Rainer Maria? I'll take the rain.

My wife has been in two plays for the past month. It's been really nice for her, because she gets to act. It's been even better for me, because I get to spend a lot of time at home without my wife, which means I get to do all the things I want to do without her judging me. Most guys would take advantage of this by drinking milk straight from the carton or watching a lot of weird porn. I don't really like milk, and I can always make time for weird porn, so I've been using this as an opportunity to listen to a lot of the albums that I love and my wife hates.

My wife has (generally) good taste. I, of course, have (generally) impeccable taste. I feel like the quote that best sums up my wife's reaction to most of the music I like is “Boy, this is nice but I'm kinda looking for something that has a melody.” Uhhhhhh can't you figure out where the melody is in this song? The drummer is playing in 9/8, the violin is playing in waltz time and the guitarist is belching into his pickups. What are you, some kind of idiot? Her next most frequent complaint is “I hate her fucking voice.” We'll examine that a little later.

Tonight I plan to examine the three best albums that my wife absolutely hates. I might even make her listen to one of them later. She'll love that!



The Velvet Underground & Nico

The disc that launched a thousand nerds. My first encounter with this album was my freshman year of college, when I decided to do a causal dissertation on the history of rock music. I figured this album would be the best place to start, so I had to actually sit down and listen to it. This was really my first exposure to truly dissonant music, particularly European Son and The Black Angel's Death Song. It's a lot of screeching and freeeeee-owwwww-claaaaang! I grew to appreciate the horrible screeching. Now I love it. Musical Stockholm Syndrome? Perhaps. Lou Reed broke my ankles with a sledgehammer, but at least I learned to love it.

Why does my wife hate this album? Horrible screeching, below average singing, pretentiousness.

Why do I like this album? Horrible screeching, pretentiousness. We're one hell of a match!



Rainer Maria – Long Knives Drawn

I was first exposed to this album right around the time I first heard VU & Nico. My friend Rin and I would skip class and drive around the eastern portion of Massachusetts and Rhode Island, listening to this album. It reminds me of warm spring days, chain-smoking in Rin's Oldsmobile. The songs are catchy and well-put together, musically speaking. The lyrics are more than a little on the emo side of things – songs about walking around with your boyfriend's hand in your back pocket and sunrises being “two gazes long.” While the lyrics are bad, the real problem here is that the vocalist, Caithlin De Marrais, isn't exactly the world's greatest singer. I feel that her voice fits the music, my wife feels that her voice is like an ice pick to the forehead.

Why does my wife hate this album? Bad singing!

Why do I like this album? Catchy songs, transports me to a better place.



Jefferson Airplane – Volunteers

I have all the sensibilities of a 1960's counterculturist, but with a crippling fear of hallucinogens. I make up for this by really, really liking psychedelia, in all of its forms. Oh, except those stupid posters with the cartoon drawings of mushrooms. Black light posters are the worst kind of white trash. (It says a lot about me that my opinion of President Obama went way up when I heard about his possible association with Weatherman Bill Ayers.) Anyhow, the album that really exemplifies the whole psychedelic countercultural movement of the San Francisco hippy freak out dens of the 60's is, of course, Volunteers. The first song contains the lyrics “Up against the wall, motherfuckers,” the rallying cry of both the Black Panthers and, of course, the Motherfuckers. There are songs about man's cruelty to nature, living on a communal farm, subjugating societal norms by strong-arming the government, and of course, Vietnam. This might be the single greatest example of the culture of the 1960's.

Then there's Grace Slick. I love Grace Slick. I love her, I love her voice, I love everything about her. Now, take all those things I just said, replace the word “love” with “hate,” and now you know how my wife feels about Grace Slick.

Why does my wife hate this album? Horrible screeching, pretentiousness, bad singing. (Hat trick!)

Why do I like this album? Horrible screeching, pretentiousness, oh, and I'm not a square, man. Your Great Society has no bearing on me, man.

---

My wife got home a little while ago, and I told her about this essay. She wanted to know which albums I picked, and she made a face. “Ick. You're right, I do hate all of those albums. I'm unhappy just thinking about them.” I'm offering her a chance to write a rebuttal. Hopefully it's loud and incoherent – that way I'll understand her.

Holy cow, I'm interviewing Piney Gir!

