Friday, 1 March 2019

Ten Other Albums From 1974

We've seen the 'best' of 1974, but of course there is far more to the year than those 10 records. Here I try to do a little justice to that by noting the runners up and some of the other records that year that warrant a little mention. I'll try to be brief!


First Runner Up: Shuggie Otis - Inspiration Information


This was so close to the Top Ten. Right up until the last moment, this, Betty Davis and Funkadelic were all neck and neck for the 9th and 10th positions. I’m still not sure that I made the right decision. All three are funky, but Shuggie’s funk is far lower key than the others. It feels like a warm, humid night. Even on the odd occasions where the tempo picks up a little, it still resists the urge to build up too much steam. Tracks like Aht Uh Mi Head have an almost DIY quality to it. It feels a little like prime Timmy Thomas or Sly Stone at his most withdrawn.

At the time this album did not get the credit it deserved. It was mostly ignored. Thankfully, time has proven more generous. It’s idiosyncratic, sinewy funk has ended up being far more influential. It’s a timeless record. Please check it out.


Second Runner Up: Bee Gees - Mr. Natural


The Bee Gees are without doubt one of the most misunderstood of bands. The parodies, the cliches and that Clive Anderson interview seem to have coloured people's impression of them despite their having a series of hits more impressive than most other bands. If you haven't read it, I'd strongly recommend having a look at Bob Stanley's book Yeah Yeah Yeah, in particular the chapter on the Brothers Gibb. It considers both the heights that they reached and goes some way to account for why they were such odd and prickly characters, so easily misunderstood.

Alongside Shuggie, Mr. Natural fell very close to the top ten albums of the year, despite its having no hits that you'd recognise. It sat at a weird juncture for the band. After the heights of their late sixties recordings, they had begun to flounder in the early 70s. They decamped to the US and here joined forced with legendary producer Arif Mardin who has produced many many incredible records. With him the Bee Gees began to explore their love of R'n'B, which was more thoroughly explored on Main Course, Children of the World and Spirits Having Flown. Here we have 11 fully realised songs that are relentlessly gorgeous and always interesting. With Mardin at the helm you'd expect the production to be lush and spectacular, but the core songs never fail either. In the time since I bought it - only about two years ago thanks to a recommendation (from Nick) - this has been the Bee Gees album that I come back to the most and it never fails.

Hidden Treasure Award: Sparks - Kimono My House



I only started listening to Sparks albums earlier last year. I was listening to their massive This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us at about the same time that their squillionth album Hippopotamus  was getting loads of critical acclaim. I found myself wondering what their 40+ career was all about, and decided to pick up some of their albums. Naturally, I started with this one (although it was followed almost instantaneously by others). What I found was a band of such wild invention and creativity that sometimes it was too much to take. Russell Mael (the one who doesn't look like Hitler) sings in a faux-operatic style that sometimes slips into fey music-hall manner-isms. Ron Mael (the one who does look like Hitler), the writer of most words and all music, is likely insane, or a genius (or both?). The melodies are bewildering, the lyrics more so. The result is a band that is never boring and always entertaining. Of the albums I have picked up so far, this one is essential. It's follow up, Propaganda (also from 1974), is almost as good, and so, just as essential. There are some later albums I think even better, so this will not be the last we hear of Sparks on this blog.

Misunderstood Award: Hot Chocolate - Cicero Park


Hot Chocolate are another of those bands that it is real easy to make assumptions about. They are so embedded with their massive hit You Sexy Thing that it quickly eclipses everything else about the band. In truth, there was a lot to them - from their very curious cover of Lennon's Give Peace a Chance (on Apple records, no less); their legendary and oft-covered suicide epic, Emma; and of course, the many disco hits. What is less well known are their folky origins and their social and political awareness. Tracks like Brother Louie, A Child's Prayer, and Rumours reveal a thoughtfulness not observed in So You Win Again.

Hot Chocolate were not a great albums band. Most of their best work were on singles, to be honest. But if you were to get an album, this would be the one to get*. It has a solid mix of their conscious songs like the title cut and Could Have Been Born in the Ghetto, which are both broad and cinematic in scope and as cool as anything happening stateside (yup, they were British...). It also has the aforementioned Emma, and a solid early dancefloor classic with Disco Queen, which is damned cool. In truth, this is never going to album of the year, but it's a great introduction to the band and offers a real defence as a band that deserves more credit.

* I've got to admit, I quite like their second, third and fifth albums too... I'm not ashamed.

Worst Album of the Year Award: Fatback Band - Feel My Soul


This party band were partying TOO damned hard to notice what was wrong with this record. Firstly the name which sounds like a parody. Secondly, the vocals. It sounds like they grabbed some coke-addled teenager from the street and forced him at gunpoint to sing. Exhibit A is Baby Doll, which is beyond words bad and has the audacity to be over seven minutes long. It's a real shame because they were a pretty awesome party band and even here there are some killer cuts - Njia Walk (Street Walk) is a party all unto itself. But nothing can erase those vocals from my mind.


Poor Ranking But Still Essential Award: Kraftwerk - Autobahn



I should probably explain the tracklisting here. The album has five tracks. The first, Autobahn, is 23 minutes long. The remaining four make up side 2 and total just under 20. They were also only just beginning to perfect the sound that they would be known for, and even then, only really on the title cut. Autobahn is awesome but I consider open for debate whether it is 23 minutes awesome. Unless you are in the Kraftwerk sweet spot exactly, it might begin to outstay its welcome. The second side - well, they're interesting tracks and key building blocks to what they were going to do next, but again, not really the most fun in themselves. I will admit to having a soft-spot for Morganspaziergang, in particular the flute bit, but even then... In all, it is an interesting and important record - I wouldn't want to be without it - but it's primary strength is for giving a sense of the progression of the band, but not necessarily for being a fun one to listen to.


Ahead of it's Time Award: Dadawah - Peace and Love


In short, Rastafarian meditation music. It sits alongside some of the music that Lee Perry was to produce (with The Congos, for example) and stands as a place marker for music that would arrive a little later via the productions of Adrian Sherwood (African Head Charge in particular). It's reggae, of course, but not as we're typically used to it. It is drum music, chant music - music where the structure has been slowly dismantled and only the underlying rhythm and melody remains, which, amidst the chant-singing is added to, taken away from. It is genuinely spiritual music and very warm to let wash over you. If you think that music and religion shouldn't mix - this is the record to put you straight on that!

