"Snatch the pebble from my hand, Grasshopper"
I-94 Bar Elder Statesman who blogs at The Stashdauber
1. Nels Cline – Coward. When Nels joined Wilco, I quipped, “Finally that band has a reason to exist!” – namely, to give the avant-guitar genius a payday so he can make records like this one. Whether he’s playing chamber jazz with his own ensembles, feedback-and-noise duets with Thurston Moore, or Miles Davis-meets-the-Stooges jazz-funk-skronk with Banyan, he’s always inventive and interesting – my fave currently working axe-slinger, along with Boris’ frequent collaborator Michio Kurihara. On Coward, he overdubs all the parts himself, and the results include a shimmering 18-minute tribute to the murdered microtonal guitarist Rod Poole and a six-part suite which touches bases that include Ennio Morricone, surf, Pink Floyd, garage-psychedelia, industrial noise, break beats and Bollywood. I’ve had this for almost a year now and sometimes I still don’t want to hear anything else.
2. Bobby Previte – Pan Atlantic. Previte’s a Lower Manhattan eminence who came up playing in upstate bar bands. He’s always been a composer first, a drummer second, thank Ceiling Cat. Using just five pieces, this record combines jazz, classical, and rock textures and procedures to produce an orchestral, cinematic sound in the same way as Zappa’s Hot Rats and Zorn’s The Big Gundown did. Who else would overlay a rhythm bed from the Chicago Transit Authority songbook with blood-curdling freeblow saxophonics? Previte’s band of European improvisers blows hot, but always within the framework of the composer’s designs.
3. Snowbyrd – Diosdado. A local – well, at least from Texas (San Antonio, to be exact) — release with a compelling backstory. Despite having the worst band name in recent memory, these guys – a pair of Anglo brothers on vox/guitar and a Chicano drummer, sorta like Rank and File, with a revolving Spinal Tap bass chair – play a potent mix of desert-dusty psych and y’allternative that sounds to these feedback-scorched ears like a blend of Lazy Cowgirls, Rich Hopkins’ Luminarios, and Fort Worth’s own late, lamented Woodeye. Drummer Manuel Diosado Castillo, in whose honor the album is titled, founded of an S.A. cultural arts organization and died of cancer back in January. He was almost too much drummer for this music – think Keith Moon sitting in with the Bottle Rockets – but he brought much power and drama to the songs, many of which are proudly hometown-scene referential in the best possible way. Per Manny’s wishes, they’re going on with a different drummer. Bless them.
4. Bonedome – Thinktankubator. Journeyman Dallas alt-rock muso Allan Hayslip (Vibrolux, Prince Jellyfish, Rock Star Karaoke) steps up to the plate for his first outing as frontman and sole writer and knocks one out of the park, evoking (to these feedback-scorched ears) the spirit of Big D’s best-ever contribution to brainy pop-rock, obscuro genius Reggie Rueffer’s bands Spot and the Hochimen. Melodic yet aggressive, with the smartest lyrics I’ve heard in a long time – maybe since the Hochimen’s Tierra del Gato a few years back, in fact.
5. Dennis Gonzalez/Yells At Eels – The Great Bydgoszcz Concert. I once had the honor of playing a gig with 20something Dallas bassist Aaron Gonzalez, at the end of which he showed me his fingers, which all had skin hanging off them from wrestling that big upright. Since he and his brother, drummer Stefan Gonzalez, coaxed their trumpet-playing dad Dennis (whom I’ve known, off and on, for 30 years now) out of musical retirement a decade ago, they’ve gone from strength to strength, but this album – released on the tiny Euro Ayler label, with Portuguese saxophonist Rodrigo Amado joining the trio – is the first one to capture the improvisational fire they’re capable of in live performance. The versions of Stefan’s “Crow Soul” and Ornette Coleman’s “Happy House” are particularly fine. This year, Dennis also self-released a 1989 board tape of a band he co-led with tenorman Frank Lowe, and Mayyrh Records dropped the recording of Aaron’s droney ambient live action Age of Disinformation.