Piney Gir, nee Angela Penhaligon, grew up in Kansas City. She decided to pack her bags and head out to London some time back, and seems to have found a nice little niche in the UK indie scene. She and I have become kinda sorta pals over the past few months and, though we were unable to work together this month as a result of some horrible volcanic ash, she was kind enough to answer a few questions for my really, really, really small potatoes blog. This was quite a thrill for me, seeing as I've been championing her music for the past four years. I was introduced to her via an MC Lars song titled “Internet Relationships,” a song about how you shouldn't meet people online. Good advice – just ask my wife.

I feel that it ought to be noted that I emailed my questions to Piney, and when they came back the questions were purple and her responses were pink. This may have happened accidentally, but I prefer to imagine that everything that passes through Piney's hands turns from “normal” to “delightful.” On with the interview!

Tinnitus Project: Your themes seem to vary greatly from song to song. Seeing as you seem to be a rather chipper person, where do you draw from for your darker lyrics - songs like "Weeping Machine" and "There was a Drunk?"

Piney Gir: Ummm... well nobody can be chipper 100% of the time, can they? I draw inspiration from the sad stuff as well as the happy stuff, I think a lot of creative people do. I almost feel like a reporter/songwriter and it would be unfair to present only one side of the story. I think people connect to the spectrum of emotions because everyone has different feelings from day to day. Some days are good, some days are bad; I write about both.

TP: I know you've got a day job. How much of the stuff you do - recording, videos, touring, et cetera - is self-funded?

PG: Everything I do is self-funded. I sometimes make a little money playing a big festival or getting a lot of radio play for a single and that money goes towards touring, making a video, recording an album, etc. I try to do things on the cheap and I'm lucky to have some really great people who want to collaborate with me so yeah, I am a DIY kind of girl with some lovely friends who help me! I'd love to do music full-time, I'd love to get a little help sometimes financially of course... and I think if I carry on plugging away at it that will one day happen, meanwhile I love what I do.

TP: One of the things you do fairly often is rearrange and re-release your own songs - five of the songs on "Peakahokahoo" were countrified and re-recorded for "Hold Yer Horses," and a new, faster version of "I Don't Know Why I feel Like Crying But I Do" is going to be on your next album, "Jesus Wept." Is this something you do to accommodate various lineups for your band, or is it just to keep things interesting for yourself?

PG: That's a good question! The Piney Gir Country Roadshow (who I made the album "Hold Yer Horses" with) sort of started by accident. You see "Peakahokahoo" (my first album) was really electronic and the live show was borderline 'electro' and I was asked to support this awful British-Americana band (there is a whole scene out here in the UK with people singing in fake American accents it's so weird!).

Anyway, I didn't think my electro set-up would compliment the evening... we were playing in a working men's club in Westminster, it was cool, but not suitable for an electro-chanteuse like me. So I got some friends together to do country covers of my first album. We never set out to be a band but people loved the gig so much we got booked to play show after show, we did like 20 festivals that summer, had loads of BBC sessions, it was amazing!

So we recorded "Hold Yer Horses" which included some of the country covers from my first album and a few new songs. We started doing that song "I Don't Know Why I Feel Like Cryin' But I Do" live and it was fun to rock it up really wild and upbeat so that's where that new version came from. Is that a long story?

TP: You've mentioned in other interviews that due to your parents' anti-secular music stance, you're just now getting around to listening to many modern-day legends like Bowie and Dylan and the like. Seeing as the goal of this site is to expand my personal horizons, is there anything you'd like to suggest?

PG: I've recently discovered The Four Lads. Have you heard of them? [Editor's note: Yes, but only because They Might Be Giants do a cover of “Istanbul”] They are so wholesome that I probably would have been allowed to listen to them, but I have only just found them. I love the song Skokkian. I've got really into the Kinks lately too (which I certainly wouldn't have been allowed to listen to).

TP: Finally, and I feel most importantly, you seem to have a fascination with bees - specifically adorable bees. As a fan of all adorable creatures, I can certainly understand. Why bees, though? I mean, bees are kinda scary, you know?

PG: I think it is precisely their scariness that I like. I mean, they are cute and stripy, they like flowers and make honey (yumm). How twee is that? But they work work work until they can't work anymore, they will die for their queen, they can sting you if they want to and that hurts - it can even kill you. I guess bees are kind of like people.

