Former King Crimson guitarist Robert Fripp recorded his version of “Silent Night” in 1979, a year which found him in new-wave New York City and re-emerging into music after some time off. Besides releasing his first solo album—the Eno-headed all-star art-rock session entitled Exposure—Fripp had dropped his unmistakable style into such milestones as Blondie’s “Fade Away and Radiate”, the Talking Heads’ “I Zimbra,” and the Roches’ debut album.
Using Frippertronics, the analog loop-delay system he’d developed in the early ‘70s using two reel-to-reel tape decks, Fripp takes the hymn through its first four bars—up to “all is bright”—before letting his high-register tone loops take over.
So instead of a didactic reaction to the tune and its traditions, Fripp simply implies an avoidance of Mother and Child, preferring instead to hover in the calm brightness of the evening.
Here are the hard stats on this one according to YouTuber ScootTheCat:
Originally released as a flexi-disc with the Chicago based Praxis Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 3 December, 1979. It was also an aural Christmas card from EG Records. This recording is from the King Crimson “Sex Sleep Eat Drink Dream” 5 track EPCD (1995).
It’s party season, and as we should all know by now, disco is the greatest party music ever. If you happen to disagree with that statement, then check out this excellent 50 minute mix by veteran LA turntablist Cut Chemist.
There is nothing particularly obscure of unknown here (not for disco aficionados anyway) but what sets it apart is the sheer slickness of the mixing, and the ease with which these tracks go together. Especially worthy of mention is the section from about 5 minutes in which sees Donna Summer, Rinder & Lewis, Silver Convention and Love Unlimited Orchestra slide into each other hand in glove, as if they were written for that very purpose. Then he drops “Sesso Matto” and it just keeps getting better:
The passing of HMV would truly be the end of an era, so what better time to take a look back at its glory days? In particular these photos from the retailer’s flagship store in London’s Oxford Street, taken in the 50s, 60s and 70s, and handily collected and posted in two different entries on the excellent Voices of East Anglia blog. The first of these entries was posted over the summer, and did the rounds back then, but the second entry is even better still.
I have mixed feelings about HMV - too many hours spent searching for music they would never stock and I would find more easily at an independent shop, versus occasionally finding incredible bargains on “unwanted” releases lurking in the discount bins (and sometimes a good pop album on sale for less than any other shop.) But looking at these photos, and the clothes, hairstyles, design and records, the viewer is reminded not just that this is an era long gong, but that it was also a golden age of physical music retailing, the like of which we will never see again.
I don’t think records or record shops are ever going to go away - downsized for sure, but not extinct. However it’s unlikely we will see this much flash (and cash) invested in the humble vinyl emporium ever again:
See more fantastic pictures of HMV at Voices of East Anglia - part one and part two.
Legendary outsider musician Jan Terri is back! Almost twenty years after the recording of her classics “Get Down Goblin” and “Losing You” (regularly voted one of the worst videos of all time, but actually one hell of a catchy track), Jan is set to release a new album next year called Wild One. “Excuse My Christmas” is the first single from the album, and screw Billy Idol, Bob Dylan, Ozzy Osbourne & Jessica Simpson, the Beatles or any of that other shit - THIS is what Christmas should be about:
After the jump, the video for Jan Terri’s 1994 Christmas track “Rock’n'Roll Santa”...
Claude Lelouch’s poetic short film Iran was made in 1971. Shot in stunningly beautiful color, perfectly edited, and featuring a musical score by legendary French composer Francis Lai, this 17 minute masterpiece was never widely distributed, despite winning a half dozen prestigious international film awards.
Thank you Internet for giving films like Iran new life.
Click on the HD options on the Youtube channel to watch in higher resolution.
Australian comedian, piano whizz and enthusiastic exponent of guyliner Tim Minchin has had a satirical song of his called “Woody Allen Jesus” cut from the broadcast of one of the UK biggest chat shows, The Jonathan Ross Show. Minchin had been asked specifically by Ross and his producers to write and perform a Christmas ditty for the show, but when an advanced tape was passed to the station’s director of television, Peter Fincham, it was decided that the song needed to be dropped.
Minchin is miffed, and rightly so. Are well living in the 21st century or not? Does freedom of speech and thought (and music) exist in this country or is the Christian religion in such a dire state that it needs to ban anything that questions its relevance? Actually, that might be the case. Despite David Cameron’s particularly idiotic and toadying claims that the UK is a “Christian country”, the figures simply do not back this up, as this report in the ultra-conservative Daily Mail shows: “Number of Christians is down 10% in just five years.”
Being Christmas, I thought it would be fun to do a song about Jesus, but being TV, I knew it would have to be gentle. The idea was to compare him to Woody Allen (short, Jewish, philosophical, a bit hesitant), and expand into redefining his other alleged attributes using modern, popular-culture terminology.
It’s not a particularly original idea, I admit, but it’s quite cute. It’s certainly not very contentious, but even so, compliance people and producers and lawyers all checked my lyrics long before the cameras rolled. As always with these bespoke writing jobs, I was really stressed for about 3 days, and almost chucked it in the bin 5 times, and freaked out that it wasn’t funny and all that boring shit that people like me go through when we’re lucky enough to have with a big audience with high expectations. And if I’m honest, it ain’t a world-changing bit of comedy. Regardless…
And then someone got nervous and sent the tape to ITV’s director of television, Peter Fincham.
And Peter Fincham demanded that I be cut from the show.
He did this because he’s scared of the ranty, shit-stirring, right-wing press, and of the small minority of Brits who believe they have a right to go through life protected from anything that challenges them in any way.