Phase Two Award: Robert Wyatt - Rock Bottom



The story of Robert Wyatt bears repeating. He was the drummer in one of the cooler, jazzier, prog rock bands, Soft Machine. He was working on some songs for his second solo album when he fell from a fourth storey window, a fall that left him paralysed from the waist down. In short, Wyatt retooled and reframed to accommodate this new reality. Rock Bottom was the first album to emerge and it signalled that Wyatt was not going to conform to anyone’s expectations. It’s six tracks exist in a barely structured cloud, where Wyatt and his collaborators form delicate shapes and patterns. It feels extemporised, but I suspect that it’s all more deliberate than that. The net result is a beautiful if sometimes disconcerting series of pieces that are distinctly minor key and yet ultimately liberating. I definitely recommend it.

Never-ending Genius Award: Stevie Wonder Presents Syreeta


Rita Wright, a.k.a. Syreeta, ex-wife of Stevie releases another monster collaboration. The two had released a killer in 1972, entitled simply Syreeta. Two years later, the marriage is on the rocks, but they remain friends and still pull out a great record. It is more of a pop confection this time. The earlier record had a jazzier, more deconstructed feel, whereas the structures of this album are more built up. But it is relentlessly catchy - exactly what you'd expect from Stevie Wonder. Syreeta's sweet soprano is up front and more strident on this record - it's funkier and it stands out more. Listening to Come and Get It, it stands up today and not simply as a period piece. Even ballads like Heavy Day avoid being over-sentimental and mawkish. It's the sound of summer and good times - it's impossible not to love.


Neglected Classic Award: John Lennon - Walls and Bridges



I can never decide which of the Beatles' post-Beatles careers I value the most. I've pretty much settled on the view that the best album is George's All Things Must Pass. I've been spending a lot of time lately with Paul's albums and my estimation all-in-all is increasing. But I think I am still tilting towards John. Imagine and Plastic-Ono Band are obviously the high-points, but this album comes in a close third. It bewilders me that it still suffers from some mixed reviews. Sure, there are one or two missed opportunities, but there are enough crackers here to defend it.

It has the shiny irrepressible Whatever Gets You Thru The Night with Elton John, which is just a whisper away from disco, the gorgeous #9 Dream with its incomprehensible lyrics, and the angry John of old with Steel and Glass. The primary feeling one comes away with, however, is a quieter, thoughtful, reflective Lennon. It came at the end of his 'Lost Weekend', just as he was about to reunite with Yoko, and the record catches this mood. Nobody Loves You When You're Down and Out and Scared reflect John's uncertainties, while Bless You is a beautiful piece of Yacht Rock expressing his abiding love for his estranged wife. It's a pretty complete album and deserves more recognition.

Saturday, 23 February 2019

10 'Best' Albums From 1974


So 1974. I finished this list a few weeks ago, but other stuff kept me from writing it. Here we are!

I feel like I ought to remind folk that I try not to talk about the same artists again and again, so I skip people if they've shown up too recently. So even though David Bowie (Diamond Dogs), John Cale (Fear) and Roxy Music (Country Life) all had massive albums this year, I've not included them in the list.



1974

One reader suggested that an overview of the time might be a nice add-on to these posts. I have given it a go. I ended up writing quite a lot and even after a good edit, it's still quite long*. Please let me know what you think. I still like the idea but I might do it once every couple of years.

In one sense 1974 is much like every year - if you look over the Singles Charts, it's not looking good. The charts are dominated by glam rock (not necessarily the good stuff) and middle of the road fluff. There's Gary Glitter, Alvin Stardust, Suzi Quatro, Mud, and Sweet (etc. etc.). All fine singles in their way, I suppose, but there's a reason why we have forgotten most of them. And then there's Lena Zavaroni, Lulu, Terry Jacks, Perry Como. Paul Weller recently described the mid-70s as 'a wasteland'. You can find evidence for that claim in the Charts, but I am not convinced.

After all, if you look closer to the charts, you can see the signs of better things. Bowie, Roxy Music, Sparks and 10cc all appear, as does Stevie Wonder and the Isley Brothers. It's clear that things are changing even if it is not necessarily obvious.

In rock music, heavy and progressive rock is still in the ascendancy. Zeppelin, Sabbath, Deep Purple along with Floyd, Genesis and King Crimson were shifting boatloads of records. But there were others who seem to be looking to a different future. Most obviously there were the art rockers like Bowie, Roxy, Eno and Sparks who all continued to draw from rich seams opened by the Velvets, Stooges and Doors. Of course, Reed, Cale and Pop were themselves revitalised and producing some of the best music of their careers. Another prominent influence was the second wave of the German avant-garde - Can, Cluster, Faust, Neu! and of course Kraftwerk. These would offer endless inspiration to those who would appear in the later 70s.

Another view of the future came from a group who were resolutely looking to the past - the pub rockers. Bands like Dr. Feelgood were drawing upon blues and RnB revivalism but their music was defined more by energy and enthusiasm than by double-necked guitars and technically perfect guitar solos. (It's no surprise then that much of the early punk scene had connections to the pub-rock scene - I'd argue that from a genre point of view, they're virtually siblings.)

Away from rock, new things were happening elsewhere too. Black American music was diversifying. Disco had not quite erupted, but it is plain that it was already making a serious impact, especially in the smooth soul powerhouse of Philadelphia. Southern Soul was on the decline in 1974 but it was still packing a punch - Ann Peebles, Al Green and Millie Jackson were all making killer records. And then there was funk, which was developing into something wholly new. The stripped back sound of James Brown was still present but it was increasingly overlaid with ... well, frankly, anything and everything; from Hendrix to Jazz to Disco.

And it was not all about the USA and Europe. Jamaica was onto its third internationally recognised genre: reggae (after rocksteady and ska). Even reggae was beginning to develop and diversify in 1974. There was the poppier end of reggae, represented by John Holt and Jimmy Cliff and then there was Roots. Beyond Jamaica, African music was beginning to draw a lot of attention. Over the next decade this would spread across the whole continent, most notably South Africa, Mali, Senegal and Nigeria.

In headline, like any year, if you look at the froth of what the music business produced in 1974 you might conclude that it was a wasteland. But this is a mistake, like most of the 70s, it was a rich time. It was rich in its own right, and not simply in what because of what it was pointing towards.

* Even then, I think I have barely scratched the surface...


Funkadelic - Standing on the Verge of Getting It On


Funkadelic's debut was a major player on my 1970 list. What marked that album out in my mind was the murky, smoky underworld it inhabited. Sure, it was funky, but it felt like something you'd find deep in the woods - something enticing but slightly dangerous. It had a similar sort of vibe, in my mind anyway, to Dr. John's debut Gris-Gris.

That Funkadelic is still here. Red Hot Mamma has a riff that wouldn't have been out of place back then. The twelve minute closer Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts is as spacey as anything on the first album or Maggot Brain, and the monologue is just as ridiculous.