Piney Gir's first three albums - “Peakahokahoo,” “Hold Yer Horses,” and “The Yearling” can all be purchased on iTunes. Her fourth album, “Jesus Wept” is scheduled to be released in the UK this August, and will likely be available on iTunes as well. It's really, really good.

Reader suggestions: Dawn of Victory, The American in Me, '77 Live, The Yearling

You may recall that last week my computer crashed and I had to reformat my hard drive. I lost everything – all my writing, all my music, and most importantly the Excel spreadsheet that contained all of the albums I was planning to review, ordered by artist, year, genre, year/all time ranking, and whether or not it was actually good. All gone. Blech. This week, rather than reliving the nightmare that is spreadsheet making, I thought I'd take some suggestions from people on Facebook. I received tips from friends, co-workers, my wife's cousin, his mom, and even a real, live professional writer. I'll be reviewing three of their suggestions and one album that I just plain like. Sounds like a compromise! Also, in lieu of handing out letter grades, I'm just going to post pictures from Natalie Dee Dot Com.



Rhapsody – Dawn of Victory
Suggested by Christian Petersen

When I asked for suggestions, my wife's cousin Christian was kind enough to suggest this glorious turd of a record. He described it as “Power metal to accompany a D&D tournament.” First of all, there's no such thing as competitive D&D. It's a game of the IMAGINATION! You can't just win a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. Sheeeeeeeesh. You sound like my mom.

Anyhow, for a genre that is supposed to be mean and badass, most of the songs on this album lend themselves quite nicely to fanciful prancing – despite having titles like “Dargor, Shadowlord of the Black Mountain” and “The Bloody Rage of the Titans” and “Triumph for my Magic Steel.”

Yeah it's acclaimed (by one person), but is it good?

Nope! As somebody who once heard the Tori Amos cover of Slayer's “Raining Blood,” I am an expert on metal. I can safely say that this squeedly-meedly-deedle-fest fails to do what all good metal ought to – freak out normals like me. At no point during this album did I want to run for the hills like a bat out of Hell, or enter any kind of sandman. I just kind of wanted to be listening to something good.

Worth listening to for: Un(?)intentional comedy. I can't tell if it was bad on purpose or not.

Overall grade:





Steve Forbert – The American in Me
Suggested by Zina Petersen

Zina is Christian's mom, and my wife's aunt. Crazy how that works. Anyhow, she suggested Steve Forbert's The American in Me, which, if I didn't know about Zina's politics – left of Howard Zinn – I would assume was an album of Glenn Beck-inspired spoken-word pieces about starting your own independent, cabin-based nation in Plentywood, Montana. Luckily, it's just kinda folky rock-type music.

It seems that Steve Forbert can't decide whether he wants to be John Mellencamp or Bob Dylan, so he stays somewhere in the unsatisfying middle. This was a particularly tough listen for me because while I love Bob Dylan, I really, really hate John Mellencamp. Forbert seems to borrow from Dylan's musical style, simple arrangements, each verse punctuated by a short harmonica solo. Sadly, he channels John Mellencamp's midwestern malaise lyrical style. Each song seems to be about struggling to get by, trying to figure out what you want in your small town, something about being your daddy's son, wheat, little pink houses, two American kids doing the best they can, and so on.

Yeah it's acclaimed (by one person), but is it good?

Tough to say. I didn't particularly care for it because – and feel free to accuse me of being an elitist musical snob, because that's what I am – it was too safe. Very easy to listen to with a few really good songs, but ultimately it feels unrewarding.

Worth listening to for: “Hurts So Good” and “Wild Night.” Wait, I mean “Born Too Late” and “New Working Day.”

Overall grade:





Les Rallizes Dénudés – '77 Live
Suggested by Blaine Capatch

Blaine Capatch, the only person to suggest an album this week who ever hosted a game show on Comedy Central, sold me on Les Rallizes Dénudés with the following description: “Late-sixties Japanese psychedelic lords of feedback. The bass player hijacked an airliner INTO North Korea. What are you waiting for?” He makes a compelling point.

