Yearly Archives: 2012

Jellyfish Sampler

Jellyfish was an awesome band, but don’t take my word for it:

 

 

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Your Next Favorite Band: Jellyfish

They say that stars that burn twice as bright burn half as long.  I want to introduce you to a really amazing power-pop band from the 1990’s, but before I do I must warn you: they only put out two records.  If you’re the kind of person that obsesses over really awesome shit that never got its proper due, maybe you should sit this one out.  Jellyfish was a band that I grew up with and to this day I still love them and smile whenever I hear one of their songs.  I’ve met precious few people who’ve even heard of them (or can remember them) and that’s a real shame because they put out two damn near perfect records.

A word about “power-pop.”  I really feel stupid using that term and not just because it sounds like a super-caffeinated soft drink.  In general, I really dislike the concept of “genre.” But I must admit that it does serve as a nice bit of short-hand when you’re trying to talk to people so I’m going to use the term “power-pop.”  Power-pop is basically rock music that features strong lyrical hooks and big guitar riffs.  Melodies and harmonies are also really important in power-pop.  A lot of the British invasion-era rock could be considered power-pop, but for the most part the term is applied to bands that came after/were influenced by those bands.  So The Beatles are not considered power-pop but Badfinger (who came later and are basically the same band) are power-pop.

BELLYBUTTON-era Jellyfish. Awesome musicians with terrible fashion sense.

Jellyfish was formed in 1989 in San Francisco, California. The band had several members over the years but the foundation of the band was two super-talented, multi-instrumentalists: Andy Sturmer and Roger Joseph Manning, Jr.*  Andy was primarily the drummer and Roger played keyboards.   For their first album, Roger and Andy were joined by bassist Chris Manning a duty that was also shared by Steven Shane McDonald (of Redd Kross-fame, another great power-pop band from this era) and guitarist Jason Falkner.  To say that these  lads had talent is the worst kind of understatement–there really were four geniuses in the band. And while that helped make the first Jellyfish album, BELLYBUTTON, an instant-classic…it also lead to a lot of tension.

BELLYBUTTON came out in 1990 and was met with moderate success.  The album spawned three singles, “The King Is Half-Undressed,” “That Is Why,” and “Baby’s Coming Back.”   Some quirky music videos and a funky day-glo image helped get people’s attention, though the band was never a true household name.  BELLYBUTTON’s sound is one of lush harmonies and catchy-as-hell choruses.  The Beatles and Beach Boys are all over this record (they even mention The Beatles by name in  “All I Want Is Everything”). And while the band doesn’t ever quite go full-on psychedelic, they get close.  It’s a bit difficult to say “this is what Jellyfish sounds like” because like late-period Beatles (and super-druggy Brian Wilson), Jellyfish experiment with different sounds and instruments.

Among the kaleidoscope of 1960’s-ish sounds there are are two really nice ballads, “I Wanna Stay Home” and “Calling Sarah.”  “I Wanna Stay Home” in particular almost sounds like it belongs on a totally different record.  It’s a very sincere song that’s about having to go even though you just want to say home.  The very next song “She Still Loves Him” is a haunting tale about an abusive relationship, it’s a great song, with some really sharp lyrics and an awesome guitar solo…but it also feels very odd after “I Wanna Stay Home.”  BELLYBUTTON, while a fantastic record, is not a unified work of art.  Instead it’s more of an awesome Frankenstein’s Monster of a record, with a bunch of really awesome bits sown together.   There are a ton of really nice little details that really don’t appreciate on the first few listens.  Some of my favorites include: the nice trumpet part at the beginning of “Bedspring Kiss”, the faux-live effect/crowd sound on the Cheap Trick-like “All I Want Is Everything”**, and the dreamy piano noodling that plays before “She Still Loves Him.”

In 1993 the band put out their second album SPILT MILK.  This album sadly did not feature most of the band from the first record–gone was everyone but Sturmer and Manning Jr.  A new bassist, Tim Smith, was added to the mix along with a few session guitarists.  Despite the change in personnel, I actually prefer SPILT MILK and think it’s the stronger of the two records.  SPILT MILK is interesting because Jellyfish takes the 1960’s British-Pop aesthetics of BELLYBUTTON and apply a thick coating of Glam Rock.  What you get is something that sounds like Queen-by-way-of-The Beatles.  Oddly enough, despite losing their guitarists, SPILT MILK also has way better guitar parts/solos, though Roger Manning’s keyboards do wind up taking a more prominent role.  SPILT MILK is full of such dualities: it’s a keyboard album with awesome guitars, dark and angry but has a playful song about masturbation (“He’s My Best Friend”).