But by this point, the Parliament-Funkadelic train has long since left the station and they are well on their way to the mothership. Everything is so much brighter, clearer - in sharper focus. It is more confident and sure of itself. The hooks are more forward. The groove on I'll Stay is beyond infectious and it find its way into my memory that I'll be humming it for days. The title track opens with the silly voices that begin to characterise P-Funk, but once it kicks in, it's as celebratory and exciting as anything that Sly Stone could muster. And that's plenty recommendation all by itself.

Betty Davis - They Say I'm Different


This won't take long. While it's a killer album, it's pretty simple. Betty Davis, ex-wife to Miles (who turned him on to Hendrix, Sly Stone etc.) (who was a little much for him to handle!) (who wrote He Was A Big Freak about him), rides some of the dirtiest funk ever written. In contrast to Funkadelic, it is closer to the Family Stone, lacking the murky psychedelics.

This is tighter and rougher. Check out the bass-drum-keyboards of He Was a Big Freak. It's a beat that picks you up and beats you right back down again. Betty is not intimidated by it, but instead towers over it; purring, growling, shrieking, disclosing secrets that I'll bet made Miles blush.

Betty's vocal performance is aggressive and relentless; the music is funky and fierce. It is stripped down with no unnecessary embellishments - it gives you what you need and no more. This album is short, hard and unapologetic - perhaps the hardest of the whole list. It will not let you sit still.

Blue Oyster Cult - Secret Treaties


Everyone knows (Don't Fear) The Reaper but this was my real introduction to the band. I'd heard two things about them; they were a little occultic (they were the first to lay claim to the umlaut, after all); and/or, they came with some serious song-writing credibility - Patti Smith and Richard Meltzer - often regarded as the first serious rock critic. I'm not at all sure about the first point, but the second is true.

In truth, I really like 75% of this album, but I only love the last two tracks. But I LOOOVE those two tracks. The album is hard rock and stands in contrast to riffage of Sabbath and Purple; I'd argue that it stands more as a precursor to the NWOBHM. All of the first six tracks kick ass as solid rock tunes; they're quirky and inventive in their decision-making. They're all sort of funny lyrics-wise, which is why I take their alleged occultic leanings as more of come-on than anything else - just check the titles; Career of Evil, Dominance and Submission, Harvester of Eyes. 

And then there are the final two tracks. Flaming Telepaths opens with a great riff hovering over a great beat. Lyrically, it sends you off in one direction before doubling back in another. Is it about drugs, is it about deception? Is it about altered realities or is it all a double bluff, and it is all about the confusion of the listener trying to make sense of it all - 'the joke's on you!' they sing. The rhythm is propulsive, before a massive, almost psychedelic climax, which tumbles into the relative calm of the album's closer Astronomy. I'm not even going to start making sense of it - having the lyrics booklet is no help at all. It's a damned catchy song even if it is incomprehensible.

Barry White - Can't Get Enough


If you're spotting this and groaning, muttering about my having a problem, or being cheesy; even if you're chuckling and thinking of the ol' Walrus of Love, then stop it! Go and listen to this album with fresh ears. It is what you think it is, but it is SO much more. Barry White is a bona fide genius along with his long time arranger, Gene Page.

His M.O. is simple: pick up from where Isaac Hayes left off, up the lush string arrangements, and throw as many damned hooks at it as you can. Every song is catchy and you can sing along. If the song is made for the dance floor, damned straight you can dance to it; if it's for the bedroom, well, you know what to do... Every monologue is just the right kind of cheesy, and you know, I think he means every word. The joke is that he is responsible for his own baby boom - definitely possible. If you're in love, Barry's got your back.

The main thing is that the quality is there. Barry White had a great run in the early 70s and the dude was busy. Aside from his own LPs, he was writing and producing for Love Unlimited and the Love Unlimited Orchestra. In 1974 he produced albums for Jay Dee and Gloria Scott, and both are good, worth a listen. Of his own albums, every one from '73-'79 are worth a listen. But this is the one, if a gun was forced to my head and I had to pick just one. It has two of Barry's monster hits You're My First, My Last, My Everything and Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe as well as a clutch of other great tracks. I Can't Believe You Love Me is 10 minutes and he makes each one count.

I love Barry White, and Barry White loves you.

Neil Young - On The Beach


I debated whether I should include this record. After all, Young's Harvest figured big in 1972 and I don't want to write about the same artists every year (Hello, David Bowie!). But this is such a different record to Harvest. To say that they are opposites would be to overstate matters, but they are separate beasts.

It's incredible to think that this album waited SO long for a CD release as well - it was finally issued in 2003 after falling out of print on vinyl in the early 80s. The story goes, as I understand it, that coming off the back of the mega-success of Harvest, his guitarist, Danny Whitten died of an overdose. This event plus Young's own erratic nature led to his producing three of the rawest albums of his career. The first, which is still not available on CD and that I haven't heard still, Time Fades Away was recorded live. Tonight's the Night was recorded next but released last (in 1975) and On the Beach was recorded last, but released in 1974. What binds these albums together is raw, unflinchingly honest personal song-writing, recorded sparsely with very light production. While I love Tonight's the Night, this is my favourite work by Young by far.

While the album kicks up with the chipper Walk On, it quickly turns dark. See The Sky About To Rain is a lovely, if melancholy, country rock tune but as the title suggests it points to something ominous. What that might be is given more detail in Revolution Blues, which is alleged to be a song from the point of view of Charles Manson. I don't know if that is true or not, but there are some dark lyrics here; especially about the movie stars in Lauren Canyon. The title track finds Young ruminating about fame and how much he needs people or wants them around. The album closes reflecting on the past and whether it offers any solace. The lyrics are dark and questioning but that wouldn't matter one jot if it wasn't such a awesome record musically. As I've noted it's light on production and pretty rough sounding, but it's so perfectly written. The songs are what they need to be, even when they stretch out to six or eight minutes - not one note outstays its welcome.


Millie Jackson - Caught Up


This is some powerful southern soul. It was recorded in Muscle Shoals and follows the Isaac Hayes model - hard-bitten soul with opulent sophisticated orchestration. It borrows another approach perfected by Hayes in having long spoken word stretches. It also functions as the perfect example of well-worn soul trope - the story of illicit love - and Caught Up tells the story of a woman in love with a married man. It amounts to a soul concept album,  telling the story over 10 tracks - with ongoing narration from Jackson.

All of this would be cute if it wasn't for two things; the music and Jackson's delivery. The music is tight and funky and grooves relentlessly. Every song is a knock-out. The arrangements solid and dynamic, propelling me forward through the narrative, tapping my toes and fingers. Jackson gives everything to these songs, while she'd had a few hits, she was determined that this album would be the smash she felt she deserved. She was right and it was. The spoken word interludes don't interfere with the tunes but tie them together as they should, and Jackson sounds utterly authentic throughout, using humour where appropriate. For a southern soul record, this is essential.