Yesterday I wrote a big rant about comedy and risk and conservatism; about the fact that my joke has no victim; about sacredness (oh God, not again!) and about the importance of laughing at dumb but pervasive ideas. But I trashed it because it’s boring and takes it all too seriously. It’s hardly the end of the world.
But I have to admit I’m really fucking disappointed.
It’s 2011. The appropriate reaction to people who think Jesus is a supernatural being is mild embarrassment, sighing tolerance and patient education.
And anger when they’re being bigots.
Oh, and satire. There’s always satire.
Jonathan Ross is no stranger to controversy within the British media - in 2008 he and Russell Brand found themselves in deep shit after a phone call to Andrew Sachs was deemed to have gone “too far” by the tabloid press. Those ever-original and forward thinking people at the tabloids christened the incident “Sachsgate” and the outrage that was drummed up was enough to have both comedians ousted by their employer at the time, the BBC (one was suspended and the other quit.) This background hum of potential “outrage” may have been enough for Fincham to pull Minchin’s segment on the Ross show, but now it looks like a whole new controversy based on freedom of speech and expression is blowing up in ITV’s face. Oh dear.
Here is Tim Minchin performing “Woody Allen Jesus” on The Jonathan Ross Show:
The ill-fated Middle Eastern sounding rock group, The Devil’s Anvil were discovered by record producer Felix Pappalardi (Cream’s Disraeli Gears) playing in a New York City cafe in 1967. Pappalardi got the band signed to Columbia Records and played bass on the their album.
The Devil’s Anvil, were Steve Knight (rhythm guitar, bass, bouzouki), Jerry Satpir (lead guitar, vocals), Elierzer Adoram (accordion), and Kareem Issaq (oud, vocals). Hard Rock from the Middle East would be their only record. Despite their truly original sound—which pre-dated “World Beat” by many years—luck was not on the side of The Devil’s Anvil, for on the very same day that Hard Rock from the Middle East streeted, the 1967 Arab-Israeli War broke out, too, and no radio station would touch it!
Pappalardi later went on to form Mountain with Knight and Leslie West.
Below, a four song selection from The Devil’s Anvil (“Karkadon,” “Besaha,” “Hala Laya,” “Nahna oud-Diab.”
Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
I was foresaken by rock and roll in the early 1970s. Gene Vincent, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Brian Jones had died. The Beatles disintegrated. The Byrds broke-up and then reunited to record their worst album. The Stones released their last great one. The Who were making tedious, bombastic operas choked with bad symbolism and simple minded metaphors. Pink Floyd took the brown acid and became boring. The Dave Clark Five became Dave Clark and Friends. Phil Spector went into seclusion. Elvis went to the White House to shake Nixon’s hand. Bob Dylan went Nashville. Brian Wilson went mad and Arthur Lee wasn’t too far behind.
Top 40 radio was in dire need of a Rotor-Rooter. The pipelines were full of excremental sludge consisting of some of the worst songs to be sprung from the a-hole of rock n’ roll.
“A Horse With No Name” - America
“The Candy Man” - Sammy Davis Jr.
“Joy To The World” - Three Dog Night
“One Bad Apple” - The Osmonds
“Take Me Home, Country Roads” - John Denver
“Tie A Yellow Ribbon ‘Round The Old Oak Tree” -Tony Orlando & Dawn
” Bad Bad Leroy Brown” - Jim Croce
“The Way We Were” - Barbra Streisand
“Seasons In The Sun” - Terry Jacks
“The Streak” - Ray Stevens
“One Hell Of A Woman” - Mac Davis
All of the above were best-selling singles from 1971-74, all of them appearing in the Top Ten.
And when it came to rock criticism, Robert Christgau’s insulting and utterly clueless one-line review of Tim Buckley’s masterful 1970 release Starsailor is one of the most odious things that sandal-wearing beatnik ever wrote:
A man who was renowned for his Odetta impressions on Jac Holzman’s folkie label switches to Frank Zappa’s art-rock label, presumably so he can do Nico impressions.
Yes kids, it was a wasteland. If it was some fresh badass rock and roll you were looking for, you had to look hard. If you were lucky, you found Iggy… and eventually you’d come upon a few other shards of light within the shitstorm: Marc Bolan’s Electric Warrior and Roxy Music’s debut album, with Lou Reed’s Transformer and Ziggy not far behind. The guys with the make-up, glitter and hairspray brought something essential back to rock and roll: big hooks, guitars, a little danger and sex.
I took a pass on Bowie. Reed, as a Velvet, was already a hero. Roxy music knocked me out, but it was Marc Bolan that blew me way. Everything about T. Rex worked for me : the chugging guitar riffs, undeniable hooks, propulsive tribal rhythms, sassy vocals, surreal alliterative lyrics and Marc’s pimped out fashion sense. It all came together with a certain inspired savoir faire. Bolan, like Hendrix, Chuck Berry and Elvis, exploded fully formed out of the rock and roll godhead. He was one for the ages. His influence reached far and deep, inspiring and setting the stage for The Ramones, The Runaways, Blondie, The Clash and The Sex Pistols.
Marc Bolan:The Final Word is a BBC documentary that provides a fairly detailed overview of Bolan’s life. It’s narrated by Suzi Quatro and features contributions from his companion Gloria Jones, brother Harry Feld, producer Tony Visconti, Queen’s Roger Taylor, Steve Harley, Zandra Rhodes and more.
By god, it’s true. From Tom Jones’ TV variety show circa 1969. Tom seems to be inspiring a certain level of vocal enthusiasm from the other fellas here. Even the untouchably cool Neil Young seems inspired by the odd pairing. I never knew…
would be their only record. Despite their truly original sound—which pre-dated “World Beat” by many years—luck was not on the side of The Devil’s Anvil, for on the very same day that 
