Shoes, Ignition

By Cait Brennan

Zion, Illinois hardly seems like the kind of place to jumpstart a music revolution. But in the dark days of 1974, this tasty bit of spicy mustard in the middle of a Waukegan/Kenosha sandwich found itself with not one but two seemingly endless power sources. Say what you will about nuclear fission, but the Zion Nuclear Power Plant had nothing on the thousand-megawatt power pop of brothers John and Jeff Murphy and their high school pal Gary Klebe—the creative soul of Shoes. Pioneers of both power pop and DIY home recording, the band made their mark with 1977’s self-released Black Vinyl Shoes, released three gorgeous albums on Elektra from ’79-82, and over the next 30-plus years, blazed a fiercely independent trail with a series of critically-acclaimed albums (1984’s Silhouette, 1990’s Stolen Wishes, ‘94’s Propeller, and a ton of rarities and reissues).

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Searching For Sugar Man

By Chelsea Spear

Who is, or was, Sixto Diaz Rodriguez? A lifelong resident of Detroit, and the son of Mexican immigrants who moved to the Midwest to work for Ford. A “prophet, “a wise man”, and a “wandering spirit” in the eyes of his coworkers on construction crews. A social activist who ran for office in his hometown, and who brought his five daughters to protests. A man of modest means who lives an ascetic life.

For a brief period in the 1970s, Rodriguez was a solo artist who released two remarkable albums—Cold Fact and Coming From Reality—that reached an audience so small, the cliché “cult hero” would overestimate it. While the albums sold an estimated six copies in America and quickly lapsed out of print, Cold Fact made it to South Africa not long after it came out here. Rodriguez’s anti-establishment lyrics, combined with his driving melodies and funky arrangements, made him a folk hero to South Africans bristling under apartheid. That Rodriguez was rumored to have committed a grisly suicide before a live audience only deepened his legend.

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Redd Kross, Researching The Blues

By Less Lee Moore

” . . . there’s nothing more comforting than being in a room with my brother where him and our drummer are just talking endlessly about Bob Dylan bootlegs and we have stupid inside jokes about public access shows from 1984. With them I can just turn my brain off and I don’t need to worry about the social aspect of this environment—that’s sorted.”
—Steven McDonald, interviewed in Stereogum, July 30, 2012

Disclaimer: Redd Kross has been an integral part of my life for almost 20 years, so I can’t promise that this review will be 100% objective. I can, however, promise that it will be 100% sincere.

Redd Kross. Oh, where to start? So much history that I can’t cram it all into one review, but chew on this: The band has been around for more than 30 years. Despite various lineup changes, two members have remained steadfast—brothers Jeff and Steven McDonald, now both in their 40s. (Your math is correct; Jeff and Steven started the band at ages 15 and 11, respectively.) And yes, they have been integral to my life, something that can’t be overstated; after all, the name of this website was inspired by the name of one of their albums.

Throughout the band’s existence, Redd Kross may not have released as many “proper” albums as other bands, but they’ve been no less prolific, participating in various soundtracks, tribute albums, singles, EPs, and at least two alter egos (how else do you describe Anarchy Sixx or Tater Totz?). Although their sound has never been what purists might consider punk rock, their attitude has always been. Even the bubblegum pop of 1990’s Third Eye contains a metal tribute to Japanese girl group Shonen Knife. Thus, answering the question, “so what does Redd Kross sound like?” has always been tricky.

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The Entity

By Less Lee Moore

As The Entity begins, we watch a single mother named Carla Moran waiting for her shift as a receptionist to end. Then, she rushes off to night school and enters her typing class after it has already begun. Frustrated, she makes a few errors on the machine. Much later, she comes home to her modest house in the suburbs, where the lights are out. There are dirty dishes on the table, which she proceeds to wash. Her younger daughters are already asleep, but she argues with her teenaged son about the mess. Soon she is getting ready for bed. A mundane start to a horror movie? Perhaps, until we soon realize that we are not the only ones watching Carla Moran.

The unseen voyeur makes itself known with a slap to Carla’s face. Stunned by the blood and the pain, she is soon shoved onto her bed, pillow over her face, and sexually violated by this malevolent, invisible being.

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The Very Best of Sonny Rollins

By Paul Casey

“What was beginning to happen to me was that I was being expected to really deliver great music all the time. In other words my name was bigger than I thought I could support with what I was doing. I remember one particular job that I had, when I just felt I wasn’t really playing well enough, you know? And everybody was really so excited to see me and I really felt I let the people down. I was really frustrated with myself, you know? That was really the genesis of this thing on the bridge. That’s what really it was all about.