6. Flaming Lips – Embryonic. It’s impressive that a band as popular as the Lips – who made the transition from underground to mainstream about as gracefully as anyone ever has and whose arena rock spectacle surpasses anyone’s from this side of the Atlantic with its blend of majestic grandeur and self-effacing humor – would make a record as willfully Out There as this one. By At War With the Mystics, they’d pretty much mined all the gold from the vein of existential psych-pop they’d struck with The Soft Bulletin, so there was nothing left for them to do but finish Wayne Coyne’s sci-fi movie, record a cover of Dark Side of the Moon for iTunes, and return to their more anarchic In A Priest Driven Ambulance sound, albeit with better execution and production values. Sure, Radiohead did it before, but I actually liked (read: gave two shits about) the Lips’ “accessible” music.
7. Reissues: Neil Young’s Archives, Vol. 1: 1963-1972 is as important for the manner in which it organizes and presents his compleat history as it is for the music, which in his heart of hearts, he knows is his best. It’ll probably never supplant Decade in my collection, however, brevity being the soul of listenability. The Rationals’ Think Rational is the fulfillment of a damn-near-40-year-old dream, bringing together all of the band’s early singles, the demos and oddities from the never-offically-released 1966 “fan club album,” and others even more obscure. These guys never cut a bad side. Now if somebody will just reish their 1970 Crewe album…
8. Live: The Gunslingers from Grenoble, France, were a lot more awe-inspiring at the Chat Room in Fort Worth (sizzling energy and a packed room on a Wednesday night) than they were at their SXSW showcase (a soundman with a cloth ear and uncooperative borrowed equipment). The No Idea Festival at Lola’s Stockyards brought avant-garde improvisers from Austin, Zurich, Berlin, and Japan, along with some locals, to the heart of Fort Worth’s cowboy culcha. Old punks the Nervebreakers at Club Dada in Dallas sounded every bit as good as they did back when they were opening shows for the Sex Pistols, Clash, Ramones, et al., and it was a gas to see so many people I hadn’t run into in 30 years.
9. DVDs: The Patti Smith documentary Dream of Life is an intimate portrait of an artist I’ve always underappreciated, whose full stature has only really become apparent in her maturity. Lou Reed’s Berlin is just the best live performance film I’ve ever seen. (Having Julian Schnabel of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly direct didn’t hurt; having Steve Hunter on board as bandleader-guitarist clinched the deal.) Forget Lou’s and this album’s reputation for bad vibes; the sheer joy of the musicians playing this music is palpable, and it sounds once and for all like great work.
10. Miscellaneous: Doc’s Records opened within walking distance of my house late in the spring, so I’m once again experiencing the joys of digging through crates of vinyl where the percentage of diamonds over dogshit is high (and, um, spending way too much money). I haven’t heard their album yet, as it’s an obscenely expensive import, but Italian funk band Calibro 35’s Youtube videos are shit-hot. And of course, the Youtube vids from the reconstituted Iggy & the Stooges’ shakedown cruise in Rio are a harbinger of good things to come. “Straight” James Williamson’s return to the fold — welcome back, sir! — mitigates the sadness from Ron Asheton’s untimely death.
Speaking of which, my father’s passing this year occasioned a lot of introspection. Mainly the idea that I haven’t done as well as I should at a lot of things that I think are important, and that the time to rectify that is finite. Started scribing for the FW Weekly again, which I’m enjoying more now that I no longer rely on it for my livelihood and I can pretty much write about anything I want. Stoogeaphilia is playing less this year than last, but I think it’s possible I’m enjoying it more, and Hentai Improvising Orchestra appears to have a lot more potential than did PFFFFT!; we’ll see. I was going to wait to submit this list until I got my copy of Easy Action’s 1971 Stoogebox with Ron and James on guitars, which is supposedly in the mail, and the Tom Waits live album that’ll be out November 17th, but whatthehell.