Finding this album was no easy task. You can't buy any of their stuff on iTunes, they don't have a bin at Amoeba, and the sites from which one could illegally download music – if that was something that people did – provided me with nothing. I finally tracked down a copy about six minutes before I started writing this essay, and I've been listening the whole time. It's screechy.

Yeah it's acclaimed (by one person), but is it good?

I certainly think so, but I feel so far removed from what is actually good music that I can never tell if something is great or if I'm just a pretentious asshole. I read an article today about assholes who like “challenging music” and the weird nerdy superiority complex it breeds. Well guess what – guilty as fucking charged. I love music that dares you to like it. It may sound like incomprehensible screeches to you, but to me it sounds like me being smarter than you. This is especially weird considering how much I hated Ornette Coleman's Free Jazz. I'm a horrible monster and I pray for death.

Worth listening to for: “The Last One” and “Ice Fire.”

Overall grade:





Piney Gir – The Yearling
Suggested by me

I'm not going to pretend to write an objective review of this album. I'm just going to tell all of you to listen to it. As I'm sure many of the people reading this know, I was contacted by Piney about a month ago asking to help her set up some gigs and maybe shoot a music video when the band comes to Los Angeles at the end of April. I'm also sure that you're all sick of me constantly talking about how great her music is. Do all of us a favor – you, me and Piney – just go download her albums on iTunes. The Yearling is her most recent effort, and it's pretty fantastic.

Yeah it's acclaimed (by me), but is it good?

I'd like to think that I have really good taste, and that everything I enjoy is something that everyone else should enjoy. In most cases I know this isn't true – if it were, everyone would own every Frank Zappa album. In this case, however, I know for a fact that Piney's music is actually, factually, scientifically, mathematically good, and if you don't like it, you're broken on the inside and cannot be fixed. There, I said it.

Worth listening to for: “For the Love of Others” and “Not Your Anything”

Overall grade:

Recently, at stately Grimmer Manor...

The single worst feeling in the world is when you take a look at your present situation, and realize the only solution is to reformat your hard drive.

That happened to me the other day. I had already prepared this week's albums, and as I was putting them on my iPod so that I could listen to them on my way to sleep, or as I call it, "The Land of Sugar and Whales," my computer crashed. I tried the better part of the next twelve hours attempting to repair it, and nothing worked. I tried resetting the computer's settings to a previous state, I tried backing up my files on an external drive - I even tried crying and pounding my head against a wall. Nothing worked.

What I'm saying is this week's post will end up being (sssssssshocking) late. Probably by a day or two, but let's not rule out a week or indefinitely. But it'll probably just take a week. I need to go back through the Acclaimed Music archives, figuring out what I want to review for each year, getting the music and then, of course, listening to it and reviewing it for you, my beloved reader. I use the singular form of reader because judging by the comments section, my wife is the only person who reads this, and it's more for spelling and grammar than for actual content. I feel like I should missspell a word or something, just to make things interesting for her.

What will likely happen this week will be three reviews of albums that aren't on Acclaimed Music. Stuff that's either too weird or outside the mainstream or indie or whatever. Maybe a really, really bad album by an artist I like. Who knows? Not me. I'm exhausted. I couldn't have picked a better week to not write - I've been going to zoos and theme parks and shit all week, and I'm plumb tuckered out. See you soon.

Love always,
Yours in Christ,
Applauding your patriotism,

Grosses bises,

Josh Grimmer

PS - Within moments of posting this, my wife informed me that the word "plumb," as in "plumb tuckered out" has a "b" at the end. I told you.

New Sounds in Country and Western Music, Howlin' Wolf and Bob Dylan

Ich bin ein Berliner. 1962 saw a great many social changes in both America and the rest of the world. First, and most importantly, the Beatles recorded their first song. Other significant events include the invention of the interrobang, the publishing of A Clockwork Orange and the introduction of the introductory paragraph into my blog. Truly a watershed year. Also of note were releases from Ray Charles, Howlin' Wolf and the debut album from Bob Dylan.