I was out walking two blocks from where I lived at, actually, and I looked up and I saw these steps, you know, going up. And I walked over the street and I walked up those steps and there was this big beautiful expanse of bridge, you know? Nobody up there.

Usually I don’t pay too much attention to the trains. Usually absorbed in what I’m doing. But in a way it adds, you know it’s part of the atmospheric noise, and it adds to your playing in a way, you know? All these sounds, you see, because I’m sure subconsciously I change what I’m playing to blend with the sound of the train. It all has its effect.”
—Sonny Rollins from BBC Arena’s Beyond the Notes documentary

A striking image in the history of the 20th Century Jazz. A powerfully gifted man, having given up a professional life in music, plays his saxophone atop the Williamsburg Bridge, between Manhattan and Brooklyn, New York. Sonny Rollins, music, and the world. Moving with the trains, with the earth moving as they pass by, and the earth moving to the sounds of his saxophone.

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The Very Best of Wes Montgomery

By Paul Casey

“His playing transcended the instrument. Other Jazz guitarists, you know they’re playing the guitar but Wes and his whole approach, the way he phrased, his sense of swing, you kind of lost a sense that he was playing the guitar. He played the guitar like a horn, for instance. He phrased like a horn player and it just really caught people’s imaginations. It was really different.”
—Jim Ferguson from NPR’s The Life and Music of Wes Montgomery

The guitar was rarely a dominant instrument in Jazz. Relegated to a back-up, or to flesh out a sound, the guitar did not have the sparkly flair of a lead instrument. With the exception of Benny Goodman Sextet member Charlie Christian, or the Gypsy Jazz of Django Reinhardt, there were few guitarists in Jazz who were considered to be serious figures in the genre. Through his recordings and performances, Wes Montgomery did much to legitimize the guitar in Jazz, as well as influence a whole heap of musicians. The fracturing of the genre into Free and Fusion guaranteed its place, as well as the legacy of Wes Montgomery.

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On The Airwaves, Postmeridian: Q&A with Glenn di Benedetto of Parlour Bells

By Chelsea Spear

Nate Leavitt, Glenn di Benedetto of Parlour Bells
Photo © Derek Kouyoumjian

After the Parlour Bells ended an epic set at the funeral for Boston radio station WFNX, former ‘FNX program director Paul Driscoll was heard to say “I think I have a crush on the whole band!” It’s not hard to see why one would become besotted with the rising Boston quartet. Their darkly romantic pop songs engage the listener with anthemic melodies, cinematic arrangements, and seductive vocals. Fans of Orange Juice, Peter Murphy, and Sparks might find room in their hearts for these up-and-comers.

On a balmy mid-July day, I called up charismatic vocalist Glenn di Benedetto to learn more about the Parlour Bells. (more…)

Laetitia Sadier, Silencio

By Jemiah Jefferson

The chanteuse of compassionate socialism hasn’t changed much since the earliest days of legendary agit-pop group Stereolab, and this is a very good thing; Laetitia Sadier‘s cool, clear-eyed voice, alternately crisp and authoritative and velvety-dreamy, is one of the greatest resources in music. As a songwriter, too, she only develops further complexities while keeping the core characteristics intact. Sadier has always created intensely listenable tunes to transmit messages of the political and the personal, and Silencio is no exception. (more…)

The Dark Knight Rises

By Less Lee Moore

Photo © Warner Bros. via ScreenCrush

Let’s be honest: The Dark Knight Rises doesn’t need my review. People are going to see it anyway. But I need to write a review. After the midnight showing I felt overwhelmed, exuberant, humbled. I couldn’t stop talking and thinking about the movie. I got home after 3 a.m., exhausted but unable to sleep. That hasn’t happened since the first night I saw Fight Club in 1999. Before that, it was in 1998, because of the movie Velvet Goldmine, with none other than Christian Bale—but I’m getting ahead of (behind?) myself. You want to know about The Dark Knight Rises.

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All You Got To Do Is Swing: Joe Jackson’s The Duke

By Cait Brennan

From the very beginning of his professional career, Joe Jackson has been one of the most driven, creative, and eclectic artists in popular music. His debut album, Look Sharp, was one of the New Wave’s first smash hits, and over his first three albums Jackson and his band ruled the airwaves with catchy, intelligent pop with strong punk, reggae and pub-rock influences. (more…)