Richard & Linda Thompson - I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight


I'd already become familiar with Richard Thompson via his work with Fairport Convention. So I already knew that spotting that a song was written by him was something to pay attention to. Fairport were perhaps best known for their arrangements of traditional folk material, but both Thompson and Sandy Denny were incredible songwriters. When these three classic albums of Richard and Linda Thompson were reissued in 2004, I was all over them. This, along with Pour Down Like Silver (1975), quickly embedded themselves as dear favourites in my collection.

It would be fair to say that Richard Thompson does not specialise in songs that focus on joy. In truth, one common feature of his songwriting is a sort of latent despair. It was there back in '68 with his legendary Meet on the Ledge. And here there are several songs that are close to, if not downright, heartbreaking. Perhaps the apotheosis of this is The End of the Rainbow - a song sung to an infant spelling out all of life's disappointments.
"Your mother works so hard to make you happy,
But take a look outside the nursery door
There's nothing at the end of the rainbow
There's nothing to grow up for anymore
"
Of course, you might prefer Withered and Died or even the title track, which might seem lighthearted if it wasn't for the shadow of everyday life that lingers in the background.

I don't want to sell this album as a massive mope-fest, though, as it is breath-takingly beautiful. Thompson is commonly regarded as one of Britain's best ever guitar players. You'll see no pyrotechnics here, just a quiet defined style - slightly stark, but every note is correct. Consider The Calvary Cross, it's so gorgeous - it's so economical.


Brian Eno - Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy)



The world of music has had its fair share of visionaries; people who seem to see beyond the confines of the present and bring back from the future artefacts of a world yet unseen. Off the top of my head, I'd include the Velvets, the Beatles (including George Martin), Prince, Lee Scratch Perry, Bowie, Kanye West, Adrian Sherwood... Anyway, of all of them, no-one seems as consistently of the future as Eno. From those early Roxy Music albums, through these 70s recordings, his ambient work, his collaborations with David Byrne, John Cale, Harmonium, and then his production work, most notably with U2 - throughout them all, he has brought perpetual invention. All of the above have continued to offer inspiration to generations that have followed in his wake.

1974 was an incredible year for Eno. He'd just been kicked out of Roxy Music and then he produces two amazing albums. A case could be made for my selecting his debut, Here Come The Warm Jets, as it sets up the template for the series of experiments that Eno would embark on for the next few years. However, while I highly recommend it, I find it a little more abrasive, and thus a little less enjoyable.

Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy) is difficult to describe. Eno referred to himself as a non-musician, and in one sense that is true. He operates in textures and feelings rather than chord structures and key changes. But in another sense it is false, because of course all of those things are there. Perhaps because he is a non-musician, they are unexpected and refreshing. Nothing is cliched; nothing is predictable; and yet everything sounds right - to me anyway. Check out Third Uncle, perhaps the most familiar thanks to the Bauhaus cover version. It sounds like a collection of Bo Diddeleys competing with each other, who can dismantle the rhythm first... But the more it seems like it might fall apart, the more Eno piles on. More drums! A new guitar riff! Another bassline! It's demented, it's careering, and yet, it never shows signs of leaving the road. I'll swear that Wire had this album on repeat when they were recording 154, especially listening to The True Wheel. My favourite track is The Fat Lady of Limbourg. It's slow. It's the most sedate song of the album - pondering perhaps - but it's absurdist lyrics, it's construction of atmosphere is second to none.

I'd seriously recommend to anyone thinking about sounds, that they sit and deconstruct any track from this album. There's more invention in one bar here than there are in many whole albums.


Steely Dan - Pretzel Logic



I am the only person I know that loves Steely Dan and I find this very strange. They have a gargantuan reputation and a modest discography, so they don't seem so overwhelming to investigate. But no-one likes them bar me. Or so it seems. I do have half a suspicion that once I have written this, two or three people will pop up and say me too...

Anyway, I bought this on a whim in about 2002. I had heard nothing of them since my childhood and even then nothing had lodged itself in my memory. I can't remember why, I was just curious. My Mum's second husband had Pretzel Logic on vinyl in the late 70s and I liked the cover. And I had read that they were cool. And why not buy it.... If nothing else, I'll learn something!

So how to describe it? On the face of things, it's pretty unremarkable. It's soft rock with jazzy undertones, I guess. Everyone says that they are terribly sophisticated and I suppose they are. I don't understand musical theory sufficiently to try to explain it, but the songs are thoughtful and rarely obvious, even if they could hardly be described as surprising. I guess - can you tell I'm struggling a little? - it's just really satisfying to listen to. There are lots of interesting things afoot, despite being such that if you weren't paying attention, it could pass you by very easily. I'm a big fan of this. If being sophisticated means that you make lots of interesting choices without feeling the need to shout about them, then this is that kind of record.

But while I am told that lyrically it is cold, I find it warm to listen to. The melodies are immediate and immediately lured me in. When I bought it, it was almost instantly on the rotation and it has never left it. It has hooks galore and to me is a sing-along record (as long as I am on my own in the car or something). I now have all bar one of Steely Dan's records - I love them very much. Some are a little jazzier, some a little rockier, but not one has failed me. I love them - why don't you?


Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson - Winter in America




I remember buying this album. It was from HMV in about '92 and knew next to nothing about it. It was a pretty big gamble - not least because it was £15. I was pretty broke back then so that was a good bit of change. I had no idea what I was buying. I didn't know Gil Scott-Heron, not really. The one thing I knew was his song 'The Bottle'. I'd come across that track a few times and naturally, I loved it. It was upbeat and cool, jazzy and knowing, and it was socially conscious. It had this fantastic beat, that seemed informed as much by Latin music as by jazz - not that I knew very much about either of these things. Quite rightly, it remains one of his most well known songs. But the other eight songs, who knows....

Remember - this was before the internet, so I couldn't sample a track to check it out. If you didn't know someone who had it, and I didn't, there wasn't too much you can do (especially not in HMV). (I later befriended the folk who worked in the separate classical department and they would, from time to time, play me things if they weren't too busy). Anyway, I took the plunge and it remains one of the very best decisions I ever made.

Gil Scott-Heron is one of the artists of the margins - difficult to fix down; sort of jazz, sort of not, sort of funk, sort of not, and so on. Since he was initially a poet, there was always a strong use of language and purpose in the lyrics. Musically he is joined with Brian Jackson on keyboards and together this forms one of the coolest, most relaxing albums I own. Even when they up the tempo, it's still time to kick back.

The music is calm and ruminative. Scott-Heron is at his most reflective here. The first two songs, Peace Go With You Brother and Rivers of my Fathers, consider community and tradition and togetherness and untogetherness. I am in no way an expert in the Black American experience, especially not of the early mid-70s, but I am under the impression that this was a time of uncertainty. This feeling seems to come out in these songs. Elsewhere, he looks back to his childhood and sings about parenthood. In many ways, The Bottle is the most typical song here - it feels like it is only sort of autobiographical. Aside from a brief reprise of the opener, the album closes with a long spoken word piece, H20 Gate Blues. Musically, it stands out but it also stands out lyrically, it's the only track that feel strident - as though he is sure about his position.

