tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23678598464958545412024-03-17T03:18:56.733-04:00Fragments of a Cale Seasona heap of broken imagesInverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.comBlogger160125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-16422347088550698362013-11-23T08:31:00.000-05:002013-11-23T08:31:12.972-05:00Fairweather FriendI've always been disappointed in "Fairweather Friend". Cale's closing tracks tend to be memorable; this isn't. Cale writes well and often of the disappointments of friendship; this song's title comes from a throwaway lyric. And, of course, it isn't even an original song - it's a Garland Jeffreys cover. (I'm not sure Jeffreys ever recorded a version, though.) But this is my problem, not the song's. It didn't ask for my expectations.<br />
<br />
In fact, it's a perfectly fine track that fits well with the album. Its vaguely travel- and adventuring-themed images aren't far from the other songs'. The jaunty rhythm and unserious delivery brings the listener back into the mood of the early tracks after the one-two punch of resigned sorrow in "Amsterdam" and serious creepiness in "Ghost Story". And, seeing as Garland Jeffreys played and sang on <i>Vintage Violence</i>, it was rather classy of Mr. Cale to cover him. (And, hey, the saloon piano, especially the rolls around the two minute mark, is just a joy.)<br />
<br />
Jeffreys is still recording and performing today, but he doesn't seem to do this number. I'm fairly sure Cale has never played it live. I suspect the song is best left an artifact of this particular studio.<br />
<br />
So: listen to this album when you want light, expansive orchestral pop adventure fun. Enjoy this song for what it is. I do. But someday I hope I find a song like the one I expected the first time I played this record.Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-21386962692153335802013-10-28T09:00:00.003-04:002013-10-28T09:00:35.073-04:00The Ostrich / Sneaky Pete"The world has lost a fine songwriter and poet… I've lost my 'school-yard buddy'." - John Cale<br />
<br />
I know this isn't the most dignified tribute to a real titan, but might as well go out with a wink and a smile. Funny how Lou's voice sounded just the same just last year.<br />
<br />
<center><iframe width="480" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/_vRsnzbTvnY?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center><br />
The origin story of the Velvet Underground, the sordid tale of John Cale's descent from avant garde academic music to hedonist rock'n'roll, doesn't really begin with this silly 7" record, but it's good enough to start there. JC (and his fellow La Monte Young disciple Tony Conrad) answered a classified ad or something. Lou was branching out from being a songwriter for Pickwick to a performer as well. After the record, Reed's former college classmate Sterling Morrison was recruited, and Cale/Young collaborator Angus MacLise joined on drums. Conrad showed the guys a pulp sexploitation book called "The Velvet Underground," and that was that.<br />
<br />
(Please forgive and correct any factual errors; working from memory. I'll hit the books tonight.)<br />
<br />
Good night, Lou.Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-23088502737494632732013-10-27T10:09:00.002-04:002013-10-27T10:09:50.679-04:00Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good NightI've made clear that I find <i>Words for the Dying</i> an affront. The instrumental and choral arrangements by Cale and Eno don't seem intrinsically bad, but between the completely affectless boy's choir and the sloppy Russian orchestra, the execution never gets better than tolerable. This feeling is amplified every time I listen to the unimpeachable stripped-down and focused solo piano arrangements featured on <i>Fragments of a Rainy Season</i>.<br />
<br />
The chromatic harmonies and dissonant notes of the <i>Words...</i> arrangement of Dylan Thomas's most famous poem, however, add a layer of discontent to the oddly buoyant vocal and instrumental melodies that Cale uses for this poem that seems to extol senile dementia. For a while, I felt uneasy about it: the orchestral version that I disliked seemed to communicate the poem's tone more accurately than the solo version I loved.<br />
<br />
A couple years ago, though, something extremely improbable happened: I found <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42JTU4vuyEg&lc=INSoPLGFjdrjm8vf6v7kVN-OfXaIl4BkohRKE7XV6Qs" target="_blank">a useful YouTube comment</a>. The author pointed out that the poem, after all, is a villanelle, a form originating in light pastoral subject matter. The poem subverts the form by taking this innocent form and twisting it to honor the incompleteness of even the greatest lives. The solo Cale arrangement does the same by taking more of the melodies into major keys and letting the dissonance out only in the connective tissue and certain vocal phrases.<br />
<br />
(Not to give Dylan Thomas too much credit. "Do Not Go Gentle..." certainly helped repopularize the form, but it was on its way back already. Its resurgence in the 20th century led to many disturbingly effective poems, e.g. Sylvia Plath's "<a href="http://hellopoetry.com/poem/mad-girls-love-song/" target="_blank">Mad Girl's Love Song</a>".)<br />
<br />
Here's the author himself reading the poem. It's striking how similar his meter is to Cale's - do you think that's a coincidence?<br />
<br />
<center>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="215" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/g2cgcx-GJTQ" width="300"></iframe></center>
Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-91481871255020531162013-10-06T09:50:00.001-04:002013-10-06T09:56:08.405-04:00She Never Took No For an AnswerWhen you think of the Sex Pistols' unlucky and incapable replacement bassist Sid Vicious and his unluckier girlfriend Nancy Spungen, you think of John Cale, right? Well, I don't, but the filmmakers of 1986 biopic <i>Sid & Nancy</i> (aka <i>Love Kills</i>) did, and I'm glad.<br />
<br />
I'm honestly not sure what I think of the movie, but the soundtrack is one of my favorites, featuring really good songs by Joe Strummer, The Pogues, Steve Jones, and Circle Jerks; striking instrumentals by the Pogues and <a href="http://www.prayforrain.com/">Pray for Rain</a>; two tremendous in-character performances by Gary Oldman as Sid ("My Way" is better than Sid's); and, of course, this little ditty by our man John.<br />
<center><iframe width="300" height="200" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/hwklWwaIhBo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center><br />
<span id="fullpost">The song sounds like it was recorded around <i>Artificial Intelligence</i>: very 80s digital recording and synths. I'm not sure if any acoustic instruments are involved, actually. The vocal melody sounds improvised and the delivery matches, like Cale is singing to himself while walking in the dark woods. The tentative whistling gives the same impression. It's actually one of his more vulnerable moments. But maybe he was just distracted.<br />
<br />
Like many others from the <i>Caribbean Sunset</i>/<i>Artificial Intelligence</i> years, "She Never Took No for An Answer" was a collaboration with roving lyricist <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/08/sleeper.html">Larry "Ratso" Sloman</a>. The lyrics are a collection of memorable phrases ("carnivorous lovers", "parking lot vipers", "we'll sleep on the train that's leaving today"), but who knows what the song means. I think it's a meditation on failed escapism. <br />
<br />
I'm not sure if the song was a donated outtake or written specifically for the movie, but it does use a phrase from the movie (spoken by Malcolm McLaren) about Sid: a "fabulous disaster". And final verse lyric "we all die like heroes when we're living like fools" seems appropriate to Sid & Nancy, at least for certain bathos-soaked values of "hero."</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-72428538098673005162013-09-29T14:08:00.002-04:002013-09-29T17:34:06.101-04:00Hungry for Love<img style="border:0;float:right;width:260px;height:260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-AKoEKtdDMkTFy59Up6VHwAfOE20XUnNmIdmk6378zloFMMN1L4dIBimV-wqBtrLwRqV2sjBLh56Vyq6EaL4vPzSbmDJAdC8hyphenhyphenGg21kCZH-75yzDgVWgYxUiYzQ_6zN1jZgl9SpgyBk/s320/caribbean-sunset.jpg" /><i>Caribbean Sunset</i> is another contender for "strangest album". Despite the Jimmy Buffettesque name and hilariously 80s cover (dig that coffee-package album logo, that colorful sweatshirt, and the blue skies reflected in his shades!), the 1984 album is aggressive, angry, and rather bonkers, much like its predecessor <i>Honi Soit</i>. (How <i>Music for a New Society</i> was born between the two is beyond me.) As on HS, the songs are angry and threatening even when (I think) they're trying to be upbeat.<br />
<br />