Ray Charles - New Sounds in Country and Western Music
Year Rank: 1
Overall Rank: 236

I'm beginning to think that music criticism, on the whole, isn't actually good. Maybe Frank Zappa was right when he said “Most rock journalism is people who can't write, interviewing people who can't talk, for people who can't read.” Some of these albums that have been so highly acclaimed are boring and bland, and this is no different. Each song is very pleasant, well-orchestrated, and sung very nicely by Mr. Charles and his chorus. The biggest problem I have is that every song ends the same way. Ray sings the last line, and the chorus repeats it slower. This gets really old, really fast. The album gets better at the end, but I was sad to find that the copy that I got my hands on was a special edition with three extra songs, all of which were better than the original album. I've been had.

Yeah it's acclaimed, but is it good?

My issues begin here. I suppose that the songs themselves, individually, are all good. They're all B- songs. Certainly nothing to scoff at, but there's nothing really... exciting going on. I had this same problem last week when I reviewed Bobby Bland's Two Steps from the Blues album. All good songs, but I feel like I just listened to the same song twelve times in a row.

Worth listening to for: “Hey, Good Lookin'” and “That Lucky Old Sun” (It's a bonus track, but I'm sure you're not going to go out and buy the vinyl. It's on every CD version I've seen.)

Overall Grade: C. It's so fair-to-middling that I'm almost offended, considering how good I know Ray Charles actually is. I've been betrayed by rock journalism, who'da-thunkit?



Howlin' Wolf - Howlin' Wolf (AKA The Rockin' Chair Album)
Year Rank: 2
Overall Rank: 423

In stark contrast to the last album - polished, produced, sweet - Howlin' Wolf's self-titled album is rough, raw and bloody. The piano sounds like it was strung with barbed wire, Howlin' Wolf's voice sounds like it's on fire. It makes quite an impression. I'm certainly not the first to point out the incredible similarity between Howlin' Wolf's vocal style and that of Tom Waits. Neither has the dulcet, honey-sweet voice of that lousy hack Bobby Bland, rather, their voices convey a sense of aching and real pain.

This album sort of acts as a “Best Of” for Howlin' Wolf. At least, it certainly feels that way to me. Having listened to the actual “Best of Howlin' Wolf” album, I knew most of these songs before listening. Do yourself a favor and get this, rather than the official “Best Of.” It's a lot more cohesive.

Yeah it's acclaimed, but is it good?

Yes. Raw, screeching, pounding, stripped down. And good. There's an underlying tone of slinking sexuality permeating through the whole album. It feels sort of dangerous.

Worth listening to for: “Wang-Dang-Doodle” and “Going Down Slow”

Overall grade: A-. The first two tracks, “Shake For Me” and “The Red Rooster” aren't that great, but after that it picks up and really gets it done.



Bob Dylan - Bob Dylan
Year Rank: 14
Overall Rank: 1902

I love Bob Dylan. I think he's the greatest living musical genius. I especially love his early folk stuff. I had never listened to this album before yesterday. And it was... pretty good? Certainly uneven. Peaks and valleys. Also, I have to leave for work in about 13 minutes. Could you tell?

Yeah it's acclaimed, but is it good?

Pretty much, yeah. Some of the songs sound like Bob Dylan doing his Woody Guthrie impression, but that's what young artists do. I'd like to think my writing reads like a cut-rate Bill Simmons impression, but I'm sure that's too high praise for this.

Worth listening to for: “Baby, Let Me Follow You Down” and “House of the Rising Sun”

Overall grade: B? Sure. Sounds good. Off to work!

Two Steps from the Blues, Free Jazz, West Side Story

Bobby Bland - Two Steps from the Blues
Year Rank: 1
Overall Rank: 420

Bobby Bland must have read the How Stuff Works article on the blues. Each song on this album sounds exactly like the blues, but inauthentic. The lyrics all sound like somebody took a fishbowl, filled it with sad couplets, pulled them out randomly and set them all to music. The melodies are very predictable - standard progressions, standard beats - it's all very standard. If Bobby Bland couldn't sing, this record would be utterly unlistenable.

The album's not bad - it's just not good. Certainly not the best record of 1961. To paraphrase my wife's review of a Smiths mix tape once given to her by a guy who used to work for the Simpsons, each song sounds exactly the same, if in fact there are separate songs on this album and not just one long boring mess. Oh also, I hate the Smiths.

Yeah it's acclaimed, but is it good?

Not really? There are a couple of good songs, but they all sound like each other so it's tough to tell. I suppose the best way to listen to this album is by taking all of the individual songs, putting them on your iPod, and then putting the whole business on shuffle so you can hear one track at a time, interspersed between songs that don't sound as similar. As an album though, it sucks.