The album opens with the quiet, lullaby-like “Hush” which ironically leads into the explosive “Joining A Fanclub.” I can’t say enough about how awesome “Joining A Fanclub” is.  Ostensibly about the dangers of stardom and hero worship, the songs is a really headbangger.  It’s the kind of song you hear while driving and it causes you to get a speeding ticket.  Every time I hear it I think about Robert Downey Jr. (who at the time this song was written was constantly getting into trouble with the law).  I also really love “New Mistake” with it’s twisty-lyrics about an “oops” pregnancy–the best part? At the end the baby grows up and marries a pop singer (because it’s time for her to make her “first mistake.”).  This is the kind of song that keep me up at night it’s so awesome.  I almost don’t believe it was crafted by mere mortals.  I also can’t help but marvel at “The Ghost Of Number One” which seems to poke fun at the fact that the band knew that they weren’t going to reach the level of success that they deserved.

Like BELLYBUTTON, Jellyfish’s second record also features some interesting experimentation. I’m confident that I’d never been exposed to Klezmer music*** before I heard “Bye Bye Bye.”  That song alone is worth the purchase price of the album, it’s simply a stunningly awesome song, and was definitely not something you heard on the radio in 1993 (or hell today for that matter).  The album ends with the magnificent, circus-themed “Brighter Day.” The song is a fantastic way to close the record and unfortunately the recording career of Jellyfish.  And when it ends all you want to do is start the whole thing over again. 

So what happened? Well a lack of success and bruised egos led Jellyfish to die an unglamorous death, alone and relatively unmourned.  Jason Falkner and Roger Joseph Manning, Jr. both have had relatively successful solo-careers (Falkner in particular has recorded some amazing records).  Lead-singer Andy Sturmer gave up being in bands and is how a producer.  Over the years the band has developed a somewhat cult-following online.  I wrote my one and only Wikipedia entry in 2006 when a greatest-hits compilation called BEST! was released.  It’s not a very long article, more like an album stub but for some reason I felt compelled to write it.  Jellyfish is one of those bands I simply can’t imagine living without and it bums me out that so few people are aware of them.  I highly, highly recommend Jellyfish. 

 

ENDNOTES:

*Fun fact, the “Jr.” had to be added to Roger’s professional name because it turned out there already WAS a semi-not-really famous musician named Roger Joseph Manning.  What are the chances of such a thing?  Now go win that super-obscure power-pop bar-trivia.

 

**It sounds like LIVE AT BUDOKAN, get it?

 

***Jewish Eastern European music. It’s as awesome as it sounds. 

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C. Berry

Last winter I saw the King of Rock ‘n Roll.  It’s pretty hard to believe that he’s still alive, let alone still performing, but it’s true.  Once a month Chuck Berry plays a concert at a place called Blueberry Hill here in St. Louis.  It’s a kitschy restaurant full of dusty memorabilia cases and old arcade games.  There’s two bars, one upstairs and another in the basement which is called The Duck Room.  Named after Berry’s signature dance move (you’ve seen it even if you didn’t know what it was called, Michael J. Fox does it at the end of BACK TO THE FUTURE) The Duck Room is not a glamorous place, it looks exactly like the basement of a restaurant.  Only with a bar and a funny ha-ha duck decor.  Blue Berry Hill has quite a few concerts down in the Duck Room, I’ve seen a few acts there–but the only time I’ve ever seen the place sell-out is when Chuck Berry plays.

Usually The Duck Room is a standing-room-only affair, but for Berry they owners brought out a few crappy chairs.  The audience was mixed, young and old, there were more than a few people pushing 70 in the crowd.  Which seems about right considering Berry himself is 85 years old.  A serviceable cover band opened the show (sorry I can’t remember their name) and once they finished, Chuck Berry’s band, which consists of his children and family friends, took to the tiny stage.  After a little intro music a very tall, very spry man shuffled up onto the stage.  He was wearing a white captains hat and had a guitar.  If you’ve ever seen a picture of Chuck Berry, from any year, then you know what he looks like to this very day.   It’s amazing how some people age…and how others don’t.  I’d like to think that in Berry’s case, it’s rock ‘n roll that’s kept him young.

