She eventually formed the band Ton Ton Macoute, dropped out of school, and moved to Dublin.

O’Connor’s career progressed after she began working with ex-U2 record head Fachtna O’Ceallaigh and she found early success with the 1987 release of her debut album “The Lion and the Cobra,” which achieved gold status and earned her a Grammy nomination for best female vocal rock performance.

Her international breakthrough came with the release of her second album, “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got,” which included O’Connor’s new arrangement of “Nothing Compares 2 U,” a song originally written by Prince and released under his side project, the Family. O’Connor’s rendition reached No. 1 in several countries, and remained atop the charts in Ireland for 11 weeks. The song earned her a Grammy nom for record of the year, as well as another best female vocal rock performance nod. The album won her a Grammy for best alternative music performance.

She also appeared as Our Lady in Neil Jordan’s 1997 film “The Butcher Boy.” O’Connor went on to release eight more albums, and was nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Music Video, Long Form for her live concert VHS “Year of the Horse” in 1990. Her 1996 song “Famine” also received a Grammy nod for Best Music Video, Short Form. In 2012, the song “Lay Your Head Down,” which she performed for the soundtrack to the film “Albert Nobbs,” received a Golden Globe nomination for Best Original Song.

Throughout her career, O’Connor has gained notoriety for her outspoken nature and several controversies that have surrounded her. In 1993, O’Connor ripped a picture of the Pope into pieces while singing an a capella version of Bob Marley’s “War” on “Saturday Night Live” as a protest against sexual abuse within the church; NBC received over 4,400 complaint calls as a result.

In 2013, O’Connor wrote an open letter to Miley Cyrus regarding Cyrus’ sexually explicit imagery and warning her of the treatment of women in the music industry, urging Cyrus not to allow herself to be “pimped” by music executives. The letter received mixed responses from the public, and musician Amanda Palmer wrote an open letter in response stating that O’Connor was “off target” with her critique.

O’Connor revealed in a 2007 interview that she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2003 and had attempted suicide in 1999 on her 33rd birthday. Seven years later, however, she stated that she had gotten three further opinions stating that she was not bipolar.

In 2015, O’Connor posted on her Facebook page that she had taken an overdose as a result of troubles between herself and Donal Lunny, her ex-husband and the father of her youngest child Shane. Irish police later said they had located O’Connor and she was “safe and sound” and receiving medical attention.

In August 2017, she posted an emotional video to her Facebook page, stating that she had three mental illnesses and felt alone after losing custody of her 13-year-old son Shane. She continued that she had wanted to kill herself for several years and that only her psychiatrists and doctor were keeping her alive. She pleaded for someone in her family to take care of her, and added that she was “one of millions” who are stigmatized for their mental illness.

O’Connor is survived by her three children. Her son, Shane, died by suicide last year at age 17.

O’Connor had switched to a new Twitter account at the beginning of July, using her full name. Her final Twitter post on the new account, on July 17, alluded to her son’s suicide, as she linked to a “Great Tibetan Compassion Mantra” and wrote, “For all mothers of Suicided children.”

[zet-sway]

re: songs that make you go \(￣︶￣*\))

It was 2019 and one of the best years of my life. I planned a day of events for our four year wedding anniversary. First, we went sunflower picking, followed by a nice nap after the heat, and dinner at a tapas restaurant. We ordered one of the most expensive things on the menu and ate until we were ready to burst. And then we went to a synthpop concert.

The band we saw was called Iris. A lot of people probably have never heard of this band before. Synthpop doesn't have the footing in the US the way it does in Europe, so Iris played one (1) show in my country that year, right in Philadelphia. They played the entirety of their debut album - the one with the club hit that put them on the map - but they also played a few lesser-known songs, stuff they'd never performed live before, and songs that never made it on a record in the first place. They performed at Underground Arts on the small stage for no more than what I would estimate was 200 people.

The vocalist was nervous, so someone bought him a shot. He stood up there telling us his memories of recording the album they came to play for us. And then he said "I don't know if I still have the voice for this," and began to play a song called Everybody is Life.