Worth listening to for: “Two Steps from the Blues” and “St. James Infirmary”

Overall grade: D+. I never need to listen to this album again, and you probably don't need to listen to it in the first place. Avoid.



Ornette Coleman - Free Jazz
Year Rank: 5
Overall Rank: 537

Before listening to this album I hoped the “free” in “Free Jazz” meant “gratis.” Turns out it means “awful.” So the way this album was recorded is Ornette Coleman and Eric Dolphy got together one day with a bunch of other musicians. I imagine it was like a game of pick-up basketball, where each dude got to draft his own band from a line of six or seven guys. They made teams of four, sat down in a studio and jazzed at each other for 37 straight minutes. No breaks. One band in the left speaker, one in the right.

I'm sure that the people responsible for this album had an awesome time recording it. It must have been incredibly impressive to watch, and loads of fun to play. To listen to the album, however, requires a herculean effort. To call my listening experience a chore would be an insult to doing the dishes (RICK REILLY JOKE). In the 37 minutes of alleged music, some really cool stuff does happen. When the two bands sync up, it's incredible. This happens five or six times throughout the album, and lasts for about 50 seconds each time. It's not worth slogging through the cacophonous tangle of sonic pubic hair just for that, though. This album, in a word, blows ass.

Yeah it's acclaimed, but is it good?

There's a story about the Parisian debut of Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. When the audience was first subjected to the ballet, there were riots. Things were quite literally set on fire. Their small French minds couldn't wrap themselves around the very difficult piece that Stravinsky had put together. A year later, the ballet returned to France, and was met with rave reviews. The lesson? French people are stupid. (PS I like Igor Stravinsky, but I prefer Petroushka to The Rite of Spring. Also, I'm a snob and a prick.)

Does this mean that in a year, I'll relisten to this album in the hopes that my brain has matured to the point that I'll enjoy this album? No. No no no. Not even a little. It's an amazing accomplishment. It's technically quite impressive. I never want to listen to this again.

Worth listening to for: Uhhhhh...

Overall grade: F. This is as bad as Scrappy Doo.



West Side Story - Original Film Soundtrack
Year Rank: 14
Overall Rank: 1504

Let me tell you, I've never been so excited to listen to “Cool” in my entire life. After 40 minutes of boring and 40 minutes of screeching madness, West Side Story felt like the scene in Shawshank when the guy gets out of the sewers. I hadn't seen the film version in about 12 years, and I hadn't listened to any of the music in about ten, so I had forgotten exactly how spectacular this record is. It's touching, it's funny, it's intelligent. With the exception of Marni Nixon's insane-o over the top fakey Puerto Rican accent, this really is a perfect musical experience.

The only problem I really have is that it's a lot tougher to write a positive review than a negative one. I guess I can complain about how much “Cool” sucks, and I could make hack jokes about how gay it is to be in a gang that sings and dances, but where's the fun in that?

Yeah it's acclaimed, but is it good?

Yes. I think I just made that abundantly clear. I should have thought the format of this blog out better before I committed to it. Sheesh.

Worth listening to for: “America” and “Quintet”

Overall grade: A+. Possibly the greatest film musical ever made. All praise is due to the Bernstein/Sondheim combo for rhyming “Puerto Rican” with “chicken.”

1960 - Giant Steps, Live at Newport, Blues and Roots

John Coltrane - Giant Steps
Year Rank: 1
Overall Rank: 334

The impression that a lot of people have about jazz from the late 50's and early 60's is that it's just a bunch of guys getting high and making their saxophones go “squeedy-dee-doo-squee” for five minutes. They then take a break and make a different set of “squeedy-dee-doo-squee” noises for another five minutes, and so on. Oh, and don't forget the one where the guy plays the high hat all day while the pianist just kinda goes at it.

This impression, while not wholly correct, is based on truth. Giant Steps by John Coltrane starts off with three songs that follow the “squeedy-dee-doo-squee” trajectory. I understand why people like this, but I really can't get into it. I like mostly like jazz, and without sounding too square (daddy-o), I prefer my jazz to be smooth. Not 94.7 KTWV The Wa-ee-ave smooth, but I guess just more... downbeat. Luckily for the second half of this album, Coltrane tones down the melodic spikes, making the the whole experience a lot more pleasant.

