Guilty of Noise Pollution

Blindfold Test #8

Real women like Sonja Kristina have Curved Air.

Did things a little bit differently this time — Instead of typing out notes while random-shuffling a 5000-song playlist at home, I handwrote out notes while listening to a 5000-song playlist in the car. (No I wasn’t driving at the time. I was waiting to pick my teenage daughter up from EMS Scouts.) In fact, I didn’t type up anything at all until a week later.

One result is that the writeups below generally strike me as less convoluted and stream-of-consciousy, tighter and more concise and maybe even (eek!) more record-review-like than previous installments in this series. Whether that makes them better or worse is up to you. Here’s a playlist if you want to listen along.

5000 songs, by the way, appears the maximum limit Napster (né Rhapsody) allows on playlists in general, which I realized last week when trying to add songs which…wouldn’t. So now whenever I add, I need to prune at least as many at the same time. Fine, since trimming dead weight/excess fat improves the listening experience. Anyhow:

Duchamp’s urinal had nothing on whatever the heck Tzara’s got here.

Tristan Tzara “Pour Compte“ (1948 recording compiled on Sub Rosa Belgium’s 1999 Lunapark 0,10 and LTM UK’s 2006 Voices of Dada; born Samuel Rosenstock in 1896 Romania, “one of the founders of the Dada movement and author of the Dada Manifesto, together with Hugo Ball he founded the Cabaret Voltaire…in Zürich, meeting point of the Dadaists” [discogs]) Spoken word, over-emoted and conceivably poetic, and I sense water bubbling in the background — nice touch! Took it for French at first but then decided it’s one of the dada guys which might mean Swiss instead. Needs more nonsense syllables. 4.5

Joyce Harris “No Way Out“ (1961 single compiled on anthologies such as Supersonic Sound’s 1987 Hot Boppin Girls Volume V and Koko Mojo Europe’s 2021 Rock and Roll Vixens #7; Bowling Green, Kentucky-born rockabilly singer): Screeching co-ed duet handclapper with the guy sounding r&b and doing comically pleading talk parts where he threatens to “jump out the windah” and the girl sounding rockabilly and more feral than the guy. He loves her so much he’s in misery, he swears, and it’s not too difficult to imagine why. 7.5

Vee VV “Love Canal” (1983 flexi-disc single included on Life Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness EP, 1988 and Payola anthology, 2019; “English indie rock group from Blackpool” [discogs]): Loud, jittery dance-oriented rock, i.e. probably early ’80s middle-American new wave, with the bassist leading the way and the drummer diverging off his main kit toward auxiliary percussive implements. Also “cancers” rhyming with “take your chances” and “love to make a big noise” rhyming at least twice with “cash it cool with environment toys.” And stuff about the Love Canal, á la Flipper, so presumably ecological disaster is a thematic concern. Nervous singer psycho-kills like David Byrne, but did Talking Heads ever sound this cranked up? 7

809 “Caramelo (Candy Girl)“ (single and on Ocho Sero Nueve, both 1999; Miami group mixing “merengue, salsa, reggae, rap and house music” [allmusic]): Thumping Latin boy-band pop with Snap!-style rapping, “O.P.P.” references, at least two young men doing Spanglish proto-reggaeton/urbano harmonies, and maybe even more repeatedly grunting shirtless hi-NRG weight-lifter/male-stripper “Hooh! Ha! Hooh-Ha! Ha!” chants that could almost be the Skatt Bros. Aimed at a caramel candy girl, possibly not the New Edition one. 7.5

The Sidewinders, “Reputation“ (from The Sidewinders, 1972; Boston powerpop band): New wave guitar?….no, more rural chicken-pluck. Black Crowes go country rock? Georgia Satellites? “I can see that you’re so thirsty darlin’ by the way you take your time…. You can guzzle down my whiskey and you can drink my sweet sweet wine.” And while her lips guzzle the bottle, his band’ll choogle for her. 4

1,000,000,000 AOR fans confused them with Tycoon.