<i>Caribbean Sunset</i> also fits neatly into the possibly nonexistent category of music known as "Spy Rock", described very memorably (though I think much too loosely) at John Hodgman's and Jonathan Coulton's Little Grey Book Lecture Series by a gentleman named David Guion. (<a href="http://www.littlegraybooks.com/hear.html" target="_blank">Listen to podcast number 2 here.</a> I promise it's worth the time.) Despite earlier ventures into the pseudo-genre ("Sudden Death", "Leaving It Up to You", "Fear", maybe even "Endless Plain of Fortune" or "Ghost Story"), Cale's work really swung that way in the Reagan years. From his live shows in '78 all the way through <i>Artificial Intelligence</i>, you can practically smell <i>Foreign Affairs</i> on his breath.<br />
<br />
I haven't decided yet whether or not this anger and menace is a liability. Album opener "Hungry for Love" is a rather slight thing, an exhortation to, um, love more...? Specifically, to love Mr. Cale more. He promises to reciprocate. But the arrangement and especially the vocal delivery make me wonder; listening to his performance feels like being browbeaten, not seduced or consoled.<br />
<span id="fullpost"><br />
Especially on the bridges. "You can walk on water 'cause you're feeling strong. You can walk, you can walk on water. That's what women know!" is one. "You can see the writing, it's on the wall. You can see the writing, it's ten foot tall!" is the other. I don't hear anything but anger and resentment in the vocals. "Writing on the wall" is, from its biblical origins to the present day, not really a good sign.<br />
<br />
The band sounds good, though very straitlaced slightly-punky conventional rock. The composition is rather catchy, with a mirrored piano figure as the main hook. It doesn't suffer horribly from digital recording. It's maybe a bit compressed, but maybe that's an artifact of the vinyl rip I have. The dissonant piano and the one-note guitar solo near the end add even more tension and fear to this romantic little ditty, so it's not just the vocal. There's an unusual accent in the backing vocals on the coda... that couldn't be Nico, could it?<br />
<br />
There's just an irresolvable tension between what the song claims to be and what the band actually recorded. But, you know, it actually makes for more interesting listening.<br />
<br />
Here's a well-made cover of the song that delivers more accurately on the emotions promised by the song's lyrics and melody. Do you think it's better?<br />
<br />
<iframe width="540" height="415" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/6p9kZwA1MOU?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe> </span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-57910300895253636402013-09-28T15:32:00.001-04:002013-09-29T10:56:16.235-04:00MemphisAnd now for something completely different.<br />
<br />
Mr. Cale has always had an eclectic taste in covers (Axton/Durden/Presley's "Heartbreak Hotel", Jonathan Richman's "Pablo Picasso", Brian Wilson's "God Only Knows", Ralph Vaughn Williams's "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence", and so on), so it shouldn't be too surprising that he covered Chuck Berry's legendarily expectation-upsetting "Memphis, Tennessee".<br />
<br />
It's not one of his most illuminating covers - despite a lot of rearrangement, the overall effect is pretty close to the original. The vocal is bullish, sanding off most of the emotional details, and is probably the weakest link in the song. There's a little bit of everything in the mix and the instrumental parts are continually changing through the song, but I'm not sure that makes it better listening. The hornet-swarm guitar and viola solos, recalling <i>Fear</i>'s "Barracuda", are striking and the best reasons for listening. Overall not essential, but worth a listen now and again.<br />
<br />
What <b>is</b> surprising about the song is its context. It may sound like an Island Years outtake, but it occupies the second a-side slot in 1977's ultra-bizarre <i>Animal Justice</i> EP, after punkish Croydon Chicken Incident souvenir "Chickenshit". The b-side is "Hedda Gabler". The Cale discography is full of odd records, but I'm pretty sure this one's the strangest.<br />
<br />
Speaking of strange: here, watch a Czech Cale cover band (!!!) cover JC's arrangement. Amazing job, but somebody get this poor man a lyric sheet.<br />
<center><iframe width="540" height="300" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/V5r4FPJm5TM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-73206672765654489752013-09-20T22:07:00.001-04:002013-09-20T22:07:12.702-04:00If You Were Still Around<b>Another</b> <i>Music for a New Society</i> cut, you say? Yes, yes. Bear with me. I've been thinking about it a lot for reasons that will soon become obvious.<br />
<br />
Probably the simplest, sparest track on the album, "If You Were Still Around" packs one of the strongest punches even so. There's hardly any music to speak of: The drum machine at the edges of perception, barely more than a metronome. The organ, nothing but a few chords with some very sparing accents, offering a scale climb where the middle eight should be that serves as the song's only ornamentation. No harpsichord, ghostly electric guitar, electric piano, viola, electronics.<br />
<br />
And then there's the vocal. Not the most sober of the album - that's "Close Watch". Not the most carefully expressed - that's "Taking Your Life in Your Hands". But perhaps the one that most carefully keeps to the edge between performance and exorcism, mimicking the underlying tension of the whole album. And the control on display here amplifies instead of soothing the tension.<br />
<br />
<center><iframe width="300" height="200" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/xokKGDe1C48?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center><br />
The lyrics, a contribution from Sam Shepard, seem unusually clear. Addressed to a friend lost to self-destruction, marinating in powerlessness and frustration, they bargain with the lost. The images of cradling and of resuscitation of the first verse, slipping into recollection of the self-harm: "You could ride, like a panther, whatever got into your veins. What kind of green blood swum you to your doom." The most arresting moment, confronting lost opportunities to help: "If you were still around, I'd tear into your fear, leave it hanging off you in long streamers, shreds of dread." And finally giving way to voodooistic avenues for resurrection: "If you were still around, I'd turn you facing the wind, bend your spine on my knee, chew the back of your head till you opened your mouth to this life."<br />
<br />
So it may not be very uplifting, but on THIS album it's one of the more heartening and life-affirming tracks.Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-42192975986073838092013-09-16T01:25:00.001-04:002013-09-20T22:07:44.191-04:00Damn LifeEverybody knows the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C3%BCbler-Ross_model" target="_blank">Kübler-Ross model of grief</a>. First the grieving person faces denial, then anger, then bargaining, then depression, then, finally, acceptance of their situation. Like many things that everybody knows, it's bullshit. Kübler-Ross herself originated the hypothesis dealing with terminally ill patients facing their own deaths, though she later expanded it to encompass all grief. She did not believe that her stages were the only emotions people experienced, only that they were common; she did not believe they happened in any predictable order; and she did not think that one simply moved through them. In the real version of her model, they are states that may be visited repeatedly while processing the life-altering event. Beyond the popular misconceptions about what the model <i>is</i>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C3%BCbler-Ross_model#Criticism" target="_blank">there is no compelling evidence</a> in scientific studies that the stages even exist, and the idea that they do may be harmful in pressuring people to fit their emotions to them.<br />
<br />
My own experience of grief is like a fire, flickering and flaring up and dying down, with hot spots moving and the flames dancing unpredictably. You can't point to one place in my emotional landscape and say what it is; the map is forever changing. One hour I am filled with joy for having experienced what came before; the next, with anger and looking for somebody to blame; emptiness and blankness; guilt and self-loathing; then resignation; paralyzing sorrow; an urge to do something useful to honor the lost or to avenge the loss on the guilty; elation at release and freedom; hopelessness, and hope renewed; then, hope dead, peace and tranquility restored. (When this process has struck me during the working week, I'll tell you, the mental gymnastics involved while keeping external placidity and professionalism are nothing short of Olympian.) And then I sleep, and I wake, and it all starts again.<br />
<br />
And that's how this song goes.<br />
<center><iframe width="300" height="200" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/lV_8nQqmGmE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center><br />