In all, this album opened my eyes, changed my word. It was one of the first real views on jazz that I had (despite being more jazzy than jazz) and introduced me to Gil Scott-Heron, of course. I think it was also one of the first pieces from the early 70s that I loved with all my heart. I'll be playing this record until I die and if there's an afterlife, it had better be playing there too!



Just missed out...

So close! Shuggie Otis's Inspiration Information. This was jostling for includion right up until the last minute. The Bee Gee's Mr. Natural was creeping close behind, as was Dadawah's Rastafarian meditation Peace and Love. Nina Simone's live It is Finished was a close runner as was Ann Peeble's I Can't Stand the Rain.

Some of these might show up next week in 1974 - The Others....

If you really want to see everything I listened to for this, click here. But why would you want to?

Sunday, 20 January 2019

Farewell, R. Kelly

I have been watching the Lifetime series Surviving R. Kelly.
Miss Info

In episode 4 a music journalist called Miss Info described going to R. Kelly's house after he was acquitted of child pornography charges. She said that, like everybody else, she had a set of feelings about Kelly, but since he was acquitted she left them at the door and entered to do her job. She then said that when she left, she picked up her feelings on the way out. She concluded that this might be what it is like as a fan of R. Kelly's music - we have feelings about him, we put on his music and put down our feelings, when the music stops, we pick them up again and move on.

That was a process I recognised - it rang very true to me. I've long heard rumours that R. Kelly is a pretty skeezy guy (I selected that word precisely because it is nebulous) but he was acquitted of the really nasty stuff. And you know, Ignition (Remix) is a monster and so are a bunch of his other hits. Even the corny tracks like I Believe I Can Fly are damned irresistible. There have been whispers of other allegations, but there are loads of skeezy people in the music business... what am I going to do, investigate all the allegations about all of them? I rationalise etc. And you know, Ignition (Remix) IS great.

But the allegations have gotten louder again, and I have been feeling increasingly uncomfortable putting down my feelings about Kelly the man when I listen to Kelly the musician. Watching Surviving R. Kelly has sealed the deal, I can't do it anymore. I am embarrassed that it has taken me this long, but I am here now.

I can't promise that I won't enjoy it if I happen across it randomly - I still enjoy Gary Glitter's biggest hits if I catch them unexpectedly - but I am going to stop doing so voluntarily. Of course, that includes buying any of Kelly's records. I doubt he'll notice, but I will.

Monday, 14 January 2019

10 Songs That Take Me Back to Planet X

I was rooting around my old CDs the other day - the CDs that live upstairs and are semi-forgotten. Amongst them I came across this:

Forgive my awful photoshop skills. Also this was before Facebook and getting real Planet X pictures to use!

Back when burning CDs was a thing - just under 20 years ago, I think, I was feeling nostalgic. Napster, or something like it, was a thing, and I decided to re-create a night at Planet X for myself.

Aside: Planet X was a Liverpool nightclub that ran from approximately 1983-1993 (give or take) and for a short period my whole life seemed to revolve around it - roughly from the beginning of 1986 to the end of 1988. Aesthetically, it was goth, but in reality it was everyone's that was not part of the mainstream - so whether you were punk, rockabilly or just one of the all-sorted folk that somehow eluded categorisation, the Planet was for you. It was the night-time hub and meeting point for anyone and everyone, or so it seemed. Every band that mattered had passed through at some point or in some format, or so it seemed. It was my world.

So I was feeling wistful. I wanted to collate 5 hours of music (roughly from 9 in the evening to 2 in the morning). I had some of these tracks already but it was an excuse to gather things that I did not have. Looking at the track listing, it was also plainly an excuse to pull together tracks that reminded me more generally of the time and place than simply the Planet. I'd guess, in all honesty, that about one third of the tracks were never played anywhere in the night club at any time.

Yup - about a third were never played at the Planet...

No mind... It served its purpose. I haven't popped the CDs recently, but looking at it, I am confident that if I did, I'd not get bored. I'm also confident that while it probably fails to match anyone else's memories of the Planet exactly, it would be close enough to amuse any other nostalgic scouse goth from the 80s.

So here are ten tracks that will, within a bar or two, whisk me back to those dark, sweaty, special nights:

The Sisters of Mercy - Alice/Temple of Love

We might as well get this out of the way right now. Also, I couldn't decide between Alice or Temple of Love (the original version, of course!). Most of the tracks on this list regularly get a play and not merely as some nostalgia trip. I genuinely love these songs. I am aware of the limitations of The Sisters, but damn it do I not love these EPs with all my heart?! (I think that the second side of First and Last and Always is awesome; I like Floodland a fair bit and after that... well, it was nice while it lasted...). I still remember buying Alice and playing it to death. And then, because I was a goth, I played it some more. But for all that I will forever associate it with the dance floor downstairs at Temple Street. The smoky, murky, slight dampness is matched by the smoky, murky, slight dampness of the records.

I was never much of a dancer, but I did, especially in my earlier days, dance at Planet X. I remember dancing in the most offensively pretentious way. I think (my memory is as hazy as these records) I more or less just stood in one place, rocked a little, sucked in my cheekbones and waved my hands around like I was at Hogwarts or something. I am embarrassed thinking about it right now. I extend my sincerest and deepest apologies to anyone unlucky enough to witness such a spectacle. Anyway, that thing I did (I hesitate to call it a dance), I did regularly to Sisters of Mercy records. I think, thanks to muscle memory, I could recreate it all. I won't though.



Fields of the Nephilim - Preacher Man

It's the Sisters of Mercy tribute act nobody called for! I don't really care - I love this tune. It feels like it was made for Planet X. It even has an intro that was perfect for announcing its arrival to all the goths tired of Big Black and Dead Kennedy's songs that were too fast to dance to. Preacher Man had all the components of dance floor gold at Planet X; the false stops, the cues for when you were to throw your hands up into the air, a good tempo and lyrics that sound meaningful until you see them written down. I like that little guitar line too. We don't fear no contamination!






Wire - I Am The Fly

I'm cheating a little. When I hear this song, I am not transported to the Planet. I am, however, transported to X-Stremes, which was a little clothes shop in an underground arcade running from Rainford Gardens to Stanley Street. Like many Planet X regulars, this was a mainstay of goth fashion shopping and part of the typical Saturday tour of Liverpool.