Trillion “Make Time for Love“ (single and on Clear Approach, both 1980; “progressive hard rock band” [discogs] from Chicago): Cornfed middle-American AOR, like Head East — Souped-up late ’70s soft rock atop a mobile-enough-for-homecoming-dance hard rock beat, even cowbell, making way at one point for a surprise vocoder-robot part. Chorus wants to “make time for love, don’t let it slip away.” Hippies going corporate but trying to stay “free” — they use that word, setting themselves up against squares they pretend they’re not. 4.5

David Peel & the Lower East Side “Up Against the Wall“ (from Have a Marijuana, 1968, and included on And the Rest is History : The Elektra Recordings, 2000; Brooklyn-born provocateur whose “raw, acoustic ‘street rock’ with lyrics about marijuana and ‘bad cops’ appealed mostly to hippies and the disenfranchised” [Wikipedia]): Starts with that sports rally thing that goes “duh-duh-d’duh-d’duh chaaaarge” (or “chaaarge it” as Laverne & Shirley or was it Betty & Wilma had it) then “here come the judge” cheers except this definitely isn’t Pigmeat Markham or Shorty Long. Then random whistling and a klutzy Brooklyn-accented gang shout of “up against the wall, motherfuckers!” — not the MC5, but probably inspired by them. Freaks for sure. So I dunno….Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show? The Fugs? Cheech & Chong? Zappa? Oh wait, that Lower East Side guy, David Peel? Ends with applause. Totally dumb but also kinda nutty. 6.5

Maximum Joy “Do It Today“ (promo single and on Station M.X.J.Y., both 1982, and included on I Can’t Stand It Here On Quiet Nights: Singles 1981-82, 2017; co-ed Bristol, UK post-punk band featuring alumni of the Pop Group and Glaxo Babies): Deep and itchy funk bassline with sax worked into the rhythm and a British woman (or high -pitched man?) singing in the ’80s. Groove thickens as it goes, bass slows and gets lowdown, sax splats noisier á la the Contortions or at least Pigbag. Seems to be a 12-inch mix, which never really coalesces into a song per sé but it’s got so much energy that I don’t mind. 7

Martine St. Clair “Plus Pres Des Etoiles“ (single B-side, 1985, and on Ce Soir L’Amour Est Dans Tes Yeux, 1986 and later anthologies; Francophone pop singer from Montreal): Abba-esque sparkle pop, a foreign-language early ’80s contemporary of Sheena Easton with the sort of “Missing You” bassline that’s become popular in 21st Century Nashville country and slight hints of proggish synthesizer in a verse or two. Eventually the singer revs up her voice into Laura Branigan or Taylor Dayne belting, but those synths are still the least dull part. 4

Kevin Coyne “Sunday Morning Sunrise“ (from Matching Head and Feet, 1975, and included on Voice of the Outsider / The Best Of, 2013; eccentric Derbyshire, UK, blues-rock singer-songwriter): Sad deep soul blues about being in a Sunday morning mood when the kids are still asleep so maybe he and his wife can even have sex instead of going to church; we’re clearly talking long-term monogamy here (“all these years spent together, there’s nobody else”) so nothing to lose! He’s got a really rich voice, and after a while a flute comes in and he shuts up and the blues guitar takes a journey with flute by its side. 7.5

Post-punk cheerleaders Yeah Yeah Noh’s pyramid scheme.

Yeah Yeah Noh “Bias Binding“ (on The Cottage Industry EP, 1984, When I am a Big Girl, 1985, and Leicester Square: The Best Of Yeah Yeah Noh, 2001; Leicester, UK “‘unpop’ group” from “the DIY post-punk era” [Wikipedia]): British blokes gabbing not singing about whistling happy tunes and putting “the west back into country and western,” with a couple toes in twang as they misunderstand it. First guess was Ian Dury, but then I figured more likely somebody more obscure, if quite possibly still recording for Stiff Records. I started leaning more toward the Mekons, who I was sure it isn’t, or the Nightingales, who it might be. Stuff about “American Viet nam” and “no free 12-inch, scratch and sniff” and “it’s the cultural revolution, gonna plead insanity on all charges, but I’m guilty of noise pollution.” Intriguing words, whatever they mean — and friendly, somehow. 7.5

Unknownmix “The Beast“ (from Loops, 1985 and later anthologies; co-ed Zürich avant-garde/ post-punk band): Chugging Eurodisco rock with outer space sounds and a dense guitar riff comparable to Heart’s “Barracuda” and Transylvanian Lene Lovich/Nina Hagen/ Morticia Adams vocals; actually approaches the speed-crazed push and pull of Lovich’s “Lucky Number.” The singer, clearly no shrinking violet, might even hail from Central Europe for real. Gothic new wave with more sense of humor than Siouxsie and the Banshees, nuclear bomb effects out of Hearthen-era Pere Ubu, and fleeting off-kilter echoes of Falco’s “Der Kommissar” — all over hard electronic dance beats. 8