Seeing Chuck Berry play songs like “Sweet Little Sixteen,” “No Particular Place To Go,” “You Never Can Tell,” and yes “Johnny B. Goode,” was akin to the times I saw  Paul McCartney and The Rolling Stones.  It still doesn’t feel real to me that I’ve been in the same room as them.  And as amazing as they were, Berry is in a whole class to himself.   Open up Keith Richards (excellent) autobiography LIFE.  Go ahead, open up that massive book to just about any page and chances are you’ll see Chuck Berry’s name–he talks about Berry endlessly.  I’ve read more than one rock biography or interview where Berry’s name was spoken as though he were a living, breathing God.  We sort of take it for granted now, but once there was a time when there was no rock music.  White people liked really boring big band music (or whatever) and black people played blues music for each other. Berry didn’t invent rock ‘n roll, that suggests that he plucked it out of thin air or that it’s components didn’t already exist.  No, Berry took rhythm and blues music and he distilled it like Jack Daniels, into the potent concoction we know today.

It’s pretty amazing that Berry is still alive and even more amazing that he still performs regularly.  I feel honored to live in the same city as the man who changed pop music forever.  The rest of St. Louis feels the same way because recently a monument was built in Berry’s honor.  Located directly across the street from Blueberry Hill (and a stones throw from Vintage Vinyl, the city’s best record store), the monument features Berry’s lyrics carved into the ground, an illuminated wall that displays the musical notes for “Johnny B. Good,” and an 8-foot bronze statue of the man himself.  All hail the King of Rock ‘N Roll! Long live the king.

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Check Out This Sweet SAY ANYTHING Bear

My wife gave me this framed picture of a bear imitating John Cusack from SAY ANYTHING for my birthday.

Check it out:

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Depression & “Redondo Beach” with Morrissey

Lately I’ve hit a bit of a rough patch. I’m not depressed, per say, but I’m definitely bummed out. Nothing really big and terrible has happened, it’s just a bunch of little things all adding to a larger pile of misery. While wallowing last week, a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to see Morrissey in New York this October. Of course I had to say “no” (Defending Axl Rose hasn’t made me a millionaire yet). She’s never seen Morrissey live and as someone who has I encouraged her to go without me.

That conversation got me thinking about Morrissey and why I love him so much. His band The Smiths were super influential and anyone even thinking about writing songs (happy or sad) should definitely check out the work of The Smiths. But Morrissey’s specialty is really sad songs. I can’t think of another human being who (at least on the surface) is more depressed than Morrissey. God help us all if Morrissey ever finds happiness. In fact, as terrible as it is, I truly do not wish happiness upon ‘ol Moz. I don’t think he could handle it.

Is Morrissey gay? Is Morrissey straight? Will he get back with The Smiths? I could care less about these tabloid questions that so obsess the British media. All I care is he’s fucking miserable and recording music. I guess I’m old fashioned.

Here Morrissey is sad because someone scribbled all over his guitar…

One of my favorite songs I’ve ever heard him sing is a cover of the Patti Smith song “Redondo Beach.” It’s a tragic song about two lovers one of whom (spoiler) kills herself after the couple has a fight near Redondo Beach. Morrissey released a live cover of “Redondo Beach” in 2004 in support of his LIVE AT EARLS COURT album. As songs go, it’s good even though it is pretty melodramatic. The song’s narrator sings about how he got in a “quarrel” with “you” (his lover) who he now can’t seem to find. In a seemingly unrelated bit of news a girl has washed up on Redondo Beach…and in the end it his love is gone forever because:

Down by the ocean

It was so dismal

I was just standing

With shock on my face though

The hearse pulled away

And the girl that had died it was you

Shakespeare this isn’t, but the tragedy, especially when Morrissey (our main-man of depression) is singing it I can’t help but feel bad. And I like that. I guess the same part of us that likes to watch scary movies is the same part that likes to hear sad songs. I don’t know about you, but when I’m sad I like to hear sad songs. I can’t imagine trying to hear something super-happy and upbeat when I’m feeling down.

Morrissey’s built an entire career around this sort of emo-music (please kill me in the comments for calling Morrissey “emo”) and even though it might seem a bit strange he provides a service humanity really needs. I highly recommend anyone feeling depressed, blue, disenfranchised, pissed off, confused, or otherwise unsatisfied to check out the massive library of awesomely depressing music recorded by Morrissey.