Yeah, it's acclaimed, but is it good?

Eh, yeah, after a while, I guess. Paul F. Tompkins defines a “jazz joke” as a note that is played in a place where it shouldn't be, to an allegedly humorous end. Everybody playing the instruments laughs, and then all the phonies in the audience chuckle along with them. The first half of this album feels like one big old jazz joke, which eventually settles into a pretty good and pleasant record. I just wish they'd gotten around to it sooner.

Worth listening to for: “Spiral” and “Naima”

Overall grade: B-. I'm willing to give this one the benefit of the doubt, because while I can't say it was life-changing in any way, I have listened to it three times in the past three days - twice volitionally. Could be worse.

---



Muddy Waters - Live at Newport 1960
Year Rank: 3
Overall Rank: 501

For most of my life I've lived with depression, though sadly I've never had the blues. You'd think I'd have at least gotten small outbreaks of the blues - I love cigarettes, whiskey, harmonicas, old cheap suits, warm beer, cold women - it all should add up to having the blues. The only problem I can see is that I'm not an old black dude with giant hands, which every great blues singer seems to be. Muddy Waters, being the Father of Chicago Blues, was no exception to this rule.

Waters' first live album, recorded at the 1960 Newport Jazz Festival, is exactly what you think of when you think of “the blues.” Muddy Waters' deep, resonant voice belting out songs about women leaving him over the crying harmonica and the thunderous rhythm section. It's truly fantastic. It used to be that if you released a live album, you'd just record one concert and just let that be your album, warts and all. I'm not sure when bands started cherry picking tracks from every stop on their tour and releasing what essentially becomes a live “best of” album. I'm much more interested in hearing a whole concert, or at least one contiguous chunk of a concert released as a record. It feels more natural. One of the highlights for this album is the encore of “Got My Mojo Workin',” a rolling call and response song that, once it ends, the crowd demands to hear it again.

Yeah, it's acclaimed, but is it good?

My God, yes. High energy and incredible musicianship make this album stand out as a shining star in a genre that can, at times, feel very derivative and repetitive. Even when the band plays the same song twice in a row, it feels less like repetition and more like an extended run of a successful play. The only problem I have with this album is that when Chess re-released it in 2001, they included bonus tracks from a different concert. The album is called Live in Newport, not Live in Newport and a Couple of Tracks in Chicago. Whatever.

Worth listening to for: “Got My Mojo Workin'” and “(I'm Your) Hoochie Coochie Man”

Overall grade: A+. This album is an especially impressive accomplishment considering that this is a soundboard recording from 50 years ago, and it sounds crystal clear.

---



Charles Mingus - Blues and Roots
Year Rank: 6
Overall Rank: 824

Blues and Roots suffers less from jazz jokes than its alleged better, Giant Steps. It is, however, not without its faults. One of the first (only) things I learned about musical theory is that theme and variation can be used to create pleasant solos for all your band members. The problem with this - and most - jazz recordings is that the band seems to veer a little too far away from the theme in their attempts to vary it, alienating the listener (me). Mingus' band is much better at reeling it in than the Coltrane crew, however, and the experience is a lot more satisfying.

This album has a good, swinging, almost spiritual feel. The first track, “Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting,” sounds like the musical sermon. One thing that Mingus does on this album that I appreciate is yell. He yells all the time. Sometimes they're musical cues, sometimes they're just yelling for the sake of yelling. A good, old-fashioned shout never hurt anybody. It rather helps here.

Yeah, it's acclaimed, but is it good?

I'll say yes, but it's not a home run or anything. Stand-up triple, I guess. Just as exciting as a home run, but not as good. Of the two jazz albums I've listened to this week, this is far and away the better one, so there's that.

Worth listening to for: “Moanin'” and “Tensions.”

Overall grade: B+. Whenever I listen to jazz and don't like it, I feel like I'm missing something. Maybe I'm missing something in the music, maybe I'm missing something inside of me. Either way, something's missing. The real problem comes when I listen to jazz and I do like it - I'm never sure why. It's pleasant, I guess. Good album, not the best. (What a glowing recommendation, right?)