Charles Wright and the Watts 103rd Street Band “Your Love (Means Everything To Me)“ (single B-side and on You’re So Beautiful, both 1971, later included on best-of sets; L.A. funk band most famous for 1970’s #12 hit “Express Yourself”): Throaty, fairly stodgy but fairly stomping, blues rock. Singer provides a constipated push when he thanks you for taking him in on a rainy day when he was down and out; things get better when he starts wailing advice Mama gave him about how someday the right girl will surely come along. Guitar likewise chugs harder later than you expect it to earlier. 6.5

Ritual, “Mind Disease” (single, 1982, available on several later goth comps; “goth (positive) punk band…from Harrow in North West London” [discogs]): Clanging ZZ Top riff transforms into staccato drone that might be a heavier version of Magazine as singer growls, yelps, shrieks, repeats words, stretches syllables: “This is, this is, this is, thi-ih-ihs ihhhzz…” Gothic Britpunks wearing hostility like a haircut, not quite generic but not quite distinctive either. Theatre of Hate? 6

The American Dream “My Babe” (from The American Dream, 1970; “psychedelic rock band, based in Philadelphia” [discogs]): Good-timey down home early ’70s Southern(-ish) rock with a passing resemblance to Creedence’s version of “Suzie Q.” Polite hooting and hollering and gratuitous but good-natured “wooo!!”s and wholesome objectification of hippie chicks. The singer digs how some girl “smiles once in a while,” which is ambiguous — does that imply that on most other occasions he doesn’t like how she smiles, or is he suggesting that most of the time she frowns but once in a while she doesn’t? 4.5

Sugarloaf “Tongue in Cheek” (single and on Spaceship Earth, 1971, included on Best of Sugarloaf, 1973; “psychedelic/progressive rock band from Denver” [discogs]): Riff at the beginning reminds me a little of “Buick MacKane” by T. Rex, but this sounds earlier, even mid ’60s…no, scratch that, probably post-Yardbirds at least. Late ’60s? And wait, when he sees her walking down the street, his what gets a funny feeling? So even more objectified than the previous song. He also gets dizzy like he just stood up too fast. (Dude needs to be more careful, take his time; if all the blood rushes from his head, he might pass out.) The organ, Hammond or Vox or whatever, comes in and we’re in Doors/Iron Butterfly territory for….a really long time. Dang it, seemed like a good idea at first. Organ player’s a bit of a showoff. Then he switches to piano! I dunno, maybe this is Traffic? Some chicken scratch funk next, some of it “tasty,” but certainly not worth the time and energy they expend on it. Finally (duh), there’s a grand finale. 5.5

Sonny Fisher in the ’70s, still sneaky after all those years.

Sonny Fisher “Sneaky Pete“ (10-inch 78 and 7-inch 45 single, 1955, included on periodic 1979-and-later collections called Texas Rockabilly and sundry genre anthologies; rockabilly singer/songwriter/ guitarist born in Chandler, Texas): Jumping primitive cigar-box-guitar rockabilly commercial for an alcoholic concoction that lays waste to hound dogs, white rats, red roosters, and “big fat women” alike. 7

Curved Air “It Happened Today“ (from Airconditioning, 1970, and included on The Best of Curved Air, 1976; London band mixing “progressive rock, folk rock and fusion with classical elements” [Wikipedia’): Grace Slick-lineage woman’s voice and legitimately dark mood propelled by piano rock that starts out psychedelic and grows incrementally more prog, like the ’60s turning ’70s. She’s talking about yesterday and tomorrow like she’s some kind of fortune teller, and claims we already forgot why we came to see her. I’m picking Curved Air right off the bat because almost no other proggish rock bands I can think of have female singers. Eventually the mode switches to ballet class, in perhaps an allusion that people who actually know about classical music would get but I don’t. Pretentious but also lovely. 7