<span id="fullpost">Arguably the emotional climax of <i>Music for a New Society</i>, occupying the penultimate spot in the tracklist, "Damn Life" starts out with warm-up-y piano and synth burbles before absurdly breaking into Beethoven's Ode to Joy. It begins in disconnected jagged fragments of lyrics over that damned joyous beer-hall melody, the wistful and hard-panned guitar and synth, and the eerily funereal lagging kick-drum-driven beat. "Damn life. Damn life. What's it worth. Getting on without... This city... It's just self-pity. Damn life. You're just not worth it. You're just not worth it. ... Oh no, respect, respect, what's respect? Cause and effect. Self-respect." It might be funny if there were any sign of humor in his voice. There is not. Just dejection, depression, despair.<br />
<br />
Then the tempo quadruples. Piano chords. Guitar scales. Tambourine. Constant drum fills. Fucking ? and the Mysterians "96 Tears" style bubbly organ. He's talking about somebody else now? "She was the one that got left behind, she was the one got lost." He sounds almost happy. "Never took from anybody, self-sufficient at any cost." Then... non-sequitur? "No, nothing can break this heart of mine!" Celebratory and defiant vocals. God, the drum fills. It's like somebody different in the kit. "It stands invincible all the time. Can't always get what ya left behind. Seek and you shall find, yes seek and you shall find. Oh, the daaaa" and here everything slows and Ludwig returns, "aaaaaaaamnlife!"<br />
<br />
And back to the slow chorale, sans vocals, the drummer lagging even further behind the beat. And now the Mysterians return, then leave again.<br />
<br />
And again we're left with the Ode and the mysterious lady. "So she's still wandering her heart away; doesn't even know if it's night or day." And here... his voice... is that all... <i>contempt</i>? "And even if someone helped her up, she'd stand little hope of recognizing those friends she had." Yes, definitely contempt. "And in many, many ways, those friends were GLAD." Holy shit what just happened. There may even be an element of triumph in that final scream.<br />
<br />
I have listened to this song so many times now, and every time I still wince at the end. My heart cannot help but go along for the ride. Sometimes I sympathize with the depressed narrator, sometimes with the defiant, sometimes with the contemptuous. Who is "she"? Nico? His stalker? Who knows. It doesn't really matter.<br />
<br />
Feeling this song might make me a worse person. But it represents the fire of loss better than almost anything else I can think of. There are better-known songs on Music for a New Society, but there's nothing more powerful. Make this your own at your own peril, but it bears the truth among the flames.</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-83310971036637511502013-09-13T20:02:00.001-04:002013-09-13T20:04:04.917-04:00Guts (the compilation)<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqHLQskrNItQFNwYDTuPbghT8f3a2idgyLQjGGq__i3wirvq6N1ZqPTO1Evw2QM6gqN6fjh1PLMG_85ObBnPAVR9Czz6J7schPQ_MEgwX3YLgJasJuZce0biALboLr0dRauddc1iJAbWA/s320/Guts.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" /> Happy Friday the 13th! No, Jason Voorhees fans, my man John isn't dressing up like your guy. Cale may have been the first to popularize the hockey mask as a symbol of derangement and murderous intent. He took up the mask sometime around 1975 for his increasingly insane live concerts. I have no evidence that the filmmakers swiped it, but they had five years and this weirdo compilation's album jacket artwork to help them do it.<br />
<br />
And <i>Guts</i> <b>is</b> a weirdo compilation. Cale was, apparently, not a favorite of his Island Records bosses, who, as we just established, released Helen of Troy unfinished, without his consent, and deleted the best track after the first pressing. According to Robert Christgau, they didn't release Helen of Troy in the US. I've also heard that the Island albums were not very heavily promoted and were deleted quickly, though I'm failing at finding sources at the moment. Maybe Island thought the albums were too weird, veering from the pastoral and sentimental to the murderous to the parodic and absurd as they all did.<br />
<br />
But <i>then</i> they decide to take a selection of Cale's most insane tracks from the three albums (along with an outtake*) as a compilation? Go figure. I've always been biased against the album because of its checkered history and the fact that it appears to have been an attempt to cash in on schlock rock in its glory days. And yet, listening to the vinyl quite a few times in the past few weeks, I have to say it works. The mood swings are what make the real Island records such interesting listening, but Fear is the only stone-cold classic in the bunch. Honing it down to a bunch of songs that occupy different places in the continuum from crazily debauched to crazily dangerous makes for a smoother, easier-to-grok listen.<br />
<br />
You have to be in the mood for crazy, but, man, look at the cover. Hell, it's <a href="http://www.robertchristgau.com/get_artist.php?id=675&name=John+Cale">Christgau's favorite Cale record</a>, so it worked for somebody.<br />
<br />
* yes I realize I covered this ground pretty well in <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/09/mary-lou.html">the writeup for "Mary Lou"</a>, but hell, it's Friday the 13th and this is my blog dammit.Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-4692424979217255662013-09-11T23:03:00.001-04:002013-09-11T23:24:03.059-04:00Mercenaries (Ready for War)<blockquote>"Mercenaries and auxiliaries are useless and dangerous; and if one holds his state based on these arms, he will stand neither firm nor safe; for they are disunited, ambitious and without discipline, unfaithful, valiant before friends, cowardly before enemies; they have neither the fear of God nor fidelity to men, and destruction is deferred only so long as the attack is; for in peace one is robbed by them, and in war by the enemy. The fact is, they have no other attraction or reason for keeping the field than a trifle of a stipend, which is not sufficient to make them willing to die for you."<br />
<span style="float: right;">- <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/1232/1232-h/1232-h.htm#link2HCH0012" target="_blank">Niccolò Machiavelli, 'The Prince' Chapter XII</a></span></blockquote><br />
Back in January 1980, with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Afghanistan#Marxist_revolution_and_Soviet_war" target="_blank">a nightmare awakening in Afghanistan</a>, Thatcher getting comfortable at Downing Street, Reagan waiting to be inaugurated, and decades of mercenary-assisted bloodshed in Africa, John Cale released a topical single that he'd been playing live for a year or so. A rocking little ditty with prescient and sinister artwork, "Mercenaries (Ready for War)" was a studio recording of the lead-off track of the previous month's live LP of new material, <i>Sabotage/Live</i>.<br />
<br />
The circumstances being what they were, then, you may be surprised to know that the song's not about war. It's not about killing and terror and bloodshed and death. It's about money. Sort of the dog-o-war version of Barrett Strong's "Money (That's What I Want)", when you get down to it. Just another soldier boy, looking for work, cleaning his rifle, and above all making sure he gets paid. Sure, the song ends with a guitar-based "charge!" bugle call and a run on Moscow, but that's just the new frontier of the bank account.<br />
<br />
<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="415" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/T-p8XZw_StQ" width="540"></iframe></center><br />
<span id="fullpost">If the single were the only recording of this song, it would be a highlight of the catalog. The vocal is one of Cale's most intimidating studio attempts; the sound of the band is raw and live like few of his other studio cuts. The guitar tones are exceptional. (The bass could be heavier, but let's not nitpick.) Even the fadeout doesn't sound cheap - Cale goes out screaming. (<a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/06/rosegarden-funeral-of-sores.html">The b-side is worth a listen too.</a>) Too bad the masters of the single are presumed lost forever.<br />
<br />
... but fortunately the definitive version of the song had already been recorded. The live version that opens <i>Sabotage</i> starts with Cale declaiming a much pithier paraphrase of the Machiavelli quotation above over the disjointed solo bassline. Then the guitar storm starts, and every compliment I just paid to the studio version applies tenfold. Cale delivers every word right. In the live/LP environment, the song is allowed to unfold in a more frighteningly relaxed way, and the tension by the ending raid sequence is intolerable.<br />
<br />