(The tour, in my time at least, orientated around Probe Records on Button Street, but included Backtracks next door, an amusement arcade across the road, X-Stremes, the Lisbon pub, the tea rooms on Rainford Gardens, and there was a burger joint on the corner of Stanley Street I've forgotten the name of. The more adventurous might extend as far as Bold Street or Renshaw Street to take in Penny Lane records or 69A, a three (?) storey shop of curios and vintage fashion. Later, the fantastic bazaar of Quiggins added to the mix.)

Anyway, right at the outset of my baby-goth days I was in X-Stremes and the clanging, motoric, repetition of I Am The Fly was playing out and that one time was enough to etch it once and for all in my memory.




Cabaret Voltaire - Nag, Nag, Nag

Brian Eno famously declared that Donna Summer's I Feel Love was the future. I still agree with him. However, if the future takes a different turn (and in the current political climate, it just might), this record might be a song from an alternative timeline - something a little like the second Planet of the Apes movie, where humans have ruined the environment and technology beyond recognition. The song sounds toxic to my ears; everything about it sounds contaminated. And yet, much like Donna Summer's classic, there's something about it that is perfect for the dance floor.



New Model Army - The Hunt

This song was a dance floor filler every time but it seemed to have one purpose and one purpose only and that was to get everyone to throw their hands in the air in unison. Lots of goth songs had that aspiration but none were as successful as this. Lynx advertisers missed a trick... New Model Army always got a lot of love in the Planet. With this one, it's easy to see why.




Spear of Destiny - Liberator

This is a song, I think, that it's best not to think too much about - just take it as it is and enjoy it. Lyrically, nothing really makes any sense. The only thing I'm really sure about is that Kirk Brandon thinks he's liberating something. And he sure does a lot of it in this song. Musically, I am not sure it's that good either - it begins with a saxophone, which is a curious choice. And there are loads of bits to it with drums and whooping, building up to ... nothing much, really. Just more of Brandon's liberating. But for all this, in my memory, this is a monumental anthem. The chorus, where Brandon sustains the 'I' (of the 'I am a Liberator') is genuinely exciting. I wish I could get back to enjoying it so unquestioningly.



Dead Kennedys - Holiday in Cambodia

Was anybody a purist at Planet X? I don't think anybody was only into one thing; i.e. only goth stuff or punk stuff or whatever. One of the Planet's chief virtues to me is that it was a melting pot. Unlike Conservative political slogans, we genuinely were all in it together. However, there were moments were we did split off into our particular tribes. These moments were often on the dance floor, and there were good reasons for this. A stray goth pretending to dance to a Dead Kennedy's song could get accidentally punched in the face - even this one, which is a little goth (if we're honest). Yup, the stray goth was me and I hazarded a little foray onto the dance floor during this track. Andy Robinson (not the Hellraiser actor) was enjoying the track to its full potential, swinging his arms about enthusiastically. I am not sure he ever realised - I figured that it wasn't deliberate. (That said, it was me dancing, in my typically obnoxious style... so maybe it was!) Anyway, I cannot listen to it without remembering my surprise. I think it was the second chorus - after I had been lulled into a false sense of security.



Patti Smith - Because the Night

I never heard this downstairs at Temple Street, only ever upstairs on the jukebox. In honesty, the song feels incongruous with my memory of Planet X, like it was the vestige of some other nightclub. And yet, when I hear it, even when I am listening to the whole of Easter and I hear it in that context, I am upstairs in the Planet, playing on the Kiss pinball machine, silently watching the wall of TV screens invariably showing Bauhaus videos, navigating the toilets, or just enjoying a modicum of semi-light in contast to the semi-darkness of downstairs. Even when I heard the Bruce Springsteen version of it, finally released in 2011 on The Promise, I am still taken back.

I would love to see the contents of that jukebox again.




Big Black - Kerosene

Much like Preacher Man above, this song announces its arrival with a unique introduction. Unlike Preacher Man (which I do enjoy, by the way) this track is a total monster. Steve Albini is widely recognised as a genius musician and producer, but I would love to have seen what he might have done with a ton of cash and a Max Martin pop song. Kerosene is a killer on the dance floor and is SO exciting to listen to - ironic, really, since the song is all about being bored.



The Pogues - Sally MacLennane

There were a number of songs that I remember closing the various evenings. I suspect that different DJs had their own preferences, but even now when I hear these songs they feel like the end of the night, even when, like this it could still be kicking off the party and not closing it. I was often sad to be on my way. It typically meant trying to find a taxi after two in Liverpool city centre.



Anyway, whenever I hear these ten tracks (and many many more, to be honest) my memory takes me back to those days. As much as I would have enjoyed the songs without the memories, that the songs bring me back to this place makes them more pleasant.

As a coincidence, as I finish writing this post, there has been another huge thread on the Planet X Facebook page. Lots of people have been posting or re-posting photographs of themselves during this period. I love this. I am generally pretty dismissive of my childhood, specifically my teenage years. I hated school, and home life was mostly just boring. There's not that much I look back on wistfully. (Not that it was particularly bad, mind - just 'meh'...) Anyway, there are three things from my childhood that I am wistful about: My childhood Christmasses (they were good), discovering music, and Planet X. Doreen and the endless list of people who I could name but won't made this magical place for me. Again, there's not much from those years I'd like to repeat, but the thrill of being sixteen or thereabouts, and being in a world like Planet X again, that would be special. I am grateful that I was there then.


Monday, 31 December 2018

2018: Albums of the Year?

The question mark in the title here is very deliberate. This list is to be taken even less seriously than my usual 'year' lists. I have paid attention to exactly 32 albums from 2018 out of goodness knows how many - far too few to be considered a proper overview.

One of the things I really like about the 1970s lists I have been doing is that many of those albums have been with me for years, if not decades. They have had their opportunity to grow on me. These records have not. Between now and, say, 2020, I'll buy more records from 2018 and I will listen to the ones I have more. Some will grow on me and others will fade.

Nonetheless, this is a place-marker, a suggestion as to what has stood out and is worthy of a comment. I'll not say much, I don't think.

These are in reverse order.

Blood Orange - Negro Swan



This is Dev Hynes fourth album and if this album matches the others, it'll take a long while to grow on me. It has begun that process, I think, but I am still finding it strange. Typically the first time I listen to his records, I find them curious 80s RnB throwbacks slightly too reminiscent of Prince. However, I am sufficiently tempted to return to them and each time new bits and pieces emerge and eventually I recognise something special. Time will tell with Negro Swan but it's looking promising.


Alele Diane - Cusp



I find Alela Diane's voice like a prettier, more delicate version of Nico. Her voice has a similar stridency. Her medium is a folksier Americana, though, and she has a far stronger sense of melody. The voice, though, forbids any whimsy and tilts towards the foreboding, the mournful - songs of loss and uncertainty.