I stood there, surrounded by strangers, as they played. It was a quiet song. I closed my eyes and leaned into my husband and just listened. And then came the drop. Not a loud, crazy dubstep thing, not even a drop that made people hype. It was this quiet escalation that made my bones vibrate and yanked every sense to the present moment. I can't describe it. It felt so right to be held by the man I loved while this song played.

I don't know if that song would have hit me the way it did if I had heard it in any other context. Something about the intimacy of such a small crowd, such raw honesty from the vocalist, and the occasion itself just crawled right under my skin and refused to leave. I came to that show excited to hear a few favorite tracks from a band I liked, and I left with a memory that cocooned me in warmth for a solid week. I've been to a lot of incredible concerts, but this one might be my number one for this memory alone.

Anyway, this is a mass effect blog, so you may be asking "what does this have to do with anything?" Honestly, not much, save for the fact that I love to put this song on when I'm writing sappy shrios fics. I'm sitting here on a Sunday morning eating some soup and salad at Panera - I come here to get a little writing done when I can - and I'm thinking about this memory. Tumblr felt like the right place to share it. Hope you're all having a good day c:

Iris - Everybody is Life (Sea of Life Remix)

Near as I can tell, Iris does not have an official youtube channel, and a lot of their discography is not available on Spotify. I can't tell you if the remix is a real thing or who remixed it or anything - all I know is this is what I remember of the song they played at the above mentioned show. The group formed in 1993 and disbanded sometime around 2021. They came to play one show in Philadelphia after many fans from a local club called Nocturne asked nicely to host an anniversary event for their album, Disconnect.

[amwftrust]

FRANKIE BEVERLY AND MAZE AND MARVIN GAYE “BAD BLACK EXPO” HISTORICAL SUCCESS! Frankie Beverly and Raw Soul performed at the Orphanage before Marvin Gaye that lead to their union with the “Silky Soul Singer”! They also performed at the "Black Awareness Day (BAD), Black Expo”, known as “BAD BLACK EXPO” and several other venues around the Bay Area booked by Abdul-Jalil and SUPERSTAR MANAGEMENT whom actually fed the group as they lived in their bus parked in various areas around Oakland and Berkeley in the 1971-75 era BEFORE they made it BIG!!!! Marvin took the group on the road with him as his opening acts and suggested that they change their name from Raw Soul, becoming Maze, then Maze featuring Frankie Beverly, then Frankie Beverly and Maze! Maze released 9 Gold albums from 1977 to 1993. Their well-known songs include "Happy Feelin's", "While I'm Alone", "Golden Time of Day", “Southern Girl”, "The Look in Your Eyes", "Joy and Pain", "Before I Let Go", "We Are One", "Back in Stride", "Can't Get Over You" and "The Morning After". The band has maintained a large and devoted following Maze signed a recording contract with Capitol Records in 1976, and released their debut album, Maze featuring Frankie Beverly, in 1977. From that album, the hit singles included "Happy Feelin's", "While I'm Alone", and "Lady of Magic", ultimately giving them their first gold record and earning Maze a devoted following. They also had success with the albums Golden Time of Day (1978), Inspiration (1979) and Joy and Pain (1980). The group has stated that their hit single “Southern Girl” was dedicated to all the southern women from Virginia to Texas. Their next recording was Live in New Orleans, three quarters of which was recorded at the Saenger Theatre, on November 14–15, 1980. Three of those songs got into the US R&B chart, including "Running Away", "Before I Let Go", and "We Need Love to Live". In May 1985, Maze sold out eight nights at the Hammersmith Odeon. In recent years, it has become tradition for the audience to honor the group by dressing in all white attire, as the group has often worn while performing. Maze continues to tour around the United States as well as Europe to this day. Maze’s seventh studio album, Silky Soul, was dedicated to the group’s mentor and musical guide, Marvin Gaye. The title track opens with a description of a “smooth”, “special” man who remains in the hearts and minds of those he sang to. Towards the end of the song, Frankie Beverly belts out, “I remember brother Marvin”, revealing in full who the album is dedicated to. The song also samples Marvin Gaye’s unprecedented sociopolitical smash hit “What’s Going On”. By the time Silky Soul was released in 1989, Marvin had been dead for five years but his legacy was still very clearly alive and well in those that loved him and his music. THE REST, AS THEY SAY, IS HISTORY!! WORLD HISTORY!! BLACK HISTORY!!