"Mercenaries" formed a set staple through the geopolitical insanity of the early 80s (e.g. the decent version on <i>Live at Rockpalast</i>), then was left behind with most of the more martial stuff. It was resurrected in odd fashion at a memorable concert at the Amsterdam Paradiso in 2004. Redone as a electronic jazz poetry-slam number with synth backing vocals, with "Taps" replacing the "Charge!" call, the song was one of the more controversial moments of a controversial concert, but it works for me.<br />
<br />
<iframe width="540" height="415" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/oOESaw_Nzr4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
Perhaps at that time of madness and paranoia, anything that engaged seriously with the horrifying mistakes my country had made and the amount of money flowing to the Halliburtons and Blackwaters of the world was bound to connect. With a possible invasion of Iran looming, hearing the inspired "Let's go to Tehran / find the back door to the Majlis, kick it down and walk on in..." hit buttons I wanted/didn't want pressed. (This version was released on Circus Live, but with an unnecessary and detrimental layer of "drone" added for reasons I don't understand. To drown out the audience chatter, I imagine.)<br />
<br />
The song may not be all that deep, but it still offers us something to reflect on. We still live in the world of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, of the realpolitik American use of coup and assassination and cooperative dictatorship to fight its ideological opponents, of the British partition of India and Pakistan and Bangladesh, of the Mongol destruction of the irrigation canals of Iraq. (And <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/05/in-library-of-force.html">we kill in it.</a>) We even live with some of the mercenary murderers of 20th century - the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mike_Hoare" target="_blank">greatest son-of-a-bitch of them all</a> is still alive! The past is with us always, even when we don't see it; each decision we make could, invisibly, one day prove fatal. Sleep tight.<br />
</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-78066031696878642822013-09-01T21:09:00.003-04:002013-09-13T20:05:34.501-04:00Leaving It Up To YouSo finally we're here, and I'm about to grab the third rail of Cale commentary. There's no way to successfully elucidate this song. It's been nice knowing you.<br />
<br />
Almost impenetrable, murderous, regretful, cancerous, marinating in vengeance and resentment and loss, "Leaving It up to You" seems to be many people's favorite Cale song. It touches on assassination, Manson, the press, war in the desert, crumbling buildings, wastelands, and black magic. It makes very little rational sense. Our man even runs out of words in the last verse, repeating himself somewhat inanely, all bluster and threats of sorcery because he's got nothing else left.<br />
<br />
So why do I get the sense that the song, like Close Watch or Ship of Fools, started as a reference to the pop music of the previous generation? The <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yv2v5L0USPU" target="_blank">1957 Don & Dewey doo-wop number</a> "I'm Leaving It Up To You" didn't make much of a splash. Dale and Grace popularized it as a duet. Maybe that one caught Mr. Cale's fancy? Not only was it was the number 1 easy listening single the day JFK was shot, the performers were in Dallas attending Kennedy's motorcade that day, seeing him just before the fatal moment. I think that scene would be up Cale's alley.<br />
<br />
But more likely: the song became a hit again, coincidentally right before the album this song appeared on, <i>Helen of Troy</i>, was recorded. At the accursed golden throats of Donny & Marie Osmond, no less. God, wouldn't it be great if exposure to those two drove JC to thoughts of murder?<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="415" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/OLrphMDcFeE" width="540"></iframe><br />
<br />
But if there's any connection, it doesn't go any deeper than the chorus at best. Actual song commentary after the jump...<br />
<span id="fullpost"><br />
There's no way to avoid the obvious: the studio version of this song is almost unbeatable. The heroin-rock loping bassline, the chugging twitching drums, the eerie edge-of-the-mix organ, the tersely tremendous Spedding guitar stabbing, the unearthly Eno synth over the last verse.<br />
<br />
And the vocal! It is surely one of Cale's greatest performances in the studio. Flat affect and boredom in the first verse, an edge coming on in the first chorus. The stakes raising in the second verse with the best lyrics - "all the buildings are breaking down like the whispering in your heart and it's sordid how life goes on when I could take you apart" - with threats and accusations building as his voice rises to a scream. The final verse features a rare instance of shamanism - Cale relaying images of the distant horizon, bobbling syllables, convulsing with the words as that synth bubbles malevolently. (This verse would prove hard to put across live without the backing.) And the resignation turning over to desperation in the end. "For God's sake, TAKE IT!" he cries, whispers, sobs. Sure, it sounds like there's a clumsy tape edit between takes at "I know we could all feel safe like Sharon Tate", but that's small potatoes.<br />
<br />
The song was inexcusably pulled from the album - <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/09/coral-moon.html">read the whole story in my writeup of "Coral Moon"</a>, the sweet nothing that replaced it - allegedly because of the Sharon Tate reference. I suspect Island actually pulled it because it scared the shit out of them. It did find wide and permanent release two years on the then-essential compilation <i>Guts</i>.<br />
<br />
Live band performances on record are mostly wanting. <i>Comes Alive</i> features a mix of enthusiasm and diffidence on everybody's part, the almost excellent performance (with a great pleading-for-his-life coda) on the recently issued Rockpalast set is weighed down by ill-advised gang vocals.<br />
<br />
But then there's the solo acoustic version, and it might even unseat the studio version. The chorus now features suspended chords that rise eerily, providing a weird pool of calm between each wrenching verse. Even his threats to get media coverage now seem less terrible. Somehow this makes the vocal even more powerful. Both released acoustic versions (on <i>Live at Rockpalast</i> and on <i>Fragments of a Rainy Season</i>) have a lot to offer, and you really ought to obtain both by any means necessary.<br />
<br />
It's not just the Welsh throat and tongue that gives the acoustic arrangement its power; it's one of my favorite songs to play live, and impresses even the people who are horrified by it. The third verse is really difficult to put across, though - what tanks? why are they crawling across the desert? why are the tanks breaking up your spell? what spell? why are you casting spells anyway? and what are you looking on on the ceiling at the back of the room? Maybe I just don't play the shaman very well. Mr. Cale doesn't always do it so well either, though.<br />
<br />
I have to confess that I have no idea what this song means. I think I'm happier that way.<br />
<br />
Phew, dodged that one. Say, who's that behind me? Excuse me, I-- *ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAP!*</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-78916116179649865342013-08-31T23:38:00.002-04:002013-09-01T12:37:53.822-04:00People Who Died<i>Ian I miss you more than all the others. I salute you, my brother!</i><br />
<br />
Jim Carroll was a poet who drifted into music under the influence of Patti Smith. Despite a lack of commercial success for his music, he lucked into having a song from his debut album, "People Who Died", included on the soundtrack to, of all things, E.T. The Extra Terrestrial, earning him royalties for the rest of his life. Later on his acclaimed 1978 novel <i>The Basketball Diaries</i> would be turned into a meaninglessly controversial Leo DiCaprio film and would eclipse the rest of his work in popular imagination. <br />
<br />
Then our man covered it in 1995 for the soundtrack to Antártida, an obscure Spanish film for which Cale composed the whole soundtrack (which as you might expect features several variations on "Antartica Starts Here"). Why? Who knows. Basketball Diaries fever, perhaps. But wow the band he put together: Chris Spedding of 70s solo notoriety, roving bassist Erik Sanko (who also worked with Carroll), and, oh, just Moe Tucker and Sterling Morrison.<br />
<br />
<iframe width="540" height="415" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/cWVt0AupICk?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
Cale's version loses the demented celebration that is the original's chorus and is really the main reason the people who love the song do. His vocals are very restrained and precise, lending the song a bizarrely nerdy feel. And yet... I can't dislike it. Obviously I'm addicted to his voice. But calming the song down helps amplify the hot spots in the verses Cale used. Cutting it down to the first three verses doesn't really hurt the song - in Carroll's version the additional and repeated verses seem like padding to justify doing the chorus over and over, louder and crazier each time. (Works for Carroll, wouldn't have for Cale.) I admit I've always been disappointed by Cale's flat affect in the emotional high point of the song for me: "Eddie I miss you more than all the others - I salute you, my brother!"<br />