Pusha T - Daytona



The first Kanye West production this year is the best, I think (although I did quite enjoy West's own Ye and his collaboration with Kid Cudi Kids See Ghosts). The beats are inventive and latch onto my mind and don't let go. The opener (If You Know You Know) kicks a steady organ, bass, drum rhythm which is catchy enough in itself but it is punctuates with sped up samples and other effects, adding hooks to hooks. Every track is simply fun to listen to.

Let's come at it another way - Kanye has been extra Kanye this year. There's a lot of people who would have been happy to see him tumble, especially with people like Kendrick ready to take his crown. And yet, when this came out, everyone jumped back on the Kanye train.


NAO - Saturn



This British neo-soul singer was new to me but I picked this up on the basis of a few good reviews and did not regret it. It's very much a slow to mid-tempo affair with deep grooves that make me want to nod my head. Irresistible.


Robyn - Honey



There's a lot of discussion about how this album is the first after six years for Robyn and how this follows a difficult time in her life and such like. That is great. What I care about more than any of this is that she is back and she is still awesome. She still does what she does better than anyone - uptempo dance pop music that doesn't feel like drunken nights out are its only relevant arena. Instead, while they have the bass, the beats, the fun, they are also well-crafted and thoughtful records. Robyn's back.


Janelle Monae - Dirty Computer



For many, this has proven album of the year. Despite the fact that it is on my list, I am actually a little disappointed in it. I've loved Janelle since her first EP and for me, this record represents a step backwards. There are a number of deeply catchy tunes and, please don't get me wrong, this is a fun album but it tilts too much towards the obvious. Monae's dependency on Prince feels a little too on the nose. And, I feel a little uncomfortable saying this since I wholly agree with Monae on pretty much all things, the 'wokeness' of the album feels overt to the point of being distracting.


Kacey Musgraves - Golden Hour



According to Metacritic, this was album of the year and it was only then that it hit my radar. As a result, it's still new to me and settling in. All the same, it was easy to see why this made the splash that it did - it's gorgeous. It's country music but it tips its stetson firmly popward. But Kacey Musgrave seems more grown up than Taylor Swift and so it feels more grounded, less frothy. It has more of a yacht rock feel to it, and that to me, ain't no bad thing. I have a strong feeling that this will definitely be a regular player.


Courtney Barnett - Tell Me What You Really Think



I was a big fan of Barnett's debut album proper Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit. I appreciate the Dylan comparisons but I am wary of them. Lyrically, she is very very engaging (and I think that they will continue to grow on me) but the nature of her songs feel more ephemeral than Dylan. Either way, regardless of what she is or is not singing about, she matches them with melodies and songs that are catchy and engaging and make you want to come back and spend more time with them.


U.S. Girls - In a Poem Unlimited



Like several people this year, I only discovered Meg Remy (U.S. Girls) this year. Apparently, she's been about for a few years, beginning with more avant-garde sound collages (as I understand it) and has gradually crept in towards more straightforward song-writing. I'd suggest that she is a catchier and more pop-savvy Bat For Lashes. It is basically art-pop but definitely at the more more fun end. M.A.H. is protest song via Abba and a glitterball. I love it.


Kali Uchis - Isolation



I have been wittering on about Kali Uchis forever now. Everyone must be SO bored. To be honest, I figured that she'd be sitting in album of the year territory, but no... Despite having a higher critic score than many of her peers, she was passed over. This caused me some consternation...

I decided that the most likely reason was that Isolation is so summery, it feels a little out of place in the colder days and darker nights. Uchis's voice is warm and summery and somewhere between Latin and Jazz and just oozes balmy summer nights. She is so well versed in popular music, especially girl groups, bossa nova, reggae, as well as 70s soul, that the album covers a lot of ground. But it never feels like it has to try - it almost feels sleepy.

I'm heading to the Primavera Sound festival in May, Kali Uchis is playing. I'm not going to pretend like she isn't one of the main draws!

2018: Things That Made Me Happy

Note that there is no question mark in this title!

We hear so much about what makes us unhappy. And there are plenty of things that make us unhappy. I enjoy a good complain - I'm quite good at it, but I think that it can become quite psychologically unhealthy. In contrast, what I think is quite good for us is to celebrate the things that make us happy.

This post is, unusually, going to be rather personal. I make no apologies.

In approximately ascending order of happiness:


Health

My health is not perfect. I am nearing 50 and stuff is faltering. I've also had an ongoing anxiety-type thing that is still interfering with me a little. But despite all this, by and large, I am in good shape. This is really good and I should be grateful for that.


This Blog

This is far from being an awesome blog as I am sure you will attest, but I enjoy it. I am inconsistent about it, should perhaps plan my posts a little more, perhaps post a little more even. But it's been nice to keep the ball in the air, so to speak. People have been really lovely in commenting a little and giving me a little feedback. This makes me very happy.


Music

As you might have guessed, I love music and finding new music. And this year has been no exception. Obviously there is the records released this year (talked about here) but also older ones that I have somehow missed. I never fail to be blown away by things.


My Masters

Who'd have thought a few years ago that I would have had the chance to go back to university and do my Masters degree? Not me. Who'd have thought that it would have gone so well? When I began, I was just happy to be given the opportunity, but to come out with a Distinction was a massive thing to me. I am generally of the opinion that I am more lucky than talented (etc.) - I just happened to be in the right place and so on - but this was a real counter-example, and that makes me happy!



PhD

Again, much like the MA, this is incredible and I keep having to pinch myself to confirm that it is really happening. I can't believe that I have been given the opportunity to do this. I have the opportunity to learn about interesting things, to go to interesting places, and to meet interesting people. That's pretty damned cool!


Friends

One thing that has come from the MA and PhD is more friends. I am really lucky and grateful that I have such a number of friends in so many circles. I have close friends who I see most days and friends at university, but also old colleagues and old students. People are so lovely and it is awesome to spend time with them.


Family

Ditto following friends. I am lucky to have a family that love me and do their best to support me. Bonus point: they're not mad!


Che

Watching Che grow up over this last couple of years has been amazing. As anyone who knows us will be aware of, Che's teenage years were a struggle. Like most parents and their teenage children there were moments that I could have killed her. I always knew that that time would pass but it was sometimes hard to see the wood for the trees, and I have no doubt that if it were Che writing this post she would have her own frustrations with me (and likely some of them are well justified!) Anyway, my baby is all grown up now. Seeing her manage work, her own place, Ronnie, her new little brother, is awesome to me. And she passed her driving test and got a car!


Vincent

Who saw this coming? Well, me, for a little while anyway. But he's here now and he is lovely and awesome and charming. Of course, he is only 5 months, so all that needs to be considered through that prism. It's ridiculous and yet perfectly natural how much his dumb stupid smile cheers me up. And his laugh! And his 'talking'. It warms this dead old heart, I tells ya!