Lyres “I Really Want You Right Now“ (single B-side, 1983, then on On Fyre, 1984 and sundry later archival collections including AHS 1005, 1998; Boston garage rock band): Another cheesy organ; either late ’60s garage punk or very early psychedelic/acid rock/proto-metal from a year or two later — Actually, Music Machine might be the most precise reference point, so I’ll estimate 1966. “I want mah baby, I miss mah baby, yeah she gahhn away” — hey maybe Joey Ramone was listening in. The singer wants her right now, needs her right now, calls her and she’s not at home, says he feels so dead; you don’t doubt he’s stressed and depressed and obsessed with the young lady. He repeats lines so single-mindedly that the vocals almost work as a primal drone. So it’s good, but still somehow stuck in its box. 6.5

Luis Russell and his Orchestra “Freakish Blues“ (10-inch 78-rpm single, 1931, compiled on 1931-1934, 1991, The Luis Russell Story 1929 – 1934, 2005, and other archival reissues; big band led by “pioneering Panamanian jazz pianist, orchestra leader, composer, and arranger” [Wikipedia]): Light jazz with clarinet counterpoint and an even more understated brass section; different horns stand in a well-mannered line and take their turns in the conversation. There’s a merger of European and African American influences, no doubt, and perhaps somebody more versed in the era could explain whatever greatness I might be deaf to. Maybe there’s a movie scene out there that puts it to perfect use. But as far as I can tell it doesn’t swing. 6

Not moderne idiots.

Der Moderne Man “Dreizehn“ (from 80 Tage Auf See, 1980; Neue Deutsche Welle band from Hannover, Germany): A German with a cold in his nose, declaiming, even haranguing, unto gutturalness. Music switches from stop-and-start semi-funk to semi-jangle as the volume increases. Then semi-reggae, then synthesized space-invader sounds. Very new wave, but doesn’t exactly achieve momentum. Also, pretty sure he counts in German: “dreizehn, vierzehn, fünfzehn…” 6.5

Borghesia “133” (from No Hope No Fear, 1987; “Slovenian electronic and rock music group, created in Ljubljana [at the time in Yugoslavia]… chief instigators in the Electronic Body Music genre” [discogs]): Electrocardiogram signals under a woman’s voice recorded off a shortwave transmission, then cash register clacking under a drill-press piston if there is such a thing, then an actual melody, conceivably from an actual electronic instrument. Then it switches gears again (at which point I’m thinking it’s Der Plan), into more radio interceptions, played backwards. Might be useful to read or write to. 6

The Stylle Band “If You Love Me” (single, 1983, compiled on Numero Group’s 2013 overview Purple Snow: Forecasting The Minneapolis Sound; Minnesota funk sextet): Pretty electronics into a pumping beat, a fat (oops, phat) bassline indicating a genuine funk combo. Smooth singing suggests they might be British, from the Linx/Junior years — what people call “boogie” nowadays, pretty much how Mayer Hawthorne wants to sound. Though in both pitch and passion terms, the lead voice feels deeper than the boogie norm. 6.5

The metal wizards of Oz were known for their foreheads.

Oz “Megalomaniac“ (from Fire in the Brain, 1983; Finnish heavy metal band who moved to Sweden in 1983): Psychedelic, quasi-Hendrix feedback veering off into Eddie Van Halen territory, which in turn yields to a fast early ’80s proto-thrash gallop; can’t be much later ’cause you can still smell blooze on the singer’s breath. Seems relieved that now he can punch down at whoever’s finally under his thumb. Believe it or, these guys could afford to be a little more pretentious. 5.5

The Carpettes “Radio Wunderbar“ (from The Carpettes EP, 1977, and collected on various reissue sets by the band; powerpop punks from Houghton-le-Spring in Northeast England): Low-fidelity powerchord new wave doing the popular new wave thing of trying to shame radio into playing your record by saying how bad radio is, of wanting so badly to bite the hand that feeds thee: “All manufactured to fit your ears” in this case. The trusty old criticism-as-tribute tactic — See also Elvis Costello, Joe Jackson, Sports, Ramones, though this sounds more like sub-Buzzcocks, Adverts, 999. Passable hooks; too bad they’re taped on a hand-held recorder. The song actually seems better than the performance. Maybe second takes weren’t punk enough. Also for some reason they keep saying “Waddaya know.” 6.5

Eliminated for Reasons of Space, 25 April 2024