<br />
Instrumentally the band pulls it out pretty well. The lead guitar part floats new-wavily above the mix in a pleasing way, and the basic track chugs along sweetly. Moe seems to get some backing vocals in, but they're mixed way low if they are really there. It's not a stellar reunion, but it's not an embarrassing one.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://olivier.landemaine.free.fr/vu/articles/sowhat/sowhat.html">Sterling Morrison</a> died of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma soon after the recording. Carroll left us in 2009 from a heart attack working at his desk. Two more friends who died.<br />
<br />
Carroll version video from the Leo flick after the jump.<br />
<br />
<span id="fullpost">(Skip to 1m20s if you want to miss the meatheads.)<br />
<iframe width="540" height="415" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/D4LqjVtXUvE?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<br />
P.S. How does one OD on Drano? <a href="http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=259287" target="_blank">Apparently buying heroin from the wrong dealer, i.e. a "hot shot."</a> Jesus what a way to die.<br />
</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-33339339710919623762013-02-08T23:36:00.004-05:002013-02-09T00:12:33.159-05:00Been away<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIXItMAr5mIA_BHGhq4_w2GhKRjX-BjQLC8mzOO9g6jo5uMbHM7cwhCd_H4Jv1h-1h9-GhAYdWAVpHslqlmcHH_bxfXboTDaZ1r4xD4rbh9_FN7kBTf8gIfwkJNxM2_iEFOcCHIW9U_Y/s400/RPI.jpg" width="90%" /></div><br />
But now I'm back.<br />
<br />
What did we miss? <a href="http://blogger.xs4all.nl/werksman/archive/2012/01/15/723988.aspx" target="_blank">A new compilation album of Cale productions</a>, some <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151374434449297.491975.277162839296&type=1" target="_blank">limited reissues of 70s records</a>, and, oh, right, a new record. (And a remix album, but that didn't do a whole lot for me.)<br />
<br />
I did at last manage to see Mr. Cale <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/21/arts/music/two-john-cale-programs-at-the-brooklyn-academy-of-music.html?_r=0" target="_blank">live at the Brooklyn Academy of Music last month</a> with the <a href="http://wordlessmusic.org/" target="_blank">Wordless Music Orchestra</a>. He performed <a href="http://www.setlist.fm/setlist/john-cale/2013/brooklyn-academy-of-music-brooklyn-ny-63db96ff.html" target="_blank">Paris 1919 and a selection of new and old songs</a>. I only caught him one night of the two, and apparently missed a live performance of Do Not Go Gentle... (which might be the first thing I discuss in this brutal new year).<br />
<br />
A little review: Paris went well, with some interesting spins on some of the songs. To be frank, <a href="/2007/12/childs-christmas-in-wales.html"><b>Child's Christmas</b></a> was a wreck, with guitar wanking all over the track and a little something off in everyone's timing. I steeled myself for an unpleasant evening, but things improved markedly on <b>Hanky Panky Nohow</b>. I wish I had written down my notes the same night, but precision is unnecessary. Some songs got dronier, some songs got poppier. Half Past France got a raga development that worked surprisingly well. The most pronounced change was <b>Graham Greene</b>, which lost its reggae completely and transformed into a Latin number, meanwhile achieving its ultimate destiny... well, I guess I ought to write about it. <b>Macbeth</b> was awkwardly grafted onto the end of the album. Why, I don't know.<br />
<br />
The second set was on the whole less awkward. Opener <a href="/2007/09/hedda-gabler.html"><b>Hedda Gabler</b></a> is a song I've heard too much; I still like Ibsen too much to entirely approve of Cale's use of the name, but the coda was worth the rest of the song. <a href="/2007/08/captain-hook.html"><b>Captain Hook</b></a> was catastrophically powerful, though Marka did not care for the guitar pyrotechnics. New song <b>Cry</b> was OK, but seemed a bit generic as many recent relationship songs have. I quite enjoy <b>Living With You</b> on the record, but except for a few moments where everything gelled it felt unworthy of stage time. <b>Riverbank </b>was a complete surprise and really hit the spot. A keyboard-driven <b>I Wanna Talk 2 U</b> (whose name still hurts to type) was boring live and not half as good as the album version, to me, but Marka liked it. <b>The Hanging</b> took me a while to place; it's an awfully strong song to bury on a Black Friday special edition!<br />
<br />
The orchestra then left the stage. Wordless Music includes many performers I like, and they mostly did very well, but I have to say, things felt much more natural and visceral with just the band. <b>Nookie Wood</b> blew the audience quite away, vocal effects and all, and <b>Venus in Furs</b> was the only way to end the night.<br />
<br />
I'm looking forward to the next time I see the band. Hopefully sans orchestra.Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-19080221630395664052012-03-09T07:04:00.001-05:002012-03-09T07:04:39.395-05:0070 Years Of John CaleA group of Cale fans got together over the last few months to put together a tribute to John Cale on his 70th birthday. I contributed my recording of Sanities. It was a very cool project to be part of and well worth your eyes and ears.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href=http://www.johncaletribute.com" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymq-8FYVCMs_VwTdzf8LFfaVtzHIc6X3MNP8IiYPHjFoyTESTaAPVLsmXlA44fKGyYNVeDWLYLj20cbt4NnI7Lie6QbAFB3GRPG67tKnZtjH6OcQTPznd0PvQ5X-S1GBdgSuwmECAHVk/s320/CaleTribute.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
For convenience of listening to all of the songs as a set, <a href="http://soundcloud.com/john-cale-tribute">you can check out the project's Soundcloud directly</a>.
Happy 70th birthday, Mr. Cale. I'm looking forward to the new album!Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-81156288167373894852012-01-04T21:30:00.004-05:002012-01-04T22:50:44.280-05:00Heartbreak Hotel XOK, so I sort of made up the name, but there needs to be some way to refer to the new reworking of Heartbreak Hotel that debuted as a sketch from the 2006 rehearsals on the Circus Live DVD*.<br /><br />It seems to be improvised - I say that because it's labeled "Heartbreak Hotel of sorts!!" on the DVD, and somebody says, "That was a moment!" when they're done. Cale's vocal isn't really in the same key as the rest of the track, to my ears, though as atonal as it is, it's hard to tell. The worst part of the original version is the cringe-inducing "diddy wah diddy" (verbatim) scat in between verses instead of "feeling so lonely" and the rest of the chorus. Despite these flaws, it's fairly compelling. He ends the song with a slurred chant of "whadda whadda whaddid I do," which sounds better than it looks.<br /><br />I thought it was a one-off when I first saw it, but Cale has been performing it live ever since. He's got a better handle on it now - it's less atonal and less jokey. (Occasional caveman backing vocals from his guitarist aside.) It's not as emotionally satisfying as the piano-driven versions from the early 80s through the 90s, but in general I like it at least as much as his original hard rawk recomposition of the song. (<a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2008/08/heartbreak-hotel.html">The main post about Heartbreak Hotel is here, if you missed it.</a>)<br /><br /><center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kLNCEqksFww" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></center><br /><br />"I'm scared and I wanna go home," said the guitarist after they played that first version. I agree with the first part at least, but I'm happy that he's still doing violence to old songs.<br /><br /><span><sup>*</sup> The forty minutes of rehearsal footage alone being a perfectly good reason to pick up the set. The DVD is region-free and the set is cheap now!</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-83414897759039847482011-12-17T23:55:00.003-05:002011-12-17T23:57:45.066-05:00MonetizedHi. I am going to do a trial of AdWords ads. If I can cover the costs of domain renewal at least, it might be worthwhile, if it doesn't kill the visual appeal of the site (ha). If nothing else it will be a learning experience. <br /><br />If you hate it, let me know. Your opinion counts (R).Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-61086721194868332702011-12-17T21:18:00.005-05:002011-12-17T23:58:17.210-05:00Ooh La LaIf you took a poll among aficionados on John Cale's worst songs, you can bet that "Ooh La La" would rank high. Honestly, I don't think that's fair. Here's why. <br /><br />In the song, Cale plays an older lech who hypnotizes the fair Continental ladies and leads them into sin, only to have his misdeeds catch up with him. If you haven't heard it, give a listen:<br /><br /><center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/V2ZBFGP18EA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center><br /><br />That's the version that was released on <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/search/label/John%20Cale%20Comes%20Alive">John Cale Comes Alive</a> and as a single in 1984. Cale really hams it up, chewing scenery in the studio as seldom before or since.<br /><br />There's another version of the song that was released on <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/search/label/Seducing%20Down%20the%20Door">Seducing Down the Door</a> and possibly Comes Alive in some regions. Despite a different mix, it's mostly the same instrumentally. It adds a cool atonal middle-eight and features completely different vocals. Cale plays it straight, with a barely-sung part drowning in self-regard. Meanwhile, his guitarist Dave Young takes over the hamming in a shouted word part, putting on various accents and trying to get Mr. Cale's attention.<br /><br />OK, so the sequenced drums are tacky. It's all tacky! It's supposed to be! I mean, for God's sake: "Zoe had a crush on Castro; and Camilla, she loved Bob Hope. But after staring into <b>my</b> clear blue eyes, they both went looking for the Pope!" "I try to hide behind my smile, but they seem to know me... by my stare!" The whole song is as much a comic pisstake as <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2008/08/chickenshit.html">Chickenshit</a> or Hey Ray and should be approached accordingly.<br /><br />If Cale had made a career of the dirty old man schtick after this, I would hold it against him. (In fact, I hold exactly that against Nick Cave.) But he didn't, so I enjoy this as dumb comedy. And as parody it isn't unwarranted - God knows there are a lot of European films of the late 20th century that take this subject very seriously.<br /><br />It did pretty much suck live, though. I'm glad he didn't perform it beyond the tour.Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-11511752666539333472011-11-26T22:07:00.007-05:002011-12-17T22:58:27.901-05:00Catching up...<img style="float:right; margin-left:10px; width: 245px; height: 218px;" src="http://www.recordstoreday.com/Photo/418454687786:245" alt="John Cale Extra Playful" />¿Qué Pasa? They snuck out a new Cale album yesterday in the US without me knowing about it? I never dreamed I'd learn of a new Cale release by discovering it in a record store, but there you are.<br /><br />The Record Store Day 2: Black Friday release of <span style="font-style:italic;">EP: Extra Playful</span> features two new tracks not otherwise available. The full tracklist:<ol><li>Catastrofuk</li><li>Whaddya Mean By That</li><li>Hey Ray</li><li>Pile A L'Heure</li><li>Perfection</li><li>Bluetooth Swings</li><li>The Hanging</li></ol>Black Friday pisses me off, and I did not partake. There were only two copies left at my record store today. Lucky me.<br /><br />I'm midway through my first listen, but I'm favorably impressed so far. I had managed to avoid hearing Hey Ray and Whaddya Mean in their live versions. It's somewhat unserious and even jokey, though, in the vein of some of blackAcetate or Jumbo. The two bonus tracks on the US Black Friday release seem more demo-ish than the five original tracks. The Hanging is more fleshed out by far. I think this will have legs, but only time will tell...<br /><br /><img style="float:left; margin-right:10px;width: 245px; height: 218px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41qKUXozEFL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" border="0" alt="John Cale Live at Rockpalast" />In other news... I have done you a disservice by not commenting on the recent CD, DVD, and vinyl (!) releases of John Cale's two Rockpalast shows. I picked them up shortly after release, but didn't have much to say at first.<br /><br />The CD release is great. It could be mixed better, but it's much better than the bootleg I had previously. The band show (Essen 1984) is not his best of that tour, and that band wasn't his best of the era, but it's still a good listen. (<i>John Cale Comes Alive</i> covers the same tour in superior versions but with many fewer tracks.) The solo show (Bochen 1983) is excellent - rather less crazed than other shows, but more competent. It features my favorite recording of "Only Time Will Tell" to date.<br /><br />The DVD is essential if you like watching Mr. Cale live... and who doesn't. The band show is more entertaining to watch. Heartbreak Hotel and Streets of Laredo will make much more sense when listening to the show after you've watched it.<br /><br />The vinyl is disappointing. The two-disc release includes the entire band performance, but only four tracks from the solo performance, and not the best ones at that. I'd have preferred selections from both shows. But it is nicely done (better materials than Cale Comes Alive) and worth picking up for superfans.<br /><br />Hopefully I'll see you again sooner than this time next year. It is beginning to be a habit, though...Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-24854065855098996682010-11-21T02:30:00.002-05:002010-11-21T03:30:21.722-05:00Here's to Johnny ViolaIt's been a year since I posted? Where has the time gone? I struggled way back in January with the ongoing disaster in Haiti, trying to use it to post on Tonton Macoute. Which, come to think of it, might be worth trying again...<br /><br />But, maybe as a way to ease back into this thing, why don't we discuss a true rarity: a song about, or at least inspired by, Mr. Cale.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.shearwatermusic.com/">Shearwater</a> are, to my mind, at the very top of the art-music world right now, in quality if not in sales, having delivered three consecutive albums of depth, evocation, and a stark beauty. As frontman and songwriter Jonathan Meiburg put it, the trilogy is music on a theme: "no sound ever comes from inside the gates of Eden."<br /><br />The first in the very loose trilogy, 2006's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palo_Santo">Palo Santo</a>, is ostensibly a theme album. Every song, Meiburg claims, is connected in some way to the life of Nico. Despite my fair knowledge of Ms. Päffgen's life and a deep and abiding love for the album, I can't tell you how.<br /><br />But that's neither here nor there. About three years after I first heard the album, I finally realized that a song called "Johnny Viola" on an album inspired by Nico had to be a reference to our own Mr. Cale. It was the first non-single track on the album that caught my ear, at that.<br /><br />Have a listen:<br /><br /><center><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Zaai4LzWaR8?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Zaai4LzWaR8?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object></center><br /><br />OK, so I can't tell you how it relates to <span style="font-style:italic;">our</span> Johnny Viola. But it is an awesome song, and I was tickled and somewhat chagrined to finally make the connection.<br /><br />[N.B. they're using "The Black Angel's Death Song" as intro music for their concerts this tour. You know, to set the mood a bit. I may have been the only person at the show really enjoying it.]Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-55495982740431754492009-11-22T03:58:00.008-05:002011-12-17T23:29:57.856-05:00Paris 1919<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTL6JkeTTNFT-83nQ9i2RPs_PR_R1B3qpvA7LDIea4qZsNvFg79xltl9n1MBY-SrFTMEiHbjbFjnIALhA3bhCwyr_W21MpqzQZZceC8tSnUNvD3cZM0h7vWb2-xGbNTFzLv6zLNYnO5E/s1600/paris1919.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 15px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTL6JkeTTNFT-83nQ9i2RPs_PR_R1B3qpvA7LDIea4qZsNvFg79xltl9n1MBY-SrFTMEiHbjbFjnIALhA3bhCwyr_W21MpqzQZZceC8tSnUNvD3cZM0h7vWb2-xGbNTFzLv6zLNYnO5E/s320/paris1919.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406852808815349570" /></a>Stealing from myself, from when I was first learning of the mysteries of John Cale a long long time ago. I don't know where I got the lyrics, or why inane pop culture references seemed like a good idea at the time. But it may have led to the existence of this blog, so oh well.<br /><br /><blockquote>Well, kids, today we're going to analyze a song. Well, "analyze" is a little strong. "Annotate" is better.