Morrissey Depression Super-Mix

1. “Let Me Kiss You” from YOU ARE THE QUARRY

2. “Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me” from STRANGEWAYS, HERE WE COME

3. “Redondo Beach” from LIVE AT EARLS COURT

4. “Satan Rejected My Soul” from MALADJUSTED

5. “One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell” from YEARS OF REFUSAL

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“So High” by Ringo Deathstarr

This song, by Ringo Deathstarr, is from their album COLOUR TRIP (euro-spelling so you know it’s good!):

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“Mexican Coma” by Gringo Star

Check out this awesome song by Gringo Star, off their album COUNT YER LUCKY STARS:

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Gringo Star vs. Ringo Deathstarr

Last night I went on a Magical Mystery Tour deep within the bowels of Spotify.   I do this thing I call “band hopping” where I’ll listen to something and then let Spotify recommend something.  After I’m done listening to that I let it recommend something to me based on THAT song…pretty soon I’m completely and utterly lost.  I wish I could remember what led me to down the weird rabbit-hole of bands named in honor of ex-Beatle Ringo Starr, I bet the trajectory of songs was pretty interesting, but alas…I was in offline mode and my listens were not recorded.

But I digress.  The important thing is there are two really awesome rock bands with Ringo-inspired names.  The first of these bands that I happened upon was Atlanta-based Gringo Star.  What do you think of when you read that name?  I bet you think Gringo Star is a Beatles-inspired pop-rock band, right? I know that’s what I was thinking.  Turns out Gringo Star is a really cool rock band with some British-invasion influences, but mostly is a bit like the UK’s Supergrass.  The band’s latest album COUNT YER LUCKY STARS is a pretty tight collection of rock songs with a lot of “ooh’s” and “ahh’s.”**

I’m counting ’em…

The album opener “Shadow” invokes both the aforementioned Supergrass as well as Oasis, Blur, with just a hint of Dr. Dog (great harmonies).  The album is full of great songs, but I really like the spanish-influenced “Esmerelda” and the dreamy album-closer “Mexican Coma.”  That last song in particular sounds like it could have been a hit in 1966 by song little-know, post-Beatles invasion-era rock band.  I can almost see the vinyl copy of “Mexican Coma” by The Mudd Turtles or some such thing. It’s a really nice summer chill-out song, with a super-cool guitar solo.  But the song the changed my lust to love was “Got It,” which sounds like an early Kinks single.  It’s got a real nice, super-catchy hook that just digs into your brain and won’t let go.  Right now “Got It” is near the top of the list of best songs I’ve heard this summer (woah! It’s only June) .

From Gringo Star I ended up listening to a band called Ringo Deathstarr.  As far as jokey names go, Ringo Deathstarr beats Gringo Star hands-down.  Besides having the proper number of “R’s” in “Starr” the band’s name is also a freaking STAR WARS pun.

Super-washed out colours.

Now Ringo Deathstarr is a COMPLETELY different animal.  For one thing, their album COLOUR TRIP is more acid/reverb drenched than Gringo Star’s super-crisp rock.  Hailing from Texas, Ringo Deathstarr sounds a bit like The Flaming Lips by way of The Cure.  The band is a girl-and-guy “shoegaze” band that I have to reluctantly admit to being a sucker for. COLOUR TRIP opens with the spaced out “Imagine Hearts” which is a joyous bit of pop.  The album’s best track is “So High,” which sounds how a whacked-out day at the beach feels.  The gentle “Other Things” closes the album with bittersweet introspection.  It’s the kind of song that’s easy to get lost inside.  Some bands exist in space and other create it, and Ringo Deathstarr definitely create their own space–COLOUR TRIP is best enjoyed alone with headphones.  

Both bands (and albums) are pretty awesome, and despite sharing similarities in their name they’re pretty far apart sonically.  For me, Gringo Star has the better songs and Ringo Deathstarr has the better vibes.  Is that a cop-out? I guess, but it’s really like comparing apples to oranges.  Check ’em both out and tell me what you think.