Bella

There is one person that makes all this worthwhile in a way that no other does. She looks after me and cares for me and sees me in a way that no-one else does. I can't believe how wonderful Bella is to me. She should know better - she's so clever and yet she still indulges me and makes me happy. I hope that I make her as happy as she makes me. I don't figure my chances to highly, but I'll keep trying!

2018: TV and Movies of the year?

The question mark in the title is deliberate. I have neither watched enough TV or movies this year to even begin to make such a suggestion. All this is, then, is a brisk overview of some bits and pieces that I have particularly enjoyed from the year.

A measure of how much of a deficit is in place regarding what I have watched against what has been produced is illustrated, at least in part, by the fact that I was originally going to do two posts - one for movies and one for TV - and then I realised that I have not seen enough genuinely remarkable cases of each to fill such posts. More so, at least two entries here should properly be considered 2017 releases. I'm not going to worry about it...

Anyway, here, TV first and then movies, are my picks - in no particular order:


The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Netflix)



Scary Sabrina, I call this. The original show with Melissa Joan Hart, I call Happy Sabrina. Sad Sabrina is Buffy, The Vampire Hunter. (So far as I care to discuss the matter, they're all sort of the same - teenage girl navigates 'muggle' life and a new-found super-natural reality.)

Of course, it's not super scary, but it tries. It's still mostly silly but it has a greater sense of foreboding than either of the other shows. Either way, I found it pretty entertaining. I like that it tries to be stylish and a bit gory and a bit 'woke'. I'm looking forward to the next season.

The Deuce (HBO)



This is a David Simon show. I needn't say too much more. Like The Wire, it contains a world that is both intimate and sweeping and the world in this case is Times Square, New York in the early 1970s, when it was still full of skin flicks and prostitutes. Primarily, the show revolves around the intersecting stories of Vincent's attempts to run a bar and Candy's move from prostitute to getting behind the camera. It's gritty and unsentimental whilst being utterly honest and true about it's characters. Everything is shades of grey - even the worst villains have human warmth.

The Terror (AMC)



This horror drama blew me away early this year. That said, the horror element was oddly superfluous in that the drama offered enough tension and intrigue without requiring much of the apparent threat from some mysterious arctic beastie. In brief, The Terror concerned a pair of ships tasks with finding a short cut through the arctic wastes in the mid 19th century. The pig-headedness of the commander resulted in the ships being stranded for three years and the crew turning on each other. I'll say no more but the psychological terror of such a scenario was deeply compelling to me.


The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon Prime)



I'm still watching season 2 of this, but I have been loving it so much. It concerns a Jewish housewife at the turn of the 1960s who gets caught up in the nascent stand-up comedy scene in New York. My friend Paul didn't gel with it finding it overly mannered. I can't argue with that conclusion but I hold it as a strength. It is deftly choreographed both in movement and dialogue, coming across a little like a stage play. The supporting cast are also excellent. I am loving this show!


Taskmaster (Dave)



OK, I know - I am really pushing the 2018 inclusion here. This show properly started in 2015 and I began watching it in 2017. However, it was in 2018 that my enthusiasm for it got out of control. Bella and I rewatched all seven seasons this year and I still can't quite decide which one was my favourite, although I sadly must confess that I find season six the weakest.

I don't need to tell you the premise, do I? If you haven't seen it, please just go watch it. It's on Dave or the UKPlay channel.


Hereditary



Horror films have been massively on the upturn in the last few years. I think that the potential of the genre is really beginning to become apparent. Really good horror movies are rarely about the ghosts, ghosts and monsters that are present within them. Instead, they are metaphors come to life. The director of Hereditary said that he wanted to make a film about suffering that took suffering seriously. In particular the effect that it has on families and the way that that suffering manifests through the generations. In this case, the death of the matriarch and the issues that she possessed begin to manifest in her daughter and her two children. This is presented in a Rosemary's Baby type story that is genuinely unsettling.


A Quiet Place



John Krasinski has had an incredible year. IMDB tells me that he has been busy in the time since The Office concluded in 2013, but I have largely missed him until both this incredible film and 'Action Jim'. (Action Jim is better known as Amazon Prime's Jack Ryan adaptation.) The latter was very entertaining in a 24 cum Homeland kinda way, but this film, also directed by Krasinski, is on a whole other level. The synopsis suggests a future where most people have been killed by creatures who are blind, but with incredible hearing. Krasinski's family (in the film), along with real-life wife Emily Blunt, survive by using sign language. The movie is so small in scope it has a real intimacy and so when things go awry (you knew they were going to), there is a real sense of investment. The film is a solid achievement and a real indication that Krasinski's career is looking pretty healthy!


Christopher Robin



If I have an Achilles heel, it is the dynamic of childhood to adulthood and the urge that we put away childish things. It is important to grow up, of course, but childish things can still speak to us. Not only can they, but they should and we should listen. One iteration of that dynamic is Puff the Magic Dragon, where Little Jackie Paper grows up and abandons Puff, who is left sad and lonely. Winnie the Pooh is another. When Christopher Robin grows up, despite his promises, we know that he will forget Pooh and the One Hundred Acre Wood. This film forces a grown up, miserable Christopher Robin to revisit his friends and shows how they refresh his outlook on life and revitalise his relationships.

The film is, of course, silly and a little sentimental and elements of it tilt towards the obvious. Nonetheless, the portrayal of Pooh and Piglet and the others is very charming - a nice blending of the Disney version and the original E.H. Shepherd illustrations. Ewan McGregor is right as Robin as his Hayley Atwell as his wife. The story is heartwarming and engaging - I loved it!


Tag



I don't have a huge amount to say about this except that it was really stupid and I enjoyed it a lot. It concerns a bunch of friends who have maintained game of tag since childhood and, despite being the 40s, have not put it behind them. It is stupid and is pretty obvious, but I bought into it and enjoyed it beyond reason.


Jumanji



Again, much like Tag I am not inclined to say too much. Again, it is silly and stupid and sort of obvious, but again I enjoyed it enormously. The premise is similar to the Robin Williams original, four disparate kids (breakfast club style) are brought together for a detention of cleaning up an old stock room. In it they find a video game - a magic video game where they are all transported into the world - Jumanji and then they have find their way back. No big surprises...

However, part of the joy of this is seeing the kid's characters represented as video-game cliches. The nerdy weak kid is Dwayne Johnson, the stuck up princess is Jack Black, the jock is Kevin Hart, the bookish nerdy girl is played by Karen Gillan. Again, nothing surprising. But for a dumb movie, I found a lot to be entertained by.


Disappointment of the Year: The Meg

How can you mess up Jason Statham and a giant shark? To be fair, it wasn't terrible but it was a lot less than it should have been. Sad face.

(Apparently studio interference de-fanged it....)