<br /><br /><code><b><span style="font-size:130%;">Paris 1919<sup>17</sup></span></b><br /><b>John Cale</b><br /><br />She makes me so unsure of myself<br />Standing there but never talking sense<sup>0</sup><br />Just a visitor you see<br />So much wanting to be seen<br />She'd open up the door and vaguely<sup>1</sup> carry us away<br /></code><span id="fullpost"><code><br />It's the customary thing to say or do<br />To a disappointed proud man in his grief<sup>2</sup><br />And on Fridays she'd be there<br />And on Wednesday<sup>3</sup> not at all<br />Just casually appearing from the clock across the hall<sup>4</sup><br /><br />You're a ghost la la la<sup>5</sup><br />You're a ghost<br />I'm in the church<sup>6</sup> and I've come<br />To claim you with my iron drum<sup>7</sup><br />la la la la la la<br /><br />The Continent's just fallen in disgrace<sup>8</sup><br />William William William Rogers<sup>9</sup> put it in its place<br />Blood and tears from old Japan<sup>10</sup><br />Caravans and lots of jam and maids of honor<br />singing crying singing tediously<sup>11</sup><br /><br />You're a ghost la la la<br />You're a ghost<br />I'm the bishop<sup>12</sup> and I've come<br />To claim you with my iron drum<br />la la la la la la<br /><br />Efficiency efficiency they say<br />Get to know the date and tell the time of day<sup>13</sup><br />As the crowds begin complaining<br />How the Beaujolais<sup>14</sup> is raining<br />Down on darkened meetings<sup>15</sup> on the Champs Elysee<sup>16</sup></code><br /><ol start="0"><li>Stop making sense. Also, Cale sings, "never ever," which suits the meter better. It feels better in the mouth, so to speak. Try them both, you'll see.<br /></li><li>It's strange how evocative a word as vague and unconnotative as "vague" is in this context. Perhaps we appreciate vagueness in our haunters.<br /></li><li>George McGovern. Or... hm.<br /></li><li>He sings "Mondays" on the record. The significance of this is unclear.<br /></li><li>Could it be he's singing to a figure on a mechanical clock show? Perhaps a clock figurine relating to the end of World War I?<br /></li><li>A spectre, a spirit, a spook. The tension between the lightheartedness of the delivery and the rather morbid subject matter is what drives the song.<br /></li><li>He actually sings, I believe, "I'm the Church," which accords better with footnote 12.<br /></li><li>The symbol of power-hungry oppression. Or perhaps the original Ghost Trap. Who ya gonna call? JOHN CALE!<br /></li><li>This could refer to any number of political, religious, or cultural events. Speculation is imprudent.<br /></li><li><a href="http://www.infoplease.com/ce6/people/A0842257.html">Richard Nixon's Secretary of State (1969-1973)</a>. So... either [M.o.t.A.] is right and it's Will Rogers, or the song is tangentially about Vietnam. Or the Middle East. Hm.<br /></li><li>Japanese captives, perhaps? But Japan was on the side of the good and the right in World War I (for all it mattered)... so what gives?<br /></li><li>A tableaux of the spoils of war, one assumes... but of the Second World War? It fits Paris 1919, I suppose...<br /></li><li>A Catholic or Episcopal ecclesiastical middle manager. They have been known to haunt the cathedrals of Paris.<br /></li><li>An old Norman saying. Or possibly an old Welsh saying. Or I could be making this up.<br /></li><li>A red wine from the <a href="http://www.beaujolais-wines.com/">Beaujolais</a> region, duh. Made trendy recently through the brilliant marketing of a mediocre wine from an increasingly mediocre winery.<br /></li><li>The sort, one assumes, conducted by drunken politicians.<br /></li><li><i>La plus belle avenue du monde.</i> Notably the avenue that passes under the Arc de Triomphe.<br /></li><li>As in the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/sim-explorer/explore-items/-/0375508260/">Treaty of Versailles</a>. What, Korea or Vietnam? And how does this relate to <a href="http://www.xs4all.nl/~werksman/cale/lyrics/paris_1919.html#greene">Graham Greene?</a></li></ol></span></blockquote>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-48194023551390361862009-09-11T08:08:00.003-04:002009-09-24T02:08:28.409-04:00Waiting for BlondeA long-time New Yorker like John Cale surely couldn't resist the lure of adding a "September 11 song" to his catalog, right? I mean, Leonard Cohen gave in, Bruce Springsteen went concept album, and Neil Young and Paul McCartney managed to plumb some career-low depths in their attempts. Even <B>Lou</b> wrote poetry to grapple with the event.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tV2Shq_C4CF0k2sbajg5gCi8uUfkCa-yCIat_Vuciji-i0hziQ0hwVSSgQksSB5EXJyX99Buj9qfBoz2MgqQmP6cp_8wRDcY4VlCaofzdaa0gI80gI6yQvql6jdpqzNJiUx_LQHymdI/s1600-h/ratsnest.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tV2Shq_C4CF0k2sbajg5gCi8uUfkCa-yCIat_Vuciji-i0hziQ0hwVSSgQksSB5EXJyX99Buj9qfBoz2MgqQmP6cp_8wRDcY4VlCaofzdaa0gI80gI6yQvql6jdpqzNJiUx_LQHymdI/s320/ratsnest.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384911735947939266" /></a><br />No, dear reader, he couldn't resist. But he did exercise an astonishing amount of restraint back in 2003, working on the 5 Tracks EP and really stretching the boundaries of his songwriting. It was a very fertile time in his later career, and "Waiting for Blonde" benefits a great deal from the amount of experience, closely observed human interaction, and narrative trickiness poured into it. <br /><br /><span id="fullpost">It opens with transit station samples, followed by a laggy beat and a stop-and-go baseline that starts out faint and pensive. Viola creates a haze made thicker by various electronic trickery. Cale makes a statement of purpose: he's giving us a preview of a play he intends to write, about a subway car hawker. With that single line of setup, he switches into the hawker's voice.<br /><br />The hawker speaks in repetitive phrases: "I am a very good businessman. Good morning ladies and gentlemen," selling batteries (including the MIGHTY C BATTERY) and taunting (?) the people on the train who are "waiting for Blonde: You are New Yorkers. You are the very best." The title is never explained, and doesn't need to be.<br /><br />Halfway through the song, after the first chorus, it hits the bridge: everything stops, turns; the tension ratchets up. "Your skin is crawling; your tongue is in a trance. Remember you are New Yorkers, and this is your last chance. Good morning ladies and gentlemen - good morning! Step away from the closing doors." The finality with which that familiar exhortation is delivered is really striking.<br /><br />For the final section of the song, Cale gives a lesson in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_New_York_City_Subway_stations">NYC subway geography</a> (I'm still a little unclear which station the song is supposed to be set in.) It's obvious that he's going for the WTC, though: familiar names pop up "the Z train and Port Authority; the PATH train" -- and here he slips the crumbling-civilization dagger in -- "and all stations to Atlantis."<br /><br />An ambiguous, haunting track that actually succeeds in its stated aim as theatre, and addresses a catastrophe and tragedy without being trite or stupid. Not bad, Mr. Cale. Not bad at all. <br /><br />Now, if only I could figure out the scat backing vocals at the end. "The spider sat beside her to the left"...?</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-71167657440043553432009-06-09T22:47:00.006-04:002009-11-22T08:48:07.448-05:00The Moon Her Majesty<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;width: 160px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQ7zZcW7hrxwtTDL5B-9gpFOlRi8gRgjNhI14Ab4gpiIRF8rTHarf2z9yIqpnzArzBJVSz61Jwu2UY66z099Puk-b-Wo_Z4X_lBneS5cJv3i9Upw2rNver0kG3R_1VTYUIBrK-Q5j6LI/s320/TheMoonHerMajesty.JPG" border="0" alt="The Moon Her Majesty" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345533840253018594" />Celebrating the just-past full moon in June, here's another little oddity from the late Nineties, when our man was happy to do recitations for just about anybody who asked. Mr. Cale recorded <a href="http://invisiblecinema.typepad.com/invisible_cinema/2008/12/ball-full-of-mountains-and-moons-.html">this poem</a> as a spoken-word piece for the Kerouac tribute <span style="font-style:italic;">Kicks Joy Darkness</span>. I can only assume he composed the music as well, as the quasi-ambient keyboards certainly fit his style and sound. There's not really that much to discuss in the content: analysis of Kerouac certainly isn't my game. <br /><br />I will say that I prefer Cale's planetarium-music reading of the piece to the <a href="http://cdn2.libsyn.com/funeralpudding/JackKerouac-TheMoonHerMajesty.mp3">author's own looney tunes take</a> (<a href="http://funeralpudding.blogspot.com/2008/02/2-hour-mix-for-lunar-eclipse.html">props to Funeral Pudding</a>), though Cale's recitation of "little spritely otay" is probably the most sheepish he's ever sounded on record. In parts, he makes Kerouac's writing sound like Dylan Thomas, which is something of an achievement.<br /><br />I'd really like to make this available for download, but it's on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kerouac-Kicks-Joy-Darkness/dp/B001RZ66YQ/">Amazon MP3</a>. Warren Zevon's recording of Running Through Chinese Poem Song, another poem about the moon (a jaundiced look at Apollo), is worth picking up for contrast. (Note: Amazon's track artist listings are completely wrong for this album. Which is somewhat appropriate.)Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-55657093563334862182009-05-31T20:00:00.010-04:002011-12-17T23:30:50.671-05:00Ship of Fools<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftnBO53NNU2nUMdd38A9WkQDn-c0P7GfgH7nHbXA-cxr7Z4Jid1O2pWwXHg_JmURycLmWSOSODySv9C2R2QcruJNYDCl5sYss47EGyW8UHmCJYBUlJACLw8RoLx2UD0HsXKRNHnDTOqM/s1600-h/ShipOfFools.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 185px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftnBO53NNU2nUMdd38A9WkQDn-c0P7GfgH7nHbXA-cxr7Z4Jid1O2pWwXHg_JmURycLmWSOSODySv9C2R2QcruJNYDCl5sYss47EGyW8UHmCJYBUlJACLw8RoLx2UD0HsXKRNHnDTOqM/s320/ShipOfFools.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342192082435937042" /></a><br />Part of the insane fun of following John Cale is engaging in cross-referential snipe hunts in an attempt to get inside Cale's head. For instance, one might listen to "<a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/08/cable-hogue.html">Cable Hogue</a>" and have one's curiosity piqued enough to pick up the bizarro Sam Peckinpah film <span style="font-style:italic;">The Ballad of Cable Hogue</span>. "Ship of Fools" might likewise trigger the Dear Listener to check out the Katherine Anne Porter novel involving an international bunch of losers sailing from Mexico to Nazi-infested Germany. I do not recommend this course of action; it won't help you much in understanding Cale's song. The novel comes down squarely on the "people suck" side of the philosophical fence, but you can get that just by listening to <span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/search/label/Fear">Fear</a></span> and it won't take nearly as long. So let's just concern ourselves with Cale's take on the loaded allegorical image of deranged passengers aboard a ship with no pilot.<br /><span id="fullpost"><br />Cale's "Ship of Fools" opens with a lovely floating motif, less appropriate to a ship than to a carousel. It sounds like a metallophone but apparently isn't, so it must be Brian Eno on the synth. Then Cale's weary voice comes in, complaining of hunger. Hunger is prominent in the early verses, hunger and desolation: "The black book, a grappling hook / A hangman's noose on a burnt-out tree." Cale and his friends are in Arizona, it seems-- wait a minute, Arizona? And fishermen who dream of sailing to there from Tennessee? On what river? <br /><br />Cale's phantom caravan sails from Tombstone to Memphis, where Dracula gets onboard, and from there proceeds to Swansea. Home to Wales, in other words. And that's really the key here-- the images of hunger and poverty and desperate fishermen have nothing to do with Tennessee and Arizona at all. The hangman's noose and southern prayers are just another fantastic vision, Old Europe's fever dreams of the New World. <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/07/chinese-envoy.html">Invisible cities</a>, <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/08/buffalo-ballet.html">again</a>. <br /><br />But hold on, sister's gone south to give the sign. Is there hope? Probably not; the entire point of a ship of fools is that it's a bogus ark of salvation. Like a jester king on Mardi Gras, it's all cheap dazzle with no substance or authority. It'll be another Christmas in Wales with no food, just unfulfilled delusions. <br /> <br />And the ship fades into the distance with the carousel motif burbling merrily away. Round and round we go, and we're not getting anywhere.</span>Mark of the Asphodelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14559240762068577710noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-65533858913861691712009-03-21T23:57:00.004-04:002009-03-22T00:18:39.196-04:00Sanities reduxI don't normally make apologies for irregular posting, but <a href="http://youcanttrustviolence.blogspot.com/">after calling Ian out</a> I have to make my own mea culpa. I've just been very busy with other projects and have neglected this blog. <br /><br />Ironically I've been going through a Cale renaissance. I was disappointed but not surprised that the shiny new Watchmen film did not include Sanities (<a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/11/sanities.html">which I already covered</a>). Can't really say anything about it, as I've not seen it, but I was inspired to get some version of Sanities on the internet, and so put together this cover in an hour.<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z5h4AeIoOtU&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z5h4AeIoOtU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center><br />There's no special insight in this version, and it loses some of my favorite things about Cale's original. This is much more of a one-note horror film number. It does have a certain something in moments, though, I think. In any case, I made it, I'm not too ashamed of it, and I thought I would share it. I promise I won't make this a habit.Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2367859846495854541.post-1493209118567948582009-01-25T23:07:00.004-05:002009-01-28T01:31:04.954-05:00Everytime the Dogs BarkSo, <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2009/01/outta-bag.html">as promised</a>, next time. The official John Cale Sunday morning record, 1985's <i><a href="http://www.xs4all.nl/~werksman/cale/disc/artificial_intelligence.html">Artificial Intelligence</a></i>, is led off by the song "<a href="http://www.xs4all.nl/~werksman/cale/lyrics/artificial_intelligence.html#everytime_the_dogs_bark">Everytime the Dogs Bark</a>" (referenced in a verse or two of 2005's blackAcetate's leadoff track Outta the Bag). It's the dawn of a new era in his career, and it shows in his songwriting.<br /><br />The album, whose Lazarus "Ratso" Sloman-assisted composition should indicate debauchery and dissolution, is in fact something of a cleanup album. For all its <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2008/03/vigilante-lover.html">anger</a> and <a href="http://blog.fragmentsofcale.net/2007/07/chinese-takeaway-hong-kong-1997.html">randomness</a> there's a new self-consciousness and a desire to present some sort of respectable front to the world. I should really save this stuff for the post on "Song of the Valley," though. The leadoff track, then. <br /><br />At first and several subsequent listens, it's a bit of a mess, sonically: artificial instrumental keyboard textures, weirdly processed guitar, and a sort of 80s-funk feel that might well be repulsive. Many people, in fact, do seem to find it repulsive. But not me. Partly because Cale's vocal is clean and strong and aggressive, no longer the overly affected vocal of Caribbean Sunset, trying too hard to reassert itself. Partly because I can't resist that opening lyric:<br /><br /><i>If you want to be the heart of midnight, you've gotta be either cynical or dead.<br />All those you hold in estimation no longer count among your friends.</i><span id="fullpost"><br /> <br />The lyrics sort of meander from there, though, and I can't tell you what the hell the song's supposed to be about. But the money moment, the one that contributes the title to the song and provides that reference twenty years later, that's probably what really hooked me on the song:<br /><br /><i>Listen to the slamming doors<br />Listen to the ship-to-shore<br />Listen and listen hard<br />Everytime the dogs bark</i><br /><br />The music there, keyboard chords like huge bells being struck and everything else falling silent, combined with Cale's vocal (touching the edge of danger and threat without going too far, without losing control), makes me think of some escaped and vengeful convict, hauling himself onto shore after an exhausting swim - an escape from an island prison - a pursuit of some black demon ship - I dunno. Some great, anachronistic, fantastical adventure out of Dumas or Alan Moore. It gives a context (or a Greek chorus?) to the disconnected verse lyrics that allows them to resonate better than they should - and played a big role, along with other songs on this album, in informing my understanding of Cale's view of his own career.<br /><br />But let me put a word in for the music. Instrumentally, it's really not the genuine bad fake funk (rebadged disco?) of the 80s. It's something more respectable than that. (Hell, it's not far from "Outta the Bag" or even real Beck-funk.) The guitar work is really quite tasty. And I do have a thing for dirty, messy, noisy, artificial 80s keyboards. And this was one of the first Cale records I heard, after Fragments and Paris 1919 and the doom trilogy. So perhaps I am uniquely qualified to enjoy this track - but I hope not.<br /><br />Further back up the chain of references: As I fell further into Cale-addiction, picking up the obscure and rare releases one by one off foreign web stores and eBay and less reputable sources, I snagged one particularly odd release. And when I got to the second track, one of the least in-control and respectable tracks on one of his least in-control and respectable albums, it struck me that <i>this song</i> referenced it. So maybe next time we'll visit that seedy and disreputable part of his career.</span>Inverarityhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09838650110847975337noreply@blogger.com6