FOOTNOTES:

**TANGENT: I think that modern music needs more “ooh’s” and “ahh’s.”  Go back and listen to music, from all genres, of the last 50 years and you’ll hear a ton of “ooh’s” and “ahh’s.”  But with only a few notable exceptions, COUNT YER LUCKY STARS being one of them, I can’t recall very many bands/albums today that use “ooh’s” and “ahh’s.”

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Boxer The Horse & FRENCH RESIDENCY

I first discovered Canadian Indie-rockers Boxer The Horse last year while browsing eMusic.   I really dug their awesome first album WOULD YOU PLEASE, especially the song “Bad Apples” which was one of the best songs I heard last year.  I played it countless times (so many times I literally lost count).   So as you can imagine I was pretty stoked when I found out that the band released a new album this week.  Boxer The Horse is a bit like the films of Wes Anderson–you’ll either dig their somewhat twee-sensibilities or you’ll loath it.  Their songs are carefully constructed, literate, and despite having a shiny-pop veneer are often pretty dark.  

FRENCH RESIDENCY finds the band improving and growing in just about every sense–the songs are better, the hooks are hookier,  and the songs are longer/more fleshed out.  One of the things I really like about Boxer The Horse is how diverse their albums sound.  They do spooky-indie pop (“Me & Steve McQueen”), straight out rockers (“Rattle Your Cage”), a kind of neo-folk (“Tough Luck”), and punk (“Bridge To The USA”).  I think it’s cool that the band does what they want genre/conventions be damned.  That said, I  can see how this might come across as a bit schizophrenic to some, and might even be considered a weakness for those who need everything carefully slotted into neat categories.  Regardless,  I find it refreshing and I’m sure this diversity makes them one helluva live act.

The best song on FRENCH RESIDENCY is “Rattle Your Cage.”   It’s that awesome brand of hard-charing pop song  the radio used to adore when we were kids, it’s shocking how good it is.  It reminds me of ROOM ON FIRE-era Strokes (that’s a good thing).  I love the hook, the guitars, and the awesome way the song collapses at the end.   “Rattle Your Cage” is the sort of song that demands to be played in an arena.  On the other end of the spectrum is “Me & Steve McQueen” which is quiet and intimate, almost anti-arena rock song.  It’s a murky, mysterious ballad that materializes and then quickly vaporizes like a ghost.  It’s less than 2 minutes of bliss.

I love that the laid-back “Tough Luck”  leads into the aggressive “Bridge To The USA.”  It’s a thoughtful bit of album construction that you don’t see much of these days.  The song “T. Rex” won me over as I was typing this review with the hilariously spot-on lyric: “don’t look so depressed on a Sunday morning /well don’t act like such a slut on Saturday night.”  That’s a Fagen & Becker-ish bit of cattiness I can’t help but love. The album is filled with little nuggets and flourishes that really impress and reward repeat listens.  I’m also intrigued by the fact that there’s a darkness lurking just under the surface throughout FRENCH RESIDENCY.  It reminds me of the way a lot of John Lennon’s solo albums felt.

Bad Apples, the whole lot…

That’s not to say that everything is perfect on FRENCH RESIDENCY, it’s not.  There are a few tracks that only-half work for me, the biggest offender being the Vampire Weekend-like “Party Saturday.”  It’s a bit too cute, even for me (though it does have a nice guitar solo).  “Karen Silkwood” is the other song on the record I just can’t get behind.  It’s so damn bizarre, lyrically, that I think I’m going to have to listen to it a few more times before I can figure out what it’s trying to say (if it’s trying to say anything).  A quick Google search reveals that Karen Silkwood was an Oklahoma labor activist who died under mysterious circumstances in 1974.  With that in mind, the song “Karen Silkwood” opens thusly: “I’m in the car when Karen Silkwood was killed / Texas Ranger won’t you marry me still?”  I’m all for complex lyrics and interesting narratives, but that’s just strange to be strange, right?  Speaking of odd things, I noticed after a few listens that there are multiple references to blood and bleeding scattered throughout the album.  I can’t say for certain, but I think this might be a subconscious-tic on the part of the band.  I know that as a writer there are some words and phrases I will use repeatedly if I’m not careful.  I wouldn’t be surprised if no one in the band was aware of this.

Historically, the second album is the one that separates the men from the boys.   FRENCH RESIDENCY is not a just an excellent sophomore album, it’s an excellent album in general.  It proves that WOULD YOU PLEASE wasn’t a fluke, but rather the beginning of an exciting career.

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